Cinnamon Bun Volume 6 E-Book

RavensDagger

• Herausgeber: Podium Publishing
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Cinnamon Bun
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 624

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

As pirates plunder and diplomats disappear, Broccoli Bunch and her friends come to the rescue, in the sixth installment of this cozy fantasy adventure. The Sylph kingdom of Goldenalden is rife with conflict and intrigue, and Broccoli's newest friend, Princess Caprica Sylph, is right in the middle of the chaos. She's in desperate need of some friends who can help her navigate what's looking to be a heap of trouble. Most pressingly, there's the disappearance of a harpy delegation from the Harpy Mountains. After the entire small fleet, including several diplomats, fails to show up to one of the most important summits in recent history, it becomes overwhelmingly clear that something nefarious is afoot. With Broccoli's long-time nemesis Rainnewt stewing behind bars, who could be responsible for this kerfuffle? Princess Caprica assigns Broccoli and the rest of the crew of the Beaver Cleaver airship to find out who's behind the devious plot and save the diplomats. But the most challenging part of the mission? Staying out of trouble. Failure isn't an option, especially when a deadly war is looming. One thing's for sure: the pressure's building, and Broccoli's crewmate Amaryllis might just pluck out her own headfeathers in exasperation. Broccoli knows that hope and a positive outlook can solve most issues, but will her friendliness be enough to save lives and prevent any unnecessary violence?

Leseprobe

Cinnamon Bun

• Volume 6 •

RavensDagger

To my old man, who was an artist from start to finish. Thank you for always encouraging me. I miss you.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from Podium Publishing.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2025 by Edgar Malboeuf

Cover design by Yanhong Lu

ISBN: 978-1-0394-8732-1

Published in 2025 by Podium Publishing

www.podiumentertainment.com

Contents

Chapter One Adventurers for Hire

Chapter Two Broccoli & Friends Mercenary Company

Chapter Three Early to Bed and Early to Rise

Chapter Four Introductions Are in Order

Chapter Five Flight of the Wyverns

Chapter Six Successful Insertion

Chapter Seven Campfire Ladies

Chapter Eight Smother

Chapter Nine Fortune Seeker

Chapter Ten Meat New People

Chapter Eleven Catching Up

Chapter Twelve Our Little Ponies

Chapter Thirteen Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head

Chapter Fourteen Crash Scene Investigators

Chapter Fifteen Piracy in the High Skies

Chapter Sixteen Abandoned Ship

Chapter Seventeen Finders Keepers

Chapter Eighteen Redemption Arc

Chapter Nineteen A Little Bird Told Me

Chapter Twenty Message Delivered

Chapter Twenty-One Hopping the Border

Chapter Twenty-Two The Golden Gold Inn of Goldpass

Chapter Twenty-Three Diplomats in Distress

Chapter Twenty-Four Fusion Mode

Chapter Twenty-Five Provisioning

Chapter Twenty-Six Onto the River and Through the Woods

Chapter Twenty-Seven Food for Thought

Chapter Twenty-Eight The Amazing Spider-Mom

Chapter Twenty-Nine Mutually Assured Hugging

Chapter Thirty With Catlike Tread

Chapter Thirty-One Octagon

Chapter Thirty-Two Piracy’s a Crime and Crime Doesn’t Pay

Chapter Thirty-Three Prisoner Swap

Chapter Thirty-Four Employee Retention

Chapter Thirty-Five Upper Management

Chapter Thirty-Six The Enemy Always Gets a Vote

Chapter Thirty-Seven The Great Escape

Chapter Thirty-Eight Pirate Property

Chapter Thirty-Nine Bite the Gust

Chapter Forty If the Enemy Is in Superior Strength, Evade Them

Chapter Forty-One Booked for the Foreseeable Future

Chapter Forty-Two From Sylphfree with Love

Chapter Forty-Three Cultural Considerations

Chapter Forty-Four The Storm Tower

Chapter Forty-Five Hustle, Bustle, Toil & Trouble

Chapter Forty-Six Living History

Chapter Forty-Seven Passing the Torch

Chapter Forty-Eight Boltbound

Chapter Forty-Nine Stop, Drop, and Shop

Chapter Fifty Facial Hare

Chapter Fifty-One Dress-Up Games

Chapter Fifty-Two Late to Bed and Late to Rise

Chapter Fifty-Three Abomination Against Engineering and Good Sense

Chapter Fifty-Four Doorbuster

Chapter Fifty-Five Moral Fiber

Chapter Fifty-Six Pay for It

Chapter Fifty-Seven Polite Friction

Chapter Fifty-Eight The Wedding Trackers

Chapter Fifty-Nine Beauty and the Dragon

About the Author

• Chapter One •

Adventurers for Hire

We’re back!” I cheered while hanging off the airship’s side.

Below me was Goldenalden, the great big capital city of the Kingdom of Sylphfree, lit by the first clear rays of morning sunlight. It stuck off the side of a huge mountain, with sylph-made plateaus and carved-out sections of the mountain giving the city plenty of room. The sylph liked building things tall, on account of being able to fly.

A familiar taloned hand grabbed me by the scruff and pulled me back onto the deck. “Get away from the edge, you doofus, you’re going to trip off the side. I don’t care how good you are at jumping, you’ll splatter yourself at this height,” Amaryllis said.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I was filled with this great manic energy, and no amount of worrying from Amaryllis was going to rob me of it. “I was holding on,” I protested.

“Yes, and I’m sure you’ve never dropped anything before,” Amaryllis said with a huff. “You would feel quite stupid if you tripped off the side of the ship. At least for the few seconds it would take for you to hit the ground.”

I grinned, but she was probably right. “Okay, fine. Thanks for worrying.”

Amaryllis’s cheeks puffed and she strutted off in a huff.

“If you want,” Awen’s more timid voice said from next to me, “I could get some ropes and straps. That way you can hang off the edge of the ship all you want.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine,” I said. “Besides, it’s a bit windy.” I had to keep adjusting my ears and hair because both kept getting flicked around by stray gusts.

The ship—a sylph military vessel commandeered to get us to and from the Dungeon of the Lullaby Knight—was about as aerodynamic as any sylph ship, which is to say that it was basically a flying brick with sharply angled sides and a partially armored balloon.

The ship sailed past the busiest parts of Goldenalden, over the Blue and Red and Gold Districts, before we finally glided down toward the military port where sylphs in uniform flew up to meet the ship with long cables behind them.

