There’s total silence, save for the creak and moan of the airship’s boards. Theo is staring down at the diamond in his hand, face lit with greed. Panic hits me and I lunge forward, knocking the diamond out of Theo’s hand. It slips out of my grasping fingers and hits the deck with a sharp “pock”, rolling alarmingly fast out of my reach. The hulking Dorlan stoops down and grabs for it, and the scream that rips from my throat makes him jerk his hand back momentarily, as if he’s been burned. Luckily it gives me enough time to lash out with my boot, which connects with his jaw and sends him stumbling backwards. He crashes into the railing of the ship, which gives way with a terrible crack. In one horrifying second Dorlan is there, arms flailing, and then he drops out of sight.

                Theo gives a startled shout and barrels forward, hanging over the edge, one hand bracing himself on the broken off railing, then he whips around, unbridled fury in his eyes. I dart one hand out and grab the diamond off the deck, then back away quickly as Theo advances on me, “Why the hell did you do that, girl? He ain’t comin’ back from that. He was gonna give your damned rock back…”

                True, I felt a pang of remorse for it, but I didn’t believe that for a second, “I’m sorry about him. I didn’t mean to…”

                Theo’s face contorted in an ugly sneer, “sure, you didn’t mean to. That makes it better. You just killed my man over a bleedin’ diamond.” He lurches forward, hand raised and I jump back, my fingers curl more tightly around the diamond, and Gus shouts behind me,

                “Theo, stop!”

                Theo does stop, but not because of Gus. A look of confusion crosses his ugly face, and he lurches to a sudden halt. I step back, heart beating wildly. The first black vein is streaking across Theo’s cheek. Suddenly I know we’re in trouble, deadly serious trouble. Being trapped on an airship with a man transforming into a monster type trouble.

                Gus’ voice shakes, “cousin Theo?”

                I shoot him a look over my shoulder, trying to tell him I’m sorry, even though I can’t get the words out. This is my fault, even if I didn’t mean for it to happen, it’s my fault he saw the diamond in the first place. I turn back to Theo, pulling the curved sword Jasper gave me from my belt. My hands shake, so hard I can barely grip it. Part of me is saying that I should just lop off his head right now, save us all the trouble. But the other half of me knows I can’t do it. Not in front of Gus. I have to wait until he’s a raging, drooling menace to all of us, just so Gus sees that I’m killing a monster and not his cousin.

                Theo is growling now, holding his head, lurching with the motion of the ship. The ship. My blood freezes even further when I realize that the ship has nobody steering it. No one to pilot us safely onto the outskirts of Bristol. No one to land us without crashing. Panic takes me, seizing my chest and punching me in the gut so hard I can barely breath. I’m distracted for a moment, eyes drawn to the helm, and Ellie’s screech of warning jerks my attention back to Theo, who is in mid-lunge, black veins streaking up his neck and cheeks. I bring the sword up sharply, wildly, and the flat of the blade glances off the side of his head. He reels back and lunges again, clumsily, and I plant my boot in his gut and shove him back, grunting at the effort. When I look back, Gus is gripping Ellie’s hand tightly, his face pale and drawn, “Gus,” I say, and he nods, voice come out in a rasp, “do it.”

                I swing around just as  Theo is charging again, guttural growl ripping from his contorted lips, beady eyes black with rage and blood-lust. I shove him back again, and again, until he’s at the edge of the broken railing. The ship lurches slightly, and I brace myself on the boards with a frightened gasp, sure that I’m about to go sliding over the side to plummet to the ground. Theo’s boots don’t grip like mine do, and he skitters backwards, towards the broken railing, arms pin-wheeling. Taking advantage of this, I lash out with the sword. The blade cuts through his neck like butter, and black blood – if that’s what it is – oozes from the sudden slash. One more boot in the chest and he’s gone, disappearing over the railing with a gargling shriek.

                When I turn back to Gus and Ellie, my heart sinks. Gus is hanging his head between his knees and she’s rubbing his back. He may not have been really close with Theo, but it doesn’t change the fact that I just killed a member of his family.

                “Gus,” I pant, hands on my knees, barely keeping myself on my feet, “I’m sorry…”

                That’s all I get to say before the ship lurches again, and I’m knocked off my feet, falling to my hands and knees so hard it makes me see stars. Ellie and Gus both shriek, and I hear thumps on the deck as they’re thrown forward. Throwing out one hand I manage to grab the railing as the ship lurches, dragging myself forward to peer over the edge. What I see sends shocks of panic through my entire body and makes me dizzy and sick. We’re hundreds – maybe thousands – of feet over the ground. I can see the city of Bristol looming closer and closer, the dark stone wall is coming up fast. It looks like we’re going to drive right into it.

