Fyre Fly: Chapter 33 – Shopping Spree

By the time we reach the next city, people have started coming to us. Airships move much more quickly than our city does, and word is clearly spreading. I’m not sure if we really have anything of value to offer in trade, but I think people are more excited to visit a castle in the clouds than anything. I hadn’t expected “tourism” to become our main industry.

They also soon discover we have a talking dragon, and Ollie quickly becomes a source of fascination. Ollie, of course, basks in the attention, and is more than happy to accept (and even request) gifts to add to his growing collection. I’m going to need to keep an eye on the effect it might have on his ego. The last thing we need is a spoiled eight-year-old the size of a house.

Thank goodness he’s out of his tantrum years.

“COME ON, FYRE!” Ollie encourages me. “DON’T BE SCARED!”

A much tinier voice from his translator echoes, “Come on Fyre, don’t be scared!”

“You don’t have to mentally talk to me when I’m right here,” I remind him.

“OH YEAH,” he says, still replying mentally. “I FORGOT.”

Sora did in fact create a leather band for Ollie to wear, which keeps the translation stone pressed against his neck. This also helps make the voice sound more like it’s coming from his head than his hand. The jewel looks absurdly tiny on him, but he parades it around with pride, happy to point it out to anyone new he meets. Dizzi examined the stone, but was hesitant to alter any of the spells in an attempt to increase the volume lest she break something. Now that we’re at a city again, the plan is to find another language artificer who might be able to help.

“And I’m not scared,” I tell him. “Just nervous.”

Ollie giggles. “THAT’S THE SAME THING.”

“Don’t worry,” Mirzayael assures me, picking up on our conversation. “I’ll stay in the throne room the entire time you’re away.”

I wish that was at all reassuring. But Mirzayael has insisted that I can’t stay cloistered up in the palace forever, and she’s right about that. We can’t have everything hanging onto what the gods may or may not do.

“Fyre!” Dizzi flutters over to us as Ollie and I continue to wait for the cargo shuttles to finish being loaded. “I’m glad you’ll be joining us today. I can’t wait to explore this city. There’s been so many things I wish I could have shown you in the last couple!”

“You make it sound like it’s a shopping trip rather than a business excursion,” I lightly tease.

She shrugs. “Same thing, right?”

She’s starting to sound like Ollie.

“I’m a bit concerned about taking Ollie into the city,” I admit. “He must take up their entire streets.”

Dizzi waves off the concern. “Don’t worry, I’ve already talked to them about accommodations. We’ll be meeting outside the city this time. The last two cities had giant squares that Ollie could sit in without much trouble. And he only destroyed one cart!”

“He what?” I ask, alarmed.

Ollie ducks his head. “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.”

“And we paid them back, so don’t worry about it!” Dizzi quickly says. “But actually, I do have something I’ve been trying that might make it easier for Ollie to maneuver the city while we’re in the ground. Want to see?”

I have no idea what she could mean by this, but I am curious. “Show me.”

She leads me over to one of the cargo shuttles, where helpers are finishing loading the last crate of supplies. It’s filled with blankets, ore, spell scrolls, crops, soil additives, and of course, a few chests of manufactured coins. (Yes, I still feel bad about that. Once we have enough sustainable trade, I fully intend to stop producing currency.)

“Check this out,” Dizzi says. She pulls a paper out of her pocket and unfolds it, revealing a complex spell circle. I can read some of the runes related to size and material, but it isn’t until I have Echo Check it that I realize what it’s for.

Dizzi sets it on top of the last crate that’s loaded, and taps the circle, which illuminates beneath her finger. At first, nothing appears to have happened. But after a few seconds, the space between the crate and its nearby cargo appears to have become bigger—because the crate itself has become smaller. It continues to shrink, very slowly, but it’s shrinking nevertheless.

