CHAPTER 1

Don't Call Me Ma'am

The panel came off easily. To her of course. Anyone less would have had a harder time removing it. Rusted beyond belief, the panel had been practically fused to the hull of the ship surrounding it. Once drifting, its bow piercing through the clouds, it was now no more than a wreck, crashed in between the island's sandstone sides.

Dust and sand on the other side, puffed out like smoke into Maija's face. She coughed and stumbled back, still gripping to the ship's metal frame with her hands, palms wrapped in once white- now a sickly brown- cloth. Swatting at the cloud of sand and dust now collecting on her face, attaching to her clothes, she leaned into the opening the panel had kept hidden. Darkness.

The old ship- Maija guessed it had been built before even her own time- was still sealed well. Its metal plating withheld not only light, but fresh air. The darkness in front of her smelled of must and dirty steel. Luckily, the ship's sailors had escaped, sparing Maija the stench of their rotting corpses. To where they had escaped to, remained a mystery.

A mystery Maija did not intend to solve.

She was after much more than answers to long concealed secrets- keys to locks long hidden away. Rather, the locks themselves posed more to Maija than the mysteries they protected. Depending on its complexity, they could mean a lot to her.

The hole leading to the ship's innards was small, just larger than the distance between Maija's two shoulders. She had squeezed into tighter spaces before, so she began working her way in feet first. Now keeping both cloth-wrapped hands latched to the ship's hull, she slipped in, holding her breath until she was safely back on her unprotected feet.

While Maija felt some comfort from finally being back standing straight, it wasn't going to last long. Gently twisting a metal knob along the side of a lantern attached to her hip, a flame ignited, and the room lit with warm and flickering orange light.

As she took in her surroundings, she found that this room was not a room at all. Rather it was the end of a corridor that had been flipped completely vertically, forming a tunnel moving upwards. Maija was now currently standing along the ship's former hull, facing the ceiling of this corridor.

She sighed to herself and pulled the cloth on her hands tighter. More climbing. She couldn't wait to be rid of it.

Finding handholds wasn't a problem. The ship had been… less than gracefully made. Pipes and wiring ran the height of the wall in front of her, some thick and sturdy, some less than that. Maija began her ascent.

She blew a puff from her nose and hoisted herself up, grabbing tightly to a pipe with her right hand and a seem between two panels with her left. The tips of her bare toes felt around the wall, just a few feet now from the ground and found a dent. With once swift movement, she pushed with her foot and pulled her hands upwards. Most of the strength from her arms forced her up into the stiff air just enough for Maija to grab at a pipe- orange with rust- about as thick as her own thigh, running horizontally through an intersection between two perpendicular corridors.

Enough foresight would have told her that the top of the pipe would likely be covered in a thick layer of sand, but the flickering flame contained in her lantern casted weird shadows through the corridor and didn't fully illuminate it. Her hand slipped and she fell. Her lips tightened and her teeth clenched around her tongue as she held in a yelp. Maija snatched at anything she could along the wall she had been climbing up and they found a thick column of wire forming a rope but as soon as her body weight caught on it, the rope snapped from the wall with a loud clang, swinging Maija back towards what had been the floor of the corridor she had been climbing up.

Her shoulder slammed hard against the metal. Maija pushed herself away with her knee now hanging firmly to the rope of old wire whose mangled and fringed edges nipped at her skin. Thankfully, a rope was exactly what she needed and Maija quickly climbed up to the top, planting her feet on the room's farthermost wall- now serving as a floor.

Everything that had once decorated this room had now either been stolen or had toppled down to the wall that Maija now stood on- most of which was across the opening she had come from. Maija hopped across, the heels of her feet slapping against the metal, and approached a small wooden table laying on its side. A small wooden box lay at one of the table's legs, lid open, sprawled upside down. The corners of the wood had been plated with gold but had rusted to the point of unrecognition. But the gold wasn't important. Not this time. Any other day sure, but not today. Not in this unexplored wreckage.