                There’s no time for apologies, or to grieve over dead relatives, we’re going to crash, “Gus!” I look back to see Gus and Ellie clinging to the rails, “know how to drive this thing? Please say you do!”

                Gus’ voice is strained with panic, “Kidding me? I’ve never flown an airship in my life.”

                I lean over the rail again, clutching it so hard that splinters pierce both my hands, “then brace yourself, because it’s not going to be a cushy landing!”

The deck lurches again, and I shut my eyes, determined that if I’m going to die, I’m at least going to picture puppies and kittens or something, instead of watching the ground come at me a million miles an hour. I can hear Ellie shrieking as the deck tilts suddenly underneath me. I want to turn and check if they’re okay, but all I can do is desperately grip the railing and squeeze my eyes shut at the stomach-dropping sensation, imagining the ship plummeting out of the sky. All I can think is, I’m going to die. There’s whistling noise in my ears, overcoming the sound of my screams, the sound of Gus and Ellie’s terrified shrieking, the alarming creak of wood. The air rushes past so fast I’m dizzy, sick to my stomach, pulse pounding . Pressure is building in my skull and suddenly the edges of my vision are growing blurry. There’s one sharp scream in the distance, and then a sudden, earth-shattering impact and black hits me like a fist in the face.

                Light. Darkness. Light. Pictures move around me like a dream. Someone’s hands are on my arms, tight, bruising my skin. Dragging me backwards over the ground. My boot heels bump over rocks, churning up clumps of dirt. Then the darkness flickers back in again and my surroundings disappear.

                Flickering light. Whispering voices. All I can hear is the whispers.

                “think they’ll wake up?”

                “This one is out, look at the gash on her head. She ain’t waking up from this one.”

                “The witch woman may be able to fix her…careful now, the high empress…”

                “Shut yer gob, I know what I’m doing.”

                The world keeps spinning in dizzying arcs above my head, until my eyes drop shut again and the whispering fades to nothing.

                The first thing I’m aware of is the intense pain in the right side of my head. A throbbing, knife-like stabbing in my temple. My eyes flutter open and a brilliant, stinging light hits me full in the face. I shut them again just as fast.

                Where am I?

                I stretch my hands out, running my fingers across the surface I’m laying on, feeling soft, cotton sheets. I’m in a bed.  There’s no noise around me, the silence weighs in on all sides. The air smells like ointment, chamomile and sage.  Is this heaven?

                No. If we’ve crashed and died, heaven seems the least likely place I’d end up. I try to open my eyes again, more slowly this time, thoughts running straight to Gus and Ellie. Are they alright? Did they survive the crash? I need to know.

                Gradually the searing light becomes  less agonizing, and the room swims into focus around me. It’s a long, rectangular shaped room with maroon walls, dimly lit by gas lanterns on both sides. There are beds along both walls, and a carpeted aisle running between them. Some kind of infirmary?

                I’m in one of the middle beds, apparently, but when I try to sit up to get a better look at the room, I’m jerked right back down to the mattress, a sharp pain in both wrists. When I glance down at myself, I find I’ve been dressed in a simple white gown of soft cotton – which is nice – and that my wrists and ankles have been lashed to the bed with rope. Not so nice.

                Clearly not a guest at whatever deranged establishment this is. I look around frantically, noticing that most of the other beds are empty, save for a man at the far end whose head is entirely wrapped in bandages. For a moment I wonder if he might be Gus, but then he gives a guttural grunt of, “food, food!” and I know it’s not his voice.

                Where are Gus and Ellie?

                The double doors of the infirmary open on the far end, and footsteps jerk my head up. There’s some kind of strange procession marching down the aisle towards me. A woman in an elaborate gold headdress that perches on her Cleopatra-length black hair, she’s flanked by four huge men in long silk robes. They look ridiculous, and I’d be tempted to laugh at them, if it weren’t for the long, pointy spears they’re holding. Guards, obviously. So that makes her….

                “Do not look the high empress in the face, scum!”

                One of the guards barks at me, and I blink at the sudden sting on the side of my face, snarling at the one who struck me, “that’s pretty brave of you, smacking a girl all tied up to the table. You gonna go brag to your friends about it?”

                He raises his hand again, but the high empress raises hers, and he reluctantly stands down. When she speaks her accent is baffling, choppy and clipped, like an English woman trying to alter how she sounds, “You are an anti-mage, are you not?”

                I just stare at her, unblinking. They’re not asking me about the diamond. What’s more, I can feel the weight of the damn thing in my hip pocket. Does that mean they don’t even know about it? It seems too good to be true. Then again, a plague inducing diamond can’t really do much to get me out of these ropes, can it?