An American Geek in a Halkeginian Court Chapter 26: Wind of Fate VI, a familiar of zero fanfic

Wind of Fate, Part VI

To give Captain Wardes credit, the next morning Jason's saddle-sores had been reduced to bruises. Still aching and sore, but they seemed to be healing cleanly.

Having to give the captain credit rankled. And he'd already thanked the man. And Louise had asked him to shut up around her fiancé.

So he was quiet that morning, not saying a word at breakfast, and then afterward Captain Wardes carried her off for another promenade around the city.

Left to his own devices, Jason tried to nap, but sleep wouldn't come, as he lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Finally he muttered, "If I'm going to use a bed and not sleep, I'd be better served by lying in Kirche's bed."

Which ought to have been all sorts of pleasant thought, but somehow it wasn't.

And we know why, don't we? Idiot. Besides, even if Louise doesn't have any business getting jealous of us anymore, there's no way she'd ever put up with us sleeping with her nemesis. Besides that, our appeal to Kirche was always about how she could use us to hurt our little mistress. If we tried to go to her room right now she'd laugh and slam the door in our face.

No, if we're going to look at anyone we know, Siesta and Jessica are the obvious choices. And we've known Siesta for longer, and we'll see her again sooner. If she'd be interested in having a tryst with us for real, then-

A stab of pain shot through his chest.

Oh. Guess we aren't ready to think about being serious about anyone else yet.

But he still couldn't get to sleep, so Jason got up and went to take another mineral bath until it was time for luncheon.

Lunch – once again in a separate dining room, so apparently the penumbra of Louise's nobility still clung to him in some small degree – was more stew to build his strength up, with a sideboard of cheeses and sausage balls. It all smelled as good as anything he'd eaten in Halkagenia, and far better than the vegetarian diet crap he'd inflicted upon himself at the Academy in the name of losing weight, but the food from breakfast seemed to linger, leaden and undigested, in his stomach, and he found himself picking at the stew and barely eating.

After some interminable period of this, when he was seriously debating giving up and just skipping lunch, the door to his little dining room opened up and Tabitha stuck her face in.

She nodded upon seeing him, and began to withdraw-

"Wait!" he didn't quite shout.

Her head paused, her eyes still barely visible.

Jason sighed. "Look, I'm honestly not up to trading jibes with Kirche today. Could you . . . just pretend you didn't find me?"

Tabitha hesitated. Then she stepped into the room and gave him an almost apologetic look. "Kirche is-" Another of her characteristic pauses. "It is hard, to be saying no. When she asks."

"I'll bet," he replied sourly. Damn pushy nobles who do what they want and just walk all over the people in their way- "Look, have you had time for lunch, yet? If you want to sit down and have a snack, maybe by the time you find Kirche and tell her where I am I'll have moved on."

The azuretop hesitated again. Then she sniffed delicately, and her nostrils flared. "Cazelle?" she asked, pulling out her wand and pointing at the small rounds of cheese on the sideboard.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Cazelle. Is it?" A quick wave of her wand, sans incantation, proved that Tabitha was quite skilled with Levitate, and one of the cheeses floated over to her. Whereupon she took a bite, and smiled as she chewed and swallowed.

Then her mouth opened wide and the rest of the cheese followed the first bite, and as she chewed the much larger mouthful she quickly walked over to the table and sat down next to the sideboard.

Jason's eyebrows rose slightly as she pulled out her book and resumed reading, while Levitating a sausage into a bowl of some pale substance that looked a lot like a cheesy dipping sauce. Her mouth opened wide again – it was actually a bit comical to see how large a bite the tiny girl could take, if she wanted to – and the entire dunked ball of sausage disappeared thereunto.

And if he hadn't been so . . . melancholic, he'd have laughed out loud at least once while Tabitha made her way through the sideboard with surprising speed, Levitating the bits of food expertly while never needing to take her eyes off her book.

Finally she started to slow down, and eventually a napkin Levitated up to her lips and gently wiped them clean.

Then the azuretop looked up and met his gaze with a look of faint surprise. "You were . . . to leave, you said? Avoid Kirche?"

"Uh, yeah. I should probably go." But then Jason hesitated. If she was willing enough to evade Kirche's schemes today, whatever they were . . . "Did you really want to come on this trip, chasing Louise and trying to join whatever adventure she was going on?"

Tabitha considered his question for a moment, and then shrugged.

He nodded. "Kirche made you come along, didn't she?"

Another shrug.

"So why are you letting her push you around? I've heard about the duel you two were tricked into having with each other, but . . . why be her friend, afterward? I haven't seen any interests that you two seem to share."

The tiny azuretop gave him a hard look, before glancing at the door, clearly pondering the advantages of just going then and there to find her redheaded friend. But then she turned back to Jason with a slight frown. "Good, it is. To have friends," she told him. "I had none. Then Kirche, my friend became, and I had one."

Ouch. A girl in a country not her own, and unable to make friends . . . it agreed with what Siesta had told him, too, that first week after he'd been summoned. But- "Is it friendship when you just do whatever she tells you?"

The frown deepened, and maybe Tabitha was glaring at him a bit now. "I . . . not weak! Strongest two, in our classes." She took a deep breath. "If I said no, she could not force me. Mind, I do not, while I learn, with Sylphid to fly. Letting her ride."

Jason rocked back slightly at the girl's sudden intensity. "Alright, alright! Obviously I've only seen her bad side, when she's spoiling for a fight with Louise. You'll know Kirche a lot better than I ever will."

The azuretop nodded sharply, but then took another deep breath and visibly relaxed. "Kirche is . . . bold. Aggressive. Overbearing, yes. She is. A bad enemy to have, yes. Does not care, if called wanton. Does as she pleases, and no one else."

Then Tabitha smiled slightly. "But a good friend she is, still. Doesn't take my books. Not to hide, tear, or burn. Doesn't betray. Doesn't say 'friend', then in your back, slip her wand."

His eyebrows rose again, this time not in amusement. If these were the traits the tiny girl treasured in the only one she called a friend, then what had it been like for her, growing up?

Not that he could really ask. This fragile little alliance he seemed to have reached with her wasn't nearly strong enough to allow that, especially after he'd poked at the friendship button and it had proven to be such a sore spot.

"Well, unfortunately Kirche doesn't see me as her friend. I'm just the familiar of her enemy, so it's open season on me for her little games."

Tabitha frowned again, almost absentmindedly Levitating another sausage into the remnants of the cheese-something dip and popping it into her mouth.

She took her time chewing, then offered a shrug after she swallowed. "Not before seen it, have I: A boy who wished not, when beckoned, to lay with Kirche."

Jason rolled his eyes. "The boys who all cluster around her in class are already saying 'Yes. Yes! YES!', so all she has to do is pick out whichever one she feels like. Why bother with the ones who haven't already fallen under her charm?"

Tabitha shrugged again. "Bothered with you. Bothers her, I think, that you resist."

He sighed. "She doesn't want me. She just wanted to use me as a way to attack Louise. Or her latest scheme, to use me as a way to distract my little mistress so that she has a clear shot at Captain Wardes."

The azuretop shrugged a third time. "Worked for other boys, at the Academy. Were seen with her, other girls became jealous. Wouldn't fight Kirche, as she offered. Would be nicer, to the boy they were jealous over." She paused. "Led to betrothal contracts, twice."

Jason flushed. Then, as the girl's eyes turned questioning, he blushed even deeper. "Louise already has an engagement. And I . . . don't have anything like that I can offer."

Tabitha nodded. "No title. No magic."

"I have something!" he retorted. "I'm a familiar, so I have auxilia. By definition. We just don't know what they are, yet."

Which sounded incredibly lame, once he said it, so he cast about for a bid to change the subject. "Does Kirche want to play the same game as yesterday, or did she come up with something new for today?"

The reply was a shake of a tiny head. "Do not know. Sylphid saw your master, her captain, during her morning flight, came to tell me prey was moving again. She said you'd be alone again."

"Prey?!"

"Quarry." Another shrug. "Targets?"

Jason gave her an incredulous look. "None of those are . . . wait, there hasn't been any commotion this morning about a dragon talking about people as if they were prey, to be hunted. So how exactly did you get a report from her?"

Tabitha looked nonplussed. "Came, to my room. We talked."

"Okay, yeah, but that can't always be an option. What do you do when you don't have some convenient privacy to confer like that?"

"Hunting cries, whistles," the azuretop responded. "Use to hawk, with parents. Mimic, Sylphid can. More calls, we have devised. Not perfect, but for her, a game. Enjoys it, to learn different calls."

"Oh." And now it was seriously tempting to talk about how he and Louise had managed to turn their inability to share senses into a primitive form of telepathy, and then slowly upgrade it over the last couple of months to the point where they were effectively texting each other in their minds.

But then he'd have to explain what texting was, and more importantly he'd be handing Tabitha a secret that he wasn't sure he was willing to give to Kirche's ally (and ride). Besides, being able to talk with Louise no matter where they were was an advantage that he'd rather keep between him and his little mistress for as long as possible, just in case it turned out to be an important advantage. Henrietta had pretty much said she was going to use her childhood friend as an agent again in the future, after all.

He was still contemplating whether and how to respond when the door slammed open, and Kirche looked in.

"There you are-" the redhead started triumphantly, grinning at Jason. Then she noticed the tiny azuretop, sitting across from him next to the nearly-emptied sideboard of cheeses and sausage balls, and sighed. "Did you get hungry enough to start without me? At least you kept him here for me."

Tabitha shrugged, and popped the last sausage into her mouth.

"Full, now," she said once she swallowed, putting her wand and her book away and standing up. "Play your games, if-"

The azuretop broke off as a sharp cry sounded, like a very loud bird. Then her eyes widened and she left the dining room at a run.

"Wha-?" Jason started.

"'Prey gone to ground'," Kirche helpfully translated. "If I remember what she's told me about their calls. Directing Flame is much easier. Now stay here, I need to know what's going on!"

With that, the redhead was likewise out the door.

He scowled. Yeah, and we need to know what's going on too. [Louise][][how are things going with you two][?]

[i am]

[i do not]

A long moment while she didn't respond.

[Louise][?]

[i am sorry][,][we were ambushed by more of those bandits].[jean jacques says they were angry that so many died the first time].[he does not have a clear view of them in the city][,][they keep ducking behind buildings].[they have their own mages].[skirmishing conditions]

Oh, shit! [what can i do][,][little mistress][?]

Another long pause.

[you cannot] she finally replied. [we are cut off][,][jean jacques is retreating to the docks]

This time the pause was much shorter. [i have not admitted that you are my familiar].[he does not know we can talk like this].[can you think of an excuse to come to the docks yourself][?][he wants to leave today][,][before we see what the bandits bring a third time]

He wasn't sure if he could, but it made sense to try, so Jason got up and trotted as fast as he could back to their rooms, wincing all the while. The bruises hurt a lot less than the sores, but they still weren't very comfortable.

[what about your things][?]

[we have everything we need with us] she admitted. [in case we found a way to leave zerbst behind]

Jason stopped short for a moment. Oh, sure, this was a wonderful opportunity to leave Kirche behind, at least in theory. Also a great way for Captain Wardes to ditch the uppity commoner and not have him complicate the sleeping arrangements. Wanna bet that the good captain could've come back to the Inn if he'd really wanted to?

Then he got moving again, because if he was going to join them, he needed to pack up quickly and then figure out the story he was going to offer.

It wasn't until he got to their rooms that Jason let himself finish the thought. "We need to figure out a story because Louise is ashamed to admit that we're her familiar in polite company!"

That last came out in a snarl, and he kicked the saddlebags that were holding his clothes.

You know, that healing potion would be great, if we're heading back home.

He started to bend down to open his pack . . . then paused. Dammit, we're half-healed already, and if we waste a – what'd Colbert call it? 'Sovereign'? – if we waste one of those on some bruises that Louise could probably make a salve for, how're we gonna explain that? How would we get another one?

And it wouldn't exactly impress him with our maturity and good judgment, would it? Let's not disappoint one of the good nobles, alright?

So can we come up with a good story? Not only for us to be wandering around outside, given our tender nethers, but conveniently carrying the rest of our luggage?

Jason shook his head, snarling again. "Not as long as we're not good enough for Louise to associate with!"

He took their luggage and put it all on the bed. Might as well get packed up anyway. Asking her to guide us in is pointless, but Tabitha might give us a lift back to the Academy if we ask nicely.

He drove one fist into the mattress. Silly, but it felt like the thing to do. "And bugger this subtlety shit right up the ass! That's how girls conveniently never mention important details like arranged marriages!

"When we get back to the Academy, we go straight to Siesta and ask if it's okay for us to court her!"

His voice dropped to a mutter as he rolled his eyes. "Pretty sure she's not hiding a boyfriend or fiancé somewhere. And if she's not interested, we know Jessica is."

Saying it out loud gave Jason pause, and he frowned thoughtfully as he started the actual work of packing. "And with her experience running the Inn, she's had more practice keeping her mind sharp. She could easily be the smarter of the two.

"And she said she might come visit Siesta this summer."

Packing up his things, when he'd barely unpacked, was already just about done, so he went to the next room to gather up the various less-important things Louise had left behind. Hell, maybe it'd be best if we just let them decide which one might be more interested, once Jessica shows up. Give us a bit of time to try to get over Louise, anyway.

So thinking, he gathered up what little she'd left behind. The last of which was a small bottle which proved to be full of a citrus-smelling liquid. It was the same scent that his little mistress had worn on that not-a-date night, and suddenly he could feel her face pressed into his shoulder once more, right where it met his neck, the scent from her hair and her perfume filling his nose.

Jason's hands spasmed, and he had just enough presence of mind to set the little bottle down before he broke it in a clenched fist. Then he stood there trembling, for several long moments, before he was able to shake his head and turn away.