Amaryllis returned, carrying her things as well as mine and Awen’s. “Here. I figured I would grab all of our things while I was below deck.”

“Thanks!” I said. I hadn’t brought too much on our last adventure. A small bag and Weedbane, my new scythe, were about it. Awen had a bunch more stuff, but she was a mechanic and she needed her tools and such.

The ship docked, a gangplank was fixed to its side, and after the first few sailors moved across it we squeezed past them and onto the docks.

“Okay,” I said as I walked with a bounce to my step. The docks clunked and bobbed beneath me. “Where to now?”

The sun had just come up after our overnight trip back to the capital, so we had a whole day ahead of us. I hadn’t slept a wink all night. Our guide in the Lullaby Knight Dungeon—Lieutenant Petalwrought—had given us potions that were meant to make us resistant to Sleep magic.

They definitely did, and they worked really well against normal sleep too. My friends and I had spent the night in a little cabin just chitchatting about everything and nothing.

“I suppose since this mission was given to us by the king, we ought to report back to him,” Amaryllis said. “But it would be somewhat unusual for three contractors to report directly to the king unless he specifically ordered us to do so.”

“We could pop over to the palace anyway and leave a message,” I suggested. “I bet he’s got secretaries.”

“When you’re a king they’re called stewards, but yes, he definitely has people who can take care of appointments for him,” Amaryllis said.

I glanced around, got my bearings thanks to the mountain peak poking out above the city, and then we set off to cross Goldenalden. Last time we’d come with a carriage, but this time we simply walked. It was early enough in the morning that most of the city was still sleeping, though birds were darting around after one another and the first townspeople to wake were already out and about.

We stuck to the ground level, where the traffic was even quieter. Most sylphs liked to fly around, or at least flutter from rooftop to rooftop, so the streets were relatively quiet except for the occasional donkey-drawn cart.

As we moved north toward the Gold District, the streets widened and apartment buildings gave way to stately homes and eventually small estates before we reached the walls surrounding the palace.

Two guards stood on either side of the gate, and more waited in the towers above. These weren’t city guards; they had much nicer armor and a lot more feathers and fluff on their helmets.

“Hello, sir,” I said as we came over. “I’m Captain Bunch, and this is Lady Bristlecone and Lady Albatross. We’re here to deliver a message to the king.”

The guard stared at me, then blinked. I think he might have been close to his change of shift, because it took a moment for him to realize that I was asking for something. “Ah, one moment, ma’am,” he said.

A cord was pulled, a bell was rung, and soon enough a butler-looking sylph flew over the front gate and greeted us with a bow. “I’m afraid His Majesty was not yet expecting you, though we do have orders to expect your arrival sometime today. If it would please you, we may extend the royal family’s hospitality to you and offer you one of the guest lounges until His Majesty is ready to receive supplicants and guests.”

“That would be fine,” Amaryllis said.

“Could we have snacks while we wait?” I asked.

The butler stared.

“We could pay you back. I’m really hungry.”

“Ah, yes, something could be arranged, of course. Please, follow me.”

The butler led us—and a complement of two guards—through the front gate and across the palace grounds. We entered, and then I immediately got lost as we navigated through an unfamiliar part of the palace.

The butler dropped us off in a room with a few lounge chairs, a couch, a low table, and a little bookcase next to a window overlooking one of the greenhouses next to the palace. “I shall return with refreshments in a moment,” he said before heading off.

The guards stayed on either side of the entrance to the room. They were really good at staring blankly ahead.

“Awa, do you think the king will want us to do more work with dungeons?” Awen asked.

“It’s a possibility,” Amaryllis said. “It’s good work, at least as far as pay and reputation goes, but I doubt it would last for very long. Training people to use Cleaning magic the way Broccoli does shouldn’t take too long. A few weeks at most. Sylphfree won’t lack for volunteers. Grab a few soldiers with appropriate classes, have them clean the latrines until they get the skill, then escort them through a few fights until they level up enough to pour points into Cleaning magic, and voila, you have a new person able to clear out Evil Roots.”

“It took me … about two months?” I said. I wasn’t great with keeping track of the date, so I just guesstimated how long I’d been on Dirt for.

“Which is impressive,” Amaryllis said. I puffed up with pride, but then she shattered that with her next words. “But I suspect that soldiers undergoing strenuous training could fairly easily go from level one to ten in as little as a month. Less, if risk is put aside in favor of speed.”

“Soldiers train that quickly?” Awen asked.

“Oh no,” Amaryllis said. “Soldiers can level that quickly. Given access to dungeons with guides, and able to face appropriate threats, they can definitely spend days at a time fighting and working to level up. The training to learn how to fight as a group, though? That can take several more months.”

“You know a lot about this,” I said.

She shrugged. “I had a passing interest in the matter back home. I recall that most career soldiers take six months to a year to train before they’re deployed anywhere, with frequent retraining and additional classes needed if they specialize in anything. If there’s a draft, though, the average training time is reduced to a handful of weeks.”

“That’s not very long,” Awen said.

“No, it isn’t, and so you can imagine that the quality will be similarly impacted.”

I tapped my chin, then turned to one of the guards. “Hey, mister guard. How much training did you get?”

He blinked, then glanced at his companion. “Ah, forgive me, ma’am, we … uh, aren’t meant to interact with guests.”

“Not even to answer questions?” I asked.

He nodded slightly.

“What if I need to use the ladies’ room and don’t know where it is?” I asked. “Would you just stand there while I did the have-to-pee dance?”

The guard’s cheeks definitely took on a reddish hue. He was saved from having to explain himself when someone appeared at the doorway. “Stop bullying the guards, Broccoli.”

“Caprica!” I said as the princess entered the room. She was in one of her usual outfits, a tight red uniform not too dissimilar to the one on the guard I’d been talking to—not bullying!—a moment ago, though hers was tailored very neatly, and the gold-colored gilding looked like actual gold as opposed to yellow thread. “It’s good to see you.”

“Has it even been more than a day?” she asked.

“Does it matter how long it’s been? I’m still happy to see you,” I said. I pulled Caprica into a tight-tight hug, making sure to be careful where I placed my hands on her back. I didn’t want to squish her wings.

Caprica patted my back in return. She was still a bit awkward about hugs, but I’d wear her down eventually. “Well, regardless of all that … how did it go?” She turned to Amaryllis and Awen, who gave her greetings of their own, though no hugs … yet.

