Chapter 19 of WoTC took ages upon ages…so this got pushed back as well. Dear friends…I wrote myself into one big hot mess and have spent the better part of a month trying to get myself out of it. Although, at this rate, I'm getting dangerously close to pulling a montage.

It's also extremely sad that I had to quite literally unplug my speakers, and make sure my internet wasn't connected so that I had no distractions while I worked on this. My ADD is a powerful force, lol.

I hate airships. They require too much research. Basically, after several failed wiki ventures, I'm falling back on what I recall of certain art installation pieces and the fact that dry wood doesn't bend, it breaks, but wet wood or green wood will bend to a certain degree, depending on what kind of wood it is. The arced portion of a ship's galley? I'm going with that explanation and totally winging it as I go.

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Chapter Nine

Girl discovered sleep to be impossible. She "awoke" the next morning curled in a ball, knees against her chest and head bent down. Her headache still raged behind her eyes and when she finally stretched her legs, she discovered muscles and joints sore from a night of bad posture.

She sat up, allowing her legs to dangle over the edge of her slab, and stared at the floor for a few minutes. Her nightmares had become reality, and she hadn't the slightest idea what to do about it. Pretend? Merely return to work as if nothing strange had happened? She slid off of her slab to standing and groaned. It was going to be a long and frustrating day.

"There you are," she heard the Doctor's voice call from the doorway. She looked up at him balefully, not pleased to hear his grating voice so soon upon waking. "What happened in the workshop—I thought those drones would help you get the work done faster, not worse?" he asked, an annoyed expression on his withered face.

"I don't know how to command them," she complained.

The Doctor made a strangled sound and retreated from the doorway only to return a minute later. "Oh, and there's someone you should meet," he added before disappearing again.

Girl's heart began to race, instantly awake.

"Barbariccia," she murmured, slowly following after the Doctor.

She stepped into the workshop with hesitant footfalls, anticipating trouble.

Barbariccia stood in the center of the room, inspecting the work the drones had done the day before with her hands upon her hips. Her back was turned toward Girl, golden hair reaching down to the floor. She wore very little, Girl noticed, taking the moment to size up her enemy. And her skin was pale but had a certain sheen to it, almost like that of a snake's skin.

The Fiend turned slowly, seeing Girl out of the corner of her eye. The woman was nearly two feet taller than Girl and every sinew on her body spoke of her capacity for violence. She was truly a terrifying thing to behold. Girl felt her posture go rigid and her breathing constrict as she forced herself to walk forward, reminding herself that she was supposed to feign ignorance.

Barbariccia startled her by widening her cruel lips into a welcoming smile. "My, my, Doctor, it seems you've scared the little one into thinking all outsiders are dangerous," she said, giving the Doctor a sideways glance where he was standing halfway across the room.

The Doctor cleared his throat in an irritated sort of way. "Girl, this is Barbariccia. She will be here now and again to observe our progress and to help with the project."

Girl's gaze went from the Doctor to Barbariccia. Barbariccia was studying her closely, expectantly. Girl had the impression that the Fiend was searching for a weakness. She chose to play along, easing her expression. "Have you known the Doctor long?" she asked lamely.

"For some time, yes," the fiend replied.

"Why is it you've never visited before?"

"My duties take me many places, and seldom any one place for long. You haven't been here long yourself, have you?" the fiend asked.

Girl shrugged. "I found myself here a few months ago. He insisted I make myself invisible, so forgive me if I'm surprised to see someone here other than him or myself."

"Living in solitude can be strange, can't it?" Barbariccia mused, and then turned away again, walking between the drones where Girl had ordered them to stop the day before. "But solitude can put a significant damper on progress when there's no one around to do the heavy lifting, isn't that right, Doctor?" she added airily, sparing the Doctor a long look.

Lugae glanced nervously at Barbariccia and then at Girl. "The drones are your responsibility," he informed her with an uncharacteristic note of authority in his tone. "I expect this vat to be built by the end of two weeks."

Girl raised both brows. "Two weeks!" she exclaimed; outraged and a little panicked. "How can I possibly-?"

"That's why I'm here," Barbariccia informed her. "To make sure work stays on its scheduled course."

"There's a schedule?" Girl asked suspiciously.

"Always," Barbariccia answered shrewdly, apathetically eyeing the lumber lying askew across the room. "And by the looks of things, you have your work cut out for you."

"You said that yesterday," Girl grumbled to herself.

"Alright, then. Impress me," Barbariccia stated, turning around.

Girl gritted her teeth. "What—now?"

"Why else are you here if not to help the Doctor?" Barbariccia asked casually. "If you serve no purpose, there's no point in you being here—is there?" she asked with a cold bite at the end that Girl caught only by virtue of her previous experience with the fiend.

