castle?”
“Nobody knows who shapes the castles,” Durny saidthoughtfully. “They appear out of the Westtern Cloudwall and drift across into the Eastern Cloudwall. Today is a quiet day. You can often see a dozen or more from a single spot. While the castles migrate from one cloudwall to the other, we salvage what we can.”
“Wait,” Cole said in disbelief. “The Sky Raiders raid the castles?”
“You’re catching on,” Durny approved. “And you’ll be helping us.”
“How do you get to them? Planes? Helicopters?”
“Skycraft. Flying ships.”
“How do they fly?”
Durny glanced toward the sun. “Last question. We need to get indoors before dark. Near the base of the castles are suspensors, commonly called floatstones. They keep the castles aloft. We harvest them from time to time and use them in the construction of skycraft.”
Cole could not believe what he was hearing and seeing. But it was hard to argue with the sight of the castle in the distance. After all, he had crossed over to a mysterious world through a manhole in a spook alley, and he had held a conversation with a happy face. “The job is dangerous? Raiding the castles?”
Durny gave a snort. “I said no more questions, but what do you think? Now come—let’s go meet your owner.”
C HAPTER
7
SKYPORT
S kyport, as Durny named it, came into view just before the sun dipped below the horizon. The Brink was ragged and far from level. They had not paralleled the edge long before finding a shallow basin that looked like half a valley because it ended so abruptly. Skyport was nestled down at the bottom.
Constructed from stone and heavy timbers, the sprawling main building perched right at the edge of the Brink. Several balconies and porches projected out over the drop. To Cole, the structure looked one medium-size earthquake away from tumbling off the end of the world.
There were several smaller outbuildings scattered around, including a stable and a modest barn. A tall wall enclosed a huge area behind the main building, which Cole assumed was the Cliffside Salvage Yard. Between the distance, the bad lighting, and the height of the surrounding barrier, Cole couldn’t tell what was inside.
A bell clanged as Durny led the mule train down thegentle slope to Skyport. Men and teens hustled out to help unpack the mules. The people wore odd clothing. One burly man sported a furry vest. Another had a T-shirt featuring fried-egg eyes above a bacon smile. One of the teens wore a dark-blue military jacket glittering with medals.
Unsure how to contribute, Cole stood off to the side as Durny gave instructions. He noticed men standing guard around the perimeter of the buildings. There were lots of people here and not much cover on the surrounding slopes. Making an escape would be tricky. He couldn’t afford to blow it, so he would get to know the area first. If he kept his eyes open, sooner or later the right opportunity would arise.
Before long, Durny came over to him. “This way, slave. Time to meet your master.”
Cole followed Durny up wooden steps to a porch. He noticed an ivory rocking chair, a silk hammock, a chest made of solid iron, and a hairy creature, with a head at either end, inside a cage.
There was no time to consider these sights, because Durny pushed through the door into a busy common room. Most everyone was male—the youngest around Cole’s age; the oldest, gray-haired or bald. Some of them were eating, some played cards, others sat talking. Slave marks abounded.
Durny led the way to a beefy man with a graying beard and long curly hair, who sat on a cushioned, elaborate throne carved from translucent jade. The magnificent seat would have looked out of place in the saloon-type atmosphere if not for the other odd treasures scattered around the room—a gleaming stack of gold bars, a platinum sarcophagus studdedwith jewels, an ornate harpsichord, and a stuffed creature much larger and fiercer-looking than any
“Nobody knows who shapes the castles,” Durny saidthoughtfully. “They appear out of the Westtern Cloudwall and drift across into the Eastern Cloudwall. Today is a quiet day. You can often see a dozen or more from a single spot. While the castles migrate from one cloudwall to the other, we salvage what we can.”
“Wait,” Cole said in disbelief. “The Sky Raiders raid the castles?”
“You’re catching on,” Durny approved. “And you’ll be helping us.”
“How do you get to them? Planes? Helicopters?”
“Skycraft. Flying ships.”
“How do they fly?”
Durny glanced toward the sun. “Last question. We need to get indoors before dark. Near the base of the castles are suspensors, commonly called floatstones. They keep the castles aloft. We harvest them from time to time and use them in the construction of skycraft.”
Cole could not believe what he was hearing and seeing. But it was hard to argue with the sight of the castle in the distance. After all, he had crossed over to a mysterious world through a manhole in a spook alley, and he had held a conversation with a happy face. “The job is dangerous? Raiding the castles?”
Durny gave a snort. “I said no more questions, but what do you think? Now come—let’s go meet your owner.”
C HAPTER
7
SKYPORT
S kyport, as Durny named it, came into view just before the sun dipped below the horizon. The Brink was ragged and far from level. They had not paralleled the edge long before finding a shallow basin that looked like half a valley because it ended so abruptly. Skyport was nestled down at the bottom.
Constructed from stone and heavy timbers, the sprawling main building perched right at the edge of the Brink. Several balconies and porches projected out over the drop. To Cole, the structure looked one medium-size earthquake away from tumbling off the end of the world.
There were several smaller outbuildings scattered around, including a stable and a modest barn. A tall wall enclosed a huge area behind the main building, which Cole assumed was the Cliffside Salvage Yard. Between the distance, the bad lighting, and the height of the surrounding barrier, Cole couldn’t tell what was inside.
A bell clanged as Durny led the mule train down thegentle slope to Skyport. Men and teens hustled out to help unpack the mules. The people wore odd clothing. One burly man sported a furry vest. Another had a T-shirt featuring fried-egg eyes above a bacon smile. One of the teens wore a dark-blue military jacket glittering with medals.
Unsure how to contribute, Cole stood off to the side as Durny gave instructions. He noticed men standing guard around the perimeter of the buildings. There were lots of people here and not much cover on the surrounding slopes. Making an escape would be tricky. He couldn’t afford to blow it, so he would get to know the area first. If he kept his eyes open, sooner or later the right opportunity would arise.
Before long, Durny came over to him. “This way, slave. Time to meet your master.”
Cole followed Durny up wooden steps to a porch. He noticed an ivory rocking chair, a silk hammock, a chest made of solid iron, and a hairy creature, with a head at either end, inside a cage.
There was no time to consider these sights, because Durny pushed through the door into a busy common room. Most everyone was male—the youngest around Cole’s age; the oldest, gray-haired or bald. Some of them were eating, some played cards, others sat talking. Slave marks abounded.
Durny led the way to a beefy man with a graying beard and long curly hair, who sat on a cushioned, elaborate throne carved from translucent jade. The magnificent seat would have looked out of place in the saloon-type atmosphere if not for the other odd treasures scattered around the room—a gleaming stack of gold bars, a platinum sarcophagus studdedwith jewels, an ornate harpsichord, and a stuffed creature much larger and fiercer-looking than any
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