Stormforged: A Steamborn Novel

Book 8: Steamborn Series

by Eric Asher

Genres: Dystopian; Steampunk; YA Dystopian; YA Steampunk

Synopsis

An assassin slain. A fleet prepared. A battle looms.

Jacob fears their time is running out. The full focus of Belldorn and Bollwerk’s tinkers is centered on the construction of the carriers. While Jacob is concentrating on overseeing the work, he worries for Alice who faces a dire challenge of her own. They need to launch an attack on Ballern, but their forces cannot cross the Crystal Sea without the new warships.

To deploy their ground forces they must secure a base, requiring a strengthened alliance with the forest city of Karn. Surrounded by Acidwings and Cannon Bugs, Alice and Furi embark on a journey fraught with danger in hopes of solidifying the Stormborn alliance. Steamborn and Skyborn must stand together in the looming battle … or both will fall.

Even as they prepare for war, an enemy takes advantage of their distracted attention and strikes Midstream. But they are not the only forces moving in the shadows. Owen and the fisherfolk are closing in, intent on giving Mordair, now Steward of Ballern, a farewell he’ll never forget.

 

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Release date: April 30, 2024

Print pages: 328

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

Jacob stood in the secondary pilot house above the deck of the carrier. Excitement warred with dread as workers scattered across the metal expanse like so many mites. They swept debris as they went, tying down anything that might cause injury should it fall from the platform.

Four Titan Mechs surrounded the massive ship, ready to redirect the monstrosity if things went bad. And Jacob knew if things went bad, it could cost them far more than the labor and materials of the carrier. He clenched his fists as the first pontoon rose in the west, knuckles whitening as the consequences of failure loomed overhead.

Frederick leaned forward over the control panel. Levers and switches stood out from the rough metal plating like the spines of a Stone Dog. The older tinker nodded to himself, brushing gray hair back behind his ear before making small adjustments to the ballast valves.

A distant hiss rumbled below them, and Frederick tapped the gauges. He cast Jacob a sideways glance and smiled. “It’ll fly, son, but it’s an ugly bastard.”

“Let’s see if it gets off the ground before we say that,” Jacob muttered. It wasn’t the prettiest ship he’d ever seen, that was certain. But Jacob was proud of what they’d built in a matter of weeks. Where Ballern’s carrier had been graced by enormous hangers, Belldorn’s had little more than reinforced tents to offer shelter. But those tents had been gifted to them from Canopy, built of the same materials that held a city in the trees. Cables spun from the strongest spider silks, woven so tight as to be their own sort of armor.

The bolt cannons had come from Ancora on the first supply ship. Ambrose thought they’d be needed more in Belldorn now that Ancora’s wall was done, and so the same cannons that had helped protect Jacob’s home now drove bolts into the steel of a carrier.

Bollwerk provided what the crews couldn’t salvage from the ruins of Belldorn and Ballern’s temporary docks.

Ballern. Alice was there, waiting with the Skyborn. The Stormborn. Some of Bollwerk’s citizens thought this wasn’t their fight because it was across the Crystal Sea. It had fractured their city, but Archibald understood. Archibald risked his own power base to set these carriers in motion, and that was something Jacob hadn’t thought the Speaker would do. Alice believed it was a calculated gamble. A way to gather even more power after the war.

Maybe it was. But Jacob was certain they couldn’t defeat Mordair without him.

A Titan Mech on each side raised its left arm. All thoughts of their allies fled Jacob’s mind. This was what they’d been working toward, day and night, with far too little sleep.

The transmitter crackled to life, and Smith’s voice filled the cabin. “Ballast clear on all sides. Cargo is locked. On your signal.”

Jacob leaned toward the transmitter. “Carrier One lifting off.”

“Together,” Frederick said. He didn’t count down, only waited for Jacob to grab the second of the largest levers on the control panel.

The metal felt cold beneath Jacob’s sweaty palm. He eased it forward, impressed by the

smooth path Frederick had built into the system in such short time. There was no roughness to the switch or its gears, but the roar they summoned jarred Jacob.

The boilers came to life in full, and in each quadrant, a dull orange glow lit beneath the deck. Jacob cringed at the sight, knowing they’d need to address the heat rising from those areas. That concern faded as the floor shifted under their feet, and the entire expanse of the carrier lifted into the air.

