Chapter 1
“It’s the fastest airship ever built,” Camden announced, gesturing proudly to the massive ship across the yard. Though Amaya knew little about airships, she couldn’t deny the grandeur of this one.
Like a traditional seafaring ship, it had port and starboard decks, large masts boasting retractable sails, and a helm shaped like a spoked wheel. But it also had extendable wings folded in on its sides.
This ship would sail the skies.
Amaya could hear the humming of the many engines even from the distanced viewing deck they stood on. Engineers scurried around the vessel like ants, preparing it for a test flight. Thankfully, none of them had noticed Amaya and Camden lurking on the deck above.
“It’s very impressive,” Amaya agreed, turning to walk around the deck for a new vantage point. Her hand ran along the steel railing, the metal cool and smooth against her skin.
She glanced back at Camden, who stood a short distance away with his arms crossed. He wore dark canvas overalls smudged with soot, his hands greasy from working on the engines. Sweat plastered dark brown curls to his forehead.
Even after knowing Cam for her entire life, Amaya had never seen him more in his element. This apprenticeship was a dream come true for him.
“You know, I’ve never actually been on an airship,” she said.
Camden’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Never?”
“Dad thinks it’s dangerous, what with the pirates and all.”
“Sure, but how often do they raid passenger ships?”
Amaya shrugged. “Enough.”
“Hm. Well, maybe if we stopped stealing the sky cities’ primary export, they wouldn’t feel the need to raid.”
Camden regarded the ship wistfully, and Amaya ignored the politically charged statement. His independent studies on airships and the advanced engineering that made the sky cities possible had led him down some radical rabbit holes in the past, and she had no interest in sparking a debate.
“What do you suppose they’re like? The sky cities?” Cam asked.
Amaya tried to imagine the floating cities in her mind’s eye, relying on the blurry photographs and illustrations she’d seen in school textbooks. But reciting a description wouldn’t answer Cam’s question.
What were they like?
What was it like to live your entire life without ever touching solid ground? Did everything feel like it was moving? Did it feel like you could reach out and swirl the sunset with your finger, or capture a star?
“I . . . I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe we’ll find out someday.”
Someday, meaning if Veridian ever decided to make peace with the sky cities and the Sky Lords that defended them. If the relic trade ever became regulated. When that happened, maybe there would be a world where she and Camden could explore a sky city together.
“First things first. Get on an airship,” Amaya said, smiling back at him.
“Right. We’ll have to get that arranged.”
Amaya folded her hands behind her back as she continued her walk, noting the placement of the cannons and thrusters and admiring the vibrant sails. The bow featured an impressive sculpted angel painted gold, her wings extending along the outer walls.
Beneath her wings, on either side, was the ship’s name: Empyrean. A magnificent name for a magnificent airship worthy of the Royal Fleet, capable of setting the sky on fire and demolishing any enemies that dared to stand against it.
Amaya almost asked if Camden would dare to sneak past the workers and onto one of the ships below. Maybe her first day on an airship could be today.
But no—they were breaking enough rules already. His apprenticeship was too new to push their luck.
“I’m sure I’ll find my way onto one at some point,” she said instead. “Victor will want to show off his ship once he’s been promoted.”
“Ah, yes. I imagine he will.” Cam fell silent, and Amaya instantly wished she hadn’t said anything.
“I’m sorry—”
“How’s that going, by the way?” Cam asked, cutting her off.
Amaya blinked. “Hm?”
“Victor.”
“Oh.”
Camden said Victor’s name as if it didn’t sting. He was so good at that. Amaya wasn’t. They didn’t talk about Victor.
Her lips tightened into a thin line as she contemplated the question.
“ . . . Fine,” she said. “But he won’t shut up about his promotion. It’s annoying.”
Camden let out a hollow chuckle and shook his head.
“Well, I hope he gets it soon. For both your sakes.”
“Me too.”
But then again, Amaya worried about what came after the promotion. She couldn’t shake the feeling that a proposal wouldn’t be far behind, and she did not want that.
It was a smart match—a Royal Fleet Captain with the Lord Mayor of Sorrento’s daughter. And Victor was a safe, predictable choice. But he wasn’t her choice.
Amaya constantly reminded herself it was a match not unlike that of her parents, and they had turned out just fine. More than fine. There was something to be said about growing in love instead of falling headfirst.
Most days, Amaya could convince herself that she was fine, too. But when Cam stood beside her, the thought of Victor still twisted her stomach into knots.
