was a wedding band.
"Outside, your man called you Captain Freel," Slowhand said. "Captain Freel . My Gods, you married one of them didn't you?"
Jenna pulled her arm away, straightened her robe. "Sorry you weren't invited to the wedding, brother. The ceremony was in Scholten Cathedral. The Anointed Lord herself officiated."
"And how voluntary was that , Jenna? Who is he, your husband? Is he here?"
"Lord of All, you never change, do you? No, Killiam, he isn't here. He's on special assignment, just like me."
Just like you , Slowhand thought. And just like Konstantin Munch had been before the shit had hit the fan. "Do you ever think," he said, "that the Final Faith has its fingers in too many pies?"
Again, Jenna hesitated. "They... I..."
"What?" Slowhand demanded. But before Jenna could elaborate, the airship jarred suddenly and he realised that it had just entered the cradle they had been heading towards and that the cradle was, in fact, an elevator. Clamping them into position it then began to rise. Jenna pulled her arm away, suddenly all business once more.
"Mister Ransom, prepare to couple the orb feed. Mister Blane, disengage the canopy locks. Port and starboard rudders down and neutral, people. Let's get this done and get ourselves out of here!"
Despite the sudden burst of activity around him, Slowhand wasn't going to let Jenna's comment go, and he followed his sister as she went about her business, adjusting various dials and levers as the elevator reached its destination and began to turn on its own axis, positioning the airship's strange, pulsating orb before a huge panel. The crewman called Ransom began to link umbilical looking pipes up to it, and while he and the others were professionally adept at what they did - clearly familiar with the airship's workings - a number of things were now becoming clear to Slowhand.
"This isn't your ship, is it, sis? It's Old Race, scavenged from the remains of their technology and put together piecemeal. And this isn't your final destination, either, is it?" As Jenna helped crew position a gantry so that they could reach a rock platform filled with more modern machines and crates, which the crew then proceeded to load, he persisted. "All this equipment? What are you up to, Jenna? Where are you going?"
Jenna span to face him. "Going, brother? We aren't going anywhere. In fact, we're running away from somewhere - as fast as we can."
"Somewhere or something?" Slowhand said with sudden realisation. "On the ship, what you said when those things came. You knew what the k'nid were, didn't you?"
"The k'nid?"
"Yes, the k'nid. The things that attacked your ship."
"Oh, so they've been given a name."
"Is it those things you're running from? What the hells are they? Where do they come from?"
Jenna stared at him defiantly, as if she were not going to answer, but then, as he held her eyes, she seemed to relent slightly. "There has been... a mistake," she said slowly, swallowing. "We need to rearm, reinforce, return to rectify what we have -"
"That is enough ," Querilous Fitch interrupted, grabbing Jenna by the wrist and spinning her around. "This civilian cannot be allowed to know the business of the Final -"
"Hey!" Slowhand shouted, moving forward. "Get your hands off this civilian's sister or you're gonna find out just how un civil he can -"
Fitch's gaze snapped to him and, for a second, Slowhand swore he could see the blood vessels in his eyes dart and writhe like a nest of snakes.
"Or what?" he said disdainfully, and the archer suddenly found himself airborne, though this time with no dirigible beneath him.
The dismissive snap of the arm with which Fitch had accompanied his words had, seemingly without any effort on his part at all, flung him upwards and backwards with such force that he found himself hurtling through the harbour towards the energy panel from which the dirigible crystal fed. He impacted so hard that the wind was knocked completely out of him.
"My Gods,
"Outside, your man called you Captain Freel," Slowhand said. "Captain Freel . My Gods, you married one of them didn't you?"
Jenna pulled her arm away, straightened her robe. "Sorry you weren't invited to the wedding, brother. The ceremony was in Scholten Cathedral. The Anointed Lord herself officiated."
"And how voluntary was that , Jenna? Who is he, your husband? Is he here?"
"Lord of All, you never change, do you? No, Killiam, he isn't here. He's on special assignment, just like me."
Just like you , Slowhand thought. And just like Konstantin Munch had been before the shit had hit the fan. "Do you ever think," he said, "that the Final Faith has its fingers in too many pies?"
Again, Jenna hesitated. "They... I..."
"What?" Slowhand demanded. But before Jenna could elaborate, the airship jarred suddenly and he realised that it had just entered the cradle they had been heading towards and that the cradle was, in fact, an elevator. Clamping them into position it then began to rise. Jenna pulled her arm away, suddenly all business once more.
"Mister Ransom, prepare to couple the orb feed. Mister Blane, disengage the canopy locks. Port and starboard rudders down and neutral, people. Let's get this done and get ourselves out of here!"
Despite the sudden burst of activity around him, Slowhand wasn't going to let Jenna's comment go, and he followed his sister as she went about her business, adjusting various dials and levers as the elevator reached its destination and began to turn on its own axis, positioning the airship's strange, pulsating orb before a huge panel. The crewman called Ransom began to link umbilical looking pipes up to it, and while he and the others were professionally adept at what they did - clearly familiar with the airship's workings - a number of things were now becoming clear to Slowhand.
"This isn't your ship, is it, sis? It's Old Race, scavenged from the remains of their technology and put together piecemeal. And this isn't your final destination, either, is it?" As Jenna helped crew position a gantry so that they could reach a rock platform filled with more modern machines and crates, which the crew then proceeded to load, he persisted. "All this equipment? What are you up to, Jenna? Where are you going?"
Jenna span to face him. "Going, brother? We aren't going anywhere. In fact, we're running away from somewhere - as fast as we can."
"Somewhere or something?" Slowhand said with sudden realisation. "On the ship, what you said when those things came. You knew what the k'nid were, didn't you?"
"The k'nid?"
"Yes, the k'nid. The things that attacked your ship."
"Oh, so they've been given a name."
"Is it those things you're running from? What the hells are they? Where do they come from?"
Jenna stared at him defiantly, as if she were not going to answer, but then, as he held her eyes, she seemed to relent slightly. "There has been... a mistake," she said slowly, swallowing. "We need to rearm, reinforce, return to rectify what we have -"
"That is enough ," Querilous Fitch interrupted, grabbing Jenna by the wrist and spinning her around. "This civilian cannot be allowed to know the business of the Final -"
"Hey!" Slowhand shouted, moving forward. "Get your hands off this civilian's sister or you're gonna find out just how un civil he can -"
Fitch's gaze snapped to him and, for a second, Slowhand swore he could see the blood vessels in his eyes dart and writhe like a nest of snakes.
"Or what?" he said disdainfully, and the archer suddenly found himself airborne, though this time with no dirigible beneath him.
The dismissive snap of the arm with which Fitch had accompanied his words had, seemingly without any effort on his part at all, flung him upwards and backwards with such force that he found himself hurtling through the harbour towards the energy panel from which the dirigible crystal fed. He impacted so hard that the wind was knocked completely out of him.
"My Gods,
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