Storm Dreams (The Cycle of Somnium Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

no more than dirigible balloons with large propellers attached to their wooden baskets, while others looked like galleons dangling beneath a mass of balloons. “They’re beautiful,” Cassidy said, as one of the ships passed off the starboard bow.
    “Yes, but none of them are like this lady,” Banner said, cutting the throttle to mooring speed and made his way towards a dock in one of the bright towers. “They’re mostly Twilight crafts. They’d break apart trying to enter the real world. This girl is solid everywhere she goes. Her name is Nubigena ,” he said, steering the nose of the airship into the mooring dock. “There isn’t a pirate here that wouldn’t give both his ears and probably his John Thomas to have her.”
    “Hence, we always go in armed,” said Brewster. “Chester and Karl will stay here and man the Lewis guns, just in case.”
    Cassidy adjusted the Mauser on his left hip, butt pointed towards his navel in cross-draw fashion. He didn’t know where he’d picked up the habit, but it seemed logical for a pilot. Nothing more difficult than drawing a weapon from his shooting side while seated.
    Banner brought him out of his memories by slapping a wad of cash in his hand. “My tab is good in the main establishments, but if you want to pick something up along the way, you’ll need this.” He strode past Cassidy and out of the control room. The others followed.
    What if I don’t want your damn money? I’m not a mercenary, he thought, as he examined the paper. It looked like bank notes, rectangular thin sheets printed with a dull blue ink, but of some currency he’d never seen before. He followed the others down to the dock. Over his shoulder he watched the Zeppelin float out from its mooring. He still couldn’t believe how huge the vessel was. It appeared at least eight hundred feet long and a hundred feet or more in diameter. Angled black script spelled Nubigena across the starboard bow. My God, what a ship. It still felt as if the craft could crush him at its whim. Why had Banner picked him to crew on such a vessel?
    Dock riggers, passing travellers and shipmen stared and pointed at the airship. They craned their necks as they walked. Many stopped and gawked as it drifted in the wind like a stallion flexing his muscles at the hitching post.
    “They know it’s different,” Brewster said, nudging him in the ribs. “Most people here are native to the Twilight, though there’re a few escaped dreams like us that hide out in the lower areas. They serve on the local airships,” he said, and prodded Cassidy towards a bizarre building that appeared to be made of folded paper. It rose above them twenty stories and seemed to grow straight out of the ground. “There’re even a few people that find their way here from the real world. Pilots, mostly. Slip in through open gates in the air. There’s only a few on the ground anywhere.”
    Cassidy marvelled, watching the colours and angles shift as the diffused light cascaded over the surface of the building. He couldn’t see a door, only a huge aperture which opened into a main lounge from the street outside. The light dimmed when they passed the threshold as if an invisible barrier cut down on the outside light.
    Another airman came towards them on his way out. “He’s real ,” Brewster whispered. “Found his way here about a year ago.” The airman looked German, in full flight uniform with an iron cross at his throat. He possessed the tell-tale arrogant poise, rigid chin and nose aimed slightly above everyone’s head.
    Cassidy flipped the lid on the holster beneath his jacket, but Brewster put a hand on his arm. “That’s—” Cassidy began.
    “Manfred von Richthofen. We’re not at war here, and you and I aren’t involved in the Great War anyway,” Brewster said, as Banner stopped several feet from the handsome German.
    “Pilot of the Storm,” Richthofen said, in a grim tone, his German accent thick and sharp.
    “The Bloody