"Why isn't it landing?" asked Derrin.

"When it's on the ground, there isn't room for that door to open all the way," replied Thomas. "On the ground, it can open enough for people to come and go through it, but not enough for the scout ships to go in. Besides, it's not intended that it will ever land again, except perhaps in its landing cradle on Kronos. The landing legs are only a precaution. Of course, the King ordered it to land in Tara, but that was a special case. Kings can give orders like that. It's one of the reasons people like being Kings."

"Judging by the way it was moving just now, it's probably not a good idea to get too close to the ground anyway," added Lirenna.

"Yeah," agreed Thomas, who'd been thinking the same thing. "No, this is the way it'll be on any new world we end up exploring. The mothership comes low enough into the atmosphere to drop off a scoutship, and its crew explores that world while the Jules Verne returns to the safety of high space, only returning to pick up the scoutship again when the mission's over. The mothership must be kept safe, you see, because it's our only way home."

"I wish I were going with you," said the boy dreamily. "Can I come with you? Please?"

"I'm afraid not," replied Thomas with a grin. "You need to stay here to carry on with your studies if you want to be a wizard. You do still want to be a wizard, don't you?"

"Yes! More than ever."

Thomas and Lirenna chuckled and Elmias reached up to stroke the boy's leg. "Be diligent in your studies, my lad, and one day you'll be the greatest wizard there ever was. You'll go places and do things no-one ever dreamed of before."

The dignitaries were leaving the scout ship now, all except one man in military uniform who was remaining aboard. Saturn paused to pass a few last words with him before following the others to the gangplank.

"That must be him," said Lirenna as the boy whose eyes she was seeing through shaded them with a slender hand and squinted to see better. "The Captain."

Thomas nodded, forgetting for the moment that she couldn't see him. Captain Phil Strong, the man who'd been chosen to command the Jules Verne. Until a few weeks before he'd been Captain of the Prince Reynard, one of the four Prince class warships named after the sons of the last Emperor that had patrolled the Western Sea. Back in the old days those ships had patrolled the trade routes from Ilandia to Widowmaker's Point, protecting the lucrative trade routes upon which Ilandia depended from the pirates that plagued the area.

Now that Ilandia was no longer a Beltharan province, though, their roles had changed somewhat. They still attacked every pirate ship they came across, but they were now just as likely to harass any Ilandian ships they encountered, particularly Ilandian warships. The King wanted to maintain a presence in the Western Sea and the Prince class ships, along with the couple of dozen lesser warships based at the Beltharan island fortress of Greyhaven in the Tew estuary, were it. A reminder that Belthar was still a power to be reckoned with and the King's stick whenever he wanted to throw his weight around. They were the main reason why the new Queen of Ilandia was busily building up her own navy, determined that this last vestige of imperial domination be sent to the bottom of the sea as soon as possible. The Western Sea belonged to Ilandia now, and Belthar had no business there. No business at all.

"Phil Strong," mused Thomas thoughtfully. "That's an Ilandian name. Wonder if he was born a countryman."

"His ancestors may have been Ilandian," replied Lirenna, "but he must be well trusted by the King to have been given command of a Prince class ship, and now the Ship of Space. Don't expect him to be overjoyed to find that you come from the land of his ancestors. He has reason to distrust Ilandians now." Thomas nodded solemnly.

The Captain was barking orders now, and crewmen were running to and fro along the decks of both scout ships. Thomas wasn't sure what they were doing exactly as none of the masts were swung into position and none of the sails unfurled. Instead, the two ships began to rise slowly into the air and swing around to face the mothership, moving solely under the power of their Orbs of Levitation which, Thomas knew, were capable of providing some forward thrust, although the ships normally depended on the wind for lateral movement.

They rose until they were level with the Jules Verne, and then the Dragonfly turned, rotating slowly until it was facing the Ship of Space. Then it began to edge cautiously forwards, adjusting its position time and again until it was directly in front of the open hanger. The slightest mistake would result in a scraping collision that would probably cause far more damage to the wooden scoutship than the steel Ship of Space, and so when it began moving forwards it did so with painful slowness, squeezing its way in through the narrow opening. Thomas knew that when it was sitting safely in its cradle the fore and aft decks of the scoutship were only inches below the ceiling of the hanger deck, making it a very tight squeeze. There was no room for the rope handrail that ran around the fore and aft decks when the scoutship was in flight, and so the poles had been removed from the holes in the deck in which they normally stood and now lay on the deck planking, rolled up in the rope that normally stretched between them.