Okay, okay, gonna need more than a bit of time to get over her.

He picked up her things and brought them into the larger bedroom, packing them while looking at them as little as possible. So we're not gonna obsess! That's how stalking happens. She's made her choice, so we gotta move on and not turn into a creeper.

Louise's things taken care of, it was time to do the same for Captain Wardes. As much as he'd rather not.

Hell, maybe we should just say to hell with love entirely, and focus on trying to figure out a way home!

The thought had its attractions. Avoiding Louise like he'd always tried to avoid an ex would be a lot easier if they were literally worlds away from each other.

Jason looked down at the three small bundles of luggage as he finished with the captain's things. "Except if we can work with Mr. Colbert to help the people around here avoid some of the pitfalls of our history, it'll probably be the most meaningful thing we can ever do.

"And dammit, the locals really don't deserve to be stuck under magic-slinging ty-!"

He broke off as the door was forcefully opened and Kirche strode in.

"You should have stayed in that dining room!" she scolded, jabbing with her wand for emphasis.

And speaking of tyrannous spell-slingers-!

"I had to guess where you went, and-" the redhead broke off as she saw what was on the bed. "Oh! You're already packed and ready to go! Good."

Good, yeah, he thought, as Kirche Levitated the three piles, grabbed his wrist, and started to drag him along behind her. Time to end this farce of a road trip.

She led him through the Inn until they reached a winding staircase. Then: "I don't want to have to wait until you limp your way up there. So take my hand!"

"You're already holding my wrist," Jason pointed out.

Kirche promptly let go. "Levitate works easier if we're holding hands. And I have to bring along those saddlebags, too, so hurry up and take my hand!"

He rolled his eyes, but she had a point about limping upstairs, so he did as she told, and soon they were rising straight up the hollow core that the staircase wound around as it ascended.

At the top was an aerie. It looked about the right size for a griffon, but was a little small for a dragon like Sylphid – so she'd likely been sleeping in her master's bed, as usual – who was perched on the landing. Tabitha was also there, stroking the dragon's head and murmuring to her.

"Tabitha, Syphid," Jason greeted them, nodding, as soon as Kirche set him down. "Good to see both of you."

The tiny azuretop nodded back. Her dragon's eyes, however, widened slightly at the greeting, and a great mouth started to open as if to reply . . . only to close again as Tabitha shook her head at her familiar and murmured something indistinct again.

"Sylphid says, Aanval flew," she reported. "Toward docks."

Jason's eyes widened. That dick! he thought. He could have-! But he'd already figured out that Wardes wouldn't mind leaving him behind along with the girls, so it wasn't that much of a shock.

Embarrassing, perhaps, that he hadn't thought about the captain's familiar and mount, but not really a surprise.

"Kirche said something about them going to ground?"

Tabitha nodded. "Attacked, yes."

The redhead nodded as well. "Sylphid said they were ambushed by more of those bandits, and this time they had mages! Your master's beloved fiancé wasn't able to fight them off, so they retreated towards the docks."

"To the ships, to the captains. Visited them yesterday," the azuretop stated. "Arranging passage, then?"

"Louise didn't say," Jason told them.

"But she wouldn't mind slipping out on us," Kirche replied with a smirk.

"Yeah, well, I've gotten tired of this whole farce," he admitted. "Tabitha, could I get you to give me a ride back to the Academy? I've proven to be entirely superfluous on this trip, and they're quite competent to go on without us."

"We're not going back!" the redhead retorted. "This is the second time your errand has been ambushed, and this time I missed out! We're going to be there when they get attacked by pirates!"

"There's not going to be pirates," Jason said wearily. "Just a quick trip while they get to know each other again. Give them their privacy: Let's go back to the Academy, where we can work on machines, practice spells, and read whatever we like without getting interrupted by farce and drama.

"Or, hell, just drop me off and you two can come right back here if you want."

Tabitha perked up slightly at the mention of uninterrupted reading, but Kirche's eyes narrowed. "Oh, no!" she said loudly. "If we bring you to the ship, then your master will have to let us come along out of gratitude, however grudging. And it's good exercise for Sylphid, right?"

The azuretop hesitated, then sighed. "To the ship," she said, quietly but clearly. "Good for Sylphid, yes."

Jason scowled as he was Levitated and secured to the Wind Dragon along with the rest of the baggage.

Hell, as least this way we can be there to run interference when Kirche tries her next ploy, whatever it turns out to be.

Wait, no, Louise can take care of herself, and Wardes can protect her when she can't. We are not going to White Knight for her. Only the most pathetic fools White Knight for someone else's girl.

Oh well, at least we tried to go back to the Academy. Just didn't have a choice, in the end.

By the First World standards of Terra, La Rochelle wasn't terribly large. But as a port city it was still of respectable size for a medieval culture. And the sun had been going down when they'd arrived. And he hadn't left the hotel to explore. So Jason hadn't actually seen the harbor.

Which was why, even though he'd seen the several-hundred-feet-tall tree they'd been flying towards as soon as they took off from the Goddess Temple Inn, they were halfway there before he saw the floating ships docked against its massive branched and realized that the tree was the harbor.

Which was not something he'd ever imagined outside of particularly tree-hugger-elf style fantasies, so it took most of the rest of the flight to finish gaping.

Still, Jason managed to get his mouth closed by the time they landed on a massive branch, where Wardes and Louise were arguing with a grizzled, older man, all next to a ship that looked something like an oversized sailing yacht with a pair of horizontal masts on each side.

"-telling you, we don't have the windstone supply to make Albion! Half my ballast is still being charged, and it won't be returned until tomorrow!"

The guard captain glanced over at them as they arrived with an unreadable expression, but then stared down at the (presumed) ship captain, unmoved. "With the unrest going on in Albion, any sane man would ensure the ability to make a round trip without recharging. What you have will be enough to get us to Albion."

The captain grabbed his hair in frustration. "Yes, you're right . . . if we use the planned launch window tomorrow! Right now I can get you within 20 miles of Albion, and then we'll all crash and die. Noble or not, you can't change how the world works, sir!"

Wardes smiled thinly. "I'm ranked Square in Air, Captain Tiago. The young lady with the dragon who just landed is a Triangle of Air. Between us we could fly your ship to Albion right now without any additional windstones at all."

Tiago's teeth gritted, he opened his mouth to offer some additional protest . . . but then his shoulders slumped. "Fine. At least give me time to recall my men on leave. Unless you want to replace them as crew, that is."

"That's acceptable. You have until sundown. At that point we launch regardless."

"Yes, sir." Frustrated but defeated, the captain shook his head. "Look, this is just a short hop, so most my officers are taking leave and sitting it out. I've got four empty cabins, feel free to divide them among your retainers, I've got work to do." And with that, Captain Tiago stormed off, calling for his bosun.

For himself, Captain Wardes stalked over to Sylphid, and then pulled Jason down off the dragon with a strong grip on his upper arm. "Come with me!" he commanded, and Louise followed as the guard captain headed for a quite corner away from everyone else. At a pace that was quite painful as her familiar was pulled along, limping.

"You knew we were seeking to cast off without those two," Wardes hissed, shaking him roughly. "Void Above, what madness possessed you to bring them along!?"

"I didn't bring them along, they brought me along!" Jason protested. And it was a little disconcerting how easily the captain – granted, not much shorter, but quite a bit leaner – was able to manhandle him. Not that he could mention it, let along protest. "Haven't you noticed that Tabitha's been having Sylphid run overwatch on the two of you whenever you left the Inn?"

Captain Wardes's eyes flickered. "You found out about this from her?" he asked, sounding faintly surprised. He still didn't let go.

Jason glanced over to Louise. Who looked distressed, but had a pleading note in her eyes. "Yeah," he replied. "Sylphid saw that you were being attacked by more of those bandits, and were heading here. So the girls knew what was going on before I did." He chuckled humorlessly as his little mistress relaxed. "And I wasn't going to try to limp through streets where there was fighting going on."

Something flickered again in the captain's eyes. Was that disappointment? Whatever it was, the man finally let go. "That young lady has proven to be even more troublesome than I expected," he murmured. Then, a little louder: "Have you seen or heard anything that might dissuade them from continuing on with us?"

Jason shook his head. "No. If anything, Kirche is hoping the bandits make a third try before we launch, so she can have the fun of driving them off."

"I see." Captain Wardes turned sharply and stalked off, back towards the dragon and the two girls.

"How are your sores feeling?" Louise asked, softly. Quietly. Much more quietly than the voice she normally used around him.

"Less sores now, and more bruises," he replied, shrugged. "They're healing cleanly."

She nodded, then frowned. "I'm sorry, I haven't had time to Mix up a salve for that. I could have done that this morning or last night."

Yeah, but you were too busy making eyes at your fiancé and trying to be his demure little rose. But he just shrugged again. "Don't worry, I'll be fine in a few days."

Louise didn't look entirely happy at that, but she nodded and they turned and went back to join the others.

"-can't be claiming you want to go into battle!" Captain Wardes exclaimed as they came back into hearing range. "Not after disclaiming the thought of military discipline!"

Kirche was grinning broadly. "Why would I need to join a company to seek battle? Here we are as a party of questers, fighting bandits just before we arrived at the Inn, a daring escape today, and maybe pirates tomorrow! I wouldn't miss this for the world!"

The look he gave her was positively dyspeptic. But, giving it up for the moment, the captain turned to Tabitha. "It will be no trouble to station Aanval on the deck, in a small nest in the open air. How will you accommodate your familiar?"

"Sylphid will . . . change size. In my cabin, rest," the tiny mage responded softly.

"Very well, Dame Tabitha," he replied sourly. Then, glancing at Louise as she and Jason came back over: "Reeking of sulfur as he is, Captain Tiago will no doubt spend more time loading cargo than recalling his crew."

"Hoping to profit from the conflict in Albion?" Jason hazarded, before recalling that he wasn't supposed to ask questions.

But perhaps Wardes was feeling indulgent, for he merely nodded sharply. "If he can find someone who will buy it from him, and not merely seize the cargo in the name of their cause. Which may be why some of his officers are refusing to make the trip." His expression turned unreadable. "You and I shall share a cabin, I suppose, so that each of the ladies may have their own. I would advise resting as much as possible, so that you're recovered by the time we reach the White Isle.

"In the meantime, look sharp! A third attack before we launch this evening is not impossible."

Jason nodded. Dammit, maybe we should have brought a pistol or two.

Getting the luggage(both his and the captain's) situated in their designated cabin didn't take much time at all, and he still wasn't sleepy. So Jason went back out to watch the proceedings.

Which, for the moment, consisted of a gaggle of stumblings sailors – drunk or possibly overcome with lust – following Kirche around like puppies as she Levitated cargo into place that, when the wind was in the right direction, did have the characteristic rotten-egg stench of sulfur. Captain Tiago was directing the proceedings as more sulfur was brought on board, and the looks he directed at the tall, curvy redhead and her ad hoc court were half-exasperated, half-envious.

His supercargo must be one of the officers sitting out this venture. Otherwise he'd be free to pull rank and have her all to himself. Or at least be front and center while she provides this morale boost to all her admirers.

Tabitha had already put Sylphid away, apparently, and was sitting against one of the masts, out of the way of the loading/ogling crew, reading her book. Dammit, we should have brought one of our paperbacks. Although maybe it would have invited too much comment by being too foreign in manufacture?

Louise came out of her cabin shortly afterward, and went up to join Captain Wardes as that worthy observed the proceedings. He murmured something that made her smile and blush, but then he offered some other comment that caused Louise to shoot Jason an uncertain look, before she made a hesitant reply.

[is something wrong][?]

[no][,][no][!][jeanjacques wanted to know how you could help][,][if the bandits return]

Well, as a practical matter, he couldn't. Which sucked. Damn, we really should have finished the revolvers and brought a couple along. Wait, unless-

[does this ship have muskets][?] Sure, it'd been forever since he'd done any shooting, his campus hadn't allowed carry, concealed or otherwise, but maybe-

Louise asked Jean-Jacques a question, presumably the same one Jason had just fed her, and the man's eyebrows shot up slightly, before replying and shaking his head.

[no][,][he says this isnt a privateer][,][so they arent armed]

Well, there went that option. On the other hand, at least he wouldn't make a fool of himself, trying to figure out the intricacies of period pieces and no doubt failing miserably.

A few sailors chose that moment to board, clearly drunk and disgruntled about having their leave cut short . . . and then there was the very obvious moment when they noticed Kirche and her followers, and suddenly their morale was climbing back up to full flag.

As it were.

He suppressed a chuckle, leaned against the cabin wall, and settled in to watch the ongoing farce until he felt tired enough to nap.

"You shouldn't stand in one place like that," Captain Wardes stalked over to observe, some time later. "You'll stiffen up, and it won't be good for your sores, even if they are healing cleanly."

Jason straightened up, then bit back a curse when his body confirmed that, yes, he had stiffened up.

The captain nodded, then cast a quick spell. "Fortify the Weary," he said. "Less useful than the repertoire of a trained medico, but it should aid nonetheless. Go walk up and down this branch a few times, to improve the flow of your blood, and then perhaps see if you can fall asleep."

"Yes, sir," he replied, nodding back.

The first few limping steps were not at all fun, but once he was far enough along Jason was almost able to walk naturally. It was starting to feel like he'd had a couple of the particular brand of energy drinks that had turned out to work for him best, when an assignment was coming due and the bugs were multiplying too quickly to give him time for anything as mundane as mere sleep. And the stiffness was quickly going away.

Nice spell there. Energy and ibuprofen in one tidy little package of vis. Wonder how hard it is to do the same with a potion? Something Louise could learn, if she wants.