“It’ll take about five minutes for it to complete,” Dizzi says. “And then it will be about the size of a blueseed fruit. Can you imagine how much more we could pack on these shuttles if I made a circle for everything here?!”

The spell circle itself is still glowing, I note: so it can’t be used simultaneously for multiple pieces of cargo. We’ll need to replicate the spell dozens—or hundreds—of times. But it does pose exciting potential for our deliveries going forward.

“How long will it last?” I ask.

“A couple hours,” she says.

“Amazing.” I crouch down next to the cargo, watching the crate dwindle at the pace of a snail. “I’m surprised everyone doesn’t use such methods for cargo delivery.”

“Well, I’m still working out some kinks,” Dizzi admits. “It’s smaller, but it’s not lighter, for instance. Which is okay for us, since we’ve got the cloudstone to carry it around on, but it wouldn’t help if you wanted to put it in a bag—the fabric would probably tear before you’d be able to lift it. Also, I haven’t figured out how to make them become big again. I just have to wait for the spell to expire.”

I give her a look. “So they’re going to be like this when we need to trade them?”

“Uhhh.” Dizzi smiles guiltily. “I said I was working out some kinks! We can just trade the other stuff first. It should be back to normal by lunch!”

“It’s an interesting spell,” I tell her. “But I think it would be best to hold off on trying something like that on Ollie until you’ve worked out all the kinks.”

“You’re no fun at all.” But she gives me a wink and a smile before heading back to finish overseeing the last steps of securing the cargo.

“DO YOU WANT TO RIDE ON MY BACK, TODAY?” Ollie asks me as we prepare to launch.

“Meritis won’t be accompanying you?” I ask.

Ollie shakes his head, which doesn’t entirely work for a dragon with a long, snake-like neck, but I get the idea. “HE’S HELPING HIS PARENTS WITH SOMETHING. PLUS, HE LIKES TO FLY ALONGSIDE ME ANYWAY.”

“Then I’d be happy to,” I say.

Ollie gives a pleased rumble.

I climb up his neck, wary of using my Jets lest they accidentally burn him, and carefully strap my legs and waist into the seat. I also could fly alongside him, of course, but Ollie seems to enjoy taking others for rides—and then terrifying them with loop-de-loops and barrel rolls. At least the harness has been well-tested at this point.

“Ready?” Dizzi calls to me from the cargo shuttles. A dozen harpies are assisting to tow the three shuttles up and down, but other non-flying Fyrethians are also onboard.

I wave back to her. “Let’s go!”

Ollie launches into the sky.

Riding on his back is entirely different from flying on my own. I’m not in control for one, and Ollie is much faster. I squeeze the handholds on the harness and lean down against his neck, the wind pulling tears from my eyes. Ollie is laughing in my head, and as he abruptly folds his wings to drop into a free fall, my stomach lurches into my throat, and I find myself laughing from the thrill—and terror—as well.

I can see why Mirzayael has sworn off flying for good.

At Dizzi’s direction, we alight in a large field at the edge of town. That was a good call on her part. Not only is Ollie unable to break anything out here, we can also avoid inadvertently terrorizing the citizens.

Already a good number of officials and merchants are out waiting for us. As I disembark, I look up at Fyreneth’s Fortress, closer to the horizon than overhead, but breathtakingly massive nonetheless. No wonder everyone seems so awed by our city.

After an hour or so of hammering out logistics, we divide up into a few different groups: one will stay here and handle any of the merchants who come to trade with us (and any of the townsfolk who want to meet Ollie) while the rest of us will take various items into the city to meet with businesses who have expressed interest in working with us. I’m reluctant to leave Ollie, but of course he’s done this many times by now, and seems to know the drill better than me.

The next few hours are a flurry of talk and trade. I’m very glad to have other people with us who have become experienced with such negotiations, because it’s hard for me to stay focused on the conversations at hand.

