Chapter 1 - The New Job
Balasi blinked as he muzzily tried to figure out what had woken him. Yawning he stared idly at the wooden beams two feet from his face, luxuriating in the feel of not having to move, cuddled into the blankets as the hammock under him rocked the slightest bit.
"Balasi! Eleniel! Get up you two!" his mother called down the ladder. "Breakfast is ready! Remember we are flying today so hurry up!"
Oh, that's what it was. Mama shouting, he thought to himself. She may be short but she has a really loud voice.
Balasi yawned and stretched, trying to eke out another 30 seconds of blissful warmth. However the smell of hot food quickly coaxed him out of his oh-so-comfortable nest. Sighing in resignation he rolled sideways, making the lip of the hammock touch the floor and gently deposit him on the thick rug beside it.
Still lying on his back he wiggled into his trousers and grabbed his tunic. Bending over to avoid the low ceiling he scrambled out of his quarters deep in the wing and into the lower hold. Straightening up he slid the tunic on just as his sister appeared at the other side of the hold.
"Morning Linny," he said, stretching, "Ready for breakfast?"
"My name is Eleniel, Balasi," She said with an impatient toss of her head. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Linny?"
"Naw, Eleniel's an elf's name," he teased her. "You're too short to be an elf. Your ears aren't pointed and your skin's way too brown."
"Jerk," his sister retorted. "At least I'm not named for somebody who stays up all night and stares at the sky like a sheep in the rain."
"Ba–aa–aa–aa," he said grinning, before turning and dashing up the steep wide stairs his mother insisted on calling a ladder. His younger sister growled and raced after him, her shorter legs ensuring she reached the ship's mess well behind her brother.
"Hey there, Bally, slow down!" his father admonished him, laughing. "There's plenty for everybody. Go help your mother bring in the rest of breakfast."
"Ok, Pabbi," his replied, reversing course and brushing past his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him.
As he came through the galley door his mother was just putting the last of the food on the plates.
"Balasi, good morning," she said warmly. "Take Eleniel's plate too. I will get your father's."
"Yes, Mama," he replied.
Carefully picking up the two plates he returned to the mess and gave his sister her food. By the time he sat down his mother had settled next to their father and retrieved the jug from the middle of the table.
She murmured a few words and ran her finger down its length. White mist poured off the jug for a moment, then vanished.
"Would you like some apple juice, dear?" She asked, picking up a mug.
"Yes, please," he said eagerly. She handed him the mug and proceeded to pour one for the rest of them.
He sipped appreciatively, the icy juice biting at his tongue. Setting the mug down, he devoured his breakfast like a starving wolf, finishing long before everyone else. He fidgeted in place, a disapproving glance from his mother the only thing keeping him from drumming his fingers.
"Eleniel, you will be on the helm today," her mother said as she cut her ham. "I have to redo the preservation spells in the panty. After that your father needs me on deck in case we run into trouble, so you will be on the helm all day."
"Hurray! No lessons today!" the little girl cheered.
"I did not say that," her mother said drily, making Eleniel sag.
"How come Linny gets to fly?" Balasi whined. "I can fly the ship too!"
"We want to get there sometime this month, snail," Eleniel snarked. "Unlike you I can fly nearly as fast as Mama can."
"We cannot all be prodigies, Eleniel," her mother said reprovingly. "At least Balasi can man the helm. Not something just anyone can do."
"Yeah, but he's so slow," Eleniel protested. "Even Pabbi can fly faster than him! He can barely outrun a walking horse!"
"That's enough, Eleniel," her father said calmly. "Balasi might not be a fast flyer but he's a dead shot with a ballista and he can crank and load it a lot faster than you can."
"Only cause he's bigger than me," she sniffed.
"I can raise the sails a lot faster too," Balasi noted, "You can barely move the sheets by yourself. Oh, and I know how to handle a cutlass."
His sister snickered.
"Yeah, I've seen you," she snarked. "Pabbi wipes the floor with you when you two spar."
"I'm a lot more experienced fighter than he is, Princess," her father chuckled, ruffling his daughter's hair. "I've been in a lot more fights than Balasi ever will be, gods willing."
"May Fu Xing grant our family that!" his mother said fervently. "Fights are no laughing matter, Eleniel. I've told you both stories about our adventures. I'd rather the two of you never have to face what your father and I have."
"Well, when do I get to learn the cutlass?" Eleniel whined. "I can't always run and hide. Something may catch me and then I'll really be in trouble!"
Husband and wife exchanged glances.
"She's got a point, Jia," he said gently.
"I know, but she is so young," his wife complained.
"I'm nine, Mama!" Eleniel said in exasperation. "I'm crew, and it's not like we do milk runs! That dagger Pabbi gave me for my birthday won't do me any good hanging on the bulkhead! And when are you going to start teaching me spells?"
"We do not know if you inherited my talent, Eleniel," her mother said with a sigh. "Other than your flying skill you have not shown any signs of sorcery yet."