Girl strode forward, keeping her distance from Barbariccia. The drones stood exactly where she had left them, but she hadn't yet figured out how to direct them.

"Drones, move right beam to the left four feet," Girl instructed.

The drones buzzed, but instead of moving the beam at her right, they moved whichever beam was closest to their right and moved each beam to the left four feet.

"Hmm," she heard Barbariccia murmur behind her. "Pitiful. If there's one thing you learn about the machines in this tower, it's that they only listen to very specific directions. Observe," the fiend instructed. "Drones, find beam closest to east wall, reposition to abut with first laid beam."

The drones buzzed to life, thinking through this new command, and then rushed to work. They did in minutes, what Girl had spent hours the day before trying to achieve. She glared at the drones as if they had betrayed her and then looked jealously at Barbariccia.

"Simple," the fiend remarked at her.

"It's a completely different language," Girl pointed out.

"Learn quickly," Barbariccia suggested. "Try again."

Girl disliked being rushed, especially by someone she knew to be of nefarious intentions. Why were they running her through her paces so vigorously?

"Who exactly are you?" she asked Barbariccia after several hours of failed experimentation with the drones and the fiend's uncanny stare boring into her back. "You're not human."

"Me? I'm a creature of magic, a spirit of wind."

Girl's stare intensified. That wasn't all, she knew. Barbariccia had all but admitted her allegiance the day she'd attacked Girl on the upper floors. She'd said she was an "archfiend", whatever that was. But how could a fiend now claim to be working to help her people?

A fiend wouldn't, she reminded herself, and she would pick apart their lies layer by layer until she came to the truth.

"A spirit of wind," Girl repeated thoughtfully. "Sounds exotic."

The fiend tried to smile in a reassuring way, but it came across as more of a sneer. "You have no idea."

Girl could only nod to that, and ponder what the fiend really meant. Barbarricia was playing games with her, that much she knew. In the meantime, she had decided to give each of the drones names while she practiced ways to get them to do her bidding. It helped keep her distracted from the things she'd rather not think about—and it annoyed the Fiend, though Barbarricia tried hard not to let it show. There was Buzzard, Cat, Wrench, Zero, Cage, Snake, You, and the last, she named Niira*-Girl was pleased by her own cleverness and it made her smile to see Barbarricia's scowl.

"Now that you've indulged yourself by giving the machines names, why don't you have them do something useful?" Barbariccia asked snidely.

It had been three hours since the fiend's demonstration, and Girl hadn't been able to duplicate the same results since.

"Drones, locate southernmost beam, reposition—would you say that's fifteen feet?—" Girl added as an aside to Barbariccia, "to fifteen feet north, connected to previously laid beam."

The drones responded within minutes, doing precisely as Girl had commanded them, and strangely, doing exactly as she desired.

Barbarricia clapped slowly. "Oh, very good. At last, you've proven yourself a worthy assistant."

Girl cast a glare at the fiend, wondering when she was going to make herself useful. As if Barbarricia could read her thoughts, the fiend suddenly pushed herself away from the pile of wood and metal she'd been leaning against.

"If you'll excuse me," the woman said, walking away from her at a languid pace.

Girl watched her leave with an eyebrow arched, and took note of which room she'd gone into. Barbarricia was going to speak to the Doctor, and Girl wished she could be a fly on the wall. What were they talking about? What plans were they hatching? She was considering where to position herself in the room to overhear their conversation, but much to her disappointment, the door to his lab snicked shut. Girl sighed, annoyed at the lost opportunity and returned her attention to her team of misfit machines. Why was so much of her life a waiting game?

Hours turned into days, and days turned into a week. Under the watchful eyes of Barbarricia, Girl hadn't been able to do anything other than sleep and toil on her present project until there was a passable foundation laid for what would later become the vat.

Girl couldn't help but feel that it wasn't the job that Barbarricia had been sent to observe, but herself.

"What exactly does a Spirit of Wind do?" Girl asked one afternoon, while she helped straighten one of the newly laid beams.

Barbarricia frowned, just as she always did when she perceived she was being asked too many questions. "I guide and direct the winds," the fiend answered. "I listen for secrets and whispered plans."

"Oh," Girl replied, feigning to be fascinated by this response.

Barbarricia could see that she wasn't entirely impressed, and she sneered. "What exactly does a ninja do?" she asked instead.

Girl pursed her lips, both surprised and dismayed that Barbarricia had an idea of who she was and where she was from while she herself did not. "You're the one who listens for secrets in the wind. You tell me," she answered smartly.