The city is amazing! I can’t stop staring at the ways magic has been infused in even the most mundane aspects of their society. One square is shaded by a floating canvas that gradually changes colors, simulating a sky that shifts from starry nights, to rolling thunderstorms, to brilliant sunsets. Constructs like Mirzayael’s silk spiders skitter along a miniature raised walking path that runs along the street’s gutters. Giant armadillo-like creatures pull carts, and something that looks part way between a bird and a dinosaur is frequently used as a mount to carry people quickly through the streets.

And that’s just in the marketplaces. I can’t wait to visit some of the shops and see what other more specialized magic tools and resources might still be waiting for us to discover. Maybe we’ll find something here that can help us find the mana ore veins we need to power our city once we land.

After a quick break for lunch back with Ollie and the rest, we wind down the last of our mass-item sales and trades, and begin to scour the marketplace for the niche items on our list that various Fyrethians have requested.

I use this opportunity to head off with Dizzi in search of an artificer to help with Ollie’s translator. He won’t be able to communicate with those we left him with while we’re gone, but he’s plenty used to that, and we should be back within a couple hours, anyway.

Translators are a bit of a specialty item here, as it turns out, so the hunt is a more involved than we’d hoped. Eventually, we’re pointed toward a shop called Arcane Accommodations.

But just as we’re about to step inside, something prickles the back of my neck. I pause, turning back to scan the marketplace. It doesn’t take long to find someone who is looking back.

Blair.

A chill runs through me. Why here? Why now?

“Fyre?” Dizzi asks, lingering in the doorway.

“You go on ahead,” I tell her, not taking my eyes away from the god. “There’s something I want to go take a look at. I’ll catch up in a moment.”

Too distracted by the promise of new spellwork, Dizzi doesn’t question it and ducks inside. A pit of dread settles in my stomach as I cross the street to Blair. Arms crossed, she’s leaning against a wall near the edge of a square, tucked into a sliver of shade.

“Hello, Fyre,” she says passively as I join her. “Pleasure to see you.”

I wish I could say the same. “Blair. Here to test me again?”

“No, actually,” she says. “I was in the area for a different reason, but I thought I might stop by before leaving.”

That’s not the answer I was expecting. Caught slightly off guard, I ask, “Why?”

“Just to see how things are progressing.” She nods her head back toward the edge of town. “That was a good idea with Ollie’s translator.”

“Thanks.” I stand there awkwardly, unsure how to even react to all of this. In the square, kids are playing in a fountain, laughing and shrieking as they chase magically swirling loops of water. It feels surreal to be speaking with a god while the city continues to move around us, entirely unaware.

I quickly scan the rest of the crowd. “Is Shirasil not with you today?”

Her eyebrow faintly twitches. “I see you’ve been doing some research.” Last time when she had spoken with me, her tone had been cool and calculating. Curiously, she sounds more indifferent today.

“It wasn’t that difficult to figure out, since you said his name.” I pause. “Her name?”

Blair chuckles lightly. “Either will do.”

This is not the kind of interaction with her I had been dreading over the past week and a half. She’s acting so casual now. I decide to push my luck. “I couldn’t find your name, however. Or your domain. Are you obscuring elements of your stats?”

Her already faint smile fades. “Yes.”

I wait, but she doesn’t say anything else. Well, I guess that explains that. Kind of anticlimactic, really. “Can you also change your stats?” I ask.

She tips her head. “How do you mean?”

“Our Roles,” I say. “Can they be changed? Mine is restrictive, but it’s Ollie’s I’m worried about. Can you help him?”

I’d tried asking Echo about changing Roles before, but all I’d gotten was a bunch of <ACCESS DENIED>s. If the gods don’t have access, I can’t imagine who would.

Blair is silent for a moment. I half expect her not to answer. Finally, she shakes her head. “No, I’m afraid not. Altering an individual’s Role is not within my power. The fact that you all even have them…” She pauses, as if reconsidering her words. “We are still looking into the matter. For now, the best we can do is suspend them.”