And yes, he was still going to think of ways to help her be a better mage. She might have turned away from the growing intimacy and closeness they'd had at the Charming Faerie Inn. She might even be too ashamed or embarrassed – or maybe just awkward – to admit to her fiancé that he was her familiar. But Jason was still his little mistress's familiar, when all was said and done, and he wasn't going to forget that just because he'd been hoping for a more that was never going to happen.

Even if the thought of heading back to Earth for a couple of months until the disappointment faded still had its attractions. And in the meantime, being able to walk almost without pain was proving to lift his spirits to a surprising degree.

So he went to the tip of the branch they were on, to where the ground started to feel slightly shaky under his feet – given the forces at work on branches this long, there's gotta be something akin to Levitate at work holding these branches up, right? Some sort of native dweomer? – and back around to where the branch met the massive trunk of the tree-cum-harbor.

But as Jason was returning to complete the circuit and contemplating a second round, a group of men dropped down from behind the leaves of the branches above, Levitating onto the branch between him and Tiago's ship.

"Take them all!" one yelled, and they drew clubs and wands – and the occasional sword – and charged the ship.

Except one man, tall and lean, clean-shaven with cropped black hair and an eyepatch, looked around and spotted Jason. He sneered, drew a sword, and began his own charge, waving his blade wildly in the air and followed by a handful of others who'd stayed with him instead of the main body of attackers.

Jason stood there frozen as adrenaline surged, his eyes wide and with no clue what to do . . . but then the tall bandit tripped over a rough spot on the branch, and his sword slipped out of his hands, skidding across the wood, to land with a clatter at Jason's feet.

The tall bandit looked up from where he'd fallen, gave him a panicked look, and scurried behind the others, running back to join the rest of the bandits in attacking the ship.

Four pairs of eyes stared down at the sword at his feet, then looked up simultaneously, the other three pairs of eyes meeting his warily.

We don't really know how to use a sword! But if one of them does-!

No, he wasn't about to let one of them upgrade from a club to a sword, so a quick kick sent the blade skittering to the edge of the branch and over the side.

The remaining three bandits watched in surprise, and then the one in front gave him a wide grin, raised his club to shake it threateningly, and started forward.

It was a very particular grin. One Jason had last seen back when he'd been working graveyard at the gas station. One worn by punks who thought that letting their asses hang out of their pants like an entire gang of prison bitches made them street, and that getting ready to steal all the cases of beer they could carry off made them tough, and never mind that he'd been constrained by rules of engagement written by a far-off corporate lawyer with unarmed ninety-pound girls in mind.

But here and now, there were no rules of engagement. Just memories of punk grins on wannabe thugs half his size from his sophomore college year that he still wanted to bash in, whenever he remembered them hooting in triumph as they ran off to their getaway car. And earlier memories from playground fights, carefully held out of sight of the teachers, that had taught him that haymaker swings were slow and could be interrupted with a quick jab.

Three on one. Unfair shit, like we told Jessica. Gotta win this fast!

So as the first bandit approached, flanked by the other two, pulling his club back to ready a knockout blow, Jason surged forward and sent that quick jab to the bandit's nose.

And just as he'd predicted, back when the raven-haired faerie had been giving Louise the safety briefing, the bandit stopped dead, dropping his club to cradle his nose in sudden shock as the other two bandits recoiled in surprise.

Solar plexus? No, human shield-! The thoughts flickered through Jason's mind too fast to be properly articulated, but it had worked on de Montferat, so it'd probably work now-!

And even as he was thinking it, he grabbed the lead bandit and yanked him around, getting his arm under the man's chin before he could react to try to break out of the hold.

The other two bandits gaped in shock. And with the smug sneers off their faces, they looked surprising young.

New recruits-?

The thought started to flicker across his mind . . . but then their expressions firmed up, and they sprang forward. And the choke-hold he was applying wasn't working fast enough-!

The thug coming at his left was just a bit closer, so Jason shoved the thug in his arms at that one.

But that left the third free to swing at him, and he stumbled backwards to avoid the swing of the third's cudgel.

The sneering grin was back on the thug's face, and the other two would be untangled in moments, he really should have brought the revolvers along, and why wasn't someone coming along-!

A quick look, risked to give Jason some clue, showed Viscount Wardes facing off against the entire rest of the gang, Louise behind her fiancé with her wand out, too busy to come save him, no one coming, no one in the space between him and the ship, just crates of sulfur waiting to be loaded, and the other two thugs were getting back to their feet-!

And he had to back-peddle again, as the third thug took another swing at him. In a moment it'd be three against one again, and they wouldn't be making any more overconfident mistakes.

The crates. There wasn't time to think it through, just the flash of thought that it wouldn't be three on one in among the crates. So Jason sprang to his left, dodging around the two, hoping they weren't expecting it-

A crack of pain along his right side proved that at least one of them was ready enough to take an attack of opportunity. It hurt, stabs of pain in time with his panting, but he was still able to run, still able to breathe, and when he finally got to the crates and ducked around the tallest stack, there wasn't any blood on his palm when he coughed into it.

Didn't send bone into the lung then. Probably. But there wasn't time to worry about that, he needed to make sure that the trio of thugs truly couldn't come at him from all sides, and that meant going deeper into the stacked-

There was a sudden chorus of screams, causing Jason to freeze. Then the screams cut off, and a revolting stench hit his nose, burned hair and pork all mixed together.

He ducked through the crates, emerging as close as he could to the Marie Galante. There he saw Kirche, running around the surface of the branch just outside their ship, using Extinguish to put out a great many small fires that had somehow sprung up. And oh shit that was a lot of human-sized charcoal briquettes scattered around and among those fires.

All (rather wide) eyes were on the redhead as Jason approached, so no one paid him any attention until he was right up to the ship.

"Let me guess," he said, in a voice half-impressed, half-sick. "She had time to charge up her Fireball to epic strength, didn't she?"

At the sound of his voice, Kirche turned and gave a pleased bow.

Viscount Wardes (for there can be but one captain on a ship), standing at the foot of the gangway with his wand out, nodded curtly. "I was doing what I could to hold them off while I determined which threats to eliminate first, when she cast. Their mages' Shields were already sapped, and they had no chance." He looked Jason over. "We saw the ones who split off to go after you, but couldn't intervene. You seem mostly unharmed. Did you disarm one and seize his weapon?"

Oddly enough, we did have the opportunity for that. If it was us and not cousin Miles who was into HEMA and ARMA-

But his thoughts were interrupted as Louise came out from behind the captain and raced over to Jason, stopping just barely short of giving him a hug. "You truly aren't injured?" she asked anxiously. "Jean-Jacques said not to turn our backs on the the brigands facing us, so I couldn't come help you, and-"

"No, I'm fine," he reassured her, then his voice dropped down to a murmur that only she could hear. "One last hurrah for the Black Brute, eh?"

Her eyes widened briefly, and she smiled before turning back to rejoin her fiancé.

Not much of a hurrah, but we can pretend that any pain while we heal is just from the saddle-sores. "No weapons," he then told said fiancé. "They didn't seem to know what they were doing, but with three against one? I got them tangled up together then made for the sulfur crates. That way they'd have to come at me one at a time. Then Kirche threw her spell." He looked back towards massive the tree trunk. "If they've any sense they've already run off."

Viscount Wardes gave him a penetrating look. "I see," he responded slowly, frowning as if in thought. "You're doubtless correct about their lack of experience."

"I probably should have tried to snag one of their clubs, now that I think about it, but-" Jason shrugged, then looked over to where Kirche was just about done putting out fires. "These were those bandits from earlier today, right? Any chance they'll be back for a fourth try?"

Wardes snorted, almost in spite himself. "Aside from those you faced, I doubt there are any of these bandits left to attempt such. The fact that I couldn't dispatch them properly in the streets – skirmishing is not the clean contest of power against power that open battle invites – no doubt gave them heart, and convinced them that a frontal assault would end in a decisive victory.

"Apparently," he gave Tabitha a sharp glance, "they were not so diligent in observing us as Sylphid was, and failed to notice the arrival of reinforcements."

"And that's why you shouldn't complain about us coming along!" Kirche announced cheerfully, coming back up to where they were all clustered around the gangway. "No bandit – and no pirate! – can hope to face a Zerbst's blazing determination!"

"Blaze all you want, but not on my ship," Captain Tiago said grumpily, appearing at the top of the gangway. "That's what the wards are for, and I'll thank you not to try and break them, just to show off!"

The redhead pouted.

"On Sylphid," Tabitha said quietly. They all looked to her, and her cheeks colored. "If pirates come. Ride on Sylphid. No wards to break."

Kirche's eyes lit up.

Great, thought Jason. They've just invented the magical equivalent of air superiority fighters.

Eh, it's kind of obvious. It's probably standard practice, even.

But the adrenaline surge from being attacked was starting to wear off, and now the hit on his right side was starting to hurt a lot. "Viscount Wardes, I think it might be best for me to go to bed, now. The rush of danger is wearing off, and-"

The Viscount nodded. "Indeed. Come, and I will examine your sores before you sleep, to be sure the conflict didn't worsen them."

Well, hell, why not take advantage of free medical care? To that end, what does it matter that we have reason to hate the man?

When Jason awoke that evening, Viscount Wardes was there napping next to him. And the bed in their cabin was quite a bit smaller than what the Goddess Temple Inn had offered, so they were closer than he would have preferred.

But he was awake enough to get up, and after only picking at the food at lunch he was starting to feel pretty hungry, so he got up, got dressed, and headed out to see what airship offered in the way of grub.

The other nobles turned out to be gathered in the mess, so maybe it wasn't quite as late as he'd thought. "Did Viscount Wardes injure himself?" he asked. "Didn't seem like it."

The captain shook his head. "No, but he did tire himself by renewing as much of the ballast as he could, before he took an early supper and retired to rest."

"Will do the same," Tabitha commented, nibbling on some hard tack as she read her book. "After supper. Then bed as well."

And that was what was available as provisions: Hard tack and salted meat.

"Hadn't planned on leaving tonight, so we haven't brought fresh provisions onboard," Captain Tiago pointed out when Jason eyed his portion. "And Cook's sitting this jump out, so we've no one to prepare anything anyway."

Which explained why Kirche and Louise were both looking rather discomfited, although the tiny azuretop seemed content enough with her meal.

Jason frowned. "Can you get some fresh food tonight, if you want to? I'm no master chef, but I think I can do a little better than that if I've something to work with. Hell, if you've got a nobilum that can cook without creating fire-"

"I wouldn't have taken nobles aboard the Marie Galante if I couldn't hope to provide for them according to their station," the captain interrupted. "It's this leaving early that's causing the difficulties." His eyes narrowed as he looked up at the over-sized familiar. "You don't mind cooking for everyone? The crew won't like it, if they're stuck with hard tack while the passengers enjoy a proper feed."

"Let's see what I've got to work with," Jason hedged, shrugging. "But if Cook's equipment was sized to feed an entire crew? Yeah, shouldn't be a problem."

There wasn't just hard tack and salted meat aboard, it transpired. In addition to the decently-sized magical stove (with oven), the Marie Galante boasted a food locker that kept perishables fresh. Yes, as nobilia both items needed regular castings of Empower, but that's what hedge-wizard contacts in port were for.

In any event, the food locker was only mostly empty.

Jason nodded thoughtfully as he gazed upon the contents. Not enough time to let dough rise, but the tortilla recipe that Marteau and Armstrong came up with should be workable. And if we soak the meat to get the salt out . . . this might work.

"Alright, this isn't enough for everyone, obviously, but . . . you can get provisions if you want, right?"

Captain Tiago nodded. "It's late, but my suppliers will open back up for business if it means the difference between having the business they were expecting tomorrow or not at all."

"Alright. Then the sailors who go fetch the provisions get hot tortilla wraps right off the grill once they get back, and then I'll see if I can't manage some flat-bread pizza."

The captain frowned. "What's 'pizza'?"

Jason grinned. "It's this new dish that appeared in Bruxelles recently. I hear it's getting to be pretty popular."

Sending the volunteers off with a promise of something hot for their bellies also gave him time to put some yeast in water and try to get it activated a little early. Then he just had to defend the first fruits of his efforts until the volunteers returned for their well-earned reward.

But return they did, soon enough, and then Jason got to work on the pizza dough.

"Is this wise?" Louise asked quietly, as he mixed up a pesto (since making tomato sauce would have taken too long). "Only the Charming Faerie Inn is offering pizza right now."

"It should be fine," he replied just as quietly. "Obviously I learned it from the Academy chefs, and they probably got it from a letter that Siesta got from her cousin, who I hear lives in Bruxelles. I mean, we were visiting Henrietta, so clearly we weren't slumming it with a bunch of scantily-clad faeries."

She looked dubious.

"Besides, we didn't try out a thin-crust variant at the Inn. So this is an experiment, and not someone else's recipe."

Louise still looked dubious, but nodded, and left him to it.

Even shut away in the kitchen, Jason could hear Kirche's voluble complaints when Captain Tiago decided that the crew would be fed first. Something about them having had to work extra hard to have the ship ready for launch early. But then Louise spoke up, and it quickly turned into an exchange of sneers between rivals. Which was fine, as long as no spells were being cast.

The pizza, served hot and fresh, was as popular with the crew as it had been with the Inn's patrons. And once their hunger was sated, he pulled two large pizzas out of the oven and a third off the stove and was able to serve the officers and the nobles all at once, and not-incidentally claim a seat at their table.

"Where's, uh, Viscount Wardes?" he asked, looking around.

"He's still sleeping," Louise replied. "He planned to be up tonight to ensure the Marie Galante stays on course when she launches."

"I'll be glad of the help," agreed an officer (one of two, besides the captain) who looked like he might be younger than Jason. "Our navigator didn't want to risk it, so I'm acting navigator for this jump."

"You'll do fine, Theo," Captain Tiago assured him. "Every navigator has to do it for the first time, and most manage perfectly well."