“Dungeon cleared!” I cheered at an indoor-voice level.

“Broccoli’s right, the dungeon was cleared,” Amaryllis said. “She took out the Evil Roots. We’ll have to wait and see whether the dungeon itself will heal after this. I imagine some of the people who went down with us will be writing reports on the entire event for you to peruse.”

“They will,” Caprica said, “but it might take some time before I get access to those. Still, if you say the dungeon was cleared, I’ll believe you.”

“Awa, thank you,” Awen said.

Caprica found a seat on the plush couch and looked ready to say something when the butler sylph returned with a tray before him. He paused a bit on seeing the princess in the room, but then collected himself and placed his tray down on the coffee table before leaving the room with a bow.

There were slices of toast and pots of jam and little cream-filled pastries dusted in sugar. Sylph food was always super sweet.

“So, what’s the next step?” Amaryllis asked as she plucked a pastry off the platter and ate it in one bite.

“That depends,” Caprica said. She grabbed a piece of toast—which looked like it was still warm—and started spreading jam on it. “Mostly on what you want to do next. I imagine Father wouldn’t mind continuing to pay you to clean out our dungeons.”

“That could be fun,” I said. “But it sounds a bit too much like doing the same thing over and over.”

“Could be good for leveling,” Amaryllis pointed out.

I frowned, then picked one of the pastries for myself. It was gooey and yummy and I was lucky I had Cleaning magic or else I’d need to get my gambeson cleaned, because some cream spilled out of the back of the pastry when I bit into it and fell into my lap. “Mmm, yeah, but we’re here to save the World and have fun. Not just grind and get stronger.”

Awen giggled. “I guess not.”

“In that case,” Caprica said, “I think there’s another job you could do. But I’ll have to ask Father about it first. This is a somewhat politically sensitive issue and one that I think you’d be well suited to take care of.”

“Do tell,” Amaryllis said.

Caprica grinned.

• Chapter Two •

Broccoli & Friends Mercenary Company

Caprica took a moment more to make sure we were all comfortable, which meant asking about our tea preferences and what kinds of pastries we liked, then repeating that to one of her butlers. Once we were all comfy and settled, she got down to business. “You’re familiar with the harpy delegation that was meant to be at the summit?” Caprica asked.

My friends and I all nodded. “What’s going on with that, by the way?” I asked.

“The summit? For the moment it has been postponed. We haven’t set any sort of date for the second attempt. It would be a faux pas to organize something too hastily. I imagine that it will be a few weeks until we start planning another summit, this time with greater security.”

Amaryllis sighed. “And to think I wasted all that time preparing.”

Caprica chuckled. “I wouldn’t consider it entirely a waste. Your group left a much better impression on the nobility of Sylphfree than any speech could have.”

With a proud sort of huff, Amaryllis gestured for Caprica to continue. “You were talking about the delegation. Has the airship been discovered?”

“Not quite,” Caprica said. “We have an idea of where it was when it disappeared, but not an exact location. The army scoured the areas it was supposed to pass through, but nothing was found. Then they expanded their search to other routes the ship might’ve diverted to—but still, nothing.”

“Which either means that the army is incompetent beyond measure or the ship never made it to Sylphfree in the first place,” Amaryllis said.

“Maybe it flew too far east?” I suggested, trying to remember what Dirt looked like on a map.

“That would be very unlikely,” Caprica said. “We did receive confirmation of a sighting to the north of the Golden Peak. The path the ship should have taken would have brought it farther north, then around through a well-marked passage between the northwestern mountains of Sylphfree. But the ship never arrived at the passage, so we now believe it likely disappeared in the territory of the Trenten Flats.”

“So you want us to grab the Beaver Cleaver, head out there, and find the ship and all its passengers?” I asked.

Caprica hesitated, then nodded. “Partially correct. Though there are several details we’d need to work out beforehand, and I’m not certain if your vessel would be suitable for the quest at hand.”

I crossed my arms. “The Beaver’s an excellent ship,” I defended.

“I’m certain that it’s a fine vessel. However, this quest would require a certain amount of … discretion, which wouldn’t be easy to obtain if you were to just fly in with an airship and start searching for a potential crash site.”

“Ah,” Awen started. “Um, why aren’t the sylphs looking? Why send us? If it isn’t the Beaver that’s making us, um, uniquely qualified, then what is it?”

Caprica hummed. “Mostly the issue comes down to politics. The United Republic of the Trenten Flats and the Kingdom of Sylphfree aren’t allies. We’re not enemies either, but things are tense right now. Having Sylphfreean ships roaming above the Flats would violate their territorial skies.”

“Couldn’t you explain the situation to them?” I asked. “A whole ship went missing, full of innocent people.”

“And politicians,” Awen added.

I nodded before continuing. “Even if the sylphs can’t get involved, the seriousness of the situation should warrant a search by the cervids, right?”

“You’d think so, but the Trenten Flats have fewer ships than we do, and they’re older—they were outdated when they were first launched. Asking them to do the work would raise tensions. Besides, we can’t rule out the possibility that the Trenten Flats are the reason the vessel went missing in the first place.”

Amaryllis sat up straighter. “You think the Trenten … what, shot down the harpy delegation?”

“The delegation was escorted,” Caprica said. “It’s not the case of one ship going down, but several. One vessel having an unfortunate accident and getting lost is plausible. A small fleet is less so. Had the fleet turned around to return to the Harpy Mountains, we would have heard about it by now.”

“So, you need someone real discreet and sneaky to look around the Trenten Flats and find the missing delegation fleet. And, naturally, you thought of me and my friends,” I said carefully. I was pretty sure Caprica knew that I didn’t do sneaky very well.

Amaryllis snorted. “Princess, we’re the most conspicuous people that have ever set foot on Dirt.”

Caprica chuckled. “To be entirely fair, I wasn’t expecting you to go unnoticed. What I am expecting is that the Trenten Flats won’t know what to do with you. Legally, there is no reason you can’t go sniffing around on your own initiative. Politically, it would be hard to blame any nation for your actions. Amaryllis, you have a reason to be looking for the delegation, even if you’re not employed by the Nesting Kingdom. Awen, Broccoli, you’re both strangers to these parts.”