Finally, only the rear of the scout ship was visible, and Thomas imagined various locking bars and clamps being swung into place to hold it firmly in position. The ballista at the rear rose higher than any other part of the ship, and the ceiling of the hanger deck nearest the door was higher to make room for it. This meant that the scout ships could only enter the hanger deck bow first and would have to reverse their way back out again.

A few minutes later the second ship began to make its approach. This time it took a bit longer, as the Orbmaster seemed to have a bit of trouble getting himself lined up, and as it crept into the hanger the two skids that ran along the underside of the scout ship scraped against the edge of the door. No sign of trouble was visible to the crowd, though, and a loud cheer broke out as the small vessel squeezed in to sit next to its twin. Derrin waved his little hands in the air, cheering with the crowd, and the sky was lit up with the flashes and streamers of illusion spells cast by a small group of fifth year apprentices. A pair of proctors shouldered their way through the crowd to put a stop to it.

The Jules Verne hung motionless in the sky for several minutes, and then the hanger door slowly began to close as four burly men in the hanger bay turned a large crank handle. Soon, the ship was a smooth sphere again, and a moment after that it began to move. It drifted to the north, to where the nearest peaks of the Blue Mountains scratched the sky. It rounded the angular shoulders of the Enchanter's Peak, disappearing for a moment behind the ten thousand foot spire of ice and rock, and when it reappeared it was lower. A mere fifty yards above the base of the valley. It shot across Lexandria Valley, directly above the awestruck, upturned faces of the crowd, buffeting them with the wake of its passage, and then it shot straight up into the air in a manoeuvre that would have torn the wings from the mightiest eagle. It shrank to a tiny, brilliant, sunlit dot above them, and then it was gone as if it had never been.

Cheers and applause exploded from the crowd, followed by the babble of a thousand excited conversations. "Well, that's that," said Thomas, lowering his son from his aching shoulders. "More than likely it'll never return to our world."

"More than likely," agreed Elmias, still squinting up into the sky. "By the Gods, though, I wish I could be going with you! Seeking out new worlds and new civilisations. Boldly going and all that. Just like I used to do, back in the old days. Ah, the places I've seen, you wouldn't believe. You wouldn't believe..." His voice trailed away, and the dreamy look that he wore more and more often these days returned to his eyes.

"He needs to rest now," said the young acolyte, and she gently guided the old wizard back towards the carriage that would take him back to his mansion, staffed by a small army of devoted retainers who cared for him in his declining years.

Thomas watched him go with sadness, silently giving thanks to the Gods that the coming of the Jules Verne had taken place on one of the old wizard's good days, when he seemed almost the Elmias Pastin of legend. His bad days, when he was barely able to remember who he was, were coming more and more often now, and he was liable to suffer sudden mental grey-outs even on his best days. He made a mental note to call in on him from time to time, to see how he was doing. Maybe Lirenna could bring some of her honey cakes and they could talk about the old days, for as long as the old man was able to remember them.

He was jolted out of his gloomy thoughts by Gunther Fugh, calling his name as he dodged and elbowed his way through the dispersing crowd towards them. "Tom! Tom! Oh! Good day, my lady!" he cried in embarrassment, noticing for the first time that Thomas had his wife with him.

The demi shae smiled in amusement. "Call me Lenny," she said. "All my friends do."

He bowed to her. "I would be honoured, my, er, Lenny." He smiled at her uncertainly, then turned back to her husband. "Tom! They've finally posted the full crew complement! Guess who's on it?"

Elmias's sad condition had left Thomas in no mood for guessing games. "Who?" he asked.

Gunther spoke slowly and emphatically, as if revealing one of the great truths of the universe. "Braddle Bandock. Bumbly Braddle himself!"

Thomas and Lirenna both stared in amazement. "Braddle?" exclaimed Thomas in astonishment. "The nome? The Pastoran nome?"

"The same," confirmed Gunther, delighted by their reaction. "He's the fourth wizard. One of the best diviners in the valley, which is no doubt why he was chosen, but even so... A Pastoran nome! Can you imagine it?"

"Should be interesting," said Thomas, starting to smile. "Imagine if he tries out his nomish sense of humour on Saturn." Lirenna's hand flew to her mouth in delight and her eyes stared wide.

