Chapter 3

“Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

(Dylan Thomas)

The walls of the tight staircase were covered in moss and lichen. So were the steps, besides the huge spiderwebs the Princess and Willam tried to avoid as much as possible. They had to be careful not to slip. With the help of an oil lamp the princess had found in her father’s old desk, they could at least see where they walked. She just hoped the oil would last till they reached the air harbour. 

They turned another corner on their long spiralled way and found a platform with a tiny window high up in the wall, and she decided to take a short break to drink a sip of water and eat one of the apples. 

“You're okay Bubbles?” she asked the tiny redhead who was munching on his piece of the share. 

“I am fine! I want to find the treasure!” even though he sounded eager she could see the exhaustion on his face. Since he was so sick during his first year there the fever came and went. Mostly she had it under control now. But she knew it had taken a toll on his small body, which made him tire out quickly.

She hoped they really would find a true “treasure” down there. As her eyes wandered over the walls she saw some markings on the side, carved in the stone.

»Only 30 steps left«

Someone must have added it there a long time ago. “Look Bubbles, someone wrote there it's only 30 steps left to go.” 

“Really?” her brother followed her finger who pointed at the letters. 

“Really. I'm not lying. But I can carry you the rest of the way.” She saw  he was thinking about it. “You know it's okay to take my help,” she reminded him softly as she saw him struggle. He nodded curtly. She knew how hard it was for him to be not as strong as his favourite book heros: Little children and animals who could do everything when they set their mind to it.

“Alright then, let's go, you help me count the steps,” that lifted his spirits again a bit.

After she put Willam on her back to give the promised piggyback ride from earlier, and taking ahold of the lantern again, she kept going with some very enthusiastic counting from her back.

Not that he was very good at it, but by “elevenethish” she reached a door, pushed open, and was rewarded with an obedient croaking.

 They entered a room that looked like a small office, with a huge glass window and another door in the direction of the docks visible in the distance.

Behind them the blue afternoon sky, full of fluffy clouds, glowing yellow by the sinking sun. For miles you could see nothing but open space, something they didn’t know from within the castle walls. Some of the bridges were too dangerous to access so they mostly had a glimpse from a window now and then.

“Is that the treasure?” Willum whispered with awe in his voice. 

“Yes,” his sister whispered back. “It's called freedom.”

They made their way the last steps down to the old harbour. The docks looked surprisingly clean and well tended too.

Same with the old storage buildings that looked like they were glued to the Granite walls on the side and the former tavern on top of the storages. The only destruction visible was the broken down portal which led to the harbour from the castle's outer courtyard originally. Which they had no access to anymore. But even there someone went through the trouble to move the rubble to the side so it was not blocking the way. 

Carefully peeking down from one of the docks, they could even see the security net still intact hanging a few meters deeper to catch anything or anyone who might take the wrong step. Underneath it was nothing but white clouds. You couldn’t see the earth, there was only sky.

More than once the princess wondered how high up they really were. Holding Bubbles’ hand firmly, like her father used to do with her, too aware of the danger around, they walked over to the stacked buildings and to the wooden stairs which led up to the tavern’s round balcony.

Inside, the same picture: several tables and chairs, a bar and a small stage in the corner, everything in an impeccable condition. Someone was using the facilities, but who? And for how long?

As they were about to look into the kitchen they heard noise from outside. The brimming of sails, the noise of an engine, voices who screamed over it, a sudden bang when something big suddenly hit the dock closest to the tavern. They could feel the ship landing even in the building.

“A ship!” Bubbles squealed. And before the princess could say anything, shocked as she was by the sudden appearance, he made a dash to the door.

“Willam, no!” But it was too late, the little boy ran downstairs, excited to see who arrived at the harbour. His sister rushed after him. 

Outside she saw a boat, a hunting caravel she recalled. A mid-sized air ship used by pirates usually. And those pirates were none else then servants of the Lord of the flock. And suddenly all the forgotten memories of her past came crushing over her as she saw the sails made of midnight yarn which reflected the light of the sun, looking like the sundown itself.

And there in front of the ramp, an excited Bubbles who waved at a figure she used to know, but a long long time ago. As she approached, the man looked up with a thin smile on his face, “I would’ve never expected to see you down here princess,” the pirate said with a raspy voice, sounding surprised for a second.

“Neither have I Hawk,” she bit back, pulling Bubbles towards her. 

“Always an unfortunate pleasure to see the dark walk around in this castle,” he replied. “And its Captain Hawk, now."

“Well you should be used to it by now,” she snapped. “Captain Hawke.”

“Who’s the living boy? Last time I met you it was only you and…”

“Don’t!” She warned him, voice quivering. “Don’t mention her here of all places, after you refused to help me last time.” She suddenly became aware of the crew who silently stood on deck behind him, listening, watching, and a very silent Willam who had grabbed the fabric of her dress very tight in his tiny fists.

Hawk let out an angry sigh, “Alright I get it, it was a mistake on my part, why do we not take this conversation somewhere else. The little one can stay with Owl, I bet he has some cookies for him.” 

Willam’s eyes grew big on that. “Cookies like sweets?” The princess nodded and reluctantly let him loose. An elderly man with round gold framed glasses and wrinkles on his gentle face that showed he used to laugh and smile a lot stepped forward. With his white fluffy curls he indeed resembled an owl quite a bit. 

“Come here little Robin, I bet we find some hot cocoa too,” Willam didn’t need more encouragement but the princess' heart stopped for a moment, her pale face turning a notch brighter if that was even possible. With horror she looked at Hawk. 

“A Robin,” she only whispered. “He will become one of the flock.”

“That’s why we’re here princess,” he said tenderly, all defensive behaviour gone she knew he was trying to be kind, to make negotiations easier, but he didn’t hit the right nerve with it. The whole situation resembled another one she had ages ago with him.

“Come,” he said softly, offering her a hand. “Let’s go somewhere a bit more quiet.” The numbness crawled back into her limbs, in a trance she took it and followed him back to the tavern. 

Was everything for vain? 

After everything she tried?