The fact that she’s answering any of my questions has me bursting with dozens more. “You can suspend the Roles?”

Instead of meeting my gaze, Blair is watching the children playing in the fountain as well. “You misunderstand. We can suspend individuals; suspension of their Role is a secondary consequence.”

I’m starting to suspect this is not going to be the answer I’m looking for. “What do you mean by suspending individuals?”

Her gaze returns slowly to me. “Some Travelers have Role Requirements that they haven’t or couldn’t adhere to. We have locked those individuals in a temporal state to prevent their Sanity Stat from further degrading.”

She says this as if it should sound reassuring, but there’s something ominous behind her words. I take a guess at what that might be. “Are those the only Travelers who have been suspended?”

Blair is silent for a long moment, scrutinizing me. Her gaze is intense, and I have to steel myself to not look away.

“No,” she finally says. “Those deemed a threat have also been taken into custody.”

It’s easy to read between the lines: these ‘suspensions’ are obviously some kind of imprisonment. But they’re gods—what would they deem to be a threat?

“That’s why you wanted to test my control over the Dungeon Core,” I cautiously guess. Does that mean I passed?

“Partially, yes,” she admits. “So far, I don’t believe it necessary to confine you.”

“I appreciate it,” I say.

Blair again returns to people watching. “I would not be so fast to thank me. Should you give me any reason to believe that Core of yours poses a threat, I will reconsider my position.”

Briefly, I think of the Fortress’s weapon systems, and I go cold.

“Do we have anything to worry about?” I ask. “Not me and Ollie—but the other Fyrethians? I’ve only been told stories, but given what I know about Fyreneth and Lorata…”

“You would be wise to worry,” Blair admits, which is not the answer I wanted to hear. “But not because they are Fyrethian. There are as many diverging opinions in the pantheon as there are gods. Neither Lisari nor I wish ill to befall your city, but others will disagree. Most gods would likely seize your Dungeon Core the moment they laid eyes on it—regardless of the consequences to your city. My advice: keep its existence quiet. Use classic arcana and cloudstone as the explanation for your city’s flight. Find somewhere to land quickly.”

Easier said than done. Her advice feels more like a warning of impending doom. I’m not sure what to do with this. If two gods have already found us, it’s only a matter of time before more come.

But then she speaks up again.

“I can’t hide you and the boy from the pantheon,” she says. “I will not report your existence, and I will do what I can to steer others away, but that is as much as I can interfere. I will also not report the Dungeon Core. But should it prove to be as dangerous as I believe it has the potential to be—should you demonstrate a loss of control over the remnant—I will not hesitate to suspend you both. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

Her words are a threat, I have no doubt about that. But they’re also a show of mercy.

On the one hand, it’s a relief to know the gods don’t care about the Fyrethians themselves; it’s the Dungeon Core that they seem to be concerned with. On the other, we sort of need it to not drop out of the sky. If we’re able to land first, then a god seizing the Dungeon Core would be bad—it would shut down the city and cripple our infrastructure—but it would not be a death sentence like it is now. Clearly, getting out of the sky needs to move up in the priority list.

“Thank you for your help,” I say. “It sounds like you are taking a risk on our behalf. I was not expecting to encounter kindness from the gods. I will take your words to heart.”

Blair grimaces in response. “As I said, we are not a monolith. Some do pose a threat to your kingdom. But the prevailing mindset within the heavens is shifting. So long as the safety of this world is first ensured, I believe Travelers can be left…”

She pauses, glancing to the side as if something caught her eye. I look as well, but there’s only a storefront in that direction, and as far as I can tell, there’s nothing noteworthy about it. When I look back, I realize she’s not looking at something in the square—she’s looking at something in the System.

Blair abruptly clenches her teeth in a snarl, and—as if I couldn’t be even more shocked by the current encounter—she lets loose a stream of alarming and colorful swears.

Then, Ollie cries out in fear.