Amaryllis nodded along. She popped another pastry in her mouth, then chewed and swallowed. “I see what you’re thinking. I can merely claim that the delegation is needed back to do its job. Broccoli and Awen can be acting as assistants and companions in my … let’s call it a personal quest to discover what happened to the delegates I had to replace.”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping for, yes,” Caprica said.

“I’m in,” I said.

“We’ve barely heard all the details, Broccoli,” Amaryllis said. “Besides, we need to discuss compensation.”

There was a knock at the door to the lounge, and one of the guards reached over and opened it. A second later, both of them somehow went even more stiff than they had already been.

The reason why stepped into the room, followed by a pair of paladins who scanned the space as if any one of us might be a threat. “Hi, Reggie,” I said to the king.

The king grinned and made his way to the couch Caprica was on. She slid to the side, making room for him next to her as he sat down across from us. “This is a less formal gathering than I’m used to,” he noted.

I wasn’t too sure about that. There were nearly as many guards in the room as there were non-guards.

“Formality isn’t our strong suit,” Amaryllis admitted.

“That’s fine,” the king replied. “I imagine that if Caprica is here, she has already highlighted the request I had?”

“You want us to sneak over to the Trenten Flats and find the delegation,” I said. “Or … maybe not sneak over, but at least get there without people knowing that Sylphfree is involved?”

He nodded. “I would have embellished the mission a little more, but essentially, yes. The location of the delegation needs to be sussed out. The sooner the better. The Nesting Kingdom could level accusations against us any day now about their missing diplomats. I’m certain that news of their disappearance has already reached some ears on the Harpy Mountains.”

“No doubt,” Amaryllis said. “Are you doing anything to cover it up?”

“No,” he said. “Innocence in matters like these can be difficult to prove, but I’ve found that covering up details and masking the truth only tends to make the truth stand out all the more. There are people with skills and classes who are exceptionally talented at discovering and connecting disparate facts together to draw an accurate conclusion.”

That sounded really neat. Magic-empowered detectives!

“Wait!” I said. “Why haven’t you used them to find the delegates?”

The king grinned. “Clever. But we thought of that already. Our own analysts haven’t been able to discover any more of the delegation’s trail. We have a few ideas, some theories—it is partially thanks to such analysts that we are confident the delegation vanished outside our territory—but nothing solid. We’ve also tried to scry for their location. The army, as you can imagine, has ample reason to keep a number of capable scryers around. So far though, we’ve found nothing conclusive.”

Awen raised a hand like a schoolgirl asking a question. The king nodded to her, and she asked, “Um, what are the limitations of the scrying?”

“I would have a number of generals quite angry with me if I divulged that. Suffice to say, though, that there are issues of range. We cannot, for example, scry from here to the Harpy Mountains. The distance is too great. Nor can we pinpoint a person’s location with great precision. There are spells that will point you toward a person, but they usually have two to three degrees of inaccuracy. Even triangulating from a few stations will point to a large possible range of locations a person could be in.”

“Um,” Awen said, “wouldn’t that mean that, based on the range, you’d know where the delegation … isn’t?”

The king tilted his head to the side. “Yes, we used that to mark out areas where the delegation ships aren’t located. That will narrow down the area you’d need to search.”

“Before we agree to all of this,” Amaryllis started, “is this mission something you want us to organize on our own?”

“I was going to suggest that you team up with a few choice sylphs. I believe there is a paladin ready to escort you to the Trenten Flats, though I’m afraid the search, once there, will be up to you.”

I rubbed at my chin. “We’re going to need to bring the Beaver Cleaver closer,” I said. “Not to do the actual search, but if we discover that the delegation left to go somewhere else and we need to chase it down, we need a fast, reliable ship that can do that.” The Beaver wasn’t the fastest ship, but it was very reliable!

“That can be arranged. I’ll have someone bring the ship to the capital. If you could write a letter addressing your crew, that would be helpful,” the king said.

I nodded along. That made perfect sense.

“And now on to the more interesting topic,” Amaryllis said. “Remuneration.”

The king chuckled. “How very mercenary. Yes, I wouldn’t imagine giving anyone a quest like this without paying them back for their last one. Speaking of which …” He gestured to one of the paladins. The sylph reached under his armored cuirass and pulled out a lacquered wooden box, which he handed to the king. How did that box fit under his armor? I had no idea, unless the paladin was very, very thin under there. The box seemed heavy, especially as the king placed it on the coffee table with a thunk.

He undid a latch on the front of the box, opened it, then turned it around for us to see.

“Three hundred sylph ducats, as promised for a job well done,” he said. “There will be more if this next mission is a success, of course.”

The box had three rows of coins, all neatly placed in grooves obviously meant to hold them in place. I reached out and plucked one. It was heavy, which I expected of gold, and about the size of the circle I could make by touching my index finger to the tip of my thumb.

I held the coin up before me, face-side lined up next to the king’s face. “Were these stamped a while ago?” I asked

One of his eyebrows rose. “Some years ago, yes. Have I aged poorly?”

I giggled and shook my head. “No, no. But you had more hair once.”

“Broccoli!” Caprica gasped.

The king laughed. “Yes! I did! My wife reminds me frequently. Mostly I blame my overabundance of daughters.”

“Father!”

“Broccoli, stop insulting the guy who can chop our heads off on a whim,” Amaryllis said.

“Oh, oops. Sorry!” I said before placing the coin back into its box.

The king waved the apology away. “It’s nothing. I do own a mirror or two and can see the truth for myself. Now, this is the promised reward for the last task you completed for us. A handsome reward, I’m certain.”

I glanced at Amaryllis. I had no idea if this much gold was a lot or not. I figured it was, but my frame of reference wasn’t ideal. Since arriving on Dirt I hadn’t made much gold, but I didn’t really need it either.

Amaryllis caught on to what I was wondering with just a look. “Yes, Broccoli, it’s a lot. The sylph ducat is perhaps the most valuable coin on Dirt, or at least the parts I’m aware of. It’s pure gold, not mixed with anything else. Three hundred gold is enough to purchase a small house in most cities.”

“Oh, that’s nice then,” I said. “We can spend it on the Beaver! Make the ship even cooler, right Awen?”

“Ah? Yes, I can think of a few modifications that would cost about that much,” Awen said. “A new engine wouldn’t be cheap. But we don’t really need much. The Beaver Cleaver is still very new.”

The king cleared his throat. “I’ll let you ladies discuss things further. You’re invited to stay the night, if you wish. I wouldn’t want you to start this mission without a good night’s rest. Let Caprica know what you think.”

