Cloudbreakers:
Vallen
Cole Vallen has spent his life dreaming of the sky. The only son of a widowed potato farmer, Cole wanted nothing more than to reach his 18th birthday so he could enlist as a Cloudbreaker, those who serve the Northern Alliance aboard airships in the unending war with the south. On the eve of his birthday, Cole's dreams slipped away when peace was struck.
When a shocking event launches Cole into the world he thought he knew, he embarks on a wild adventure as a key witness and learns what it truly means to serve and what it takes to be a hero.
This is the debut novel in the Cloudbreakers airship adventures series.
"Thunder inside..." Aislinn whispered as she bent once more in the center of the star-shaped burn on the stone. "An explosion without a bomb..."
"Suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find ya talkin' to yerself," came a grizzly bear of a voice behind her. Aislinn smiled. She didn't need to turn around. She knew exactly who it was. "What are ya doin' here, ya nutter?"
"Lucius," Aislinn said as she kept her gaze on the ground, scanning for any clue she might have missed. Any piece or part of a bomb. "What brings you away from the tavern, Chief? Wrestled everyone out of their coin already?"
"Nah," Lucius grunted. "Not one soul in this town can afford to pay me anyhow. I didn't bother. Came to find you."
Aislinn turned her head to look up at her friend. The huge barrel-chested engineer cut an imposing figure standing over Aislinn; over almost anyone, for that matter. He wore baggy cargo slacks made from leather and canvas, with pockets on his hips and thighs to hold the numerous tools of his trade. A dark reddish cotton shirt covered his massive torso, high-necked and crisscrossed with leather straps and an old pair of suspenders. Over top all of it was his thick dark-brown leather engineer's coat. He was never seen without it. Folk closest to him swore he slept in the thing. Aislinn knew it to be true. He sported graying black hair combed back smooth to his scalp, and a beard that came to a point below his chin groomed straight to match his hair. Aislinn thought of him as a handsome man, but the more you complimented him, the more he would cover himself in grease and oil. Aislinn smiled up at him.
"Find me? What for?"
Cole has managed to keep his attention on Aislinn to see her maneuver around the starboard side. He watches as the cannons shatter in fire and smoke. Her movements in the air are precise and elegant, and she swoops around the hull in tight arcs. He watches her destroy some of the cannons on the port side, but then she does something unexpected. She lands on the deck.
As the Cirrus begins to spin, Cole grabs onto the hatch combing to steady himself. The enemy ship comes into view, then out, then in again as the Cirrus spins in its fall toward the canopy. Cole finds in that moment that he has more conscious control of this flashback than his previous one. He finds he can freeze time within the memory and analyze details that his mind had recorded during the event. He plays with this a moment, watching the captain's hair and epaulet tassels wave with the motion of the ship. When the enemy ship is in view through the bridge glass, he stops the memory. He can see Aislinn. She is airborne, and banking toward them.
Cole lets the memory proceed until the next time the enemy ship is in view and he freezes it again. Aislinn's movement in the air seems odd. She has banked on an awkward angle and her steam jets are firing. No. Not firing. Not like before. The contrails have changed patterns. This is something else. Cole lets the memory creep forward, intently studying Aislinn before she goes out of view again. She is not in control. The enemy has hit her with something. Something that has tangled her. Broken her wings and backpack. She is falling, spiralling out of control.
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