Only the upper parts of the towers could be seen at first, but the closer they came, the more clearly the castle emerged from the fog. It rose majestically on its rocky plateau, an image of unshakable strength despite the raging weather. Lightning danced like garlands around the battlements, and the rumble of thunder echoed off the walls. The stone bridge to the twin island of Donnerhall, hidden in the fog, already offered an impossible view from a distance, as it hung in the air, spanning the expanse between the two cloud islands.
Nora and Eva looked in awe at the magnificent sight that lay before them, while Finn finally came to join them in the wheelhouse. His hair was dripping, and he shook the water off his coat. ‘The landing site is to the northwest of the castle,’ he explained. Eva patted him on the shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘We would never have found our way without you.’ ‘Yes,’ he said, as curtly as usual, and Nora started laughing. “You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?” Finn raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “Well, it’s my job. I’d be a bad storm navigator if you could do it too.” “Look,” Eva interrupted them, ’the landing stage is up ahead.’
With a grinding sound, Rex Venturum moored at the stone quay of Stormwatch. The deck was slippery from the rain and the ropes slid in Eva’s hands as she threw them over the cast-iron bollards. Nora, who had quickly changed out of her completely soaked clothes before docking, was now trying to secure the sailcloth properly, while Finn was arranging the gangplank with stoic calm. In this part of the island, the wind was not blowing as hard, causing a heavy haze to hang over the harbour. Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning repeatedly flashed across the sky.
‘There doesn’t seem to be anyone here,’ Nora murmured as she looked around. The massive stone buildings and warehouses stretching upwards from the quay looked as if they had been forgotten by time. But suddenly, another sound joined the sounds of the storm – a regular tapping. Eva squinted to see better, for a figure emerged from the fog. At first, all that could be seen was a shadow, then the contours of a thin little man became visible. His long grey cloak fluttered in the wind and a bent hat sat crookedly on his head. In one hand he held a lantern, the yellow light of which swayed back and forth in front of him, and in the other a gnarled walking stick that tapped on the stones with each of his steps.
‘That must be the harbour master,’ Eva whispered. Finn merely nodded. The man stopped about five steps away and scrutinised them through narrowed eyes that looked out from under bushy eyebrows. When he spoke, his voice was unexpectedly strong. ‘Hail to you, stranger. What brings you to Stormwatch?’ ‘Hail to you, master,’ Finn began with a slight bow, putting his hand to his chest – the usual greeting on this island. ‘We come with the desire to enter the castle. Our request is of honourable intent.’
The harbor master raised an eyebrow. ‘Honorable? Everyone knows the castle is not open to visitors, navigator.’ He let his gaze sweep over the airship, then over its crew. Turning to the girls, he said, ‘And why aren’t you wearing colors? Who are you?’ Eva exchanged a glance with Finn before stepping forward. ‘We don’t belong to any guild; we’re travelers. We have come to speak with the castellan.‘ – “Is Castellan Falstaff expecting you?” – “No-,” Finn started to say, but Eva quickly interrupted him: “Yes, we have announced our coming. Please take us to him.”
The harbour master regarded them suspiciously. ‘It’s very unusual,’ he said. ‘Please don’t keep us waiting any longer,’ Eva added, although her heart was pounding, ‘as you know, he can get very annoyed.’ The harbour master grimaced as if he had bitten into a lemon. Then he turned without a word and began to walk back into the fog with his stick tapping. The three of them looked at each other. ‘He’s expecting us?’ Nora spat. ‘No guts, no glory,’ Eva whispered back, ‘Come on.’ Then they set out to follow the strange man.
Unlike with most castles, there was no small village huddled around the walls of Stormwatch. Behind the harbour, a cobbled road wound steeply up to a mighty gate. The higher they got, the stronger the wind blew, and Eva turned up the collar of her jacket because small hailstones had mixed with the drizzle. When they arrived at the gate, the harbour master knocked on the black lacquered wood with his stick. A tiny window opened and a pair of suspicious-looking eyes peered out. ‘Who seeks entry?’
‘Hail, gatekeeper,’ the harbour master greeted her briskly, half-bowing without enthusiasm, ‘I bring guests for the castellan.’ ‘Guests?’ The voice behind the door sounded so questioning that Eva’s heart sank. But then they heard a mighty bolt being pushed back and the gate creaked open. It hadn’t opened all the way yet when the harbour master turned on his heels and disappeared back the way they had come. Soon the fog had swallowed the clicking of his cane on the pavement.
The gatekeeper turned out to be a tall, muscular woman in chain mail whose halberd glistened menacingly in the light of the torches. On the way across the courtyard, Eva was almost speechless with amazement, because a bright network of lightning stretched out above her head, dancing around the towers like a roof. The rumble of thunder was barely audible behind the thick walls, and there was no sign of the raging storm here either. But the guardian urged them to move on with her quick steps. She opened the door to the main house and motioned them inside without a word, then pulled on a thin rope that triggered a bell far away. Then she left the three visitors alone in the half-light.
The three stood in the large entrance hall of Stormwatch, which smelled cool and slightly musty. The room was impressively high, the walls hung with old tapestries embroidered with ancient scenes of storm taming. A massive chandelier, which looked as if it was made of ramified metal, hung from the ceiling. Tiny blue sparks flickered between its arms, spreading a faint glow. Eva’s gaze wandered over the carved beams and dark tiles of the floor, when the heavy creaking of footsteps and panting breathing broke the silence.
A man emerged from a side door whose appearance at first seemed incongruous with the martial castle: Castellan Tharion Falstaff. He was of impressive girth, his cheeks reddened and he wore a robe that had probably once looked elegant, but now looked more like a nightgown. In one hand he held a jug whose red contents sloshed dangerously close to the edge, in the other a folio that he had casually propped up on his fat belly. His alert beady eyes examined her curiously. ‘Hail to you, strangers! Falstaff’s voice was surprisingly melodic, his words drawn out as if he wanted to savour them. ’Visitors from the world beyond the Storm? And travelled so far just to see me? I’m flattered.’ “Hail, castellan,” said Eva, Nora and Finn simultaneously, bowing, then Eva stepped forward. “We have come to request access to your archives.” Tharion Falstaff looked puzzled at first, then burst out laughing. The wine in his cup spilled over the edge and sprinkled his robe. Finn looked disgusted, Nora giggled, but Eva was not deterred. ‘Castellan,’ she said, ‘we need your help. We have a document that led us to Stormwatch. Now we suspect that it is related to the archives on this island.’ Falstaff looked astonished. ‘A document?’ ‘Yes,’ Eva hastened to say, holding out the map. The castellan’s bushy eyebrows furrowed as he studied the lines and markings. ‘Very interesting,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘May I?’ ‘I’d like to keep it,’ said Eva gently. ‘Don’t worry, young lady,’ replied Falstaff, “I’ll give it back to you in a moment. I just wanted to look at this pattern.” With that, he turned the card over and studied the back. “Now, where did I…” Suddenly, he sat bolt upright and a flash of inspiration shot through his massive body, making him tremble. ’Come with me, come with me!’