Ember reached the southern Nests on a morning of rain. Their towers leaned above a sea of paper clouds, each window dark. Once, makers had sent their unfinished inventions between the towers on lanterns. Now the lantern strings hung empty, and every doorway had a sign explaining why its owner was not quite ready.
In the lowest tower lived a young mapmaker called Orin. He had spent seven winters drawing a vessel that could sail above the clouds. He knew every beam and bolt, but whenever a launch day arrived, he found another flaw. The ship had become magnificent. It had never moved an inch.
Ember landed on its rail and sneezed a tiny flame. Orin snatched away a sheet of plans. A creature that small could not possibly help with an engine that large. Ember looked at the engine, looked at his own crooked wings, and quietly agreed. That evening he tried to fly to the highest mast. He fell into a coil of rope.
The Null Regent spoke from the wet glass. It borrowed Orin’s voice to list the things that could go wrong. It borrowed the Creator’s voice to tell Ember he should have stayed by the bench. Ember almost believed it. Then he noticed that every warning ended the same way: wait until you can be certain.
He could not lift the ship. He could light a lantern. So he warmed the smallest one on the deck, and Orin watched it rise through the rain. A neighbor saw it and lit another. Across the dark towers, little lights answered. None of them could promise a safe voyage. Together, they could mark a way home.
The first launch lasted eleven heartbeats. A valve stuck; the ship settled badly; three drawings washed overboard. Orin was furious until a stranger arrived carrying the missing pages. Someone had watched from another tower. Someone had come to help. For the first time, Orin called the vessel a beginning instead of a failure.
Ember kept the scorched lantern ring. It fit around one horn like a little uneven crown. When his wings trembled on the next journey, he remembered the vessel’s eleven heartbeats. Small things could leave the ground before they knew how far they might travel.