And with that, the king was off, leaving us to make our choice.

• Chapter Three •

Early to Bed and Early to Rise

We spent the rest of that day walking across Goldenalden, eating at the inn, and generally wasting time and having fun. The weather was nice and chilly, and we even got a flurry of snow that quickly melted away.

When noon hit, all of us started to feel really tired, and I think we were reminded that we hadn’t slept at all the previous night.

We did end up spending the night at the palace, though only after returning to the inn where our stuff was. I might have been able to clean all of our clothes really well, but my friends still insisted on changing their underthings and grabbing their stuff.

We went to bed early in one of the guest wings of the palace.

I slept like a rock, blacking out for who knows how long, until a knock at the door woke me up.

“Miss, I was told by Lady Amaryllis to awaken your group at this hour,” an unfamiliar voice said from the other side of the door.

I yawned. “Thank you!” I called back.

Then, because I could, I stretched my arms and legs out until every bit of me was shivering with tension, then melted back into the floofy mattress. The sylphs really knew how to make a good bed.

After lazing about for a bit until the sun’s light reached the edge of the mattress, I rolled over and off the bed. Then I found my things where I’d dropped them on a clothing-chair (the chair that belonged in every bedroom, where clean clothes were piled) and got dressed for the day. I found Awen in the corridor, walking the slow shuffle of someone who wasn’t entirely awake yet. “Good morning!” I cheered before giving her a morning hug.

“Awa?” Awen mumbled weakly. She stuffed her face against the crook of my neck. “Hmm. Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” I asked as I backed off.

She nodded. “I guess so. The bed was nice.”

“I know! We should get a few of them for the Beaver. Do you think Caprica would help us grab a few?”

“You … want to steal beds from the royal palace to put on our airship?” Awen asked.

“Of course not. The beds here are nearly as big as our cabins. We’d need much smaller ones. Besides, stealing is wrong.”

Awen nodded along, then stifled a yawn. “Did you see where Amaryllis went?”

I shook my head. “Just came out of my room, sorry. Let’s wander around until we find her.”

That turned out to be a very inefficient way of finding our harpy friend, though we did end up meandering into that big dining room where we’d spoken to the king the other day. Caprica, her little sister Gabrielle, her older sister Stephania, and the queen were all at the table having breakfast.

“Good morning! Have you seen Amaryllis anywhere?” I said.

Caprica looked up from her meal. It seemed like some sort of porridge with lots of sweet sauce and jam on it. “No, I haven’t,” she said. “But you can wait here and eat breakfast. There should be enough for a few more. Unless anyone minds?” She glanced at her family.

“Of course we don’t,” Gabrielle said. She grinned and gestured to the seat across from hers. “Come, sit! There’s enough for everyone.”

I noticed that they all sat a bit apart from one another, and that all four of them also had books and papers out on the table. Stephania was looking over a newspaper and the queen was reviewing some reports. Gabrielle was the only one not working while eating.

“I’m sure Amaryllis will show up eventually,” Caprica said. She frowned at the breakfast laid out before her. “Should we hide the eggs?”

“Ah,” I said. “I guess? I don’t know if Amaryllis is all that easy to offend … Well, actually, yes, she is easy to offend, and she did say that eating eggs is quite taboo among the harpies, but I don’t think she’d make a fuss over it.”

“Aren’t there eggs in all of our pastries?” Gabrielle asked. “I haven’t spent a lot of time in the kitchens, but I think they use eggs there for baking.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I don’t think she’s allergic to them?”

I sat down across from Gabrielle and Awen took a seat next to me. She kept glancing at the queen, but the older sylph woman was focused on her paperwork and her jam-covered toast.

Caprica gestured to one of the butlers hiding in a nook next to a pillar, and he swept in and plucked the eggs away with one hand while laying out fresh plates for Awen and I, with little folded napkins and shiny silverware.

Butlers were so cool!

“Please, serve yourselves,” Caprica said.

“Thank you!” I said before I did just that. Sylph breakfasts were heavy on the bread, pastries, and jams, with a few meats here and there that I avoided. They smelled nice, but I didn’t need a tummy ache so early in the day.

“I heard that you went on a big adventure at the Dungeon of the Lullaby Knight,” Gabrielle said. “Was it scary?”

I nodded. “Oh yes, very. Some of the floors were easy, but there’s this one floor where you have to cross a room that’s filled with all of your worst nightmares. It was awful!”

Gabrielle gasped, hands over her mouth, but for all that, she still looked interested. “But you braved past those, right?”

“Yeah!” I said. “Me and my friends are real brave.”

“And humble,” Stephania mumbled.

“We’ll be putting that bravery to the test later,” Caprica said. “We found a way to carry you to the location of that quest Father gave you.”

“Caprica,” the queen said, without looking up from her papers. “Is it wise to discuss secretive matters over breakfast?”

“Usually, no, but Broccoli can’t keep a secret. All a spy would have to do is ask and she’d spill it all. Besides, we’re in the heart of the palace. If we can’t speak here, then nowhere is safe.”

My cheeks, already filled with a mouthful of toast, puffed out even more. I could totally keep a secret! I … just didn’t have any secrets to keep, was all.

“How are we going to get to the Trenten Flats?” Awen asked carefully, still glancing at the queen.

Caprica grinned. “I recall you mentioning that Paladin Bastion”—she ignored Stephania’s snort and Gabrielle’s sigh—“promised to let you ride some wyverns. We have some knights who would be more than willing to fly over the Trenten Flats to escort you and your companions to a predetermined location.”

“Oh, that sounds fun,” I said. “Is riding a wyvern anything like riding a dragon?”

“You’d have to ask someone who rode a dragon to learn the difference,” Caprica said with a grin. Then her eyes narrowed. “You … don’t know anyone who has ridden a dragon, do you?”

I had kind of forgotten that the sylphs really didn’t like dragons. That dislike wasn’t mutual, though. From what I gathered, dragons loved the sylphs. As in-flight snacks.

“Of–Of course not?” I stammered while cringing away from Caprica’s curious look.

“You were right,” the queen said. “She can’t keep a secret.”

“She really can’t,” Amaryllis agreed as she entered the room. She crossed the space, paused to bow to the queen—wait, were Awen and I supposed to do that too?—then continued on and pulled out a seat next to Awen. “What is Broccoli failing to keep secret now?”