It was only a short distance at first, and there wasn’t much cargo left to speak of, but it was a test that needed to happen. An unbalanced load that would help them determine how to configure a whole fleet across the carriers.

The sole Titan Mech remaining on deck sat on the opposite side, daring the carrier to rise higher. But its movement couldn’t have been more level, as if the gargantuan machine was no more than a single dockhand.

A minute passed, and the carrier rose above the highest roofs of Belldorn, leaving those around the docks far below.

Frederick turned to Jacob. “It’ll fly.”

Jacob breathed out, releasing something between a sigh and a laugh.

“Commence landing sequence,” Smith said across the transmitter. “Get anchored and we will begin the load tests.”

Frederick flipped a dozen switches before clicking the transmitter. “Ballonets inflating. Descent in five minutes.”

“This is what I never understood about airships,” Jacob said. “There are gas chambers inside the gas chambers?”

“More or less, that is correct. We installed ballonets throughout the ballast chambers as well. It allows us to compensate if some are damaged. Inflated, ballonets displace the lifting gas of the chamber, and without that volume, the ship descends.”

“But the gas itself is never vented?”

“Never is a strong word, Jacob. It isn’t supposed to be vented, but valves degrade over time. Nothing we should need to worry about until the carriers are much older.”

The carrier stopped

hovering and started a slow descent back to the ground.

“Give me gears and steel and bronze,” Jacob muttered. “Just the thought of trying to balance those gas chambers makes me nervous.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. One could argue it is far less dangerous than working on a Titan Mech.”

“But Titan Mechs don’t fall out of the sky when you get it wrong.” He shivered at the idea of it.

Frederick grinned at Jacob. “A fair point.”

Smith’s voice crackled as he spoke. “Stern is two degrees lower than the bow. Still within tolerances. Prepare for docking.”

Docking felt like an optimistic word to Jacob. There wasn’t a dock on the entire continent where a carrier could settle in. It would simply land where it could fit, and that was that. And that’s exactly what it did, touching down on the earth with a crash of metal against stone and dirt. But the vibrations that ran along the deck and up through the pilot house were minimal. None of the plates separated. No ballast split, and every gas chamber remained inflated.

Jacob looked up at Frederick. “It worked?” He didn’t mean for it to be a question, but with all the worries he’d had, it felt like something should have gone wrong. “It worked.”

“Quite well!” Frederick squeezed Jacob’s shoulder and gave it a short shake.

The Titan Mechs around the perimeter moved, anchoring the carrier before the workers returned to the deck. A small group of people walked in unison, a single figure surrounded by four guards. Jacob grabbed a pair of binoculars from the side of the control panel.

“Lady Katherine’s on deck.”

“Best not to keep the lady waiting.” Frederick pulled the switches to cut off the boilers, and two pillars of smoke rose from the edges of the carrier. They hurried out of the pilot house and down the stairs that would take them to the deck.

 

***

 

Smith was already at Kat’s side by the time Jacob and Frederick made it to the carrier’s center. It was easy to forget just how long the deck was until you had to traverse it on foot.

“And you were able to launch with only two boilers?” Lady Katherine asked as Jacob and Frederick joined Smith.

“Yes. Slowed the pumps down a bit, but it was good enough. We can lose four boilers and still stay in the air.”

Lady Katherine turned her attention to Frederick. “Perhaps your idea of repurposing the boilers from the old factory was not so misguided.”

Frederick gave a small bow. “Thank you, My Lady. We’d done much the same in Bollwerk for the warships when they needed a critical repair, and I thought it would work for the carrier, as well.”

Lady Katherine looked back toward the main pilot house of the sprawling ship. “Show me a carrier in the sky with a Porcupine on board and you’ll truly impress me.”

“We plan to load test later today,” Smith said. “Tomorrow at the latest. They’re preparing the ramps for crawlers and Titan Mechs.” He glanced at Jacob before standing a little straighter. “Do we have your permission to load a Porcupine?”

Lady Katherine blinked at that. “Are you … serious, Smith?”

“Damn right, he is.”