Her thoughts had begun to wander into a dark room best forgotten when a shadowy silhouette cut into her peripheral vision. Thinking they’d been caught, and talking Camden out of trouble would fall to her, Amaya broke out of the memory and snapped her gaze to the figure.
He stood on the opposite end of the observation deck, wearing all black with a long mane of greasy hair to match. His skin was even paler than Amaya’s, giving him a ghostly, almost translucent appearance. A chill skittered down her spine as she pivoted toward Camden.
“Cam, someone’s watching us,” she hissed, returning to her friend with quick, feather-light steps. “Over there.”
Camden’s eyes slid past her shoulder to where she’d just seen the unwelcome onlooker. He frowned.
“Where?”
Amaya whipped around, expecting to see the man again, but he’d vanished. Her brows knit together as she scanned the deck for any indication of where he’d gone, but there was nothing.
Unease sank to the pit of her stomach. They weren’t supposed to be here; Camden was just an apprentice. Maybe the man was a supervisor who had gone to report them.
“We should go,” she said. “I need to get to class, anyway.”
Cam nodded. “I’ll drive you.”
“I hope you’re happy,” Grace Hargreeves said as Amaya and Camden slid into his beat-up car.
Camden’s sixteen-year-old sister sat in the back seat with a science textbook in her hands, and a stack of five more beside her.
They’d picked her up from school not an hour ago, and she was already studying again.
“Very. You should have joined us,” Amaya said, grinning back at the girl. Grace sat prim and proper as ever, with impeccable posture and a perfectly pressed school uniform, her dark, tightly wound curls held back by a headband.
“I can’t be associated with your shenanigans. I’d lose my scholarship,” Grace said. “You’re just lucky you didn’t get caught.”
“Relax, Grace,” Camden said with a chuckle. He threw a wink in Amaya’s direction and reached back to ruffle Grace’s hair, a motion she playfully swatted away. “We never get caught.”
Grace giggled while Amaya’s smile briefly faltered. She recovered it quickly.
A miasma of grease and motor oil clung to the inside of Camden’s beat-up car. Amaya rolled down the window for some fresh air as they drove, eliciting another soft laugh from her friend.
“Do I smell bad?” he asked.
“Yes!” Grace piped up from the back.
“What? No,” Amaya disagreed. But the quirk of his lips meant he knew she was lying. Amaya rolled her eyes and giggled, adjusting her position to lean against the partially open window. “The chemicals give me a headache.”
Camden adopted an aristocratic air. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Sinclair.”
“Oh, stop.” Amaya laughed, smacking Camden’s arm. “I hate that.”
And by that, she meant being called “Miss Sinclair.” Miss Sinclair was for maids and butlers, not friends. Not Cam.
“Why else would I do it?”
“Do you annoy your sisters this much?”
“Just Olive. I’m still trying to figure out what fazes Grace,” Camden said, glancing at his youngest sister through the rearview mirror.
“Nothing fazes Grace,” she said, turning a page of her book.
“I doubt that. Not even boys?” Amaya asked.
“Hey, excuse me,” Cam said, flicking Amaya’s shoulder. “That’s my baby sister. She’s not allowed to talk to boys for at least two more years.”
“As if I’d want to. Have you met the boys my age?” Grace said, shuddering.
Amaya laughed, nudging Camden. “That’s true. You were a menace at sixteen.”
“I’m still a menace, thank you very much. And so are you.”
“I do my best.” Amaya stuck her tongue out at him and settled more comfortably against the window, toying with the vintage locket hanging around her neck as she watched the other cars roll by.
The cool, familiar edges of the faceted gemstones and exposed clock pieces encrusting the outside, smoothed over with time, had always relaxed her.
Meanwhile, her trained ear picked up on a faint crescendo coming from the car’s speakers.
She turned it up, allowing a female jazz singer’s warm voice to fill the car.
Amaya’s hand fell on her thigh to tap out the rhythm as if she were playing the piano.
The music blended with the ambience of the city filtering in through the cracked window, creating a symphony.
Sorrento was the capital city of Veridian, the largest and most powerful empire in the world—and the only one that mattered, as far as Amaya was concerned.
It was only natural that Sorrento was also the birthplace of the modern airship, and thus, the indirect origin point of most human achievements since then.
The ten sky cities and everything that came with them, industrialization and the expansion of trade, and the establishment of Veridian as the world’s militaristic superpower, all began a hundred years ago, on these very streets.
Sometimes, Amaya wondered what stories the old cobblestones beneath them could tell.