“Amaryllis! You could have distracted them by changing the topic, at least,” I said.

“I didn’t feel like it,” she said. The butler swept by and placed another plate before her, and she started loading it up with food.

“I was just telling Awen and Broccoli about our plan to get you to the Trenten Flats quickly. It involves taking a flight of wyverns over the Flats,” Caprica said.

“Not exactly inconspicuous,” Amaryllis said.

“More so than you’d imagine,” Caprica said. “Wyverns are native to the Sylphfree mountains, but the wild ones range over the Flats in search of prey. Seeing a group of them isn’t common, but it isn’t unheard of. From the ground, it’s difficult to tell that a wyvern has a rider at all.”

Amaryllis considered it, then nodded. “That’s one way to make it there. How do we return? On foot? Can we charter a ship back from one of the towns in the Trenten Flats?”

“We can give you a magical device to signal us,” Caprica said.

“You have long-range magical signaling devices?” I asked. If that was the case, why didn’t they have telephones and the like?

“I was thinking of giving you a special banking ring,” Caprica said.

Oh! Like the one Amaryllis had that connected to the bank in the Harpy Mountains. That was less a communication device and more one that let people teleport things back and forth. I’d considered getting one for myself, but we kept traveling far from any central banks—too far for their limited range.

“That could work,” Amaryllis said. “Do you have any more details for us, other than ‘go to the Trenten Flats and find the diplomats’? That’s a little too vast of a region for just three people to cover.”

“Three very talented people,” Caprica said. “But yes, we have a few potential leads you can follow up on. I’d suggest that you travel to Fort Middlesfaire. It’s one of the many fortress-cities the cervids built as they pushed north. One of the first ones, actually. From what I’ve read, it’s a prosperous enough little city now, centering around the fort. There are dozens of smaller towns around it that provide the food and supplies needed for the city to function.”

“You think we’ll learn about the delegation there?” I asked.

Caprica nodded. “If you ask around, most likely. Fort Middlesfaire is a central hub for the region, and an important stop for the trade caravans circling around the Harpy Mountains. Keep in mind that most commodities in the Trenten Flats are transported over land. Traders have long convoys that require frequent stops, so they enjoy having forts less than a day’s travel apart. Bandits are an issue as well.”

Bandits? That sounded awful. And a little exciting.

“Don’t worry! I’m sure we’ll make lots of new friends that can help us figure out what happened to the diplomats,” I said.

“Your conviction is appreciated,” Caprica said. “The wyverns should be ready to take off within a few hours. I know it’s on short notice, but I think haste might be more important here than caution.”

“That’s okay, we’re always ready for adventure, right girls?” I asked.

Awen was finally looking awake, and Amaryllis just made a vague so-so gesture in the air.

I pouted. So much for that. “Well, I’m always ready, in any case. Just let me get Weedbane and … do you think we’ll have time to prepare a lunchbox or two?”

“Of course,” Caprica said. “I’ll have the cooks prepare a meal that you can carry with you. We’ll have some packs with ready-to-eat-meals as well. They’re … frankly, barely edible, but they keep for a long time and do provide all of the necessary nutrition. Perhaps you can even just bring a normal soldier’s kit with you. It will have everything you need.”

“And it will paint them as coming from Sylphfree,” Stephania pointed out idly.

“Ah, that is true,” Caprica said. “I’m not well versed in this kind of subterfuge.”

Stephania nodded. “Even Gabrielle is subtler than you.”

Gabrielle giggled. “No one expects the Gabquisition!” she said before her giggles cut off with a cough. She still laughed though, even as Caprica patted her back.

“Right, once you’re done with breakfast, you can head out to the wyvern tower. That’s where you’ll find the wyvern knights and Paladin Bastion, who is no doubt dutifully waiting for you.”

“I can’t wait,” I said.

Awen and Amaryllis both perked up a little. I think they were almost as excited to fly on wyvernback as I was!

• Chapter Four •

Introductions Are in Order

The carriage rattled and shook as we rode up toward the edge of the city. We weren’t going to any of the sections that hung off the side of the mountain, or even one of the many ports surrounding Goldenalden. No, we were heading up, toward the higher parts of the city where it more or less disappeared into the mountain.

Even after just twenty minutes of riding along steep switchback roads, I could tell that the air had grown a little bit thinner. It was certainly colder. Awen was stuck between Amaryllis and me with a heap of blankets on top of herself, and she was still shivering a little.

I shifted around and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “There, that’ll warm you up a little,” I said.

“Thank you,” Awen said.

“You know, it’s only going to get colder once we’re in the air,” Amaryllis noted. “And the air will only grow thinner.”

“I’m used to it on board a ship,” Awen said. “But being on the ground is different somehow. Also, I don’t think we usually flew all that high with the Beaver.”

I grinned. “I’m kind of excited about this. Last time, when we flew with Rhawrexdee, I could barely tell what was happening. I spent the entire flight focusing on not falling off his back.”

Amaryllis gave me a look. “You’re so reckless,” she said.

“I’m sure the sylphs have a bunch of safety precautions. They seem like very safety-minded people,” I said.

“Yes, probably because they had a few people like you in their ranks before they slipped out of the gene pool,” Amaryllis said.

I harrumphed at her. “You know, what you’re doing now isn’t legal here.”

“What?” Amaryllis asked, her grin shifting away in place of confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Being so smug isn’t allowed here.”

“I doubt they made a law about it,” Amaryllis said, rather smugly at that.

“It’s called smuggling, and it’s not allowed.”

Amaryllis stared at me, then she looked to Awen. “Can we switch seats? I need to smack Broccoli around a bit.”

We tussled for a minute, filling the carriage with laughter and Awen’s squeaky giggles. Eventually though, the carriage rolled to a stop and we all paused to look out and see what was going on. We were at a gatehouse next to the roadway. It was manned by a single young sylph dressed in an ill-fitting guard’s outfit. He spoke to the carriage driver, and we were quickly let through.

Our carriage circled around a driveway, then stopped in front of a tower that stuck out from the mountainside. This had to be built with magic. There was careful stonework on the outside, but the rearmost wall seemed to almost melt into the mountain itself. It reminded me of the old palace where the summit had taken place.

“I suppose this is it,” Amaryllis said. She pushed the door open, peeked outside, then jumped out. Awen shed her blankets and did the same, with me following right behind her.