"Still glad it's just to the White Isle for my first," the young officer replied, then took his first bite of pizza. His eyes widened as he chewed and swallowed. "This is-! I hear it's something new from Bruxelles? We need to find a cargo headed that way, Klaus."

The other officer, who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, took his own first bite, and chewed thoughtfully. "Let's get through this hop, first. Without going broke."

Captain Tiago's face took on a very mild look that made Jason want to wince. "Lieutenant Klaus, you were the one who talked me into flying sulfur to Albion."

That got a rueful smile from the man. "Well, if we can sell it we'll make a fortune, won't we? But the news out of the White Isle keeps getting worse and worse. Probably a good thing to leave a day early. Helps our chances."

"The news out of Bruxelles is calmer," the captain acknowledged. "If you can sniff out something promising in that direction, maybe you can even get our supercargo to come along next time!"

Then he looked around the small table in the dining room. "But I'm sure that talk of business would prove boring to our guests."

Except that the girls were too busy eating (or eating and reading, in one case) to respond. So Jason stepped up. "Well, if my own efforts are good enough to get you to want to try the originals, I'm flattered. Got the idea from one of the maids at the Academy, her cousin works at a place called the, uh, Entrancing Sprite Tavern?"

Louise almost choked on her pizza at that line. Fortunately, no one else seemed to notice.

"Something like that, anyway. She says that's where the whole pizza thing got started. They were facing competition from a tea shop, so they tried some new dishes, and it's one that proved to be popular."

"Cook might want this recipe, too," Theo offered. "Easier to eat than something out of a bowl, when the wind picks up."

"Sure, I'll write it out for you." Then Jason paused. "I've never been on a flying ship before. I heard something about windstones and ballast as we were coming in on the dragon, but how does that work?"

"Windstone wants to float," Captain Tiago replied. "Raw windstone ore will float, unless it's held down. Sometimes you want that, if you're on a long trip and no time to get your ballast recharged, but each chunk of raw windstone has slightly different lifting power, so it makes for a turbulent journey. Best be sure your crew all have strong stomachs before trying it!

"Refined windstone isn't as strong, and needs to be renewed more often, but you can direct the magic with a helm, and not need any magic of your own to do it!"

"So, renewing them . . . do you store them with raw windstone, or-?"

The captain shook his head. "Get a mage to do it. A hedge-mage by preference, if you can set up a regular contract with one in a port you frequent. Nobles'll do it faster, but they charge a lot more if they deign to do it at all. More vis in their wands, I hear."

Right, Wardes did say something about him and Tabitha keeping the ship in the air by themselves. "And helms? Are those nobilia?"

Captain Tiago nodded. "You can improvise one if you've got to. On my third voyage, not six months after I went to the skies, we had to do just that. But it was barely enough to let us limp to the nearest port, and our ballast was entirely drained by the time we docked. A properly ennobled helm doesn't waste ballast like that, and you can move with the air to rise and sink to find the best currents for where you're headed. You can even tack a bit, as if you're on the water."

"Huh. Okay, we're flying through the air, but if I understand it correctly, you still seal the sides with pitch so they're water-tight. How come you do that, if you don't sail the seas?"

"Oh, we're in the water often enough," the captain replied. "Not all the time, no, but tacking drains the windstones faster than you'd think, so if you can't find a more favorable wind sometimes it's best to find the nearest river going your way. Or even off the coast if there's a favorable current, but you'd best keep a weather eye out for sea monsters if you try that trick!"

Sea monsters. Didn't we hear something about that earlier? "Of course."

"Although, going over the land is troublesome even with fully renewed ballast. If you go low, the wind'll play tricks on you as you get close to the ground, and going high drains your windstones faster. So if there's a river deep enough to take your draft and going your way, that's why it's better to unstep the side-masts, set down, and let the river carry you, even if it's slow-moving." Then Captain Tiago smiled wryly. "'Tis different for a warship, I hear. Enough windstone and mages that you'd never need to fear running out."

"That's true," Louise put in. "That's why warships don't always need sails. With enough mages of Air they can maneuver as they please, and it doesn't matter how much that saps the windstones."

"Aye, warships and merchantmen like the Marie Galante are as wolves and sheep," the captain admitted. "So, have you any aspirations for sailing? I'm happy with Cook, but I could write you a letter of recommendation if you like."

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but his little mistress beat him to the punch. "No, he's just insatiably curious," she said. "I'm sorry it's such a bother."

"No bother, Miss," Tiago replied amiably. "Your retainer's clearly willing to listen and learn, and that's better than the kind of passenger who makes silly comments and expects you to agree with the munificent wisdom they've bestowed on you."

Louise gave the captain an uncertain nod, and went back to her pizza.

Then Tabitha spoke up. "If . . . if pirates come. How to respond?"

"If they're a merchantman converted for raiding, young miss, then between your dragon and the Viscount's Gryphon you should have no trouble driving them off. If it's a Albionese warship gone pirate-"

The captain paused, then shook his head. "Then we'll have to surrender. Four mages won't be enough to face a warship."

The azuretop nodded seriously, and the rest of the meal was rather subdued.

Wardes slept until they cast off, at which point Captain Tiago woke him, as they had apparently agreed upon earlier.

For his part, Jason stayed up just long enough to watch as they cast off. It turned out that it wasn't hugely impressive, not like watching a rocket intended for orbit. Nonetheless, a shiver ran down his spine when the Marie Galante separated from the branch she'd been docked to, and they were suspended in the air, far too slow for any kind of wing effect to support them, but floating even so!

Then he went to bed, because cooking enough to feed the entire crew had been effort, and all the oomph from that energy spell Viscount Wardes had cast was long gone.

Even without the salve that Louise might have produced, every time he slept Jason woke up just a bit more recovered, feeling just a bit less discomfort from his bruises. Needing to limp just a bit less each time.

So when he saw the moonlight streaming in from the small window of the cabin, and it occurred to him to wonder what the view of the moonlight on the water was going to be like – they were visiting an Isle, after all, which implied spending some time over an ocean – the prospect of walking around wasn't too much of a deterrent. Not once he'd spend a bit of time stretching to work away what stiffness he could.

And the view was spectacular, once he left the cabin. There were no lights on the ship, just what was provided by moonlight, and Jason's eyes were already adjusted to the dark from having slept. So the first thing he saw was the spectacular starfield overhead, even more brilliant than what could be seen from the Academy. And looking around, they were far enough out to sea that no land could be seen on the horizon, so hundreds of feet below them a reflection of the stars danced on the waves from horizon to horizon.

If this is anything like what astronauts see when they do spacewalks, no wonder they love it and want to return to space as much as possible!

There was no question of seeing his fill – he could have gazed rapturously at the twinned starfield for hours, and returned to it each night for more – but eventually his soul drank in the glory around him for long enough to feel slightly less parched, and he was able to look around and attend to the ship rather than the eternal twinkling depths it soared through.

The young officer, Theo, was at the helm, watching the constellations above and gripping the wheel, with determination written into his stance. Louise was standing stiffly at one end of the ship, and Viscount Wardes was grooming his gryphon in the small nest that had been set up for Aanval.

You know, cooking is the one thing we've managed to do that's actually been helpful on this trip. And we ought to be sucking up to him, if we're ever going to have a good working relationship. Plus it might make Louise less nervous about owning up to having us as a familiar.

So Jason approached the Viscount first. "Sir, were you able to have anything to eat when you awoke? I could try to prepare something, if you're hungry?"

Wardes stopped his ministrations – it looked kind of like he was preening his familiar's feathers? – and responded with a stiff nod. "My little rose saw to it that some of your 'pizza' was set aside for me." He paused. "She said you've been taking lessons from the chefs at the Academy?"

Jason nodded back, cautiously. "I showed them something called a 'sandwich' shortly after I arrived, and they insisted on training me afterward."

The Viscount's eyes narrowed. "A 'sandwich'? Such as Bruxelles's City Guard have begun eating?"

Oh, did Louise not cover that part? Shit. "It could be, sir. One of the maids at the Academy has a cousin who works at a tavern in Bruxelles, from what she's told me. It's a simple enough idea, it wouldn't surprise me if she could describe it well enough in a letter for her cousin to copy."

"A tavern," breathed Wardes. "That . . . my little rose wasn't quite clear on how you knew of 'pizza'." He nodded approvingly. "Cooking should prove a worthy skill to acquire, since your hands clearly lack callouses of heavy labor. Continue in that, and learn what you may."

He gave his gryphon a final few brushes along its wings, then nodded yet again. "Lieutenant Theo avoided drunkenness, and has proven to have a steady hand and good knowledge of the constellations. I shall seek my rest, now, and you should do the same, as soon as you feel tired."

So saying, Viscount Wardes set his grooming brush down and strode off to their cabin, as Aanval blinked and settled back down to sleep.

Jason didn't feel like interrogating the young lieutenant, especially since he had nothing useful to ask, so he made his way over to where Louise was standing.

And part of him couldn't help but be pleased that she seemed to relax slightly when he stopped next to her. But that's plain foolishness on our part. She doesn't see us that way, and isn't going to.

"I've never flown over the water," he admitted. "Especially not at night. It's an incredible view."

His little mistress nodded. Then her head twitched, almost as if she wanted to lean into him. But she didn't.

"You seemed a little tense, when I came out," Jason commented, feeling disappointed but doing his best not to show it. Keep our game face on. We can get through this. We will get through this. "Was something wrong?"

"No, I-" She broke off, hunching up slightly. "I thought, with the magic I've learned-"

Another pause.

"Eléonore can leave me shaking and feeling faint, when she's angry about something," Louise admitted. "Just by saying the most awful things! And now-"

She turned and gave him a dirty look. [you made pizza tonight][,][and jean jacques wanted to know how you knew about it].[i could not give him a good answer][,][and he kept pressing until i wanted to break down and cry][!]

[sorry] Jason replied, wincing. [turns out he has seen the orders the guards get from the inn][,][and wanted to know how i knew the recipes].[i told him about siesta having a cousin who works in a tavern in bruxelles][,][and he seemed satisfied with that]

[oh] His little mistress relaxed slightly. [good].[i suppose]

She was still giving him the stinkeye for getting her in hot water with Jean-Jacques.

Dammit.

Asking was stupid. He knew it was stupid. He couldn't help it. [Louise][is everything okay between you and wardes][?]

[of course][!] she quickly replied. "Jean-Jacques has been very considerate, keeping me company while you've been indisposed."

"Gallant of him," Jason replied, doing his best not to growl. "But that's what he should be doing, with you two engaged and needing to be reacquainted. Even with me feeling better, you should be spending as much time as you can with him."

"I am," Louise replied, just as quickly as her last response. But then she sighed. [he is not quite what i remember]

[that was ten years ago][,][and time changes people].[plus he is responsible for our safety]

[I know][!][but when he visited][,][he was kind][,][even though i was a little girl and he was joining the gryphon knights]

Jason raised an eyebrow at that. [seems like he has been quite charming on this trip] For you, anyway.

She winced again. [yes he has been very charming].[but he seems to think im still a little girl][!][and it is]

She broke off for a moment. [i thought i was growing up][,][but with him i still feel like a child].[i do not know how i should behave with him][,][and sometimes it feels like i cannot relax][!]

With that, she paused again.

Which gave him time to think of the best analogy he could think of. [like a formal dance][,][where all the steps have to be perfect][?][instead of relaxing with someone who is not judging you][?]

Louise turned and gave him a sharp look for that. But then she looked thoughtful. [he is grown up][,][and i am not][,][or not quite] She sighed. "Jean-Jacques has kept us all safe, despite three attacks by bandits. I'm sure his responsibility weighs heavily upon him." [maybe it is like dancing].[a new dance that children do not know][,][but now it is time for him to teach it to me]

That hadn't been where Jason was going. "He's discharged his responsibilities admirably, so far."

She nodded. Then shot him another dark look. [you are not making it easier]

He did his best not to flinch. [what do you mean][?]

[he wants to know if i have discovered anything unusual][,][and he asked about what you can do].[and when i do not know how to respond][,][he is disappointed that i do not trust him like a wife should be able to trust her husband]

Well, it was your decision not to tell him that we're your familiar. But pointing that out would only start a fight, so Jason looked straight ahead into the horizon, not trusting his expression. "Is it just as beautiful, when sailing over the clouds, watching them form a fairy-tale landscape below?" [her highness does not quite trust him either]

"Yes, it is." [she is not his queen yet].[he just needs to learn that we are not silly children anymore][,][as we begin to grow up] Louise looked pensive for a moment, but then her expression cleared, and she nodded to herself. "It's growing late. We should get what sleep we can, before sailing into the troubled skies of Albion."

He nodded back, and they each went to their respective cabins.

Where Jason did his best to stomp on the foolish ember of idiotic hope flaring up in his heart. Even if she doesn't want to admit what we really are to her fiancé, all he has to do is go back on the charm offensive and stop interrogating her. Which he'll do, now that our mysterious knowledge of sandwiches and pizza is resolved.

But the ember refused to die down entirely, and once he finally nodded off his dreams all held to a theme of vanquishing pretty-boy older men from the repulsed ladies they were pursuing. It was absurdly embarrassing, those moments where the dreams turned lucid.

A hand was shaking him awake.

"Wha-?" Jason started, before a finger applied light pressure to his mouth.

"Shh," someone whispered. "Don't want to wake the Viscount."

He nodded and rolled out of bed, then quickly dressed by the light of the moon and exited the cabin.

Then he turned to . . . it was Lieutenant Klaus who'd awakened him. "What's going on?"

"It's getting closer to dawn," that worthy replied. "Theo's going to bed, I'm taking the helm, and the crew'll be happier if they've a hot breakfast to wake up to."

Jason blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them, then nodded. "Right. I'll get right on that."

