In daylight, the city looked smaller as they left the outer ring. Less like a world wonder and more like what it truly was, a sprawling mess of tents, cloth banners, and temporary structures over open land. It was funny how perspectives change over such a short time.

  Joren tried not to look too long at any of the clowns.

  Carnival City was already beginning to blur behind them.

  Willow walked near the front with a stretched gait, both hands laced behind her head as she looked at the clouds. She looked perfectly refreshed, which only deepened Joren’s suspicion that she had never once struggled to get a full night's rest in her life.

  “Well,” she said, glancing back toward the carnival behind them, “that was memorable.”

  Gus, carrying his pack over one shoulder, gave her a flat look. “That is a very generous word for what happened to Joren.”

  “It had highs and lows,” Willow said.

  “You won a toy and Joren was almost digested by a clown. We’re defining ‘highs and lows’ very differently.”

  Willow grinned. “I won two stuffed animals, not toys.”

  She lifted the smaller of the two animals by one ear. This one had six legs, a crooked beak, and one eye a little higher than the other. It was at least well loved considering it's design.

  Bart, walking beside Rico, pointed at it. “That lil' bugger has one ugly mug."

  “That’s why I like it,” Willow said.

  Rico squinted at the creature as they walked. “I’m fairly certain that thing was not designed by anyone with eyes.”

  Willow swung it by the ear. “That’s rude. He has a lot of personality.”

  “That looks like the result of a sewing machine accident,” Bart said.

  Gus snorted. “Carnival prize or not, that thing might actually be cursed. Better be careful.”

  Willow gasped dramatically and clutched it protectively.

  “Don’t listen to them, Anansi,” she whispered to the stuffed animal. “They’re just jealous of your beauty.”

  Joren smiled faintly as the group drifted down the road. "Beauty isn't the term I would use."

  Willow gasped and shot him a look over her shoulder. “Joren!"

  Gus watched it for a moment.

  “If that thing starts talking in the middle of the night, I’m kicking both of you out.”

  “It doesn’t talk,” Willow said.

  “Good,” Gus replied.

  A light breeze rolled across the open terrain, blowing the tall grass along the edges of the road in soft waves. The midday air felt cleaner out here, carrying the scent of soil instead of fried sweets and smoke.

  “So,” Rico asked, glancing between Bart and Joren, “how big do you think the islands actually are?”

  "Tsunami said they were huge, so I'd think its pretty big." Joren replied.

  “Bigger than a town?” Gus asked.

  “Much bigger,” Bart replied.

  Rico nodded eagerly. “Exactly what I was thinking. I've only heard stories of the place, but I didn't think it was real."

  “Well apparently it is,” Willow said, swinging Anansi around again.

  The stuffed creature’s arm looked like it might detach from the body at this rate.

  Gus eyed it. “You’re going to fling that thing into someone’s face if you keep doing that.”

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “He likes the wind,” Willow said unapologetically. "Leave him alone."

  “If those islands are big enough for cities,” he said, “the amount of engineering behind them must be insane.”

  Bart scratched his beard. “What if they float because of the clouds?"

  "Oooh, that's a good point." Rico nodded.

  Gus added. "Maybe the islands are sitting on giant balloons.”

  "Nah," Rico responded. "It has to be the clouds."

  "Maybe the islands are tied to the clouds with ropes.” Willow said.

  Bart spoke up again. “What if the islands are actually upside-down mountains?”

  Everyone looked at him.

  “You mean like the bottom broke off and they just floated up to the sky?” Joren asked.

  “Exactly.”

  Willow laughed and tossed Anansi lightly into the air before catching it again.

  “Well something has to hold them up,” she said. “Cities don’t just drift around the sky.”

  “They might,” Bart replied calmly.

  “Tsunami said they pass overhead every so often,” Joren said. “So the islands must move in a set path.”

  Rico nodded “That’s what fascinates me. If the islands travel on a route, then someone must be controlling that movement, right?”

  “Or they move on their own,” Willow suggested.

  "That could be," Joren considered. "They have been around for centuries."

  Willow glanced up at the open sky. “So Clousand is basically a traveling, ancient city.”

  “That’s what it sounds like,” Joren said.

  Gus scratched the back of his neck. “I still don’t understand how an entire landmass floats.”