“I guess we go to the tower,” I said with a gesture to the building in question. There were a few other places nearby, some newer-looking barracks and a warehouse with a tin roof, but there didn’t seem to be too much going on up here.

“I’ll be heading back down, as ordered,” the carriage driver said. “Do you need any help with your belongings?”

I shook my head, jumped up onto the back of the carriage, and then tossed our stuff down to Awen and Amaryllis, who caught all of our gear. We didn’t have all that much. A few tools, some weapons, and the packs that Caprica had found for us with survival meals and tents and such.

After saying goodbye to the carriage driver, we started toward the tower only for the front doors to glide open, letting a few sylphs spill out. One of them was immediately recognizable.

“Bastion!” I cheered.

The paladin smiled. “Hello, Broccoli. Awen, Amaryllis,” he greeted with a nod to my friends. He planted his feet in place so that my hug wouldn’t bowl him over, patting my back while chuckling. “It hasn’t been that long. I don’t know if I deserve such treatment.”

“Of course you do,” I said as I backed out of the hug. “You’re a friend, and I haven’t seen you in over three hours; that’s enough reason for a proper hugging. It’s been days. So much has happened!”

Bastion conceded the point with a nod. “I suppose we have all been rather busy,” he said. He half turned to gesture to the two sylphs who had come out with him. “Let me introduce my companions here. This is Menos Salvonote and Winnow Underwing.”

Menos was a very young sylph knight with a breastplate that looked a tiny bit too big for his chest. He was also wearing a leather uniform, with fur ruffs at the neck and sleeves and I think also around the holes for his wings. He nodded, which made the leather-and-plate cap on his head (with big goggles) bounce a bit. “Pleasure,” he said.

“Hello,” Winnow replied. She was older and just a pinch shorter than Bastion, with a serious set to her brow but bright eyes that seemed curious and happy. She had on the same sort of uniform as Menos, though she lacked the breastplate and cap.

“These are Ladies Awen Bristlecone and Amaryllis Albatross, and this is Captain Broccoli Bunch,” Bastion introduced us. Amaryllis nodded curtly and Awen gave them a little wave. “Captain Willow and Knight Menos here will be accompanying me in escorting you to the Trenten Flats.”

“Oh?” I asked. “You’re both … What do we call people who fly on wyverns here?”

“Wyvern knights,” Menos said. It was clear he was pretty proud of his job. “The few and the brave. The kings of the open skies.”

Winnow chuckled. “We’re hardly the kings of the sky. We are knights, though, which ought to suggest a certain pattern of behavior.” The last was very pointedly aimed right at Menos, who straightened.

I nodded along. “That sounds really cool. Will we be flying together? Two to a wyvern?”

“That was the plan, yes,” Bastion said. “It’s safer that way. Having someone inexperienced leading a wyvern, especially so far from the usual training airspace, would be unwise.”

“So, you’ll be adventuring with us again,” Amaryllis said to Bastion.

The paladin nodded. “One more time, at least,” he said. “Though this time we are merely bringing you to your destination. It isn’t much of an adventure at all.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” I said. “There are always plenty of things that can go wrong: monsters showing up, bad guys to fight …”

Amaryllis whapped me behind the head with her feathers. “Don’t go begging for trouble, Broccoli. The World is liable to give you more than you can handle.”

I pouted at her, but she was probably right.

“Do you want to meet the wyverns?” Winnow asked. And just like that, she had all of my attention.

We walked into the tower, which turned out to look more like an office building on the inside, with the first couple of floors obviously dedicated to all the paperwork and bureaucracy needed to take care of a group of wyvern knights.

“This is the Goldenalden wyvern tower,” Winnow said. “We have one of these towers next to most of the important cities, and there are a few more dotted here and there across the mountains, some in secret locations, others out in the open.”

“How many wyverns are here?” I asked.

“You mean those bred in captivity? Fewer than a thousand across the nation. Half of those aren’t ever going to be used for any sort of fighting. We do have courier positions and other jobs for those wyverns who don’t pass the training to do aerial combat,” Winnow explained.

“What about in the wild?” Awen asked.

“Far fewer,” Winnow said. “Unfortunately, wyverns are a threat to a lone sylph, and they can even cause damage to small airships. They’ll avoid cities unless something has disturbed them, but they’re still a threat. The only wild flights are far to the north and east, where settlements are sparse and there’s no real air traffic.”

That was a little sad, but probably understandable. We continued to climb up the stairs while Winnow told us more about the wyverns. They were apparently gluttonous eaters if you let them be. They were also lizards, so they were cold-blooded and really enjoyed a bit of warmth. Fire was one of the rewards they gave to a well-behaved wyvern, so we didn’t need to panic if we saw a knight spraying one with some magical fire.

We reached the top floor of the tower. One half of the room was a ramp leading up onto the flat roof, where I imagined wyverns could take off. The base of the tower was dug into the mountain and was filled with big pens with metal bars between them.

Wyverns were sleeping inside those, and I started to feel nervous about our flight for the first time. They were so big! Each wyvern had a pen big enough that we could have parked the Beaver inside it. Well, if we were willing to squish it in a little.

A wyvern raised its head up from the bed of straw it was resting on and watched us walk past. Its head was taller than I was, even with my ears. It could have chomped me in half if it wanted to, I think.

“We’ll be taking Bloodfang, Greencrest, and Little Doug today,” Winnow said.

I blinked. “Those are the names of the wyverns?” I asked.

She nodded. “They are. They should be saddled up for us already, but we’ll go and meet them first. It’s good form to let them get used to you before a flight. Especially since none of you are sylph. You’ll look and smell different from what they’re used to.”

We stopped by Little Doug’s pen first. Menos stepped up, opened the slim door to the cage, and walked in without hesitation.

Little Doug had a chest bigger around than the carriage we’d used to get to the tower and was as long as the Beaver Cleaver was wide. “Hey there, little guy,” Menos said as he patted the wyvern’s snout.

“Why is he called Little Doug?” I asked.

“Oh, he was the runt,” Winnow said. “Almost failed every test. By all rights he shouldn’t have been trained any further, but we discovered that he’s one of the most docile wyverns we’ve ever raised. Not optimal for an aerial combatant, but he doesn’t mind new riders flying on him. So he’s the training mount for a lot of newer knights, and when we need to escort VIPs around, Little Doug’s our go-to.”

“Oh,” I said. So he was just a friendly little guy. I liked him already!

“He seems nice,” Awen said.

