S. W. Raine

Launch day is fast approaching! So far, we have 17 pre-orders, which is amazing!

Yesterday, I announced another incentive gift over on Facebook and Instagram: Once we reached 15 pre-orders, not only would you receive an acrylic pin and signed sticker of the book cover (don’t forget to email me your proof of purchase at raine@swraine.com), but you would also get a sneak peek of the Spin-off involving the sky pirate Captain Keenan!

Now that we’ve surpassed 15, once we reach 20 pre-orders I will announce another incentive gift to help us get to my dream goal of 50 pre-orders!

Still on the fence? Would reading the first chapter help? You’ve come to the right place!

CHAPTER 1

The sound of metallic tinkering and sudden hisses of steam filled the repair shop. Sweat beaded across Ikarim’s forehead as he pulled back from the gigantic motor he’d been repairing. The heat inside the building was stuffy, even with the high bay door opened. He removed his oily, rust-stained fiddler cap and wiped his brow with the back of his bare forearm. Despite it being the cleanest part of his body, a streak of dirt still smeared above his green eyes.

He glanced at a tall and lanky young man who pulled on a thick rope with gloved hands and levied another hunk of machinery about the room as if it weighed practically nothing. Ikarim shook his head and chuckled to himself; even with his toned form, he would never have been able to make it look that effortless. He combed his fingers through his messy blond hair, secured the hat back on his head, and returned to his work.he sound of metallic tinkering and sudden hisses of steam filled the repair shop. Sweat beaded across Ikarim’s forehead as he pulled back from the gigantic motor he’d been repairing. The heat inside the building was stuffy, even with the high bay door opened. He removed his oily, rust-stained fiddler cap and wiped his brow with the back of his bare forearm. Despite it being the cleanest part of his body, a streak of dirt still smeared above his green eyes.

A small copper bell, attached to a string running to another area of the building, chimed. Ikarim looked up to the device, then turned to the lanky man, puzzled. “Isn’t it a bit early for a break?” he mused out loud.

The thin man shrugged, just as confused.

“What? I cannot allow my beloved employees another well-deserved breather?”

The voice was gruff. Both young men turned their attention to an elderly man who stood on the landing, one hand braced on the railing for steadiness, the other on the brass Derby handle of his cane. He had once been a tall man; his height now crumpled with age. A black top hat adorned with a pair of goggles sat atop his head. His finely-waxed white handlebar mustache was shaped in an uprising swirl, his goatee beard expertly trimmed. He turned to move closer to the staircase, and the monocle over his left eye shimmered iridescently. Despite his age, his visible blue eye was still fierce, revealing a youthful fire still alight in the old man’s soul.

“Doktor Gesselmeyer,” Ikarim greeted, setting his massive wrench down.

“Is everything well?” the lanky man asked as he moved toward the Scientist.

“Everything is well, Arteus. I simply came to inform you I will be running errands and will be late returning home. Could you lock up shop for me, my boy?”

“Yes, Vater. Of course.”

“And can I trust you to have this piece finished by tonight? The Kapitän will pay extra if it is in top shape by morning.”

“Of course, Vater. We have everything under control.”

“And will we have an infusion ready by morning as well?” asked the old man.

“I will make certain that Mags has it ready,” Ikarim piped in.

“Where is Mags?” Arteus asked, craning his long neck to catch a glimpse of the Alchemist.

“Ah.” Gesselmeyer pulled away from the railing and limped to the door with the aid of his cane. “The Dame Wiegraf is currently dealing with another suitor arranged by her father. Fetch her in ten minutes when your break is over.”

As the old man left the bay, Ikarim’s eyes met his friend’s, whose lips were twisted as he bit at the inside of his cheek. Ikarim attempted a reassuring smile; he knew the mechanic was worried about his father, who always seemed to return from his errands the worse for wear—as if a dozen years had passed each time.

Ikarim’s gaze dropped in defeat, and he shuffled over to a rusted bench in the corner of the bay. Two rolled up, woven cloths were neatly tucked beneath it. He grabbed a handkerchief from his overall pocket and wiped at the grime on his hands before he pulled them out, shooting a quick glance back to Arteus, who watched his father from the tiny bay window on the landing.

While the young man lingered at the door, Ikarim sat and partially unraveled the smaller cloth next to him. Inside were various tools: screwdrivers, wrenches, pins, needles, hammers, pliers. The bigger cloth contained a strange jumble of brass blades, which he carefully placed in his lap. Ikarim took a tiny screwdriver and tinkered with a few blades, careful not to scratch them in the process. He found himself smiling, taking joy in his craft.

“You have been working on that for ages,” Arteus stated. “Are you almost finished?”

The screwdriver almost slipped from his hand. “Yes,” he replied, his startled heart racing.

“Will you ever tell me what it is?”

“No,” Ikarim replied with an ever-so-faint smirk. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see soon enough.” Arteus watched in silence until Ikarim added, “Break is almost over. I should go get Mags.”

“I’ll get her,” Arteus chipped in eagerly.

Before Ikarim could retort, the mechanic had already vanished beyond the bay opening. He slowly shook his head in amusement and returned to dabbling with his work.

***

Arteus left the building and stepped into the midday sun. He dusted himself off to try and appear presentable, fiddling with the trank of his oversized utility gloves as he turned the corner of the building.