I suppose we're happy to help, he thought, once he'd entered the galley and started to pull out various greens for dicing. Keeps the crew happy, which keeps the captain happy, which makes for a smoother trip altogether. But maybe we should have talked to Tiago about pay, first. We're not a tourist anymore, and he's not our master.

But everyone had been talking about the trip to Albion being short, so he wasn't going to be providing free labor at oh-dark-hundred for very long. So he could put up with it.

But we need to be getting into the habit of looking for compensation or reward. That Germanian title won't just happen!

Which then brought him up short, pausing as he started to mix pancake ingredients. Do we still want a title? The whole reason for one was to have enough status to have a shot at Louise, and we pretty clearly don't, now that Jean-Jacques has come back into her life.

On the other hand, having a title would let us mingle with the nobility without causing nearly as much outrage due to our commoner status. Louise, Mr. Colbert, and Henrietta are pretty clearly exceptional in how they're willing to tolerate an uppity commoner who's too clever and curious for his own good. De Sauvage and de Montferat are probably much more normal in how they relate to commoners. Hell, Wardes would probably be lauded as a model of restraint and forbearance, the way he's put up with us!

It looked like enough mix to make pancakes for the crew, so Jason set that bowl aside and started on the omelet mix as he mulled the potential pros and cons of trying for noble status.

Captain Tiago poked his head into the galley a little while later, then smiled. "Pancakes and omelets? It'll be interesting to see how close they are to Cook's version."

They already . . . wait, we haven't seen anything like baking soda around here. Pancakes are probably one of those things that get invented almost everywhere. And frying up eggs is equally obvious. Plus you don't need forks to eat 'em, if you don't mind getting your hands a little dirty. "His version's probably better. This is just basic camp food, that's all."

"Mm. What about the nobles, then?" the captain asked. "They like their food a little more fancy, you know."

Jason chuckled. "Yeah, I know. Got a recipe for something called a 'biscuit' from Chef Armstrong at the Academy," and good thing he was willing to trade, 'cause the recipe we already knew needs baking powder and baking soda. Another reason to wish we had the internet. "I'll put sausage, egg patties, and sliced cheese inside, and it should be a reasonably exotic meal for their palettes."

Captain Tiago nodded. Then he came up to the oven and spoke quietly. "I know that the Viscount's young lady said you weren't looking for a position anywhere, but if you feel different, I don't have to tell her if I write you a letter of recommendation. I know it can be difficult to leave a noble's service, but it's equally plain to see that he isn't too fond of you. Might want to be out of sight, if he ever feels like going for his wand."

Jason blinked. "I . . . I'll keep that in mind. I don't think it's necessary, but, uh, thank you."

The captain shrugged. "Anyone can see you're recovering from an injury, but you're still willing to pitch in and help. Not everyone'll do that, and I'd hate to see you punished for it, just because some noble thinks you're too ambitious."

That got a slow nod. "Again, thank you. I will think about it."

The crew all woke earlier than the passengers, so Jason was able to get them fed off the stove while the biscuits cooked in the oven. Then, as the nobles were waking, he fried up the sausages and the egg patties, sliced up the cheese, and had biscuits fresh out of the oven right in time for breakfast.

And then he had to refrain from grimacing when Wardes gave him an approving look for having been the one to make breakfast.

Yes, we know how to cook, somewhat. Yes, it's skilled labor. Yes, this trip would be a lot less pleasant if someone didn't know their way around a kitchen.

It'd still be satisfying to punch his smug face in, just like that one thug yesterday.

But once again, providing breakfast for the officer's table meant he could claim a place at it, even if it was the foot. And the biscuit sandwiches were clearly appreciated, as everyone dug in enthusiastically.

Tabitha was the first to finish – seriously, it was amazing how quickly the tiny azuretop could pack food away, when she was of a mind to – and then looked to Viscount Wardes. "Have not-" She paused, then continued haltingly, "I have not, had experience, with the flying. Sylphid is new, my missions have . . . been on land. Captain Tiago says, if we are attacked-"

"If it's a merchantman turned pirate, four mages on a Wind Dragon and a Gryphon will easily drive them off," the captain interrupted. "My crew could even manage it ourselves, if they bring Fire mages instead of cannon and then have to board. That's half of why I bother with the expense of fire wards in the first place. But if a warship comes upon us, we'll have to surrender."

"Four-?" Viscount Wardes started to ask, then glanced down at his fiancée, sitting next to him, and smiled indulgently. "Yes, we four mages will easily see off any regular band of pirates."

Louise stiffened, and her face twitched . . . but then it cleared of all expression, save a sweet smile that she offered back.

Jason felt a bit of surprise when the Viscount failed to react, and quickly picked up a biscuit and bit into it to hide his reaction. Damn, dude, haven't you started to decipher her tells yet? And even if you haven't, how hard is it to figure out that she's gonna be proud of the progress she's made with her magic, and won't be happy to have anyone dismiss it? Especially the man she's planning to marry!

"And if a warship were manned by a regular crew of pirates," Wardes went on, "we could dispatch one easily enough. But such a ship would fall out of the air soon enough, so we should not count on the crew of a rogue warship to be so foolish!

"Warships do not rely on sails to catch the wind and move them along. Instead their motive force is provided solely by the windstones that hold them aloft, and can thus maneuver far more easily than any merchantman."

He paused, until Tabitha nodded her understanding, then continued. "Since this exhausts the windstones far more quickly, as well, a warship's crew must have a contingent of mages of Air, Line or better, to keep the ship in the air. And they can be hard-pressed to do so when their ship has engaged the enemy!

"Indeed, more than one naval battle has been decided when the mages on one side began to falter, and their efforts could not keep their ships in the air and maneuvering."

"And the rest, could not hold off the foe?" the azuretop asked.

"Precisely," Viscount Wardes replied, nodding. "There's no terrain to limit the scope of engagement, so you invite disaster if your ships engage the enemy piecemeal. Thus each warship must be well-supplied with Wind mages. And since we're flying into the troubled skies of the White Land of Wind, we may be sure that any warships we encounter, on either side of the conflict, will have a generous contingent on board. Gone rogue or not."

"Not four mages, then, against pirates," Tabitha concluded, nodding. "Four mages against many."

"There you have it," the Viscount confirmed. "Not to mention the muskets and the cannons. We're simply not outfitted to hold off such."

"What if we were?" Louise suddenly spoke up. "What if this were a warship, and we were prepared for battle?"

"Why, then we would do as all warships do, when dueling each other," Wardes replied, once again smilingly indulgently down at her. "We would seek to pass underneath the other ship, so that our cannon-fire could be brought to bear while theirs could not, and wreck them without braving their cannon-fire in reply."

"That's what Mother says, too," she said quickly, nodding rapidly. "But couldn't we do the same thing on Aanval? You're a Square, and if we flew underneath them-"

He blinked, looking surprised for a moment before the indulgent smile reappeared. "Ah. Very clever, little rose. You're right, of course. Seeking to interfere with the operations of a windstone helm is easiest when one is not concerned about being fired or casted upon. Nonetheless, breaking the air underneath a ship while you are likewise underneath it is a move that only the most daring use, for they must then glide out from underneath the ship before it crashes against them, and ultimately crushes them against the earth or water below."

Viscount Wardes's smile then turned rueful. "I must confess, I've only fought in one naval engagement, and that was when I was a Triangle. I suppose I should train to perform shipbreaking maneuvers, now that war may be looming." He shook his head. "If Albion falls, Reconquista will not suffer from any shortage of ships when they invade."

[captain tiago said something about ships being harder to handle over land].[so is that just for the coastline][?]

Louise's eyes met Jason's briefly, and then she spoke up again. "Will that matter so much? They may take the coasts, but if ships are harder to handle over land-"

"That may be the case for merchantmen," her fiancé interrupted. "But not for warships. And if you have them, and your foe is lacking, then your advantage can be enough to win battles. Or lose them, if you lack ships and have a need for them.

"In my last campaign with Stormwrath, Captain Rayan was hired to lay siege to the de Lago castle. They've always been strong Water mages, and their castle is in the middle of a lake. Unfortunately, we lacked a ship, and we didn't have enough air cavalry to fly the company across without being picked apart piece by piece."

He smiled grimly. "And as my then-captain found out, trying to send boats across waters held by hostile Water mages is little more than a quick execution of the poor souls trying to get across. The de Lago mages didn't even have to do anything fancy: They parted the lake under the boats, let them crash to the bottom, and permitted the wreckage to float to the surface."

There was quiet for a moment.

"What happened to them?" Louise asked, when no one else did. "They still come to Court, after all."

"So they do. Captain Rayan quickly negotiated a treaty, rather more in their favor than not. It was not a victory for Stormwrath, for all that we pretended otherwise, and I mustered out to form my own company after the negotiations were concluded." Viscount Wardes grimaced. "I've pondered the scenario from time to time. Water mages are plentiful in Tristain, of course, but their use in combat is limited unless one is fighting on the water. Then, they dominate the battle with brutal effectiveness. If Reconquista has any inkling of this, they'll seek to make good use of their ships so that they don't need to fight on the water."

"They will if they try to take Bruxelles," she muttered.

"Indeed. I'm sure they will seek to take Bruxelles last of all, only if the rest of Tristain falls. Facing the Lords of any element, on one of the Pillars of their Throne, would be too daunting to contemplate otherwise."

After breakfast, Jason mixed up some dough and set it to rise, then went back to bed for a nap.

He was woken well before noon by the cry: "Albion in sight!"

It didn't feel like he was going to manage to get back to sleep, so he stumbled outside, blinking back tears at the full light of day smashed its way into eyes that weren't nearly as rested as they needed to be.

Moments later, Viscount Wardes emerged from below, the tired tread of his steps suggesting that he'd been renewing the airstone ballast when the call came, and made his way to where the noblewomen were gathered close to the prow.

Everyone was looking in the same direction, to the front of the ship, but even once his vision cleared Jason couldn't see anything but clouds.

[where is albion][?] he asked as he approached the cluster of nobles.

Louise raised her hand and pointed. "Look, Jason! The White Isle's over there, behind those clouds."

He squinted. Clouds, yes, and behind those some more clouds, including one that rose up above the others to form a rather mountainous-looking peak. But below the clouds there was only water, all the way to the horizon, and he could see a bit of blue sky between the horizon and the start of the cloud banks.

"It's easy to miss, if this is your first time to Albion," Viscount Wardes said, looking ahead through a spyglass. "But the 'cloud' that towers over all the others is Harjall, the great white peak of Albion, where wild Wind Dragons still make their aeries."

Jason frowned, squinting again. "But where's Albion itself? There's just water under the clouds, all the way to the horizon."

He turned back to Louise . . . and flinched as the turn revealed that everyone was now staring at him. "What?"

"You don't know?" Kirche asked disbelievingly.

"He's foreign, Zerbst!" Louise snapped at her nemesis. Then she sighed. "Jason, Albion is the White Land of Wind. There are so many windstones inside it that the entire island floats over the ocean."

For just a moment, he felt a sense of vertigo. "Oh. That's . . . that's something I've never seen before."

"They say," Captain Tiago commented, "that if anyone could creep into the caves where the Wind Dragons like to nest, and go deep enough without being caught and eaten, they'd find that the inside of Harjall is one massive windstone, the size of a city or even bigger." Then he smiled cynically. "Of course, no one's ever done it and returned to tell the tale, so how'd anyone know?"

"Something draws Wind Dragons to nest there," Viscount Wardes noted. "Even when the peak grows crowded, and they fight each other for nesting space, the losers do not seek the lesser peaks of Albion to establish aeries in less crowded circumstances."

"True enough," grunted the captain. "Well, we won't see Dun Caledon or her sister peaks as we approach. Not from this angle. I hear the highlanders are sitting out of the whole Reconquista problem."

"They have too little to offer either side," Wardes agreed. "The blood of the Caledon clans has thinned since the Tudors became the Lords of Air, with the strongest of them marrying into the Albionese nobility and leaving the highlands behind them."

"Aye, and the Islemen below are just waiting to see who comes out victorious. They'll be quick enough to pay homage either way."

"No doubt." The Viscount went back to studying Albion through his spyglass. "I had heard that Port Scarborough fell to the rebels, but the city seems largely intact. Will you land there?"

"If it's intact? Aye." Captain Tiago nodded. "We'll want to offload our cargo as quick as may be, and be on our way back to safer skies."

"But if Scarborough's fallen, then Reconquista will get the sulfur you're carrying!" Louise protested.

"That's for them to fight it out over," the captain replied, shrugging. "And if we run into some suspicious sorts who make off with our sulfur in the night, but happen to drop some valuables in their haste to get away, then Reconquista won't have to be told about that."

Viscount Wardes snorted. "We need to reach Newcastle, for King James is said to have selected it for his last stand. I'd prefer to fly there, but Reconquista will be suspicious of anything in the air. So we'll have to make our way across the land, then past whatever forces are besieging Newcastle-"

"Ship ho!" came a cry from the helm, interrupting him.

They all turned around. And there, emerging from the nearest cloudbank, was the ship! Long and lean, it lacked the side-masts that the Marie Galante used to catch the wind to best effect, but made up for that lack with banks of cannons, several already open and clearly ready for use.

"You spoke of shipbreaking magic this morning," Captain Tiago said, urgently. "Use it, before they can react! You and the Triangle, drop the air out from under them!"

"We've already depleted ourselves to strengthen your windstones and silence your whinging!" Wardes snapped at him. "And look!"

A small cloud of blue-white smoke whirled into existence around the nest where Aanval sat. When the smoke dissipated, the gryphon familiar was sound asleep.

"They've mages of their own, and know what to target. As you said last night, we cannot hope to face a warship."

A multicolored flag appeared on the larger ship as it approached.

"They're ordering us to stop and be boarded." The captain groaned. "We're going to lose everything!"