Jacob startled at Mary’s voice right by his ear. He squinted and stared at the shadowed helmet of a Royal Guard. “Mary?” He was about to ask more, but the memory of the assassins in the throne room answered any question he could have asked. Mary was one of Kat’s closest friends, and who better to vet your guards than a paranoid pirate? It also explained the utter lack of surprise on Kat’s face.

Jacob grinned at Mary with the unspoken thought.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

Mary turned back to Smith. “Once this thing is load tested, we’re ready to strike out at Ballern?”

“Mary,” Lady Katherine said, a warning tone in that name.

“It’s time you told them, Kat.” Mary gestured to the expansive deck. “This is as alone as any of us are going to be if you want to keep it under wraps. Though I think the fact you’re building a carrier makes it rather obvious.”

“Fine, Mary. Fine.” Kat rubbed her neck and studied the group. “If we can’t breach the walls of Ballern, any response we offer will be a worthless gesture. An unnecessary loss of life.”

“Are you saying we aren’t going?” Jacob couldn’t hide the anxiousness in his question.

“With Bollwerk’s warship and two carriers, we can cross the sea in force, Jacob. Then the bolstering of our forces will fall to Furi and Alice’s efforts with the Skyborn.” Kat clenched a fist. “The city is screaming for a response

 to the invasion that stole so many lives and homes in Belldorn. And a response they will have.”

A weight lifted from Jacob’s mind. The thought that Kat might try to back out of an attack on Ballern had been worrying him. He knew she didn’t want a war, but Mordair had miscalculated. Smith believed because of the assassination attempt, Kat would be more committed to the idea than ever. It looked like he might have been right.

“I spoke to Archibald about the fractures forming in Bollwerk. He sent Lady Grey to engage with the factions, but I do not know if even she has the sway to quell the masses. It is a nightmare I wanted to avoid in Belldorn. It is why I opened more shelters than were needed. Why I am providing food and care at no cost to those who need it. Dissent has quieted on the streets, but the call to arms has not. So we are in agreement. The reconstruction will be swift, but justice more so.”

“Bollwerk will heal in time,” Frederick said. “We have been through worse than the unrest we have now.”

“Perhaps if Archibald had spent more time healing his own city than rebuilding Ancora, it could have been avoided.”

Jacob stood up a little straighter. “And leave them all to die?”

“There are hard choices, Jacob.” Kat looked away for a moment. “There are always hard choices. You cannot save everyone.”

“I can try.” There was a terrible heat in his words. An anger he hadn’t meant to let slip. But it was raw, and it was real, and it was there.

CHAPTER TWO

Cage rubbed his chin and studied Owen. “You’re talking about taking on Mordair in a foreign city. You don’t know the alleys and byways, much less the people.”

“We know them well enough, and we only need one ocean liner.” Owen gestured out to Fel’s docks, far below them. “Hoist our fishing vessels up like lifeboats. Once we’re past the worst of the Crystal Sea, we can deploy our own boats and slip into Ballern’s docks with little fanfare. I don’t need to know the city to sabotage his ocean liners, Cage.”

“You risk much. What if no one is left in Fel who can get one of those ocean liners running? What about Vaughn and Hefina? You don’t want to leave them alone in Ancora if you don’t come home.”

“If we fail, they won’t have a home anywhere.” Owen’s lip curled. “Mordair will come for Ancora, Cage. You know that as well as I do. In the end, either he dies, or the rest of us do.”

Cage sighed. “I wish I could say I didn’t agree with you about that.” He squeezed Owen’s shoulder before stepping away, heading for Nora’s clipper. He paused before the gangplank. “The fisherfolk are with you, Owen. Your speech saw to that. Rally them at The Crooked Blade. Others will come. Mordair made more capable enemies here than he likely knows.”

“Look after Ancora while I’m gone, will you?” Owen reached out and squeezed his cousin’s shoulder.

Cage blew out a breath and smiled at him. “I’ll do what I can. Vaughn and Hefina are safe behind those walls, Owen. Worry about yourself out there. Until the seas bring us together once more.”

“Peace, cousin.”

Cage didn’t respond to Owen’s words. Perhaps peace would one day find them again. But for a time, the world would be anything but peaceful.