A medium-size airship was anchored to the nearby dock, its gleaming metallic panels almost blinding. It had thick wings beneath two large parallel propellers in the back, and a long sleek body to help it glide through the air. Fine flags rippled and tossed from its two large masts, broadcasting the Royal Guard’s official navy-blue-and-white emblem for all to see. In the distance, Magaliana, sporting Arteus’ tan overalls which were entirely too big for her petite frame, stood with her arms crossed over her chest while a soldier in red spoke with her.

Arteus paused, his heart sinking. When the young woman’s blonde dreadlocks swung back and forth from the motion of her refusal, he released a breath he didn’t know he held and sped up toward her.

“Mags!” he called out. The couple turned their attention to him. “Break time is over.”

The soldier’s lips moved—perhaps a plea to reconsider—as he turned his attention back to the Alchemist. Magaliana shook her head once more. The soldier reached out to grab her hand, but she took a step back, waved goodbye, and spun around so quickly her waist-length dreads whipped around her. An irritated frown painted her porcelain features as she marched away from the man, but when her eyes met the mechanic coming to her rescue, she gave a genuine smile. A warm flash waved over his face and he was sure his cheeks were pink by the time she reached him.

Arteus respectfully removed his cap and quickly attempted to flatten his disheveled chestnut-colored hair. “I… didn’t mean to interrupt…” he stuttered sheepishly.

“Of course you did,” the young woman replied as she looked up into his brown eyes. “Break time is over. Besides, we were finished talking,” she added, glaring over her shoulder. She continued toward the building, and Arteus gladly followed.

“Your father has resorted to soldiers now for potential suitors,” he observed, disheartened, slowing his pace to walk in step with her.

“Indeed. I can tell him one million times that I do not want to marry, but he insists. He says, ‘I cannot allow my only daughter to be taken care of by anything less than a real man.’” Magaliana’s posture straightened and her chin rose high and proud, imitating her father’s broad shoulders as she walked with her arms out. When she spoke his words, her tone lowered, forcibly manly. Arteus snickered in amusement, his cheeks still rosy.

“On a different subject,” he said after he

cleared his throat, an attempt to remove the ever-present lump that formed when he was near Magaliana, “Vater had to run errands and wanted to be certain that an infusion would be ready by morning.”

“Of course. I’ll get right on it,” she said as they entered through the front of the building.

***

The afternoon turned into evening, and the trio cleaned the shop after they finished their work. Ikarim made his way to the dock and boarded the small dirigible to begin his routine, while Arteus extinguished the lanterns and locked the doors behind them.

After ensuring the balloon had sufficient inflation, Ikarim turned the control wheel and glanced behind him to make sure that the tail obeyed. He then looked to Arteus, who was supposed to pull the anchor up but instead lingered on the side of the ship. As usual, his attention was glued to Magaliana, who had walked to the edge of the dock to look out over the horizon from their small floating island. Ikarim parted his lips to redirect the attention of his love-struck friend, but nothing escaped him as his gaze followed toward the Alchemist, then past her.

Clouds stretched for miles at the dock, akin to water from a lake. The whimsical puffs were fluffy with tints and hues of purples, pinks, and oranges. The scene before them was beautifully painted, and he wondered if it was just as breathtaking in the Lands Below as it was in the Upper Lands. Magaliana crouched down on the edge of the dock and swept her delicate hand into the clouds. A thin layer dissipated like smoke from her touch.

“Mags!” Ikarim finally called out.

Magaliana slowly stood and wrapped her arms around herself, turning to make her way back toward the dirigible. Arteus offered her a gloved hand to the hull, but she declined with a slight wave and climbed aboard herself. Once she was seated, he slid in after her and hoisted the anchor, but Ikarim didn’t depart. Instead, his gaze remained on Magaliana.

Her green eyes were back on the horizon, pensive. She had never been so unsettled after speaking with her suitors before. Something was wrong, but he didn’t want to disturb her thoughts, so he turned back to the control wheel. The dirigible pushed off with Ikarim at the helm, sailing mere inches above the sea of clouds.

It was Arteus who gently broke the silence. “What’s on your mind?”

Magaliana never shifted her gaze. “Petty Officer Hogarty said that the Carronade fired today.”

Ikarim’s eyes fell to a tiny mirror vibrating at his side. He tweaked it to see his friends in the back. He had overheard an extremely dangerous word: Carronade. “Where did it fire?”

“He said that it hit Portugal.”

“Ouch,” Arteus piped in. “Didn’t Prinz Francisco head down to the Lands Below on a mission a few days ago?”

“König Rodriguo won’t be happy…” Ikarim frowned. “Another pointless war for power.”

Magaliana wrapped her arms around her legs as she curled up in her seat, and Ikarim focused back on the horizon. The trio were silent for the remainder of the trip back to Gesselmeyer’s mansion, their somber thoughts preventing conversation.

Did you enjoy the first chapter? Do you want more? Sign up for my newsletter (in the sidebar!) and you’ll also get chapters 2 and 3!

One last thing!

Starting on September 8th, join me over on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter for my Countdown to The Techno Mage! I have a week of fun planned before release.

Excited for my debut release!

Raine