Trying to outrun a warship would have been both foolish and futile, so the Marie Galante awaited her fate quietly, if not calmly. Soon enough, the warship-turned-pirate was pulled up alongside, and several men Levitated over. One had a wand, and the rest muskets.

The musketeers were clothed in little more than ragged canvas, but the wand-wielder wore clothes that would have suited him well enough at the Academy, if they hadn't been so torn and covered in grime. More than one bandage was visible through the tears, and an eye-patch covered his left eye.

"Arr, who be the captain of this here wreck!" the pirate leader demanded. (And Jason had to smother a sudden snicker: Playing the Black Brute had clearly primed his auxilum with a notion of how pirates were 'supposed' to talk.)

"I'm the captain of the Marie Galante," Captain Tiago replied, then quickly continued: "We fly a Tristainian flag, and Her Royal Majesty will not tolerate any action-"

"Arr harr harr!" the pirate interrupted, sneering. "Ye bring sulfur into these troubled skies, and speak of yer Queen's wrath?"

Behind him, the musketeers laughed loudly.

"We're only here to do business," the captain tried to protest.

But was interrupted once again. "Aye, business! Let's parley, then: How much do ye be thinkin' yer sorry lives be worth?"

Captain Taigo gritted his teeth, but then bowed his head. "Fine. You win."

"Aye, matey!" The pirate leader grinned toothily, then waved to his men. "You lot, keep a weather eye out on these bilge-rats as they bring up our booty! The rest of ye scurvy dogs with me, we've prizes to secure!"

Louise stiffened in shock as he then swaggered over to the cluster of nobles. Tabitha, looking not quite as tired as Viscount Wardes but nonetheless clearly exhausted of her vis, had gone completely still. Kirche was . . . the redhead looked torn between disdainful fury and speculative interest, Jason noted.

Crazy girl.

"Arr, such noble guests we have!" the pirate lieutenant crowed. "We've not espied such fair damsels in months."

His half of the boarding party loudly agreed, a chorus of catcalls and wolf whistles that had Louise turn absolutely frozen with rage, her only movement a twitching of her wand-hand.

"Why, 'tis not worth the thought, how sad we'd all be, if'n any of ye three declined an invitation to dine with us this evening! I couldn't be held to blame, if they took it badly."

"You dare-!" the furious rosecrown started to erupt.

"Don't be a fool, little rose," Viscount Wardes cautioned, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We lost when they showed up. It would take a hero of legend to save us now!" He quickly glanced around at them all, his gaze finally ending on Jason and lingering for a split second.

Yeah, this is when the Earth hero is supposed to bust out with something badass, or at least clever. Except, oh wait, we were stupid enough to leave the revolvers behind!

The pirates laughed as Louise angrily shrugged off her fiancé's hand.

"Arr, ye be a lively one!" their leader proclaimed with a leering grin. "Have no fear, me bonnie lass: Ye'll be not lacking fer excitement in our humble company!"

Oh, hell no! There's got to be something we can do!

But there was nothing. If everything had gone wrong when attacking de Montferat, their backup plan had been for Louise to start exploding things until they were safe. Which she couldn't do on a fire-warded ship.

And they'll have the Air mages to counter anything Wardes and Tabitha can do. As drained as they are, a Line can probably handle them, if not a Dot. The only thing we have that they weren't expecting is us. And we didn't think we needed to go armed, 'cause we're an idiot.

But if we're all we've got . . . In encircled ground, devise stratagems. And . . . got it!

"Captain Tiago!" he shouted.

It got the captain's attention. And everyone else's, as they stared at him.

"What?" the captain shouted back, sounding spitting mad. Understandable, under the circumstances.

"You're not a noble, you're not a naval captain. You're a merchant, right? You always have to pay attention to the profit margin, because if you don't, you go out of business."

"Go out of business-!" Captain Tiago looked even more furious. "What do you think is happening right now?!"

"Arr harr harr!" the lead pirate laughed loudly as he joined the shouted conversation. "Ye wound me, good captain! 'Tis yer sorry lives yer buyin' today, and cheap at the cost! Why, we'll even throw in this leaking tub, so ye can sail home safe and sound!"

"And come back another day for more such 'business', no doubt," Jason called out drily. "Anyway, Captain, you have to keep your operating costs as low as possible, right? You never know when you'll have a run of bad luck, after all." He paused. "Well, hopefully not as bad as this, but-"

"There won't be any luck after this!" Captain Tiago shouted back. "Without any pay, I can't afford another cargo! I'll lose my ship!"

"Right, but-"

"Landlubber, what are ye on about?" the pirate leader demanded.

"I'm getting to it-"

"Jason!" Louise snapped, looking appalled. "This is not the time to ask questions!"

"I only have one, though," he told her, trying (and honestly failing) not to sound exasperated. If they'd let us lead the conversation for just one moment! "I'm getting to it, if you're let me!"

"Harr harr harr!" the pirate lieutenant laughed again. "Ask away, landlubber. 'Tis a pleasure to watch a Fool ply his trade."

"Thank you. I think." Then raising his voice again: "So, Captain, am I right? At least under normal circumstances?"

The captain's face was now red enough that apoplexy seemed like it might be a real risk. "Yes!" he roared, then pointedly turned his back on the nobles.

"Then here's my question," Jason called, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard across the entire deck. "Captain Tiago, how long has it been since you had your fire wards maintained?"

Everyone on the deck suddenly froze.

And then he found himself really hoping that he was right, that they would need maintenance, that he wasn't making a complete idiot of himself like the pirate leader had suggested-

But nobody laughed.

The captain, still with his back to them, tilted his head, as if in contemplation. Then he turned around slowly, and his eyes gleamed as they lit upon Kirche. Who, for herself, was suddenly looking quite eager.

Captain Tiago smirked. "I asked the Fire mage not to stress my wards before we cast off. Because it's been . . . quite some time."

"Now, hold on-!" the pirate leader started, before Jason interrupted him.

"Thought so! Miss Vallière! Miss Zerbst! Stand by to repel boarders!"

The redhead's eager look didn't change as she drew her wand. His little mistress, on the other hand . . . her eyes turned gleeful as she drew, and she stood straight, with a self-assurance he hadn't seen since their rendezvous with Viscount Wardes in that forest clearing.

And perhaps, in the corner of his eye, the Viscount looked a bit startled. But if he had, when Jason glanced over the other man already blanked out his expression.

"You're crazy!" The pirate leader shouted, his 'pirate accent' suddenly absent. "My ship will destroy you if you so much as touch us!"

"And lose the sulfur you're going to so much trouble to seize?" Jason asked, deliberately mild and unconcerned. "Hell, you and the captain were going over the value of lives earlier, so tell me this: How much is your life worth?"

The pirate's wand started to come up, pointing at him . . . but then the man froze when Louise's wand was suddenly trained on him. He began to open his mouth, but then closed it, clearing thinking hard. "Our cannon can still blow this ship to splinters."

"Yeah, but we can take you with us. And then you lose the sulfur. So, why don't you calm down and negotiate like an officer and a gentleman of the Albion navy ought to."

That got an incredulous stare. "How did you-" He broke off, sighing. "Very well. Let me signal my ship, and we'll all find out how much my life is worth."

"Of course. Tabitha?"

The azuretop had relaxed from her earlier frozen stance, and now looked over at him curiously, as the 'pirate' started exchanging signals with his ship. "Yes?"

"If this goes wrong, and the Marie Galante is destroyed? Louise is your priority. Catch her and get her to safety. Even if it means letting the rest of us crash into the ocean."

After a moment of thought, she nodded.

And then Kirche looked very offended. "And just why is the Zero more important than-"

Viscount Wardes finally spoke up. "The commoner is correct, Miss Zerbst. This is her journey, not yours-"

He broke off as, over on the other ship, a very thin man came up on deck. Then a very peculiar expression came over the Viscount's face, and he declined to say anything else.

The thin man spoke with one of the sailors, and soon a new signal flag rose up.

Upon seeing the flag, the 'pirate' leader relaxed. "Well. It looks like my life is worth something after all." He raised his voice slightly. "Captain, do you care who you deal with?"

Captain Tiago hesitated, then came over to where the nobles were standing. "I knew the harbormasters under the Tudors. I won't know whoever Reconquista appoints. So if they could win, I'd prefer the Royalist faction, but all the news says otherwise."

That got a sour nod from the lieutenant. "About what anyone would expect. The price of sulfur in Port Scarborough is Void-high these days, but you won't be getting that. You'll get value equal to the worth of sulfur before the present shortage, and that had best be sufficient."

The captain didn't look exactly thrilled, but then he shrugged. "It's not the prize we were hoping for, but it'll keep me from losing the Marie Galante. At this point, that's worth something."

"Yes." Then the 'pirate' leader gave the passengers a quick glance. "You should have brought more than four mages and a gryphon for protection."

"They're passengers," Captain Tiago grunted. "We were hoping that all the warships would too busy with the rebellion to bother with us."

"Ah." The ragged lieutenant turned a more considering eye on the cluster of nobles. "With this prize, we're headed back to port. If you have business in Albion, you'll have to take ship with us for the rest of the journey."

"We-!" Louise started angrily.

"Hush, little rose," Viscount Wardes told her, with a hand on her shoulder. He nodded to the 'pirate'. "We accept."

She stared up at him uncertainly. "Jean-Jacques?"

"Your retainer has been very clever, little rose," he replied in a tight voice. "Now please trust that I know what I'm doing."

She stared up for a moment longer, then nodded softly and looked down.

Not particularly wanting to watch the engaged couple, Jason quietly drifted over to Tabitha and Kirche, who were observing as a small chest was Levitated over to the Marie Galante for Captain Tiago to inspect.

"Ladies," he began quietly. "Are you planning on continuing?"

"I thought we were going to have another fight," Kirche grumbled. "You owe me some pirates to kill."

He snorted. "You got to toast how many bandits already? Anyway, that's a yes?"

"Of course!"

"Right. Tabitha?"

The azuretop nodded. "Will go, with Kirche," she said softly.

"In that case, you're going to need to call Sylphid out of your cabin. Time to transfer her to another ship, after all."

Tabitha nodded again, then put her thumb and forefinger to her mouth and blew out a piercing whistle with a staccato pattern.

The door to her cabin opened, and for a moment it almost looked like there was a humanoid figure in the doorway. But then said figure seemed to almost flow forward as it grew to the full size of the azuretop's familiar.

The work of transferring sulfur crates halted for a moment – one crate in mid-Levitation even started to drop before the mage on the other end of the wand caught it – as the Wind Dragon took to the air and settled into a protective hover over her master, glowering at the lieutenant that had tried to take them all captive.

He looked back up at the familiar and, very quietly, gulped.

There were enough mages on the other ship to transfer the crates over from the Marie Galante quickly and smoothly, but they were limited to the speed at which the commoner sailors were able to retrieve said crates from the hold.

So there was time for the captain to pull Jason over to the side for a quick chat.

"Thought you were mocking me," Captain Tiago admitted. "Not coming up with a ploy to salvage this hop. Heirloom jewelry, the new cargo looks like. Maybe some minor nobilia in there, won't know 'till we get it all appraised. Won't get the best price if I try to sell it right away, either, but Brimir willing, my supercargo'll be able to work something out." He shook his head. "Sorry for misjudging you there, lad."

Jason shrugged, fighting down a pleased smile. "It's fine. People don't exactly expect someone with this face to be clever."

"No, they don't, and that Viscount isn't going to like being shown up by a commoner. Especially not in front of three pretty noblewomen." The captain sighed. "You're still set on going on with them, aren't you?"

Well, yeah. He nodded. "It's what I have to do."

"Foolishness, lad. But if I can't talk you out of it, then here." Captain Tiago produced a sizable waxed envelope. "It's a letter of recommendation, like I promised. When the Viscount decides he's tired of you, and if you manage to get out of the way of his wand, it'll be enough to get you a berth heading somewhere well away."

That got a grimace out of Jason as he took the envelope. "Hopefully it won't come to that." But it might, and we damn well know it. "But I will keep this safe, just in case."

"You do that." The captain clapped a hand on his shoulder. "And keep a weather eye out for that wand, eh?"

The hell of it is, this'd be a good chance to travel around Halkagenia, he mused, gazing off into the horizon as Captain Tiago left to supervise the transfer of sulphur once more. We wouldn't be the first tourist to make it a working vacation.

Except he'd still be abandoning his little mistress, the Academy, and any hope of steering the future of Halkagenia away from the worst of the horrors of Terra's industrial age. And maybe, if he was very lucky, to seed the eventual post-industrial era to try to avoid some of the ongoing modern economic issues of Terra.

"What did that man want?"

Jason twitched at the sound of his little mistress, suspicious as hell and suddenly right there next to him.

"Sorry?" he replied, so that he could have a second to decide how to react.

"I said," Louise replied back while narrowing her eyes up at him, "what did the captain want? What did he give you?"

"Oh, that. He was just grateful that I kept this trip from being a disaster for him."

Her eyes narrowed even further. "Jason," she started in a rather dangerous voice, for all that it also rather quiet, "I know you know how to lie by telling the truth. Don't do it to me. Now what did he say to you, and what did he give you?"

For his part, Jason looked back out to the horizon, where the peak of Albion rose above the clouds. "Tiago didn't think it was a good idea for me to stay within casting range of Viscount Wardes. So he offered me passage back to Tristain, and a letter of recommendation so I could find a berth with another ship."

There was a sudden intake of breath at his side, and he glanced back down to see that Louise had gone pale. "You didn't-!" she started in a faint voice, before pausing. "You did-?"

He shook his head. "No, little mistress. I don't know what good I'll be for the rest of the trip, but I'll see it out to the end."

She looked very relieved for a moment, before her eyes narrowed again. "And after we return-"

"Depends on what your fiancé decides about me, doesn't it?"