Maija squatted down and rested a knee against the floor, gingerly reaching down for the box, as if the slightest breath would turn it to dust. She lifted it up and what sat under it was… underwhelming. Her green eyes reflecting the shimmering of her lantern sparkled either way, the hint of a smile tickling her parted lips. Lying gently on the floor was a grappling hook crafted from dark palm wood, strapped, and nailed together with iron and strung with thick rope. She lifted it up and carefully opened it along the side, the inside was padded with an off-white cloth and down feather from a bird Maija had never seen before.

Dropping her right hand to her knee palm up, she rested the grappling hook along the length of her forearm and closed it around her arm. The padding felt soft against her skin as the grappling hook latched tightly around her forearm, forcing a handle along its top into Maija's palm, just above the base of her thumb. She slipped the cloth out from under the hook and began wrapping it once again around her right arm, now incorporating the hook into the loop. She pulled it tight and tied it off, hiding the knot underneath the hook's frame.

She stood, feeling finally the weight of the mechanism now strapped to her arm. It felt as if the grappling hook alone had almost doubled the weight of Maija's arm and she certainly wasn't used to it yet. Maija moved to fire it but noticed the bronze air canisters attached to the top of the hook, the faces of both blown clean off leaving nothing but ripped metal. There was no chance the hook would fire and after a quick test, there was nothing but a barely audible click coming from the switch she had flicked with her thumb.

Maija sighed, rolling her eyes, and moved to rub the bridge of her nose with her fingers, instead knocking her forehead with the end of the grappling hook that now rendering her most dominant hand useless.

At least she had it. It was hers now. New canisters would be easy to find. Any tradesman would carry them. At least she had the hook.

Maija's way out was a lot harder than her way in.

The rope of wire didn't serve much a purpose anymore with the grappling hook completely hindering her right arms ability. She stood at the hole down, the light coming from the opening below glowing up the vertical corridor. The temptation to just jump itched at Maija but she knew a fall like that would certainly snap a bone. But if she only…

She jumped, twisting her body around and catching herself with her left arm. Maija slowly lowered herself down until her arm was straight, then released. Her feet slammed against the floor and fell through them, a loud bang echoing through the corridor as the panel Maija had landed on snapped off.

This time she did scream as she felt her body plummet through the new hole in the floor and down into empty air. The strip of cloth that hung from her shoulder caught on a jagged piece of metal and ripped, giving Maija just the chance she needed to flip herself around with the only hand she could use. Her fingers latched onto the metal, and she let her body go limp, gently swaying in the wind as she let herself catch her breath. She questioned if this grappling hook was worth the work, she had put into finding it.

The strip of cloth that once hung over her left shoulder had ripped and hung off the jagged piece of metal in front of Maija, gently blowing in the wind. It was at that moment the only reason she wasn't dead. She grabbed it with her free hand and tucked it into the back of her trousers, still letting it hang down well past the back of her knees. It had saved her life, it deserved more than to be left behind.

Gingerly lifting her right arm up- almost expecting the metal she was hanging from to snap at any moment- she shifted her weight and slowly climbed towards the island's edge. Hanging on- basically for dear life- her right hand slipped, still not used to the grappling hook's heavy cling. Her palm slid across an edge of sharp metal, slicing through skin. Maija sucked in air through clenched teeth and pushed through the stinging pain until her battered and calloused hands felt the now comforting touch of the island's rocky side.

Ignoring the bleeding cut across her palm, she kept climbing, finding foot holes, and grabbing points easily along the island roughed up, sharp side. The last few feet of the island's side were smooth, completely smooth as it rounded up to the surface, covered in orange sand. Without missing a beat, Maija hurtled herself up, using her generated momentum from the climb and grabbed hold of the thick root of a nearby tree that struck out from the ground, somehow managing to tunnel through stone, desperate for any drop of water it could find. By the look and texture of its dry, cracking gray bark, it had failed. Then she pulled herself up and over, rolling onto her side before finally setting her feet on firm ground.