***

Without Owen on board to talk to, Cage opened up Nora’s clipper in earnest. The tiny airship cut through the air like a ballista bolt, and he had to admit he enjoyed the clipper far more than he would have expected. It felt cramped with only enough seating for two, but its maneuverability was stunning.

The North Woods passed below in short hours before he guided the clipper between the peaks of the Ridge Mountains. Dauschen’s damaged skyline graced the horizon, slowly vanishing behind the taller peaks, staying in sight for nearly an hour. The flight grew far less relaxed in the more violent winds of the passes before finally relenting as Cage rocketed out over the Black Sea.

He followed the railroad for a time, catching glimpses of smoke billowing out from the trains before Ancora came into view. He slowed the clipper’s thrusters, nearly overshooting the city through inertia alone. Cage guided the clipper into Ancora’s new docks, letting the ship drift into the docking clamps where the springs released and locked the ship into place.

Cage hopped out and tossed a coin to the dockhand, who hurried over to engage the remaining clamps. “Fuel her up for Nora, would you?”

“Of course, sir. Right away.”

“Do you know where I can find her by chance?”

“Nora? At the stables, I assume. I served under her during the reconstruction of the wall. She’s always in the stables.”

Cage inclined his head and struck out to the north. He studied the completed walls around the Lowlands as he went. Only one of the cranes worked along the top edge that afternoon, moving backward as it positioned plates of inverted spikes and spears to crown the wall. It would offer protection from invaders and soldiers alike. Something that should have been built for the Lowlands long ago.

Dauschen could have benefited from much the same, but that was a line of thought with no end. One did not always know what would help prevent a disaster

in a city until the moment had long passed.

Cage turned his attention back to the road ahead. Once, the city walls had towered without peer. Now, the Lowland walls threatened to overshadow them, and Cage didn’t stop the small smile that crossed his lips as he entered the Highlands, mulling over that change.

The courtyard was nearly empty, where just two weeks before it had teemed with refugees. The new apartments had drawn a good deal of people back to the Lowlands, and Cage wondered how much the dynamic would shift between the two areas of Ancora now. How much it already had shifted.

He headed northwest, keeping close to the wall until the entrance to the stables came into view. It was an odd thing, seeing them so bare. Only a handful of mounts remained—two Jumpers and some older beasts that bore scars from carrying heavy armor.

Cage made his way to the end, where a small cluster of offices were embedded into the wall itself. The musty scent of Sweet-Flies and old hay didn’t lessen as he stepped into the hallway, finding Nora in the first office, where she studied a teetering pile of maps.

He knocked on the doorframe to get her attention before stepping inside.

Nora glanced up, a familiar look of concentration furrowing her brow. A look Cage had seen many times in Dauschen. “Is she still in one piece?”

“Of course.” Cage smiled and crossed his arms. “The dockhands are refueling her too, so she’ll be ready for you.”

“Good, that’s good. Owen stayed in Fel?”

He nodded.

“I wondered if he would. He truly means to go to Ballern?”

“I don’t think anyone could change his mind at this point.” Cage glanced at the door. “The mounts. I noticed several of the stables were empty.”

“On their way to Canopy.” Nora pushed her chair back and rose. She’d looked like little more than skin and bones toward the end of her stint in Dauschen.

Now, whipcord muscles stood out on her arms, and the sleeves of her jerkin pulled tight against a powerful frame. “Cave sent their soldiers to defend Ancora. Only a half dozen Spider Knights remain in the city now. The others will train with Canopy to face Ballern, Cage. You know what Ancorans are capable of. They’ll end Mordair.”

Cage sighed. “Good. I think they can do the best there. We have enough beds for the Cave Guardians?”

“The new apartments have been completed, so there are enough at the inns for now. Though I believe some of them were more excited to find Branddur had opened a restaurant in the Lowlands than they were to have a bed to sleep on.”

A low chuckle escaped Cage’s lips. “There’s something about having a taste of home. That I can understand. Are there any more supply ships leaving for Canopy?”

“One tomorrow. Do you intend to join them?”

“No. I gave my word to too many that I would look after those who remain in Ancora.”

“Good. Then help me with these maps. We have scouts covering most of the walls, but there is a small drawback to the new Lowlands defenses. It created a handful of blind spots.”

