“I think we’re out of time. Just hold on.”
Controlled demolitionwas the singular thought that ran through Jo’s mind. Her magic surrounded every corner of the vessel. Like a sixth sense, Jo understood its construction, every support and load-bearing wall.
Such a little flex of her magic reaped such big destruction.
The airship’s sides popped like popcorn, bolts flying off. A large crack ran down the length of the ship. Boards splintered away and whole sections collapsed.
“A hole is going to open there.” Jo thrust out a hand, beginning to move in the same motion. “Get ready to jump. I have no idea how high up we’re docked.”
To her team’s credit, they didn’t hesitate.
The front of the ship cracked and fell away before them like a hatch opening. Takako was the first one out, followed shortly by Samson. Wayne stalled, but only briefly, before leaping awkwardly down to a pile of boards that had fallen like a ramp before him.
Debris fell around them like confetti as they tumbled to the ground that was—thankfully—not too far away. Shouting rose from within the airship and outside, but dulled briefly the moment Jo felt her body hit the ground, hard. She sprang back into action, expecting the pain to linger but feeling better than before.
The rest of her team didn’t quite bounce back in the same way, but they pulled themselves together nonetheless.
“We need to go.” Jo tugged on Samson’s elbow.
“My supplies . . .” Samson swallowed, looking back toward the crumbling ship. With one more brief glance, he shook his head and ran forward, toward where Wayne and Jo had already begun pressing along the hull of another airship.
“Stand back, stand back!” someone with a thick accent was saying—an accent Jo now assumed to be Elvish.
“There’s people trapped. Call healers!”
The four kept moving in the tight space between the hulls of airships and the ledge at their side. With the ruckus behind them, they went unnoticed, slipping around the hull of the fourth ship and up onto the platform where passengers, crew, and staff were running.
“This way,” Samson said, keeping his head down.
Just like that, he led them though the lavish terminal with a flash of something Jo guessed was akin to a visa in her time, and a quick exchange of some words in what must have been Elvish. The real customs guard was more focused on the commotion at the platform than inspecting things too closely, and he waved them through to the busy central receiving area for the airship port. Beyond that was a giant cul-de-sac filled with vehicles, birds, and even a horse or two (if you count rainbow colored, equine-looking creatures with chicken feet as horses).
That was where they all stopped and seemed to take a collective breath of fresh air.
“It’s only about an hour walk from here,” Samson said, starting for the exit.
“I’m done walking, and sneaking, and being smuggled. It’ll be faster if we get a car.”
Before any of them could object, Wayne gave a confident wave and heralded what must pass for a taxi here in Myrth. Albeit, the nicest taxi she’d ever had the pleasure of riding in. The interior was made of a strange leather, one she’d only ever seen in the Society in Snow’s room, and Jo wondered if she’d now find out what animal it came from.
The driver donned a pair of gloves, dotted in obsidian and sapphire, and gave a nod after Samson finished speaking. The second they came into contact with the wheel, both his digits and the dashboard glowed and the car began to move—powered entirely by the man’s magic.
Jo tilted her head back, sighing again, letting the sights and sounds of the city wash over her as if she weren’t still on the run. Men and women of all shapes and sizes went about their business. She realized she had assumed that all elves were dark skinned like Eslar, but that proved categorically untrue. She saw every skin tone imaginable, coupled with every hair color.
As they passed an outdoor theater, Jo witnessed a man orating a story, casting bright illusions that swept over the crowd. They drove through an upscale area where the men and women seemed to wear endless strings of sapphire and silver. And, for just a second, Jo got a glimpse of the long road that led to the Sapphire Bridge.
“Like this, it should only be about ten more minutes.” Samson twisted around his front seat to tell them.
“Good, the sooner we can get inside the better,” Takako muttered.
“Agreed,” Jo mumbled, closing her eyes and letting the rumbling of the car fill her mind. It served as a poor distraction. All she could think of was the feel of the leather under her palms, and the memories of Snow’s room.
Chapter 9
If You Don’t, I Will
In no time, they were parked in front of a decent sized and homey looking building, cerulean tiles dotting the roof to complement the terracotta and Cherrywood of the facade. The door was painted a vibrant teal and boasted a sign that said, “Commissioned Craftswork, Enquire Within.” Jo’s heart clenched when she saw the small attempt at a painted bird in the corner.
“Here we are,” Samson mumbled, getting out of the car as Wayne took the liberty of paying the driver. “It’s not very large inside . . .”