She took a deep breath. Then another, recovering from the climb she just had. Now that it was over, her arms and legs all felt soar and ached whenever she moved. Maija dropped to one knee and started unlatching her grappling hook, carefully setting it in the sand once it came free. Reaching into a pouch hanging from her hip, she pulled out a roll of off-white cloth stained with the red juices of daccat berries. Then, finally, she started wrapping her wounded hand. Growing from the branches of every tree, daccat berries had miraculous healing properties and were the most common medicinal plant in Foundation. It's crushed out juices held enough power to heal most flesh wounds relatively easy. Her hand already felt better. Maija reequipped the grappling hook.

Their ship hung perfectly above the ground, still some way in the distance. Not the blow of wind shook it. She had traveled the skies with her father Makhai. He wasn't her father by blood- and they both had been given a lot of pain because of it- but she couldn't think of him as anything else. He had raised her since she had found herself in this world. Alone and afraid, Maija had learned from him how to survive and how to protect herself. Given the circumstances, she had her life to thank him for.

It looked as if he had yet to return to the ship. She had somehow beaten him back. It worked for her, at least it gave her sometime to get cleaned up. After a day's worth of work, she was covered head to toe in dust, dirt, sand, sweat and bruises.

Their ship was small but inside was large enough to split into three separate rooms. One for her, for Makhai, and the last for everything else. That did make the ship cramped inside all due to the amount of cargo they needed to haul daily. Maija stumbled into her room and closed the door. When she left it again, she had washed off and cleaned her clothes, now having the piece of cloth tied to the back of her belt, still hanging below the back of her knees. She had washed the grease out of her natural black hair which she had tied up into a short ponytail, still damp with what little water she could spare.

Maija already looked refreshed, rejuvenated. Her green eyes sparkled and glowed with a fierceness that could cut stone. Her attire was simple. Charcoal undershirt and tan trousers with a strip of bright, blood red cloth of varying thickness that, starting at the hip, wrapped around her waist, up across her chest, around the back and up and over her left shoulder. Except now the cloth that would have hung over her shoulder was attached to her belt, the torn end tucked underneath her shoulder strap.

She stepped out of her room and ducked down, grabbing some equipment at the foot of the doorframe. A hip quiver filled with poorly made wooden arrows, a single glove hung out its opening. And a recurve bow made from ash wood. She had carved it herself and trained with it ever since. Maija had nothing to base her skill level to, but she'd say she wasn't too shabby, hitting most of the targets she would lay out for practice.

She put the bow around her head and on her back, letting the string snap against her chest and slid her right hand snuggly into the glove. It was made from leather, fingerless besides her first two fingers. It made it a little less painful to keep pulling back a bowstring. Not as if Maija would be bothered without it. The calluses and sores that covered her hands attested to the hell they've been through. It was almost as if her skin itself was made of leather.

She had left grappling in the main room. Makhai and her rooms were along the back end of the ship, the front side was open for the helm. She plopped down into a small chair positioned in front of a table hanging from the leftmost wall. It wasn't large enough to sit two, so they mainly used it as a workbench, eating elsewhere whenever they had the chance of performing the ritual together.

Along the top of the grappling hook, almost running its entire length, were two bronze metal canisters. Both of their metal front ends were ripped and torn, razor sharp at some spots. These canisters would have held pressurized air, releasing small amounts when triggered to propel the small, metal hook- resembling an arrowhead- from the grappling hook's end. Maija had been through hell to get her hands on one and learned a lot about its mechanics through the journey.

She could bolt some metal over the tops of the canisters to hold air in, but Maija would still need to fill them and there was no way she was going to be able to fill these canisters with pressurized air herself. She was going to have to trade for them.

Movement behind startled her, she jumped up and spun around to see Makhai climbing aboard. He was far older than she was but still just as capable. He stood a foot taller than Maija and wore the jacket of a hunter, pulled tight by several belts around his chest, hip and legs. His head was covered with thick black hair which along with the hair that formed his beard, had just started graying.

She released her breath and rolled her eyes. Call it nervousness, anxiety, but everything managed to startle Maija. The simplest of sounds. It plagued her for as long as she could remember. Makhai always thought it was his fault- seemed to always blame himself, Maija knew she could be harsh at times, but the truth was, there was nothing he could do better.