Strategy was something familiar to Cage. Familiar to all of Bollwerk’s spies, if he was being honest. He walked to the other side of the table to see things from Nora’s perspective. Food could be a reminder of home, but keeping your friends and family protected was far more satisfying.

 

***

 

Owen recognized many of the faces who joined him at The Crooked Blade. Fisherfolk had turned out in numbers, but what surprised him was the number of others who wandered in. If many more arrived, they were going to have a hard time fitting inside the bar.

Fiona and Trevor spoke to a trio of city folk closer to the door. Trevor was easy to recognize by his reedy, towering frame and thinning hair, while Fiona stood out because she looked like she could split logs with her bare hands.

None of this was of concern to the barkeep, who poured beers and spirits as fast as the swarm of patrons could order them. Owen waited until the hour struck four and then stepped up on the short ladder the barkeep lent him.

“Thank you all for coming!” Owen’s voice had always carried, and when he made an effort to project it, there were few who could ignore him. “I asked you here so I could tell you my plans to strike back at Mordair. I never want our king to return to this place. And I believe if he is given enough time, solidifies his alliance with Ballern, and perhaps, more critically, with the Children of the Dark Fire, he will return.”

A few mutterings sounded in the bar, but most had turned their attention to Owen.

“I’m not here to tell you anyone must join this fight. But I won’t turn away volunteers. We need fisherfolk and dockhands who know their way around the ocean liners. If any of you are left from the crews who helped build them, we need you most of all.”

A few hands rose in the back of the bar, and a knot of dread unwound itself in Owen’s gut. Dread that Cage would have been right and no one could make the remaining ocean liners seaworthy.

“You are our key to this operation.” Owen nodded to Fiona and Trevor, who moved toward those who had raised their hands. Owen wasn’t taking chances. Not so close to bringing his plan to action. Fiona and Trevor’s movement left an opening in the room, clearing a line of sight that had been obscured.

There, in the corner, waited two dark cloaks. Owen had little doubt who they were. Two of the Children of the Dark Fire. Bold enough to wear cloaks inside the tavern? Or had they donned them after entering?

They held his gaze. Long enough Owen grew uncomfortable, so instead, he turned his attention back to the crowd at hand. But he wasn’t the only one who had noticed their presence. The barkeep appeared below, speaking just loud enough for Owen to hear.

“My boys have them cornered, Owen. They can’t draw a blade without consequence. Speak your piece.”

Owen nodded. “Three days. I want to sail into the ports at Ballern in three days’ time.”

“To be immediately sunk to the bottom of the sea?” one attendee shouted.

“No. I want to strap

our fishing vessels to the sides of the ocean liner in place of lifeboats. I want to cross the heart of the Crystal Sea, through the expanse, and drop anchor before arriving in our own boats. The smallest vessels of the fisherfolk will blend in. They will not expect us.”

“And what do you mean to do once we’re there?” Trevor called out.

Owen steeled himself. “I mean to fight.”

Another cloak fluttered. This one far too close. Far too … high.

“Be you blessed by the Dark Fire!”

A shout preceded the glint of metal in the shadow. The thrown cloak meant to hide the assassin behind it. The assassin who had come far too close to Owen, and had far underestimated the mood of the crowd.

He’d scarcely finished his shout before a heavy glass pitcher crashed into his face. The fool had given them warning with that battle cry, and the barkeep had taken care of the rest.

“Grab the other two,” the barkeep growled over the rising voices. “Take them to the prison and we can decide what to do with them from there.”

“Hang them from the walls!” one of the townsfolk shouted.

“No,” Owen’s voice thundered through the room as his hand smacked down on the bar. “Those days are done.”

Every eye in the bar turned toward Owen while the barkeep dragged the would-be assassin toward the door and his men.

“I never want to see another man, woman, or child hanging from those walls. Leave the gate buried in the earth. Open our city to the world beyond. We will all be the better for it, my friends. But it is a dream that cannot be if Mordair ever returns to our city. And it is our city.” Owen’s voice had fallen to a deadly whisper, a promise to fight, a promise of what might come to be. “Fight with me to keep it that way.”

There was no breaking of blades in that bar. Only the solemn nods of his fellow fisherfolk and townsfolk who had already decided to join the fight, long before they ever set foot inside The Crooked Blade. ...