Aethosphere Chronicles: Winds Of Duty - Plot & Excerpts
His marine escort said little on the trip down the ladderwell afterwards, only offering a thinly veiled warning when he stated, “You’re to remain in the mess until otherwise instructed; is that clear…sir?” Thinking back on it, Bar thought the inclusion of ‘sir’ a rather trite afterthought. Sitting in the galley, watching the world fade to a black velvet curtain, punctured liberally by a host of glinting stars, left him wondering if he’d answered his questions correctly, or convincingly enough. Or am I now in Moore’s secret prison? Al’s culinary assistant eventually emerged from the compartmentalized galley stowed away in the stern of the level. In one hand he carried a steaming bowl of what turned out to be baked pudding sprinkled liberally with Moon Fall raisins, and in the other, a cup of water flavored with diluted lime. Bar picked away the raisins as his thoughts drifted to Alabrahm. The old cook was nowhere to be found and that spelled certain trouble. Al wasn’t the sort to abandon his duties lightly, and that left him worrying over the old man’s fate, until what little he’d eaten over the course of the evening threatened to come back up on him.
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