"I know, but you haven't tried teaching me either!" her daughter complained.
"Sorcery is not taught, Eleniel," her mother said patiently. "You know this. It comes from within. If you have any it will manifest in time. It cannot be rushed. It will come when it comes. On that day I can begin to advise you about your magic. But until then there is nothing to be done."
"What about when you chilled the juice?" Eleniel demanded. "That's a cantrip, right? Just about anybody can learn cantrips! Utaz told me that in Draycott!"
"Utaz is a wizard, my angel, not a sorcerer." Jia said dismissively. "Wizardry takes years to master. I am not a wizard. I cannot teach you cantrips any more than I can teach you spells. It's all sorcery."
"What about your spell book then?" Eleniel persisted. "Sorcerers don't use spell books do they? Doesn't that mean you're a wizard?"
"It is a ritual book, Eleniel, not a spell book. While those rituals are wizardry they aren't spells, they're rituals. Cast a completely different way than a wizard's spells, and still powered by sorcery, not arcane magic. So even if you performed a ritual perfectly, nothing would happen without your own sorcery to power it."
"If I didn't have some kind of magic, I couldn't fly the Morning Dove, right?" Eleniel asked slyly. "I certainly couldn't fly it as fast as I do. So if I can do that, which is supposed to be impossible, isn't that my inner sorcery showing up?"
Jia paused, considering. "If it was sorcery you would not be able to fly any faster than Balasi," she finally said. "I have no idea why you can fly so fast, especially at your age. Perhaps it is a blessing from Fu Xing."
"Wish he'd have given me spells too," Eleniel grumbled as her brother smirked.
"It is not for mortals to complain about the gifts the gods choose to grant us, my daughter," Jia said sternly. "You have a rare gift, do not be ungrateful."
"Yes, Mama," Eleniel winced at the reprimand.
"Hey Princess, tell you what," her father said. "Tonight, once we make sure the ship's safe, why don't I show you some of the basics of using your dagger?"
"You mean it?" she asked, brightening.
"Kolur, are you sure about this?" Jia asked, concerned. "What if she cuts herself?"
"Well, little Miss Divine Soul," he said with a grin, "you can cure wounds, right? Besides, we won't be using live steel. Give me some credit. I'll start her off with a wooden training dagger."
"Oh? And where did you get one of those?" his wife asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Two, actually," he answered with a grin. "I bought them along with her birthday present, of course."
"Of course," she said drily. "I thought I smelled a rat. You have been planning this all along, my husband."
"Yes I have," he said nodding. "We do exploration, honey, not just colonial transport and cargo runs. Eleniel is right. She needs to know how to use a dagger at least. Just in case. You know I'm right."
"I know," she admitted reluctantly. "It is just I did not think it would happen so soon. She is still a little girl, Kolur!"
"She is," he nodded. "But she's also part of our crew. And like she said, we don't do milk runs. There's always some risk, no matter how careful we are."
"She is also sitting right here," Eleniel growled. "Morning Dove is my home, Mama. I go where she goes. You don't complain about Pabbi training Balasi with a cutlass. Why am I any different?"
"He is twelve," her mother retorted. "You are nine."
"I've worked on deck for over a year," she pointed out, "I've been flying the Dove for nearly six months. If you can trust me on deck, and to fly, why not trust me to fight?"
"Because it is far too dangerous, my angel," her mother retorted. "Being crew and flying is not the same thing as facing down a pirate with only a knife!"
"You've done it," Eleniel said, then paled as her mother stiffened. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mama!"
"That was a long time ago," her mother said quietly, forcing herself to relax. "You're right. I did have to fight a pirate with just a knife. They caught me while I was on the helm, so I did not have any spells, just my dagger. But remember, I was twice your age, we had a large crew, and I still ended up facing a neogi and a pair of umber hulks. I lost, Eleniel! I nearly died in that slaver ship, suffering in that hell for months."
Her family watched as she shuddered.
"I do not want that to happen to you," she continued, "ever. I would die before I let that happen to you."
"We know," Kolur said, taking his wife's hand. "But better she know how to fight and not have to, than the other way round, right?"
Biting her lip, Jia finally nodded. Eleniel slipped out of her seat and hugged her mother tightly.
"I'm sorry I reminded you of that, Mama," the girl said on the edge of tears, "I'm sorry!"
Jia hugged her daughter tightly enough to make the girl squeak, and kissed the top of her head.
"Not your fault, my sweet angel," she murmured. "It was a long time ago. I need to let it go. Now, we've wasted enough time. We need to get ready to fly. Balasi, help me wash up and secure the galley. Eleniel, go warm up the helm while the rest of us see to the rigging."
Back in the galley Balasi couldn't help noticing how forcefully his mother attacked the dishes by hand instead of using a cantrip like she usually did, or how she tightened down the hatch fastenings on the stove like they owed her money.
Wisely, he kept quiet as he went up on deck to help his father ready for departure while her mother went up to the helm to give Eleniel their course.