The fiend seemed almost pleased by this response and crossed her arms. "Casting peculiar magic, is the rumor," she said after a moment.

"Peculiar?" Girl asked innocently.

"Magic different from that of mages."

"I don't understand what you mean," Girl said. "Are you explaining something to me or accusing me of something?"

"Just trying to piece together the circumstances of your being here," the fiend told her.

"I woke up here," Girl explained, annoyed. "I don't know how or why. All I know is that I'm here and I don't remember anything from before I arrived. If you're trying to gather information about shinobi, I'm not the person to ask."

"The Doctor tells me that you cast magic the last time his project failed. You were the one who doused the flames. How can a girl who remembers nothing, still be able to do that?"

Girl shrugged, walking along the length of the foundation. "Why is it such a concern for you? Can't I simply do my job and be done with it?"

"Magic is nothing to trifle with, little girl," Barbarricia warned her. "You know there's a war coming."

"So I've heard," Girl remarked. "What does that have to do with magic?"

"Everything," the fiend answered.

"I don't understand," Girl said with a frown. "I thought this was only a question of land and ownership—of the kingdom of Baron overstepping its bounds."

"There will come a time when those with power will rise and those without will fall. You were fortunate, to be born with your particular skills."

Girl looked at Barbarricia very seriously for a moment. Had the fiend really just slipped a detail she hadn't intended to reveal?

"You're saying that I'm well placed to help my people," Girl continued.

The fiend gazed back at her, almost seeming to look through her. "Very well placed," she murmured.

"The Doctor said that whatever we're building will aid in the war," Girl added.

"It will," the fiend agreed. "So it's important that the Doctor's work continues uninterrupted," she said, nodding at the half-finished vat.

Girl looked back at the fiend shrewdly, realizing that Barbarricia was going to be making sure the Doctor's priorities were her own as well. It was going to be difficult to escape the lab, at this rate. The Doctor's bargain with her was looking more and more hollow every day. She would still have to find her own way, only now there was a warden.

Girl gazed at the work in front of her, at the progress that had been made over the past week. There was so much left to accomplish, and the remaining schematics in the Doctor's keeping were a mystery to her. How long would it take to construct the final product? What was it? And what purpose did it serve—would she even be allowed to know?

It was a thought that bothered her up until the vat's completion.

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The following week was filled with many long arguments and complaints about the vat's final touches. The beams were finally laid with some creative use of the drones and foul looks from Barbarricia, but the job was done by the time the prescribed two weeks were up.

The morning after the vat's completion, the Doctor produced a strange substance that reeked horribly and had an oozy black texture. He delivered it in several large buckets and set them down in the middle of the work room to the sound of profound silence.

Girl leaned over one of the buckets with an arched brow. "What exactly—is this?" she asked.

"It's a substance collected from some of the deepest, oldest pits on the earth," the Doctor explained, clapping his hands together as though they were covered in dust.

"And what does it do, exactly?" Girl asked.

"When applied properly, it seals and waterproofs," the Doctor continued, pushing his glasses back up his crooked nose.

Girl grimaced. "This doesn't sound at all pleasant."

"You'll need this," Barbarricia said, handing her a shovel.

"What?" Girl asked, confused. "What about you?"

Barbarricia turned away, a satisfied strut in her walk. "This is why you're the assistant," she laughed.

Girl watched the Fiend leave the work room to settle "affairs" as she often called them. The Fiend spent half of her time away from the Doctor and his work tending to other matters, and the other half of her time making Girl's waking moments miserable. She wondered if there might come a time when she would discover what the Fiend was really doing in her spare moments. But like all things in this wretched tower, that would take time.

Instead, Girl took up her shovel and took on the monumentally unpleasant task of tarring the inside of the vat. It was three days' worth of work and she was alone for all of it. On the third day, Barbarricia returned, arms crossed, and the characteristic scowl on her face.

"Well, well," she observed.

Girl was drenched in sweat and her clothes were utterly ruined as she stared at the Fiend who was not covered in a speck of oil or tar or dirt.

"I thought this was the Doctor's project," she complained. "Why isn't he out here doing all of this work? Why aren't you for that matter?"

"He isn't as young as he used to be," Barbarricia said snidely, "And my hands couldn't possibly be sullied by so crude an earthen substance. I am a creature of the air, not the pits of the earth."

"If I wasn't here, who would be doing this very task?" Girl asked, angrily.

Barbarricia raised a brow. "I'm sure the Doctor would have found another solution. However, with your work completed, now you can make good on the other part of your duties."

"Duties?" Girl asked, fearing where this was headed.

"This vat was made to hold water."

"I already told you," Girl said defensively. "I can't just summon it at will. I don't even know how."

