the glass-paneled wall, and it opens for me, granting me access. Inside, there is every kind of airship imaginable and some that are, to me, unimaginable. It feels like a museum with shiny vehicles all polished to the hilt of perfection.
I wander to the airship nearest to me. Etharians call it a trift—it’s a kind of plane, but there are so many different types that “plane” isn’t an adequate description. I don’t know what this type of trift is called; it’s so different from the ones I’ve seen up close, which are only a handful, really. The outside of this one has scales, like dragon skin—muted brown with freckles of green and gold. I run my hand over the hull, and it feels like hardened leather. It’s shaped like a bat. I’d look inside it, but I don’t even know how to get into it.
In the center of the building, a group of hovercycles is arranged in a star pattern, with the rear of each cycle meeting in the center. I walk around them. They’re mean looking. Powerful. One appeals to me more than the others. “Unlace compartment,” I murmur next to it. The hood lifts up, exposing the interior. I slide onto the wide, ice-blue seat, placing my hands on the grips.
“You chose the Ensin hovercycle,” Kyon says from across the room, by the entrance to the hangar. I refuse to look at him.
“No, I didn’t. I chose the blue one.”
He comes closer to me, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous room. “They’re each made from the best manufacturers from the five houses of Ethar. This one is from a company I own in Alameeda.”
It’s hard not to be impressed, but I try anyway. “You design hoverbikes?”
“No. I pay people to design hoverbikes.”
“Oh. What’s this one called?”
“The Empress.” There’s something in his tone that makes me look up at him.
“I had no idea it was female,” I murmur.
“Would you like to pilot her?” he asks.
“You’ll teach me?” I ask breathlessly. I want so badly to learn to drive this. It can get me out of here—be the thing that helps me escape.
“Only if you don’t waste my time. You want to learn, correct?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” I ask rhetorically, running my hands reverently over the curves of the bike.
“No,” he frowns at me. “Especially not priestesses.”
“Why not?” I ask. They’d have to be out of their minds not to want to learn how to do this.
“It’s not seen as feminine,” he says. “It’s beneath them. And dangerous.”
“That’s silly,” I snort. “I want to learn how to pilot every single vehicle in your garage.”
“Hangar.” He moves past me to the hoverbike I just vacated. I go to Kyon. He sits on the hovercycle and lifts his arm, indicating that I should sit in front of him. I hesitate for a second. I should’ve picked a different kind of vehicle, but it’s too late, and I want to learn how to fly this one. I climb onto the seat in front of him.
Being this close to Kyon always scares me. I expect him to hurt me. It’s like being near an exotic animal, like a lion. Even if the lion has been somewhat domesticated, in the end, it’s a ferocious beast and it’ll probably wind up tearing your head off.
Kyon’s thighs nuzzle mine as he leans forward. He adjusts the deck where our feet rest. “You’re so little,” he says close to my ear. “I have to bring the pedals forward.” He does, and my feet finally fit into the slots on either side. He rests his hand on my left thigh. “This foot controls altitude. Press down on the pedal, the bike rises—ease up on the pedal, the bike will drop.”
“Got it,” I say, pressing down to feel the resistance. The hoverbike doesn’t move, because he hasn’t started the engine yet.
Kyon places his hand on my right thigh. “This foot controls your acceleration. Steering is on the handles. When you twist the left handle, you turn in that direction. Same goes for the right side.” His hands are heavy on me. The heat of them permeates my clothing.
“Is that it?” I ask.
“Squeeze the handsets hard and the hoverbike will brake.” His hands squeeze my thighs lightly.
“Like this?” I grip the handsets, leaning forward.
“Yes,” Kyon replies. He speaks to the hoverbike: “Lace compartment. Ignite engine.”
The hood of the hovercycle closes, securing us inside. The engine revs up; it vibrates beneath me just enough to let me know it’s on.