I Only Summon Villainesses

The day passed slowly.

Gilbert’s inn wasn’t exactly equipped for entertainment. The shelves held more dust than bottles, the chairs groaned under the slightest weight, and the one book I found turned out to be a shipping manifest from six years ago. Riveting stuff.

Kassie spent most of the day in meditation — or whatever she called sitting motionless with her eyes closed and her presence radiating “do not disturb” energy so intensely that even the flies avoided her corner of the room.

Nisha disappeared for several hours. When she returned, she said nothing about where she’d been, and I knew better than to ask.

Levi and Tristan played some card game I didn’t recognize, using rules that seemed to change every hand. Tristan won more often than not, which told me either he was cheating or Levi was letting him win. Knowing Levi, probably both.

I tried to sleep. And failed. Tried to read the shipping manifest. Failed harder. Eventually I just sat by the grimy window and watched the town of Wavegem go about its business — merchants hawking wares, sailors stumbling between taverns, the occasional patrol of guards who looked more interested in bribes than law enforcement.

’At least some things are universal.’

When night finally fell, the knock came.

Gilbert stood in the doorway, his guitar slung across his back and a lantern in his hand. The playful grin from yesterday was gone, replaced by something more focused. Professional, even.

“Time to move.” He jerked his head toward the door. “She’s ready.”

Levi was on his feet immediately, cards abandoned mid-hand. “About time.”

“Don’t start.” Gilbert held up a finger. “I told you tomorrow night, and it is tomorrow night. You’re lucky I’m not charging you for the extra waiting time.”

’Of course he thought about that.’

We gathered our things — not that we had much — and filed out into the darkness. The streets of Wavegem had transformed with nightfall. The amber lanterns I’d admired from a distance now cast long shadows between buildings, and the crowds had thinned to a few determined drunks and even more determined merchants conducting business they probably didn’t want witnessed.

Gilbert led us through a maze of alleys I never would have navigated alone. The man moved with the casual confidence of someone who knew every crack in every cobblestone, every loose board, every shortcut through someone’s back garden.

’Old habits, probably. Con artists and smugglers tend to know their escape routes.’

We passed the edge of the town proper and entered the forest that clung to Wavegem’s lower slopes. The trees here were unlike anything I’d seen on the other islands — twisted things with bark that looked almost metalite, their branches reaching toward each other overhead like fingers intertwining. The canopy blocked what little moonlight there was, leaving us in near-total darkness save for Gilbert’s bobbing lantern.

Kassie walked beside me, her steps silent despite the undergrowth. Her eyes caught what little light existed and reflected it back like a cat’s.

“You’re nervous,” she said.

“I’m about to board a flying vessel owned by a man Levi called a con artist. In the dark. Over an archipelago where falling means death.” I stepped over a root that seemed determined to trip me. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Sarcasm is a poor shield.”

’She’s not wrong. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.’

“Here.” Gilbert stopped at the edge of a clearing — though ’clearing’ was generous. It was more of a gap where the trees had decided they wanted nothing to do with the patch of ground in the center. The grass there was flattened in a familiar pattern, pressed down by something large and heavy that came and went regularly.

And sitting in that depression, half-hidden by shadows and covered by a camouflage tarp that had been pulled back…

My breath caught.

The airship wasn’t what I expected. I’d been imagining something like the vessels in the harbor — wooden hulls, canvas sails, the maritime engineering of a world that lived on water. This was different.

She was built long and narrow, her hull made of something that looked like polished bone but reflected light like metal. Two wing-like structures extended from her sides, folded now like a sleeping bird’s, and a series of crystalline orbs ran along her spine, dormant but faintly luminous even in the darkness. The whole thing was maybe forty feet long — small compared to ocean vessels, but impossibly elegant in a way that made size irrelevant.

“This is Nightwhisper.” Gilbert’s voice carried something I hadn’t heard from him before. Pride, maybe. Affection. “She’s not much to look at by daylight—all the scratches and patches show. But at night…” He smiled. “At night, she’s beautiful.”

The airship looked like something between a dream and a weapon.

Levi was already approaching, running his hand along the hull with familiar appreciation. “Still flying, old girl. I’m impressed.”

“She’ll outlive both of us,” Gilbert said. “Now get aboard before someone sees the light. The harbormaster’s patrols got nosier since the last incident.”

’Last incident…’

Boarding was simpler than I expected — a rope ladder hung from an opening in the hull, and we climbed up one by one into a cabin that was cramped but functional. Bench seats lined both walls, with storage compartments beneath and hooks for securing cargo — or passengers — during rough air.

I took a seat near a porthole that was really more of a slit in the hull. Through it, I could see the forest floor below, dark and distant in a way that made my stomach clench.

’We’re not even moving yet. Get it together.’

Kassie settled beside me, her posture as composed as if she were sitting in a temple rather than a smuggler’s airship. Nisha took the bench across from us, her eyes already closed, apparently determined to sleep through whatever came next.

Levi and Tristan sat near the front, closer to the cockpit — if that’s what it was called on an airship. Gilbert’s voice drifted back as he settled into what I assumed was the pilot’s position.

“Alright, listen up. Flight to Chainbreak is about four hours if the winds cooperate. If they don’t, it’s six. Either way, stay in your seats, don’t touch anything that glows, and for the love of everything holy, don’t open the hatch while we’re moving.”

“What happens if we open the hatch?” Tristan asked.

“You fall out and die. Any other questions?”

Tristan considered this. “No, that about covers it.”

“Good.” There was a sound like something large shifting, gears engaging, energy humming to life. The crystalline orbs along the ship’s spine began to glow — soft at first, then brighter, pulsing with a rhythm that felt almost like a heartbeat.

The Nightwhisper shuddered. The wings unfolded with a mechanical grace I hadn’t expected, extending to their full span. Through my narrow porthole, I watched the ground begin to drop away.

Not fast. Not dramatic. Just… away. The trees shrank. The clearing became a dark spot in a sea of darker forest. The lights of Wavegem appeared in the distance, a cluster of amber stars against the black bulk of the mountain.

And then we rose above it all.

The archipelago spread out beneath us — islands scattered across darkness, connected by chains I could no longer see but knew were there. Some islands were lit with civilization. Others were just shapes, shadows within shadows. And beyond them, in every direction, the endless black of the ocean stretched toward horizons I couldn’t make out.

’We’re flying.’

The thought felt absurd. After ten days of climbing chains, of aching muscles and terror at every ascent, we were simply… flying. Over all of it. As if the laws that had made my life miserable for the past week had decided to take the night off.

Kassie was watching me.

“You’re smiling,” she said.

I hadn’t realized I was.

“Yeah.” I pressed my face closer to the porthole, watching an island pass beneath us like a dream. “I guess I am.”

The Nightwhisper climbed higher, her wings catching currents I couldn’t feel, carrying us toward Chainbreak and whatever waited beyond.

I glanced around everyone, making a mental note of everyone. Then I suddenly and belatedly realized someone was not here. We had forgotten someone.

My voice came out quickly.

“Po! Where is Po?!”