  Rico nodded slowly. “Some things in this world are just too mysterious to explain.”

  "How do you think people got back and forth before the airships?" Gus asked.

  Bart thought about it for a moment as they continued down the road.

  “Rope ladders,” he said.

  Willow moved her head in consideration. It was plausible depending on how big or high up the islands were.

  Willow grinned. “Imagine missing the ladder day.”

  Rico chuckled. “I doubt they were hauling entire trade routes up ropes.”

  Gus tapped his fist to his palm. “Gliders.”

  “Gliders?” Joren asked.

  Bart nodded. “Jump off the island and glide down.”

  “That only works one direction,” Joren pointed out.

  “True.”

  Rico snapped his fingers. “Hot air balloons.”

  Willow tilted her head. “Who do you think created hot air balloons?"

  "Probably someone who lived on the islands when they had gliders." Gus said confidently.

  "No way. They wouldn't have the knowledge to do that." Rico snapped back.

  "How so? They aren't savages." Willow retorted.

  "Well, they could be. Just imagine, an island full of primitive humans." Gus said.

  "Well they aren't now, they have air ships, don't they?" Joren added. “Besides, If people were using gliders, the islands might not be that high up.”

  “That would make me feel a lot better,” Gus said.

  Rico nodded. “If the islands are low enough for gliders,” he said thoughtfully, “then they must look enormous from below.”

  Willow lifted Anansi toward the sun. “Well, if they are that big, they’ll eventually block the sun, wouldn’t they?”

  The wind stopped blowing as they talked.

  The grass along the road stopped swaying.

  None of them noticed that the animals no longer chirped or chattered.

  “…and once someone got up there,” Rico went on, “word would spread fast that a strange looking man appeared. Trade, exploration, settlements would come after the...”

  Not an insect buzzed.

  Even their own footsteps hushed themselves, and still they did not notice that only their voices cut through the silence.

  A figure crested the left bend of the road, silhouette against the treeline.

  He walked around the bend at an ordinary pace, metal boots pressing into the packed dirt road. Darkened armor covered him from head to toe, the metal dull and scarred from long use. Deep gouges ran across the breastplate and shoulders, attempts made to fix it but unable to be hidden.

  Straps of leather crossed the arms, pouches attached. Small rings of iron hung from his belt beside a short length of chain that clinked softly as he moved.

  A long sword rested across his back. The blade was ancient looking, longer than a typical longsword but not quite the monstrous size of a greatsword. The hilt was wrapped in dirty leather that had been replaced more than once.

  The helmet was made of that same dark metal, scuffed and unadorned, molded close to the shape of the head for its aerodynamics. It did not extend outward like an armet helm, nor did it look bulky like a crusader helmet. The surface was plain and imposing, curving down from the crown into a seamless faceplate that showed nothing of the person beneath.

  There was no nose ridge, no mouth hole, and no vents. Only two eye holes had been cut into the metal, allowing for brief glimpses of the wearer's eye color.

  Willow stepped a little to the side of the road as the traveler approached, still carrying on with their absurd conversation about what Clousand might be like.

  “…and if the whole island moves,” Rico was saying, “Then it's basically a boat, right?"

  “That sounds wrong, even if you make sense,” Gus replied.

  Willow gave a friendly nod as he passed.

  “Morning.”

  The man said nothing.

  He walked by her without an ounce of acknowledgement.

  When he reached Joren, however, the armored figure turned his head. Something demanded his attention

  The man's eyes in the helmet aligned with Joren’s eyes, a sinister look about them.

  For a brief moment they looked at one another, then the man faced his head forward and continued down the road.

  A few moments later the wind returned, grass along the roadside swayed in the breeze, and their footsteps once again made their presence known to the world. They were none the wiser that sound was even gone in the first place.

  “So it's a floating boat city!” Bart exclaimed.

  Gus shook his head in disappointment.

  Rico raised a finger. “Technically I said it moves on a route, which is very boat-like.”

  Willow laughed. “Well I suppose it does check all the boxes.”

  “We will have to see if they have a museum or something. Just the other day it was only a fairytale to me.” Joren said.

  “They're primitive, remember? There is no way they have a museum.” Gus chimed in.

  This was going to be quite the adventure.