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Nothing But the Sky

If the story was intended as a clue, Dorial saw three possible hints: the mother's instruments, the father's airships, and the boy's gemstone. Cloud City hosted three docking structures, each visited by dozens of airships every week—slim chance that anyone working the docks would remember a lone girl, even a lady. The other two destinations, though, could be checked.

If the story was intended as a clue, Dorial saw three possible hints.
Blood Reckonings

Beatriz reached into the chest and plucked a single feather from its depths. Its quill was impossibly white, but its barbs were singed and melted, as if they'd been held in a candle flame. Though the feather was half the length of her hand, it felt as heavy as a cannonball. As Beatriz cradled it in her palm, she smelled scorched vellum; tasted ink and ashes.

"I'll say this for you, Beatriz," Aziz said as he followed her past a stone angel clutching a scythe. "You take us to the nicest places."
Audio Fiction Podcast:
The Limitless Perspective of Master Peek, or, the Luminescence of Debauchery

Podcast: Download (Duration: 1:09:23 — 47.64MB)
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For the sake of the beautiful Dogaressa, I took up my father’s battered old pipe and punty.
From the Archives:
Bent the Wing, Dark the Cloud
Liras tried to remain at his workbench and finish the customer's wings, but the pain grew too much.