All The Turns of Light by Frank Tuttle

proud chef about to gorge himself.
    “It is indeed a worthy craft,” he said. “Worthy of the history she’ll be making. Welcome aboard, all. My apologies for our abrupt departure from the Park. It was necessary, I assure you.” He looked directly into Meralda’s eyes as he spoke the words. “Mr. Conners. I hope no serious injuries have been reported?”
    The watch officer spoke. “None, um, Your Highness. Scrapes and bruises. The galley reports a crate of celebratory wine was smashed.”
    “Pity about that,” said the King. “But we’ll be dumping every last scrap of the provisions we took aboard as soon as we’re over the Lamp.”
    “We will, sir?”
    Yvin frowned. “I’m afraid so. All of it, down to the last onion. The water too.”
    His announcement was met with gasps and mumbles.
    The King shrugged and leaned down as his Queen whispered in his ear.
    Meralda felt eyes turn toward her.
    Meralda took a breath and considered her words. “I wasn’t aware you would be joining us, your Majesty.”
    “That was rather the point,” said Yvin. “Come now. You didn’t really expect me to let you lot go off and make history while I stayed in the Palace and ate puddings, did you?”
    Meralda shot a sideways glare at Mug. “I suppose not. I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say we are honored to have your Highnesses aboard.”
    Queen Pellabine laughed. “You should be a diplomat, dear. We’re honored to be here, aboard such a lovely vessel. I’m sure our voyage will be nothing but pleasant.”
    “Pleasant and hungry,” piped Mug. He turned his green eyes toward Meralda. “Ask him why we’re dumping our provisions into the river.”
    “Because they’ve been poisoned, of course,” replied Yvin, suddenly serious. “There are people opposed to this voyage. People willing to engage in heinous acts to prevent us from crossing the Sea.”
    “Poisoned?” asked Meralda. “All of it, and the water too?”
    The King shrugged. “Every morsel, every drop of our provisions passed each and every test our security services could devise. But I can think of no better way to end our flight prematurely than by poisoning our larder. So into the Lamp it goes, declared safe or not. We’ll take on fresh supplies at the coast. I do hope everyone enjoys potatoes.”
    His small blonde Queen rolled her eyes. “You’ll do better than potatoes, Yvin dear, or I’ll take over the mission myself,” she threatened. “Ignore him, please. He’s being dramatic.”
    Meralda frowned. “We took on a dozen crates of gifts for the Hang as well. Treasures, from all over the Realms.”
    “We did indeed,” replied the King. “Jewels. Books. Paintings. Magical wonders of every description. Left at the dock, under a tarp, to be hauled out into an open field south of the city where they can pester sheep if they’re cursed.”
    “The Alons will be furious.” Meralda’s eyes widened.
    “The Alons are always furious,” the King replied. “Being furious is their national pastime. They should thank me for giving them something new to shout about.” The Queen kicked her husband swiftly in his shin.
    “The Alon Queen herself agreed to the plan,” he amended. “She’s aboard too, by the way. I need not remind you all to extend to her every courtesy, do I?”
    “You might remind yourself of that first, dear,” the Queen snipped. “You promised me a coffee. Let’s go, shall we? These good people have an airship to fly.”
    The King grunted. “Very well. Mage Ovis–I mean, Chief Engineer Ovis, please join us for our morning briefing, seven sharp. Everyone else, keep us out of the treetops. Good evening.”
    With that, the King and Queen left the bridge, leaving stunned silence in their wake.
     
    * * *
     
    “But what if it is poisoned?” Mug whispered. “The coffee is the first thing they’d dose, you know that.”
    “Shh,” Meralda froze as footsteps sounded beyond the cargo bay’s wide double doors. Mug set his