"Did you find it?" he asked gingerly, his voice rough but unbelievably gentle.

Maija nodded and returned to her seat. "It's… damaged… but I got it."

"How bad?" he stepped up behind her after dropping a large bag of something heavy to the ship's deck. He softly set his hand on Maija's shoulder.

She sighed and dropped her hands to her lap. "Not too bad. Just need spare canisters." Maija paused. "I'm not going to ask you to buy me new canisters."

"I know you won't," was all he said. He turned back to the bag he had left in the middle of the floor. "Found some nice parts. Not the best but should do the trick."

He took something out and tossed it to Maija who caught it, the weight of the item pushing against her chest, cushioned by her grip. In her hands now sat an ancient actuator, rusted beyond belief but somehow still looking functional. With a little cleaning, Maija guessed she could probably get two maybe three royal blue pigments for this part. Far more than what two canisters of pressurized air would cost.

"Thank you," Maija said, slowly setting the actuator down on the workbench, using the same care as she did the grappling hook's container.

Makhai nodded, pulling a short stool up and sat down. "No need to thank me. Plus, a grappling hook would help us both out, no matter who is wearing it."

Maija nodded.

"So," Makhai said standing back up. "What you say we get going. Get back to Harborage before nightfall."

Maija nodded and turned back to the table, setting the grappling hook aside for now. Instead, she reached down and pulled out a metal pail filled with water bubbling from soap. Floating in the water was a sponge and several tools for scraping, rubbing, and washing. Wetting the actuator slightly and dabbing with the sponge, she started scrubbing away dust and grime from the hundred-year-old part layer by layer.

Maija quickly immersed herself in the task. She hadn't noticed their ship's engines sputtered on. But she did notice when they stopped. And they weren't anywhere near an island.

"What happened?" Maija asked. By now, she had gotten most of the dirt off the actuator and had set it aside to dry. She didn't know why she asked anymore and was already moving towards a box of tools and spare parts.

Makhai groaned and stepped back from the helm, "The engines again."

These engines were just as junk as the rest of the ship. Since they'd been constructed, they had never performed as they should. Consuming far too much fuel than necessary, coming to a stop midflight needing to be completely reconstructed to be functional again. Maija was sick of dealing with them and their inaccessibility didn't make it any easier. Hanging off the side of the ship, Maija had to climb along the outside and underneath the engines to get to their insides. Hanging over a practically endless void wasn't something Maija will ever get used to.

"Let's just get this over with quickly," Maija said choosing several tools from the box and slipping them in through her belt loops and pockets.

Makhai followed Maija out but rather than climbing along the side of the ship, he climbed to the top and started unfurling a single sail. Its white cloth caught the winds and the ship jolted slightly as it began moving forwards once again. Using the sails might be slow, but at least they were making some progress.

Maija had just reached the left most engine. A Piped Smokie E3. Both its casing and propeller were made of wood and its inside from lead. Not the best choice of metal. She was confident enough to blame the lead for these engine's malfunctions. If only they could afford more.

And they could. This actuator, pooled in with some of Maija's own money, could buy them a new pair of engines. She guessed with what she had saved up, they could get anything between Pinnacle to Stallion type engines. Metal engines. They could probably finally fly though a windwall. New territory. Maija could easily find other canisters for her grappling hook on the other side, right?

She got to work, pulling off a thick wooden panel along the engine's side, revealing its metal innards. Maija discarded it, letting the plate of wood fall to the void below. If everything went to plan, these engines would only need to get them to the next island.

Maija almost immediately spotted the problem. A large tree branch had managed to wedge itself within the engine's compressor, it's tough bark too thick for the gears of the compressor to crush through. Not too hard a fix but she needed to be careful. The branch looked thick enough to break some of the more fragile parts of the engine's interior if pulled the wrong way.