“Good, then you can ride on him with Knight Menos. Go on in, he’ll show you how to greet Doug, and then we’ll have some of the stable hands load your gear up,” Winnow said.

A wide-eyed Awen was ushered into the wyvern’s cage. She stood back for a bit, but Awen was quite brave when she wanted to be (and when the situation wasn’t a social one), so she walked over to the wyvern and gave it her hand to sniff as if it were a big dog.

“A wyvern’s sense of smell isn’t great,” Winnow said, “but their eyesight is second to none. Their hearing is awful, though it’s just good enough that they can hear orders.”

“How long have you been working with them?” I asked as we continued on.

“Oh, nearly a decade now. Which is a long time for a wyvern knight. It’s very much a young person’s career.”

“How long do wyverns … work for?” I asked.

“Three, maybe four decades,” Winnow said. “Depending on injuries and how gracefully they age. We train them to be comfortable with multiple knights, but they do have favorites. Come, this is Greencrest; Paladin Bastion will be flying her.”

“Broccoli,” Bastion said, his tone very serious. “You cannot keep the wyverns as pets.”

I blinked. Why would he even say that?

• Chapter Five •

Flight of the Wyverns

You’re a good little almost-dragon, aren’t you? Yes you are! Yes you are!” I cooed to Miss Greencrest the wyvern. The big beastie’s emotions were hard to read. It didn’t have as expressive a face as most mammals, or even the few dragons I’d met, but I think Miss Greencrest was still quite happy with the way I scritched her under the chin, if the way she pressed down on my hand was any indication.

“She seems to like you,” Winnow said. “That’s good. You can ride her along with Paladin Bastion.”

“Oh? I don’t mind which wyvern I fly with. They all seem very sweet and friendly. Isn’t that right, Miss Greencrest? Do you want to be my friend?”

Greencrest

Desired Quality: Someone who will give her meat

Dream: To fly and hunt

I chuckled, then glanced around. There was a metal bucket in the central corridor with the words Bones and Gristle painted on the side. I’d bet those were snacks. “Can I give her a treat?” I asked.

“Certainly,” Winnow said. “But she’ll have to be saddled in a moment, so do so quickly. And take care not to have your hand bitten off.”

“Okay!” I said.

Winnow led Amaryllis deeper in, toward the cage of the third wyvern we’d be flying. Bloodfang was a big boy of a wyvern with reddish scales. He bumped his head against the cage as Winnow approached, looking pretty excited to see the knight.

I got a honking big chunk of meat for Greencrest, who gobbled it up greedily while the other wyverns in the cages around us looked on with jealousy. (I did want to give them all snacks, but I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to do that. Maybe they were on a specific diet?) Then I had to leave her cage as a group of pages and squires came around with harnesses and nets and big leather pieces that they started to strap over Greencrest.

The other two wyverns were being prepared too. I noted that the barding had chainmail between layers of padding and leather. It covered a lot of the wyvern’s sternum and ribs, and they also had a sort of metal helmet that fit around their heads, giving them a fearsome appearance.

The saddle was at the front, just above the wyvern’s wing joints. There was a lot of flexible material there, probably so the wyvern could move their wings unimpeded. The seats looked like they were padded, but I suspected it wasn’t going to be super comfy.

The door to Little Doug’s cage was opened and Menos led him out. Awen clutched on to the saddle while the wyvern moved with careful grace. A few more squires approached with some last bits of equipment that were probably too tricky to fit while the wyvern was still in its enclosure.

Greencrest was led out next. I moved back so that I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way and watched as the wyvern slithered—well, as much as a reptile as long as a bus could slither—out of her cage and allowed the sylph working with the wyvern knights to equip her properly. Allowed, because I had no doubt that things would be quite different if she didn’t want to be fussed over.

The wyverns all had thick, corded muscles just beneath their scaly-cool skin, especially along their backs and flanks. I walked over to Greencrest’s front with another snack, then patted her on the snoot while she munched through what I suspected was a goat’s femur bone.

“Will you need a hand climbing aboard?” Bastion asked.

He had changed while I wasn’t paying attention. He still wore his shiny paladin breastplate, as well as the greaves and vambraces, but he had removed most of the rest of his armor. The sylphs around him were acting a bit more carefully now that he was there. A paladin was a big deal in Sylphfree.

“I think I can manage,” I said. “But we should probably wait until we’re outside?”

He nodded. “Indeed,” he said before reaching up to Greencrest’s head and giving it a rub. We both had to move back as a squire stepped up apologetically and started to strap a helmet on the wyvern’s head. There was lots of padding, and it looked custom-made, so it was probably fairly comfortable.

Another sylph passed by and handed Bastion a set of reins that led up to the bridle around the wyvern’s head. Once Greencrest was fully equipped, we started walking toward the exit, only I was stopped a few steps away.

“Ma’am,” a young sylph in armor similar to Menos’s and Winnow’s said.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Ah, we have some equipment for you and your companions,” she said. “It was interesting, finding things in your … approximate size range.”

“Will I need to change?” I asked with a tap to my breastplate.

She shook her head. “No, no, the harnesses are meant to go over a knight’s armor, so you’ll be fine. The overcoat will give you another layer for the journey. Trust me, you’ll appreciate it—unless you happen to have self-heating magic.”

“I don’t think I have any magic like that,” I admitted.

The nice knight brought me aside to a small room with all sorts of other equipment, then helped me into a harness made of tough leather straps. It ran around my chest and over my arms and between my legs, with parts strapped to my thighs and upper arms. There were lots of buckles that clinked and jingled, and I had to squish up my skirts to be able to fit into the bottom part of the harness.

I probably looked silly, but then the knight gave me a big coat made of some very long fur. It had slits for my arms and more slits so that I could access the harness buckles through the furry material.

“Oh, this is cozy,” I said as I hugged myself. I was now the softest bun ever.

“You’ll need it. It gets cold midflight, especially with any metal armor on,” the knight said. “Here, the caps aren’t fashionable, but they’ll keep your hair out of your face, and the goggles will let you actually see.”

She handed me a leather cap with thick cloth pads around the outside of it. The inside was filled with more of the same fur, and the front of the cap had a half-mask that could be buttoned up on one side to cover everything from my nose down. It even had goggles with thick glass. It was a good thing I didn’t wear glasses or else that bit would have been tricky.

I did encounter one big problem, though. Or rather, two of them. “What do I do with my ears?” I asked.