Sangra City was quiet when we arrived that night, the stars obscured by a thick cloud cover. A drizzle soaked the skyship, driving me into my room. Luke and R'lissea had joined me, R'lissea sitting beside me on the bed, Luke standing at the small, thick-paned porthole, staring at the flickering city lights below.
"Are we going to stop here for the night?" I asked, looking up hopefully as the ship drifted to a stop. "I could do with an inn and a bath."
"You don't like the rain?" R'lissea asked, grinning.
I shook my head, a shiver running from my horns to my tail. "Too cold. A nice, warm sprinkle, maybe, but--"
A low rumble rolled through the ship, the porthole lighting up. I squeaked, instinctively covering my horns and ducking my head. R'lissea giggled, taking my hand and squeezing it.
"Is it really safe to be flying up here?" I asked.
"This ship survived the direct shockwave of a ninth-level attack. A bolt of lightning's hardly going to do anything," Luke said.
