Captain Rayan led us toward the bow of the ship, stopping beside the wall. I moved to climb the stairs to the bit of deck above us, but she shook her head at me, sweeping her hands over the cloud in front of us. A door swung open. She started down a long staircase, and we followed.

The buzz of conversation was my first hint that we were getting close. We went halfway down a hall and turned into a doorway, and there we were. The room in front of us was full of people. Down here, the walls and floor were of a darker color, much more solid, with brackets for torches at regular points. Couches, and chairs, and strange looking piles of cloud were covered with people. They talked amongst themselves. Clear, happy laughter rose occasionally above the mess of voices. They were all heights and shapes and ages, all different. I couldn't help but relax.

Then Captain Rayan cleared her throat, and all eyes turned toward us. I tensed again. The attention was uncomfortable, and I had to remind myself to breathe slowly, to not panic. Lark noticed and gently set her hand on my shoulder.

"Are these the new Blesseds?" a girl from the front asked. She was young and thin, with olive skin and raven hair, and a subtle smile which made me like her instantly.

Captain Rayan nodded. "These are..." She turned to me. "I forgot to ask. What are your names?"

"I'm Fyra," I said.

"And I'm Lark," Lark added.

Reed and Bran looked at each other hesitantly, and Reed spoke first.

"Reed."

"Bran."

"It's nice to meet you," said the girl. "What are your powers?"

"I can control deathbirds," I said.

Lark looked at Reed, and after a moment of silent communication, she turned back to the others and said, "I work magic with violin music."

"I draw things to life," said Reed.

Bran hesitated. "Uh... We don't exactly know what I do. It has something to do with magical energies, though."

Captain Rayan shot a radiant smile his way. "Is that why you could destroy my ghosts?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure."

"Ah well," said the girl from the front of the crowd. "You'll have plenty of chances to figure out what your powers are while you're here. I didn't figure out exactly what I could do until I'd been here for..." She turned to the elderly woman who sat beside her. "Two years?"

"I believe it was two and a half," said the woman.

"They haven't yet decided whether they're staying or not," said Captain Rayan. She turned to us. "You have a mission, don't you? A quest? You are from that cursed village?"

"Yeah," said Reed. "We are."

"And your quest is... to lift the curse?"

"Yes."

"You're just children."

Bran shrugged, a sour look on his face. "That doesn't matter to them."

"They're afraid of you," she said knowingly. "They always are. But here, you don't have to worry about that. We protect our own. Sharla?"

The girl at the front grinned, her attention instantly snapping from us to Captain Rayan. "Yes?"

"Would you be willing to accompany them for a while? You know, the usual thing for newcomers—give them the tour, introduce them to everyone, and keep them from getting too lost."

"Sure," said Sharla.

In one explosive, bouncy movement where she nearly tripped over the foot of the elderly woman sitting beside her, she stood and walked over to us.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," she echoed, a grin lifting the corner of her mouth. "You're the one who said you can control deathbirds. Fyra, right?"

I nodded.

"Our talents aren't that different." She paused. "Well, I mean, they are, but not by a lot. I control animals too. Sort of."

"What's your Blessing?" Lark asked.

"I control rocks," she said. Then she frowned. "Well, I bring rocks to life, that is. Then I control them." She rooted around in her pocket for a moment, and brought out a small, lumpy chunk of rock. "Like this guy. His name is Granite."

I frowned at the rock. It looked incredibly ordinary, grey with silver flecks, the kind of rock you might find on a riverbed, or in the ground.

It began to move. As we watched, seven legs popped out of its sides. It stood.

"Do you want to hold it?" Sharla asked.

Lark nodded enthusiastically and held out a hand for the small creature. A small, catlike face formed and stared up at her. Bran shuddered.

"What?" I said. "You don't like the seven-legged rock cat?"

He glared at me. "No. I do not like the seven-legged rock cat. It's creepy."

"I think it's cute," said Lark, petting it gently with the tip of her finger.

It let out a low, grating purr, then scampered back to Sharla, who put it into her pocket.

"Anyway," she said, "you probably want to get into dry clothes."

Reed frowned. "About that. We left all of our things behind in bags when the ghosts grabbed us. Is there a way someone can get those up here?"

"Definitely." She turned away from us, eyes sweeping across the crowd and settling on a young, red haired boy. "Dren!" she called. "Come here!"

The boy looked up at the sound of his name and made his way over to us. "What?"

"They left their stuff behind," Sharla explained.

Dren gave a long-suffering sigh. "You want me to get it?"

"Yup."

"Fine." He held out his hand to Reed and, in a bored drone of a voice, said, "Picture what you want in your head. Concentrate on it. Close your eyes if you have to."

Reed took Dren's hand and closed his eyes.

"Wait for it," said Sharla. "Wa-ait."

"Shut up," said Dren without opening his eyes. "It's hard enough to concentrate already without hearing your voice."

Sharla rolled her eyes but said no more.

A moment later, the packs materialized between Reed and Dren. The boy pulled away from Reed.

"That's that," he said.

"Thanks," said Reed.

"Thanks!" the boy exclaimed, turning to Sharla. "Did you hear that? Thanks! This kid has manners, unlike some people I know."

He stormed off.

Lark looked at Sharla confusedly. "What was that about?"

Sharla shifted uncomfortably. "Well, there are no rocks in the sky, and for my powers to work, I really need rocks. He gets rocks for me. Sometimes." She met Lark's gaze. "To be fair, I do ask pretty often."

"Constantly!" Dren yelled from the other side of the room.

Sharla stuck out her tongue at him. "Not constantly! I'm not asking you now, am I?"

Dren ignored her.

"Anyway," said Sharla, "I'll show you to your rooms. Do you mind sharing with others?"

We all shook our heads.

Sharla grinned. "Great. You'll be easy guests, I can already tell. Only... I'm not actually allowed in the boy's area. Dren!"

He angrily stomped over. "What!"

"Can you show Reed and Bran to a room?"

"Maybe."

"Please?" said Lark.

He huffed. "Fine. This way."

"Thank you!" Sharla shouted at his retreating back. He didn't answer.

She turned back to us. "Dren's okay, really, once you get to know him. He's just a bit... standoffish, at first."

"He's no worse than my little brother," said Lark.

"Ah," said Sharla. "I'm glad I don't have siblings." She turned and began to walk away from us. "Anyway, follow me. I'm sure you want to get out of those soggy clothes."

For every vote on this chapter, Sharla gets another rock.