Apparently, Saturn's already had a stern word with him," said Gunther. "Warning him exactly what'll happen if he does. The rest of us had better be on our toes, though."

"Might be a good idea to make sure we keep on his good side," agreed Thomas. "I doubt he'll be much in the mood for pranks and foolishness, though. He'll be too busy enjoying the adventure like the rest of us. I mean, just imagine the places we'll see, the people we'll meet. I can hardly wait!"

"We'll be aboard soon enough," said Lirenna, feeling her husband's joy and infected by it. She found herself wishing that they could be leaving now. Right this minute "Let's not wish our life away too fast, though. It's going to be an experience unlike anything we've ever known before. An experience never to be repeated. Let's make sure we take the time to appreciate every moment of it, and that includes these last precious days leading up to it."

The two men nodded their agreement, and the three of them stared up into the sky, their imaginations already following the Ship of Space out among the stars and to the strange and wonderful worlds waiting to be discovered.

To be continued.

Coming soon, the saga of The Last Perfect Days continues...

Tak

Thomas Gown has become an important part of the Rossem Project and his contribution may be vital to its eventual success, but he has also become a pawn in a desperate struggle between ancient powers who care nothing for the civilisation Thomas has sworn to protect. He gradually learns that his importance to them has roots reaching back to a peasant boy whose parents scratched out a living on the very edges of civilisation three thousand years ago...

The Worlds of the Sheaf

The Rossem Project is close to success, and will allow a hand picked expedition to explore other worlds, searching for the threat that faces the planet Tharia, but as they begin their mission they discover that there are many other threats out there, and that the one they originally feared may be the very least of them...

The Gem Lords

Thomas Gown's connection to a group of powerful wizards who lived thousands of years ago is finally revealed, and he learns that he may be able to save his world and his civilisation, along with others beyond number, from a threat that will manifest itself in the far distant future. The only way he can do this, though, is by accepting a destiny that has been chosen for him by ancient, implacable powers centuries ago. If he does this, though, it would mean sacrificing any hope for a normal life and leaving his home, his wife and his child forever...

Have you read the previous Chronicles of Tharia, The Fourth Shadowwar?

The Sceptre of Samnos

At the end of the Third Shadowwar, the forces of evil were defeated so thoroughly, so completely, that no-one thought they would ever threaten civilisation again, but they were wrong. Terribly, disastrously wrong...

Defenders of the Faith

War is coming, and the Beltharan Empire has only a few weeks to prepare for the greatest crisis in its history. Frenzied preparations are made, amongst which is an expedition to a lost and forgotten fortress to recover an ancient artifact, the creation of one of the mightiest wizards in history and possessing power beyond imagination. The fate of the world may depend on it, but the spies of the enemy are everywhere and the expedition may already have been betrayed...

The Sword of Retribution

Once again the armies of darkness are sweeping across the world and this time there may be no stopping them. Only by standing together can the heroes of civilization hope to prevail, but at this hour of their greatest trial the mightiest of their number is absent, fighting a less important war in the World Below, unaware of the deadly peril facing all mankind. He must be recalled to stand beside his brothers in arms, but to reach him a small group of volunteers must cross some of the deadliest terrain on or under the world, facing dangers beyond their ability to imagine...

The Fallen World

Lost and alone, disheartened by failure and wanting only to go home, Thomas Gown and his companions face the darkest hour of their lives when they stumble across a remnant of the once mighty Agglemonian Empire. There they make a stunning discovery that could mean the salvation of the world if only they can get word to the desperate, embattled armies of civilization, but instead they face a lifetime of crippling servitude, hopeless prisoners of the insane tyrant, Lord Basil Konnen...

The Caverns of Kronos

Thomas Gown and his companions have escaped from captivity, but only by fleeing deeper into the unknown, to face new dangers. They are carrying a secret that could save the world, though, and they have a duty to take it to those who can make use of it, but to do that they must return to the city of Kronosia, to go back among those from whom they have only just escaped...

The Scrolls of Skava

The fate of the world hangs in the balance. Belthar faces imminent defeat, and if the empire falls there will be nothing left to oppose the armies of darkness. One hope remains, one last all or nothing gamble, but for it to succeed the heroes of civilization have to find a way to team up with their bitterest enemies, creatures every bit as evil as the Bone Prince but whose existence is also threatened by the undead hordes. Side by side, they must march together into the very heart of the Shadow...