Clarissa went to sleep happier than she could remember being in a long time. She had spent hours on the deck with Yannick, spying wonder after wonder on a dozen different islands, all of which she wished desperately to see. Yannick had given her a small notebook, already half-filled with drawing and notes they had taken about the islands they saw through the telescopes, a notebook now tucked into her bag so it could keep travelling with her.

She awoke feeling light and airy, as if she had been resting on a cloud. Her back barely felt like she was touching the bed, and she idly wondered if she could just float away if she pushed off the mattress.

It took a moment for Clarissa to wake up, and she realized her formerly drowsy mind hadn't been thinking in metaphor. Her back and her legs weren't even touching her bunk, her chest was being pulled at by her sleeping bag, and her arms hung limply in the air in front of her. She flailed in a spastic scare, thankfully still trapped in her sleeping bag that was tied at the corners to her bunk.

Clarissa took a deep breath to calm herself, and realized she was weightless. She laughed, surprised and pleased, and pushed at the hair now drifting in front of her face. Her hands gripped the front of the sleeping bag, and she pulled herself upright.

And realized doing so was a terrible mistake.

She began to drift out of her bed in a slow spiral, up into the air. Clarissa clung to her sleeping bag, her hair whipping about from the motion to wallop her in the face. She looked around and realized that the walls were covered in small handholds and bars to grip. She pulled herself out and reached for the nearest one.

She smiled and sighed in relief once her hand held onto the wall, despite now having her feet dangling up near the ceiling. She reached for the next handle, pulling herself along with absurd ease, as she climbed over to where her bag of clothes had been clipped to the wall.

Clarissa realized she wasn't the one who had done that.

She opened her bag, and carefully pulled out what she planned on wearing, fighting to keep everything else inside. She was halfway through getting her shirt off when she realized she had let go of the wall. And was now exactly three inches from any surface she could touch.

"Oh no," Clarissa said to herself. "Oh no."

"Clarissa?" Mercy called out from the other side of the door. Clarissa squeaked and flailed about, trying to reach either her nightshirt or the one she was planning on putting on, but both of them were out of reach. And to Clarissa's horror, the latch on the door began to move.

"Time to get you fitted for a pair of clingy boyfriends," Mercy said as the door swung open, and a thick black boot stepped over the short lip of the doorframe. Mercy stepped inside, somehow with her hat still set comfortably on her head, and several pairs of boots in her hands. She only saw Clarissa once she was inside, and immediately turned to the door, saying, "Best you stay outside, Captain."

Clarissa squealed, and reached again for a shirt, but failed to grab it. She cursed, and scowled at Mercy, who had a fist resting on her hip and a very amused smirk on her face. "Just hanging out, Clarissa?"

"Help? Please?" Clarissa asked.

"She tried for get changed without anchoring herself?" The captain asked loudly from outside in the hall.

"She did, cap," Mercy called back, unnecessarily loudly. "Looks like she's about half a foot away from being able to touch a wall. Likely will stay that way past breakfast."

"I'm a bit hazy about disreputable sailor code for someone stuck in free-float. Do we help them?" The captain asked. Clarissa suspected the question was redundant.

"We do not. In fact, we're supposed to summon the crew to come point and laugh," Mercy said. "Teachable moment, and all that."

"Ah. Pity you already have orders to find her boots that fit. And we reach the Whirlwind in an hour," the captain replied, to Clarissa's relief.

"True. Sounds like her lucky day," Mercy said.

"Perhaps," the captain reflected. "Though, should I be telling Yannick there's a damsel in distress? Seems like the sort of thing a teenaged boy deserves to be told."

"More like a damsel in a state of undress, captain."

"That might make him run faster. Undressed damsel in distress? A chance to be chivalrous might be good for him," the captain reflected, trying to sound philosophical. Which was difficult when he was stifling laugher at the end of every other word. "Suspect he's sweet on her. Don't think he's spent that long on top deck in the last half-year put together. Robbing him of a chance like this, to prove his character and all, it'd be criminal."

"It would, captain. It would," Mercy agreed. She set the boots on the floor, and Clarissa watched them with gut-wrenching envy as they stuck in place.

"Please, please just get me down!" Clarissa exclaimed, near to tears, or hysterical laughter.

"Reckon we ought to do as she asks," Captain Locklear relented. "Though we make sure she's in the room when we tell Yannick. Going to make sure Tonya's awake and alert, doubt any of us want me piloting us through the whirlwind."

"Now now, you ain't that bad, cap," Mercy replied.

"True. Sky take us all if we give Tinker the helm. Never doing that again," the captain said. His response was followed by strange sounding footsteps, which Clarissa suspected was the sound these strange boots made.