Louise grimaced. "That's . . . I'm not marrying Jean-Jacques until I leave the Academy. Until then it doesn't matter that he doesn't like you. We have lots of time to bring him around." She paused. "Or at least train you to better comportment."

"Mm." Jason didn't feel like responding to that, so he glanced around. "Well, he doesn't seem to be paying attention right now, but having private conversations with another man is hardly a good start at setting his mind at ease."

She grimaced again, but nodded and left.

It was, arguably, a conversational victory. Didn't feel very good, though.

Once the last of the crates of sulfur were transferred over, the party Levitated across to the Albionese warship. A few moments later, Sylphid landed on the ship as well, the dragon's body language rather reminiscent of a sad puppy, doleful eyes silently pleading to her mistress.

Tabitha stroked her familiar's head, scratching along its jawline as she whispered instructions. Instructions that made the Wind Dragon perk up and gently nuzzle her mistress, before taking off once more and soaring around the warship.

"Welcome aboard the Eagle," a voice said in what sounded like the classiest version of received pronunciation Jason had ever heard. He turned with the rest of the group to see that the thin pirate had approached them while the tiny azuretop reassured her familiar.

"If you will follow me, milord, miladies, to the officer's mess? And you as well," the pirate offered as an afterthought to Jason.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Viscount Wardes replied. "If you'll lead the way?"

"Very good, milord."

The officer's mess was a relatively small room, but there were enough chairs around the table for all of them to sit down.

[are we prisoners][?] Jason asked. It didn't seem like it, the four nobles still had their wands, but if there was some sort of tacit parole going on that he lacked the cultural familiarity to notice-

"We're not prisoners, are we?" Louise asked for him, interrupting his train of thought.

"No, little rose," her fiancé replied. "Else the captain's steward would have required our wands or our parole." He paused. "Although they may be debating the possibility while we wait."

Then Viscount Wardes turned to Jason with a deep frown. "That was a very risky gambit. If we'd surrendered, it would have meant ransoms at worst."

"That's not what their lieutenant was implying, sir."

"Dame Tabitha, Miss Zerbst, and Louise are all noblewomen, and of high family. Even the most rapacious pirate wouldn't dare to bring the wrath of their families down upon them." The Viscount's frown softened and shifted to a slight sneer. "But if you were worried that they'd be ravaged as if they were mere commoners . . . your concern was laudable. Your ignorance was not."

Louise winced, and then began to protest. "I was also concerned, Jean-Jacques-"

"Don't worry, little rose," he interrupted with an indulgent smile. "The pirate officer was merely putting on a show for his men. Yes, the officers of this warship would have insisted on the three of you joining them at each meal. And yes, they'd have trifled with you to some small degree, until the ransoms were paid. But you'd have been returned to your families undefiled."

"I-" A shake of her head sent pink tresses bouncing for a moment, and she didn't look entirely happy, but she didn't protest further.

For her part, Kirche adopted a rather disgruntled expression as soon as Wardes mentioned being returned to her family. "If they try to take us prisoner now, they'll have quite the surprise," she muttered.

"Oh?" The Viscount smirked. "Have you not realized that we're now on a warship, and the wards against Fire will not have been neglected? What spells have you studied outside your element?"

The redhead blinked, and an appalled look flashed over her face. "Tabitha-" she began.

"Sylphid will watch," the azuretop promised. "Will cry alarm, if needed."

"And we shall do our best, if it comes to drawn wands." Despite the words, Viscount Wardes looked almost grim. "But we shall need to rest before our vis is replenished, and if this is a trap there's little we can do at the moment to resist."

Jason did his best not to wince. He'd done the best he could, but- Make us a midget and call us Vorkosigan, and we still wouldn't have Miles' mad luck. But Jean-Jacques made it sound like we had to do something!

"I haven't been casting," Louise suddenly spoke up. "I could protect us, if I had to. I'd just try to cast something besides a Fire elementari, and the explosion would still be effective."

"That-" Viscount Wardes paused suddenly, a thoughtful look on his face for a moment. But then he shook his head. "No, little rose. So far we've avoided crossing wands with our present hosts, but if we do them an injury, they're far less likely to accept surrender or seek ransoms."

Jason blanched. "Wait, so threatening them-"

"We were very fortunate that your ploy succeeded. Tense negotiations are not quite a battle, and our hosts did acquire what they sought. But if your bluff had been called . . ."

He sagged as the Viscount trailed off, and kept his mouth shut. Maybe we did have a touch of Miles' own luck. But we can't count on having it again. Best to leave it to the experts to decide what to do.

The door opened, and all four mages quickly dropped their hands to their wands. But the thin pirate was the only one who entered, and his hands were empty as he bowed. "Milord, my lord wishes to meet with you and your retinue."

Viscount Wardes stood, his eyes gleaming. "As we are?"

"As you are, sir."

[that is good][,][am i right][?][that they are not demanding your wands][?]

[i think so] came the reply, as they all stood up and followed out the door.

The thin pirate lead them to a spartan stateroom, only slightly smaller than the officer's mess they'd waited in. A narrow bed and a small dresser took up the port side, and the entrance to what looked like a tiny washroom occupied the starboard wall. A table dominated the middle of the stateroom, and across from them a man stood, hunched over the table and studying a map. A black hat, folded on one side, hid his face.

The thin pirate stepped to once side they all entered, and then quietly cleared his throat.

The man behind the table – surely the captain – straightened up. He was very tall, with broad shoulders, and the dark blue overcoat he wore didn't quite close up in front, revealing a stained white shirt underneath. His hair was dark, coarse, unkempt, and fell nearly to his shoulders, and his thick beard and mustache had been twisted and waxed into an array of spikes. A nasty scar ran up the left side of his cheek almost to his nose, and as he straightened up he grasped an elaborately-carved cane topped by a large, pale, and flawless crystal.

"So you lot are the reason we were forced to deal gently with a ship of smugglers and collaborators?" he asked, his deep bass voice a growl, his blue eyes boring into them.

An uneasy silence was his only reply.

Except that, while Jason was at the back of the group and couldn't see anyone's face, he did catch Viscount Wardes' shoulders relaxing.

[your fiancé is too relaxed for this situation].[what is going on][?]

His little mistress twitched. Then she looked up and to her side. "Jean-Jacques, how do you know that this man is no danger to us?"

The Viscount glanced down at her and smiled. "Perceptive, little rose. Can you put it all together and tell me why we're in no danger?"

"I-" She turned back to stare at the pirate captain. "You haven't demanded our wands, and that's good, but-"

Louise broke off and shook her head. "I don't know."

"Pirates are unlikely to care if their prey is smuggling or collaborating, and at this date Reconquista would hardly need to employ such a ruse. But the critical datum is the identity of the man before us."

The pirate captain narrowed his eyes. "And who do you suppose that I am?"

"I thought that perhaps I recognized Prince Richard's steward, when he came out on deck," Viscount Wardes replied, nodding towards the thin pirate that still stood beside the door. "But I wasn't certain until I saw you." He paused. "Although the scar is hard to look past."

At the mention of the name 'Richard', Tabitha straightened slightly, and Louise gasped.

"You-?" She began, before pausing and trying again. "Prince Wales?"

A deep laugh erupted from the pirate captain. "Well reasoned, Jean-Jacques! You're the only one to ever penetrate my disguise." So saying, he reached up and peeled off the scar and the facial hair, tossing them – all connected by what looked like fake skin – onto the table, revealing a face that was clean-shaven, unlined, and surprisingly youthful. The hair followed next, the wig landing next to the false facial hair and revealing pale blond curls, cut very short.

The eyes remained the same.

He stepped back, then undid some sort of fastener under each shoulder of his cloak, and stepped forward out of his cloak and down – platform shoes, perhaps – uncovering a somewhat more slender frame that was no more than an inch or two taller than Kirche.

For herself, the redhead – who'd been glancing between him and Tabitha uncertainly – drew in a sudden breath. "Prince Wales?" she breathed, sounding both surprised and appreciative. "Truly?"

The revealed prince grinned charmingly at her. "Wales Tudor of Albion, at your service."

Tudor? As in the English dynasty Tudors? Oh, what we wouldn't give for Wikipedia access right now.

"Called the Valiant, these days," Viscount Wardes added drily. "Ever since you rallied the fleet when Prince Henry fell, and became First Admiral of Albion."

"As mage titles go, I can't say I'm ashamed of it," Prince Wales acknowledged. "Although I'd give it up in a heartbeat to bring my brothers back. But I'm no longer an Admiral: This ship is all that's left of the loyalist fleet. Reconquista was thorough in preparing for this final uprising, and the ships that weren't seized by traitors have been grounded. Some by sabotage, some by threats to the towns that harbor them, some by – no matter. We are all that is left.

"So, what brings you to my troubled nation, Jean-Jacques? Or you, Louise? I fear that soon, the White Isle will no longer be a fitting place for ladies to visit."

He couldn't see her expression, but from her slump Jason could imagine the unhappy set of her features. But then his little mistress set her shoulders, and spoke:

"I have a message for you. One that I must relay in private."

"Have you?" the prince breathed. "And I can guess, but . . . Geoffrey, please show our other guests back to the mess. I'm sure they've missed luncheon in the excitement of today."

"Very good, sir," the steward replied. "Milord, miladies, if you will follow me?"

The group – all save Louise – began to file out the door, Jason once again taking up the last place.

But before he could exit: "Wait!" she cried. "Jason, I want you to stay."

Her sudden decision came as a surprise, although hardly a displeasing one. To him. Viscount Wardes, as he suddenly whirled around, looked quite displeased.

"Little rose!" the Viscount began in tones of admonition and reproach, "this is a private audience with royalty! You cannot think to-"

Louise started to quail, but then glanced at her familiar and rallied. "Jason was present when I received my errand, Jean-Jacques. He's entrusted with the success of my task, just as you're entrusted with my safety."

Her fiancé's nostrils flared, and for a moment the man looked . . . but then he nodded curtly. "Indeed. By your leave, Your Highness."

Prince Wales looked rather bemused, but nodded, and the Viscount marched off, followed by Kirche, Tabitha, and Geoffrey the steward.

Once they were gone, and the remaining three were alone in the stateroom, the prince began chuckling. "You're grown up, Louise. I would never have thought to hear you disagree with Jean-Jacques, the way you used to worry over his regard as a child."

"If he wouldn't keep treating me as a child," she muttered, flushing.

"I'm sure he still remembers you from when your families negotiated the engagement. You were only six, and he was about as old as you are now, wasn't he?" Prince Wales shook his head, smiling in fond memory. "As a grown man of ten, the last thing I wanted was to languish in the company of a pair of children, but then he spent time with us, and I was struck with hero worship."

Louise blinked. "You . . . I'd forgotten you were there that time, along with Princess Henrietta."

He laughed again. "You were so focused on him, I'm not surprised. And when he wasn't spending time with you, I was doing my best to remain in his company." The prince shook his head again. "After that, I was determined to become a Captain of Dragons, so I could be as much like Jean-Jacques as possible. I didn't give that up until Richard died, and Henry became the Heir, and then I was the spare that had to be protected."

"I was sorry to hear of your brothers' deaths," she replied, frowning. "Those were sorrowful days."

"Indeed they were. I was touched by your letters of condolence, and I thank you for them." Prince Wales then breathed in. "But who is this large fellow, who you say safeguards your task? A half-Germanian by-blow of de Vallière? Or de Maillart, perhaps, as your mother's family is not nearly as prominent."

Louise opened her mouth, but hesitated.

For quite a long moment.

His Highness's eyebrows climbed up as the silence stretched out.

Finally, Jason got tired of waiting. [is he a childhood friend][?]

She twitched. [yes][,][but he did not visit as often as henrietta]

[nonetheless][,][a friend is a friend].[may i][?]

[very well]

"It's quite a bit more complex than that, Your Highness." He smiled lopsidedly. "I'm not Louise's relative, no matter how distant. I'm not Germanian, either, I'm actually from much farther away. I'm her familiar."

The prince blinked several times. "Her . . . what manner of ill-thought jest is this?!"

"It's no jest, Your Highness!" Louise protested. "Jason truly is my familiar. Professor Colbert at the Academy conducted the Rite, and he didn't believe it, but he cast the spell to verify three times, and each casting confirmed it!"

"Humans aren't familiars," Prince Wales declared, frowning heavily. "This must be some-"

"No it's not!" she snapped. "You know I couldn't manage so much as cantrip as a child. And every approach I tried as a First Form failed, too. But after I summoned Jason my magic finally started working. I know several cantrips, now, and I'm getting closer to being able to cast Ignite."

"That's-" The blond prince broke off, blinking again. "Shouldn't having a familiar have strengthened your magic more than that?"

Louise scowled. "It should," she muttered, "but my magic is awry, and each spell takes far more practice than it ought. But still, I can cast spells now! And he's a lot more clever than he looks, so he's been far more helpful than you'd expect from a mere commoner."

"Thanks," Jason said with a touch of irony. He looked to the still-bemused prince. "If it helps, you can think of me as her secretary-tutor. We haven't discovered any auxilia beyond a gift of translation that allows me to speak any language Louise knows, so the help I've been able to give her has mostly been to look at things from a foreign perspective and offer guesses when conventional approaches fail."

"And his guesses have worked," she confirmed. "Often enough, at least. But," she paused, looking hesitant again, "I haven't told Jean-Jacques yet. So . . . don't bring it up, please?"

Prince Wales looked even more bemused. "I suppose I can see how that would be awkward," he allowed. "But it's wonderful to hear that you can finally cast, and if your . . . Jason has helped with that-"

"He has!"

"-Then I shall not quibble. Even if this does seem rather Germanian in its unconventionality."

Louise grimaced. "Yes, a human familiar is unconventional. We're not even certain what element he represents! I've thought of trying the others again, but it would be best for me to complete Ignite and confirm myself as a Dot of Fire before classes resume. And I nearly didn't summon him at all! It was my fourth attempt."

