The King of the North
an excerpt

Stick sighed. For some reason he never got tired of looking up at that face. There was something quite genial about it. Its large eyes held more expression in them then he had seen on a human face for ages.
‘Are you okay?’ He asked softly into the intercom.
‘I’m fine,’ Eleanor’s voice answered, though she sounded somewhat terse.
‘Are you sure?’ He asked, partly just to irritate.
‘I’m fine,’ she said, this time enunciating the fine just a little sharper.
The sky was white. There was a touch of dark in it occasionally but it had been overwhelmingly white for the past thousand or so miles and it was beginning to get to him. He had thought about just spending all of his time in bed down below but he knew that that would be even worse.