"Anyway, let's get you down and see if any of these boots fit," Mercy said, and she extended her hand until Clarissa could grab it. Together, they spun her around, and settled her back on the bed.

Clarissa grasped one of the straps and clung to it as Mercy took a quick look at her feet. She frowned, hummed thoughtfully, then reached over and pulled one of the pairs off the floor.

"So, these are clingy boyfriends," Mercy said as she set a pair beside Clarissa. "Boots with magnets set in the soles. Afraid you're going to be wearing these for the rest of the trip. We're almost a day past Volante, and gravity's going to be a bit spotty until we reach Idlewind. Now stick your feet in these and tell me how well they fit."

"Right," Clarissa said. She put her foot in tentatively, and found it slid comfortably all way in. The boots were surprisingly tall, almost to the knee, and when she kicked her toes up, found they clung to the ground quite firmly. She slid the other in happily, stood up, and whooped in delight when she stayed on the ground.

Mercy crouched down in front of Clarissa, still keeping both feet firmly on the ground, and checked the boots carefully. She pushed on Clarissa's feet, squeezed the ankles, put her fingers inside the tops, and pushed down on the toes. She smiled happily when she finished and stepped back. "First try. Haven't forgotten everything from those days."

Mercy's happy expression faded, and she scowled for a moment at something Clarissa didn't understand. But a moment later, Mercy stepped over to the desk and lifted the cable harness Clarissa had been using. "Make sure you wear this as well. Just in case. Tonya's a superb pilot, but she's a bit too fond of showing off."

"Where am I posted today?" Clarissa asked.

"With me. General ship duties, mostly making sure things like the sails, the propellers, and other equipment works. It's nine-tenths sitting around and waiting for something to go wrong," Mercy said,

"What's the other tenth?"

"No no no, I'm too young and pretty to die," Mercy said. She stood up, and pointed to Clarissa's boots. "When you're getting dressed, leave one foot in the boot. That way you don't get stuck in the middle of the room for half the day. And if it happens again, I will call Yannick."

Clarissa only wondered what shade of pink she managed to reach as she blushed.

******

Her breakfast was an adventure, her first in the microgravity well beyond the isles. Not that the taste was worthy of her excitement; a small serving of baked beans kept in a small beeswax pouch. She had been given a small pouch for water, since cups no longer functioned the way they were supposed to.

But she managed to eat and drink without making a mess that could float around for a couple of days, which Mercy seemed pleased by as she inspected Clarissa's safety equipment.

The inspection seemed rather prudent to Clarissa, since the entire ship rumbled like they were riding through a thunderstorm.

"There's always the possibility we'll need to go top deck. If that happens, you just stay inside. The whirlwind can take the Child the length of Olencia in a single hour, and that ain't wind you're ready for," Mercy said. "But other than that, just make sure you shut every door you have to open."

"Okay," Clarissa agreed. "Where are we going first?"

"Winch room. Bit of a tight squeeze, so you should appreciate the lack of gravity," Mercy explained as she lead Clarissa up the stairs leading to the deck. But halfway up the stairwell, Mercy stopped and pulled open a small door, revealing a crawl space.

And to Clarissa's shock, Mercy took a step up and started waking up the wall. Up, as if it were exactly the same as the ground. She took three steps and pushed herself feet first into the crawlspace. Mercy stopped herself with her arms, just as her head was about to disappear, and looked back at Clarissa. "No gravity, and your boyfriends ain't particular about what surface they're on."

"Right," Clarissa said, and she lifted one foot onto the wall. When she kicked off with her other foot, she nearly vomited when her sense of the world rotated violently, but the next step mostly dispelled the nausea. By her third step, stopping just in front of the crawlspace, she was enjoying herself.

She crouched down and grabbed onto small handles on the inside of the doorway, and pulled herself after Mercy.

The small space was well lit, and dominated by a chain nearly as thick as she was. Long links wound round a space currently out of sight, terminating against some kind of metal beam now resting against a rectangular hole in the side of the ship. Despite the rubber around the seal, and the taunt chain holding the beam in place, cold wind whistled through the gap in a strange, haunting melody.

Mercy was at a small panel near the chain, examining the dials. "Pressure's good, nothing's tripped in the last few hours, and there's no rust on any of the links I can see," Mercy said to Clarissa, pointing to the dials as if they would mean anything to her.

Clarissa frowned and looked over at Mercy. "Am I really here to just keep you company?"

"No," Mercy admitted. Clarissa suddenly became aware that the woman was now between her and the exit. "Colour me curious, but I was wondering if you know what's in that black box?"

Clarissa's thoughts stopped, her throat felt like it was trying to squeeze itself shut, and she could feel her own hands shake. "I..." she stammered, unable to form a response.

