There is still magic to be found. Even in the bleakest of places.<br><br>Hank Goodenough has spent his entire life in the smoggy streets of London trying to keep his head down and not to get noticed. Not an easy feat when you’re the tallest one in the room and have a brass funnel protruding from your head. When he finds himself laid off work once again, his dad wants to drag him away on a crazy quest. Before he can figure out how to get out of it, he finds himself on a steam-driven airship in search of Odin, the old Norse God, and is sharing a room with Captain Elazar Steel, a man strutting around on one high-heeled boot and one peg leg.<br><br>Steel doesn’t care that the winks, smiles, and small touches he and Hank share might get them hanged once they land on the ground again. He is determined to show Hank there is magic in the world and that there is no better place to be than on his balloon ship steering towards the Arctic Circle.

Eight Feet of Magic

Shit. Hank squeezed his eyes together. He wasn’t entirely sure humans should be flying. Had it been their purpose they’d have been born with wings.


“Woo-hoo!” A cold wind followed the opening of the door. “We have lift-off.” Steel clung to the doorpost. His hair in a mess, the top hat about to slide off, and his eyes had an almost crazy shine to them. “Come on, Hank. You’ve got to see this!”


“I’m not sure... Maybe I should...” He motioned at the stove.


“No, no, no. This is magic. The River Thames is below us; we’re not touching her.”


He waved his hands. “Just come see.”


Hank filled his lungs with air and followed Steel out on deck. People were still watching from the dockside and Hank was glad he couldn’t hear what they were saying.


Chapter 9