“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” she asked in a half whisper. “I should never have come here. We’re going to end up tossed over the side. . . .”
“Let’s get the parachute on first, then we’ll worry about the future,” I said.
“How do we know these even work?” she said. “They operate using pre-industrial technology here.”
“I was rather scrupulously trying to avoid thinking about that,” I said. “Right now, I’m hoping belief is enough because that’s all we’ve got.” The wind around us was now beginning to whine, the basket shifting more violently in response to the increased air movement. We both yelped when we were laid flat by a huge gust that had the basket swinging almost in a circular motion. It didn’t really settle, either. Each time the swaying began to slow, another blast of wind and then another would send us shifting again. Slowly, we could see the basket being pushed back further and further so that now we hung at an angle beneath the aerowhale’s belly.
“I swear to all the gods, if I get out of this alive I am heading straight home, to the portal, to my home, Mum and Dad,” Tess began to mutter.
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I’m so sorry!” Tess wailed, “I was being a total dick to you and now you might get killed, all because I wanted an adventure!”
“Tess–” She launched herself at my shoulders and then began to sob in earnest. I wrapped my arms around her and held on tight. It felt like an age since we’d done this. We’d been floating along on a weird little cloud of fairytales and failed retail enterprises. The last time Tess really cried on my shoulder was when Nan died. I didn’t like the circumstances, but for a moment, all I could feel was something that I hadn’t realised I’d been missing: feeling wanted. For a second, I was the big sister again, I could provide all the answers, could soothe away the tears. I squeezed tighter, as if the pressure would somehow take my fear away as well.
I felt hard fingers curl around my arm and I was wrenched, lurching to my feet. Mellor's yellow eyes bore into mine as he kept me admirably on my feet. “What are you doing?” he hissed.
“Pretty much bending over and kissing my arse goodbye,” I snapped back.
“Isn’t comforting Tess the role the prince is supposed to play?”
“He’s over there quivering, so I suspect no, not right now.”
“You are trying to usurp him.”
“The beast can’t be turned,” a voice broke in. Both of our eyes jerked upwards to see all of the aeronauts clustered above us, clinging to the upper ropes. “Best we can do is force a landing by closing its mouth again. You’d better make the jump.”
“This is not acceptable! You will not endanger the crown prince’s life this way!”
“We’re abandoning ship, milord; you’d best do the same. Winch it shut!” the monkey shouted. Several of his comrades scurried to do his bidding, the rest began to test the wind, reaching out to reveal a large flap of skin–like a Sugar Glider’s–appearing between their arms and ribs which caught the wind. Tess's fingers grabbed at my leg, and I dropped to the floor as the whale’s mouth was shut again and down we fell.
“We’ve got to get to the edge,” I said, through the teeth-chattering judder of the falling basket, “and jump out.”
“I can’t!” Tess yelped. I watched the simians peel away one by one, limbs spread like a starfish, the membranes between their arms and legs catching the wind and sending them down in a slow, lazy spiral.
“If we stay here, we die!” Tess looked at me, the blind terror on her face shifting for a moment and she nodded her head.
“We’re getting close to the estate boundary,” the prince said, hiding in the corner of the basket and peering over the rim. “Mellors, we can’t reach the boundary! I will turn into a pile of ash if we are even a millimetre over!”
“I know, Your Highness. Your parachute is secure?”
“Yes, yes!”
Mellors turned to us and said, “Jump over the side and pull the handle on the left to deploy the chute.”
“What do we pull if the chute doesn’t work?” I said.
“I have no idea, we’ve never had that happen. Now, Your Highness. . . .”
That was all the assistance we were going to get evidently. I just dragged Tess over to the side and saw the earth rushing towards us. “Together!” I said, we had no more time for pep talks. “One, two. . . .”
She threw her leg over the basket and hauled me afterwards and then we felt the truly eerie sensation of stepping out into nothingness. We dropped, it felt even faster than the basket; the wind roaring in our ears. “Pull the cord!” I screamed at Tess; my voice whipped away. I watched her hands struggle to find the handle and then up she went, a great big oiled canvas chute blossomed over her head. I pulled my own; my hand was resting on the handle waiting for Tess and felt the yank of the chute as it opened. I felt like we still were descending way too fast, but we managed to land, admittedly in a messy stumble, without too much more than jarred and sore limbs.
“Never, ever, ever again,” Tess swore.
“I know,” I said, looking around me and wondering where we were. The storm was now beginning to roll over the estate proper and I could smell the scent of rain on the wind. Everything looked too bright, too harsh and my ears were ringing for some reason. I stepped out of the parachute, unclasping the buckles, glad to be free of the weight and dropped the goggles to the ground.
“This is not the shit they tell you about in fairy tales,” she said. “I thought it’d all be magic forests with trees made of candy canes and sentient bunnies.”