"Don't misunderstand me, I ain't asking because I want to know," Mercy replied, but her hand was casually brushing against the handle of her pistol. "But it's a box without a lid, like whatever's inside it ain't meant to come back out. And every time it's aboard the captain treats the ship like a newborn babe, and we're careful to avoid mentioning to anyone out in the endless blue that we do this work."

"I, I don't know what's in that box," Clarissa said slowly, trying to swallow back the fear creeping up from her stomach. In some ways, Mercy was the most frightening person on the ship, and it had nothing to do with the scar on her face. "It's not something they teach a lot of people, even in the Monastery."

"So what do you know about that black box?" Mercy asked.

"I, nothing. I don't know anything about it."

"I don't like being lied to," Mercy said slowly, the threat evident in her voice.

"I, I'm not lying. Mercy, it's me," Clarissa implored.

"Monastery prides honesty, and lying is a skill you need a bit of practice to get any good at, girl," Mercy said, and all the kindness in her voice had vanished. Her eyes were cold and angry, and Clarissa was disturbing aware that the ship's first officer was armed. "Now, the box, what do you know about it?"

And Clarissa found the answer slipping from her lips without fully being aware of it. "I know the box houses an electrically powered magnet."

"Magnet? Like the boots?" Mercy tapped her boot with her fingers.

"Yes, but powered by electricity. Those magnets are used to contain whatever's inside," Clarissa admitted, and she felt both relieved and disgusted by having said anything at all.

"But the Child needs that entire engine to generate electricity. How does that box power magnets to hold something captive?" Mercy asked,

"I..." Clarissa began to say, but something about Mercy's mannerism stalled her in mid-speech. Her hands now rested in her pockets, the hat was tilted back a little more, and the rueful grin had returned to her face.

"You caved pretty quick, kid," Mercy said, and she gestured towards the exit. "Thing I've always liked least about the Monastery, you have these secrets that the captain treats like they could break the world, like they might have done it once before, but they don't teach your people to be circumspect."

"This was a test?" Clarissa asked, anger rising as the dissipating fear gave it room.

"And a lesson, one I'm hoping you'll take to heart. You revealed a lot about things you probably shouldn't have."

"But you threatened me!"

"With a casual conversation?"

"You were playing with your pistol."

"I was. And the moment you got the fear of violence stuck in your spine you gave up faster than that Corsair did after we put a paint round into her captain's cabin," Mercy said as she took her hands out of her pockets, and held up one hand. She put one finger up into the air as she continued. "You told me the box exists, that it has ways of generating or storing electricity that neither the academies of Volante or the Imperial Court of Olencia know enough about to know they don't know it. And you told me that whatever's in the box needs magnets to contain it. If I took all that to Yannick, how long do you think it would take him to piece it together?"

"No, please don't tell Yannick. Very few people in the monastery know, and for good reason," Clarissa said.

"Even that is more information than you want to reveal," Mercy said, and Clarissa's heart sank.

"I ain't telling you this to be cruel. But your monastery don't take this as seriously as the perils suggest they should, and you have groups out there who wonder what the Monastery is hiding. There are people out in the skies as smart as Yannick, never assume otherwise," Mercy finished. She turned around and pushed off, somehow lifting her feet just enough that she floated out through the hatch. Clarissa crawled after her, walking on the wall to follow.

"I didn't tell you anything you didn't know already, did I?" Clarissa asked accusingly. Her anger was there, simmering in the back of her mind, but shame kept it from boiling over.

"Not a thing. But have this conversation with an officer from Volante's naval intelligence branch, or the Calmoori inquisitors? Well, your best protection is their ignorance."

"I see."

"Best you know what could be waiting for you out there, and hopefully it's a lesson you pass on," Mercy said, and she stopped to give Clarissa a playful punch in the shoulder. "Relax, Clarissa. It's not like I did that to warn you away from Yannick. Pretty sure he's going to start writing you bad poetry soon, if he hasn't already."

Clarissa felt her face flush, and was torn between shying away and hitting Mercy back. She scowled instead, and said, "Ain't it the boy you're supposed to warm away?"

"Not really, no. Doubly no, in Yannick's case. Between you and he, you're the worldly one," Mercy said.

This time Clarissa did blush and turn away. But whatever she might have said was interrupted a blur of black and red, as the Captain flew down the hall. Literally flew, since his feet weren't touching the ground as he propelled himself forward with the handrails.

"Captain!" Mercy called out, launching herself into the air to follow.

"Cargo hold," the captain shouted without looking back. "Could use some help. Something's come loose."

"Fall forever," Mercy swore. There was so much fear in her voice, that Clarissa wondered if she had lied about not knowing what was inside.

That possibly both made Clarissa angry, and impressed her.