Lady Raven — Mikala Ash

Encounter: Lady RavenMikala AshAll rights reserved.Copyright ©2016 Mikala AshWarning: This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.Lady RavenThere is no shame in running last in a race. It is disagreeable, no doubt, but there is no dishonor in it, provided one has stayed the course.My aerostat, misnamed The Shark, limped past the finish line to the jeers of the impatient crowd. Their derisive whistles and laughter climbed one hundred feet to assault my ears even through my thickly padded helmet. I was, after all, thirty minutes behind the winner, The Raven.I cut the throttle and adjusted the flamer to steer The Shark down to the parking area beside the official podium. She landed awkwardly and I was almost thrown overboard. The crowd laughed and I wished I was someplace else, racing my roadster, or even better a team of four at full gallop rather than hanging suspended beneath a bag of hot air.Adding to my discomfort was the fact that the race committee had delayed the prize giving ceremony until my arrival. The three place getters stood bored and impatient on the podium, awaiting my addition to the line of defeated aeronauts behind them.As I mounted the podium my sheepish gaze took in The Lady Raven herself, standing hand on hip, encased in a tight black leather flying suit, her helmet and goggles tapping on a shapely thigh. She watched me too, and unless I was mistaken her expression held a touch of admirationIn front of the podium sat her winning aerostat. The Raven was very sleek. Just like its owner. It was a beautifully streamlined affair; the fuselage black as pitch and made of an unfamiliar sturdy material, which was neither metallic nor canvass. It was unbelievably small, a quarter of the size of The Shark, and unlike most, if not all, vehicles I'd seen, the aeronaut did not sit in a basket beneath the gas envelope but inside, in a cockpit hollowed out of the fuselage which itself was the envelope. The inner workings, the means of propulsion, were invisible except of course for the aft propeller and ailerons.The presentation went over long, as they usually do. The Raven collected the thousand pound prize and the gold cup, Lord Darnley, his face livid with rage, collected second prize, and some tiny fellow from across the sea took third.As they posed for a calotype Darnley stepped towards her. He gesticulated aggressively at the Raven. You cheat with this magic!What magic? she retorted haughtily. This is science!Phar! Then what is this science? Show us!