"Use your magic," Barbarricia persisted.

Girl looked at the fiend and then at the vat in front of her. To fill such a large space…

"I can't control it," Girl repeated.

"Can't—can't—can't. All that comes out of your mouth are excuses. How do you expect to be of any help to your people with an attitude like that?"

Girl had a sudden urge to scream. She wanted to help her people, yes, but not in the way Barbarricia and the Doctor were expecting.

"You don't understand—I can't," Girl protested. "I don't know how to summon it; control it."

The fiend sneered at her, and Girl could tell she was biting back her words—wanting to say that she had experienced Girl's magic firsthand—but that would be an admission that they had fought in the tower's upper reaches. That they knew who each other really was.

"Try," Barbarricia said through gritted teeth. "Or do you want this project to die in its infancy?"

Girl felt her panic begin to build. To do this was a monumental task. The vat was long and deep, and that much water from a non-source? She had done it once, yes, to douse the flames, but at least then she'd had a proper reason to cast her magic. Now, with no real prompting, she didn't' know how she would do it.

"Cast."

Girl stood at the edge of the vat, and swallowed. Was this her true test?

She felt extremely self-conscious, cornered, and unable to act.

Barbarricia walked close to her, and Girl felt her presence as a draft on her back. "What's the trouble—memory loss?" she mocked.

Girl pursed her lips. "I've already told you. I don't know how to cast the kind of magic you're asking."

"I don't believe that," the fiend scowled and Girl sensed she was on the hunt again.

"May I remind you, that every day we lose is another day that Baron has to mobilize their forces? If you can't summon water to this vat, how are we to proceed?"

"There are pipes! Girl exclaimed. "Pipes in the ceiling—why can't you get your water from one of those?"

"This tower's water supply is limited. Time is limited. You've done this before—you can do it again."

"Why can't you find your own water, rile up a storm cloud and make it rain? You're a wind spirit, aren't you?" Girl quipped.

Barbarricia gripped her shoulder and turned her around. Girl nearly stumbled from the vat's wall at the force of Barbarricia's tug.

"You will do this, or your usefulness to the doctor will be at an end," the fiend threatened, looking her straight in the eyes. "Fancy being inside a solitary room doing nothing until the war ends?"

Girl studied the fiend, at her cat-like pupils narrowed to dagger points. Be useful or be locked away? Were these her only options? Had these always been her only options?

"If I knew how, I would have no trouble casting magic to fill this vat," Girl said slowly, carefully. "I can't seem to make any sense of how or why my magic does what it does. I'm not a pet who can do tricks on command like one of the Doctor's other experiments. I need time."

"There is no time," Barbarricia contradicted her, pointing across the work room. "Do you see those other beams lying over there? They must be soaked and molded into shape over time—time that cannot be delayed. The frame for this new machine must be completed before year's end.

"When I helped the Doctor douse the flames, I was able to do so because we were both in danger—now I have only your nagging."

"Listen to me carefully, Girl," Barbarricia said in a low voice. "Do you see how many people are here to finish this work? There is only the three of us. And of those three, only you have the magic to accomplish this task. We could drain the water from the tower, but the reservoir would run dry and then what? Die of thirst? I've heard it's a terrible way to die."

"We'll have to die of thirst, then, because I don't have enough magic to do as you ask."

"Are you stalling on purpose?" Barbarricia asked, narrowing her eyes and pacing. "Do you not care about the survival of your people?"

"It's hard to care about people you can't remember," Girl replied vehemently.

"Cast," the fiend snarled at her once more.

"No," Girl said, hopping down from the vat's ledge and glaring at Barbarricia as she skirted around her to the work room's doors.

She knew the fiend would make her regret this later, but she was tired and angry and in need of rebellion.

"There's no escaping this, Girl. You will cast your magic or you will find your existence in this tower very unpleasant indeed," Barbarricia called after her, and deep down, Girl knew the fiend's words were a promise—a promise she would keep.

She straightened her shoulders and kept walking, the confidence in her steps a farce compared to the cold fear in her gut. She truly was trapped—in every possible way.

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A/N:

*I'll get back to that one ;)

Headdesk! After such a long wait, I would have liked to give you all something a little more substantial, but…well…this used to be longer and it didn't make much sense keep it as one long chapter so I split it again.

I have a better grasp of what's going on in the next chapter, but this one…this one took a while.

Also…in a fit of brilliance, a friend sent me a link to a diagram about wooden ship building and as it turns out…I was totally on the right track! Who said an art degree was worthless! lol

Sorry again for the long wait—and thank you for reading!

And for any of you who read any of my other fics as well, a second surprise chapter was posted to Emboldened. Check it out! ;)

~Myth