She reached in, grabbing the wooden casing with her left hand then reached her right in up to the shoulder. Maija closed her eyes, imagining the brown wooden branch wedged between the casing's far side and compressor- visualizing the inside of the engine and its intricate parts as if she had seen them a hundred time because she had. She wiggled it. It gave just slightly. Pushing and pulling, nudging the branch in every direction she before it slipped.

The branch clattered inside the engine before falling from its bottom, knocked against the side of the ship before following the wooden panel into the void. Just after Maija pulled her hand from the casing, the engine sputtered back to life, puffing black clouds of smoke from its exhaust pipe, generating wind behind it that ruffled through Maija's hair. She let her body fall from the bottom of the engine, now hanging freely beneath it, every muscle through her arms flexed, a fork of blood vessels popping out from the nook of her elbow.

Maija had been in this area of the world for her entire life. Makhai had been stranded here for just as long. Not too much longer now. Not too much longer and they'll finally be out of here.

"Get it fixed?"

Maija nodded as she stepped back into the ship's protective interior, stepping over barrels and weaving around larger crates that lined the walls of the ship's main room. She emptied her belt and pockets of tools she had never ended up using and returned to the workbench. The broken canisters on her grappling hook were secured tightly in place by two pentagonal bolts on each side. A thick rubber tube connected the ends of the canisters to a pipe housing the grappling hook's "hook." Luckily enough for her, she had just the tool.

She unscrewed the bolt and set them aside, four of them in total. She twisted the rubber tubes carefully from the grappling hook's frame, each one coming loose with a quick release of air. The broken canisters slipped free and clattered to the floor.

"Almost there," Makhai called back to her from his place at the helm. "Get ready."

The ship jolted shortly after and swayed slightly forwards as it docked at a shipyard, pulled and locked into position by the shipyard's ancient mechanisms. Finally, it came to a complete stop with the sound of metal clanging together that vibrated through the ship's frame. By the time they had arrived, it was night, and the world was dark.

Maija tossed the grappling hook into a netted bag hanging from the wall and moved towards the door, grabbing the actuator as she left.

"I got this one." Makhai moved to argue but Maija cut him off. "You've been flying all evening. Get some rest."

He sighed. "I'm not going to argue with that."

Footsteps greeted Maija as she landed on the metal shipyard, the device forming a blue bubble of energy around the ship- a protective bubble that not only provided contact point for grappling hooks, but also protected the ship inside from bullet and cannon fire. Maija never had anyone attempt to speak to her when docking here. Usually, the only thing people here cared about was getting pigments.

Two men stepped up to her, guns in both of their hands. They spoke in friendly tones, but their faces told a different story. They were bored and tired of dealing with greedy traders. "Sorry to bother you ma'am but we're going to need to search the ship before you continue. Do you have any other passengers on board?"

Maija frowned. "Yes. Why?"

"Ship searches are mandatory since New Unity was sighted in the area," the other man said, he, sounding less patient, ready to retire after a long day. Maija was in the same boat. "Now we ask again, do you have any other passengers on board?"

Maija clenched her teeth before stepping aside, waving to the imaginary front door to her ship. "Go ahead. I've got one."

The man nodded and climbed aboard, the other staying behind. His eyes searched Maija before fixating on the arrows resting in her quiver, the feathers a bright yellow.

He flashed a kind smile. Somehow genuine. The momentary relief blooming in Maija's chest was destroyed by his next sentence. "I'm also going to have to confiscate your weapons ma'am."

"What?" Maija stepped back, resting her hand along the side of the leather hip quiver.

"Island rules unfortunately." He tightened his grip on his own weapon. "I need both the bow and arrows before I can let you continue."

Maija glowered down at him from her position atop the shipyard. As she stepped down, she shrunk several feet in height, her eye level coming just up to the man's collarbone. She couldn't imagine giving up her only source of protection just for some trading- which likely won't even do much for her after all. But she unclipped the quiver from her belt and let it fall to the ground. She did the same for the bow but set it down more gently, refusing to break eye contact. The man seemed less than thrilled by her attitude.

Maija made for the end of the stone dock they had parked on, stepping around the man. He didn't move to stop her.

"And don't call me ma'am," Maija called back just before she was out of earshot.