"Your fourth-" The prince broke off and whistled. "After so many tries, I can see why you'd be satisfied with any familiar, even one without an element." He shrugged. "As I said, I'll not quibble. And I don't mind the visit, now that we've turned away the ship trying to bring sulfur to Reconquista, but you didn't come all this way to show off your familiar."

"No, I didn't," she agreed, shaking her head. "I . . . have something for you. From Princess Henrietta."

"As I thought." His Highness smiled sadly. "And how is my cousin doing, in these uncertain times?"

She returned the smile, just as sad. "Well enough. I know she misses you."

"Mm. Those were happier days, when the heavy wind of fate did not bear down upon us all." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Well, I suppose I should see what my dear cousin has sent me."

Louise nodded, pulled out the letter that Her Highness had entrusted to her, and offered it to the blond prince.

Prince Wales took it from her, and held the seal next to the gem of the ring that he was wearing. After a brief moment of concentration, both the gem and the seal began to glow faintly.

"This letter was indeed sealed with the Ring of Water, and untouched since. Well done, Louise de la Vallière. You've been a true friend to both Tristain and Albion." So saying, he opened the letter and began to read.

And stopped after about a minute. He took a deep breath, and looked up from the missive. "We've heard rumors, but received no official announcement before Reconquista rose up again and cut us off from the continent. Henrietta is to marry, truly?"

Louise nodded. "I'm sorry."

He took another deep breath. "We do what we can to serve our nations, as Brimir charged us long ago. Sometimes we are even permitted to succeed. I refuse to be angry with Her Highness for enjoying greater success than I." He looked down again and continued reading.

The prince looked up again once he finished the letter. "She asks that I return something she lent me, and I agree, it must be returned before the rebels overcome us entirely. However, I left it in Newcastle for safekeeping. I would prefer not to expose you to danger, but I have no other courier I can spare that I might trust to make it through the blockade. Despite the danger, will you come with me to retrieve it?"

She nodded again. "We'd already planned to sneak through to Newcastle, before your Eagle intercepted us. So we'll do what we must do."

Prince Wales nodded. "I expected nothing else. And I shall be glad of your company one last time, as a reminder of happier days. But, your . . . familiar is limping. I hope my crew weren't the ones responsible for that."

This time Louise shook her head. "We rode from the Academy to La Rochelle in one day, and he was badly out of practice. Jean-Jacques treated his sores, but we didn't have any potions, and I didn't find the time to Mix up a salve to help them heal faster."

And as it happens, we do have a potion that'll work just fine, but it'd have been overkill. But Jason hadn't ever mentioned acquiring it to his little mistress, and it didn't seem like the best time to bring it up, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Well, we can't have that!" Prince Wales declared. "Especially since the danger of your journey will not be over until you leave these troubled skies. Reconquista will not be so amenable to clever words as we were!"

"You have a medico?" Jason asked, before shaking his head. "Wait, this is a warship in the middle of a war. Of course you have one."

The prince shot him a sharp look. "No, we don't," he admitted. "We see combat every day, often more than once, and any medico would be overwhelmed trying to treat our injured."

"Uh, you do?" Which made sense of the ragged clothing of the sailors, if they were battle-damaged and perhaps being cannibalized for bandages, but in that case . . . "One ship against half your fleet, and you're still flying?"

Prince Wales nodded, and smiled proudly. "I daresay we're now the best crew in Albion, after so much battle. Certainly the most seasoned! But Reconquista's crews have never fought well, and we have done our best to take advantage of that."

Jason blinked. "Oh. Oh, of course. Purging unreliable crew and officers, resulting in a drop of skill and camaraderie. Or political officers who hunt for royalist sympathies, real or imagined. Likely both."

"There've been rumors of the zeal of their chaplain-quesîtors," the prince replied with a raised eyebrow. "Your speculation may well be accurate.

"He is clever," His Highness continued, but to Louise. "I see why you value his counsel."

She nodded, smiling. Then she asked, "If you don't have a medico, do you have healing potions? Did you stockpile enough reagents, somehow?"

"We did, until the prices climbed too high out of scarcity," came the reply. "But the casualties we've taken have drained that stockpile alarmingly, so we've devised an alternative potion that partakes of Air, rather than Water."

So saying, the prince walked over to the dresser next to his bed, and bent over for a moment, rummaging through the content until he retrieved a small vial. Then he straightened up and Levitated it – without words or any waving of his cane-wand, but if Air was his country's specialty than it made sense for him to have thoroughly mastered so useful a cantrip – into Jason's hand. "As I said, it's of Air, not Water, so you breathe in the vapor rather than drinking anything."

"Thank you, Your Highness." The vial was rather light, which made sense if the contents were gaseous. He raised it to his mouth, popped the stopper-

"You're welcome, but you should-"

-And breathed in the contents.

"-kneel, first."

The reason for Prince Wales' belated warning became instantly apparent, as Jason began to experience the biggest coughing fit he'd ever suffered. The inhaled vapor seemed to cling to his windpipe, and the instinct of his body to get it out, out, OUT! resulted in deep, wracking coughs that felt like he was trying to expel his very lungs.

He barely even noticed when he toppled to the ground, or curled up in a fetal position, as the massive coughing fit continued.

And continued.

He could hardly breathe, and it seemed like his vision was starting to go gray around the edges, but he was tearing up so badly that he wasn't sure . . . and it was all but impossible to think while the great, hacking coughs went on.

And on.

For what felt like an eternity.

Until they suddenly cut off.

He lay there, gasping, taking in great draughts of air, still unable to focus on anything but the contents of his lungs.

But then someone was kneeling next to him, and a cloth was wiping away the moisture from his eyes, and soon he was able to look up and recognize his little mistress's concerned face.

"Thank you, Louise," Jason rasped. "I'm . . . I think I'm fine, now."

"Not quite," came Prince Wales' amused voice, "but you will be by the time we reach Newcastle. Even your sore throat: The vapors will work their effect on every injury in your body over the next few hours."

"That wasn't funny!" his little mistress snapped, her wand-hand twitching.

"No?" The prince smiled as Jason painfully got to his feet. "Every crewman, every officer of the Eagle – even myself! – have used this new potion, and suffered its effects. The body reacts to the vapor as if it were smoke or worse, but it will not be ejected, and so the irritation continues until the lungs absorb it. It's best to relax and not give in to urge to cough, but that takes practice."

"You know that, do you?" Jason rasped.

"Oh, yes," Prince Wales confirmed emphatically, with a challenging smile. "I'm too valuable in combat to avoid fighting when we face Reconquista ships, and I was the one to prove that one can endure the irritation without coughing."

"Right." Did you think to out-badass a prince-turned-raider or something? Idiot. "Your Highness, I hope you'll forgive me if I wish never to take such a potion again."

The prince laughed. "It's an unrefined recipe, devised in desperation. But the wounded can take it before bed, and rise again in the morning, able to do battle if the previous day's injuries weren't too severe. And it requires little more than windstone as a catalyst, so our potioneers can prepare as much as is needed."

"And he'll be fine, soon?" Louise demanded.

"No trace of his injuries by the time we're feasting tonight in Newcastle, may Brimir forsake me if I lie." Prince Wales smiled once more. "But for now, let us repair to the officers' mess, and see what Geoffrey has arranged for luncheon."

She nodded, and they swept out of the room, and Jason lurched along after them.

Lunch was fish, of some variety that he was unfamiliar with, seasoned with what he was pretty sure was ground-up seaweed. It was surprisingly edible.

"Twilight sturgeon?" Prince Wales asked his steward, as soon as the plates were served. "When did we drop low enough for fishing?"

"This morning, sir, when the clouds weren't more than a few dozen paces above the waves," Geoffrey replied in his impeccably classy received pronunciation. It was actually a little funny that the translation auxilum had decided that the servant's way of speaking was to be represented as the epitome of English accents, rather than the prince's, but Jason manfully suppressed his snicker of amusement. "They were leaping, and Mister Errol applied his usual deft touch with his wand."

"Ah. It is that time of the year, I suppose."

"Yes, sir." The steward went around the table, filling every glass (including Jason's), before withdrawing.

Prince Wales waiting until he'd left before smiling ruefully. "Geoffrey's a treasure, and we wouldn't be doing nearly as well without him helping everyone make do, but Merciful Brimir he can be intimidating. Still, I know he misses Richard, so I don't complain."

"You didn't notice dropping almost to the surface?" Kirche asked. "They say there are sea monsters, this far out in the ocean!"

"We'd happened upon what we thought was a lone frigate, and were nearly ambushed before we disengaged and fled to the shelter of the nearest clouds. I was in my stateroom after that, going over what we knew of Reconquista's positions, trying to decide where we'd strike next." The prince looked over to one of the officers in the now-crowded mess. "Then Lieutenant William caught the smell of sulfur on the wind, and we went hunting."

A weathered-looking lieutenant smiled and nodded at the acknowledgment.

"You, have practiced," Tabitha observed softly. "The clouds, using them to close."

"With but one ship we can hardly do anything else, Dame Tabitha, if we wish to fight on our own terms," Wales replied. "But they've been learning from us, so we shall likely have to devise another expedient."

He smiled crookedly. "That's what we've had to do throughout this final uprising. We're outnumbered and nearly all the ports have fallen, and the only thing that's kept the Eagle flying has been Reconquista's lack of experience against raids. The battles in the previous uprisings were all fleet against fleet."

"And what shall you do once you've taught Reconquista all your ploys and stratagems, your Highness?" Viscount Wardes asked.

"By then, I'll hopefully have brought some of the fleet back under Royal control. With this sulfur we've seized, we can grind gunpowder, and then try to lift the blockade on some of the ports that aren't yet firmly under Reconquista's control."

"And recruiting their ships, I presume." The Viscount frowned, looking intent. "Do you think a squadron of warships will make the difference against the uprising?"

"It means the difference between some hope and none at all," the prince replied.

Immediately, protests came from all the officers in the room.

Prince Wales waited until they'd calmed down. "Although my companions insist otherwise, of course. But . . . if we fail to harry the Reconquista fleet, they won't merely blockade Newcastle, but storm it and destroy the last bastion of active Royalists. And they are learning our stratagems, and becoming wise to them: One ship will not be enough to keep their fleet off balance for much longer. But if I command a squadron – if the people hear that the Valiant is rallying the fleet once more, as I did when Henry was slain – then the momentum of this rebellion will shift, and Brimir willing we shall prevail."

Wardes looked thoughtful. "That may work. But you still assume much on the strength of a handful of liberated ships, especially having taught Reconquista what you have of your strategems thus far."

"I know," the prince replied. "Our situation will still be desperate." Then he bared his teeth. "But in our desperation we've been forced to learn how to improvise, and I've already considered stratagems that we might employ, once I've more ships under my command. Desperate or not, this is our only hope of victory."

"Desperate improvisation can lead to surprising results, I admit," the Viscount replied, smiling. "One time, in a skirmish on a beach – do not ask where, I cannot divulge that – I ended up in a battle for dominance between myself, an Earth mage, and a Water mage. They had the sand and the water, and I the air, but I found to my dismay that where sand and water met, the resulting mud could be controlled by either of my opponents. Whereas I could drive the water and blow the sand as I wished, but that mud was much harder to influence.

"Fortunately, neither of them had spells specifically for mud. We ended up very filthy, all three of us, and the battle ended in an effective draw when the tide began to come in." He leaned back in his chair. "It was a lesson that the Gryphon Knights taught, but we could only truly learn through experience: Always be ready to adapt to the circumstances at hand."

"You've been fortunate!" Kirche put in, looking disgruntled. "I lost a year before I could attend the Tristain Academy. All that time, wasted!"

"Indeed?"

"Mother's has traditional Imperial beliefs, and Father tried to defer to her until I insisted otherwise."

"Ahhhh." Viscount Wardes inclined his head sympathetically. "I've had occasion to learn of Easterling customs. You have my sympathy, Miss Zerbst."

"It wouldn't have mattered, if the Academy had let me go straight to Second Form, but they said I needed to have mastered more cantrips! As if a Zerbst would live or die by her cantrips!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I've found them to be of use, myself. There's always opportunity for those with talent, but focusing on a single element, especially when your family is already well-known for Fire, can be hazardous. You would find yourself in dire straits were a Water mage to have prepared in advance for you. Even a single bucket of water would grant him a notable advantage."

"Water turns to steam easily enough!"

"Perhaps. But then you have given your foe water that is scalding hot to fight with. Steam may be moved around nearly as readily as air, so how would you respond when your foe surrounded you with the steam you so graciously provided?"

"I-" Kirche's mouth gaped open, before she straightened up. "I'd have Tabitha with me to clear away the steam. She already knows a spell for that, even!"

Tabitha nodded. "Useful, very. Clears air."

"Truly," Wardes agreed. "Purging Vortex – I know it myself – can be used to counter nearly any attack that puts something hazardous into the air. Nonetheless, Miss Zerbst, you're now relying on Dame Tabitha to win your fights, rather than yourself."

There was a subdued chuckle from the around the table as Kirche's tanned face flushed crimson.

"Are all Wind mages like you and Kaita the Gust?" she demanded, eyes blazing. "So certain you can sweep up everything and turn it into your own weapon?!"

The Vscount frowned. "Kaita . . . the duelist professor we spoke of, a few days ago?"

"Zerbst was one of the students he trounced, too," Louise added in dulcet tones, clearly enjoying her rival's discomfiture.

"Ah." Viscount Wardes nodded. "But yes, that is rather the question, when Air and Fire oppose each other. Is the fire strong enough to feed on the air, or will the wind overwhelm and snuff out the flames?

"And it is one of the common tactics for Wind mages: Anything that can be swept up can be turned into a weapon at the mage's disposal. But Fire does permit a trick that is not dissimilar."

"It does?" In no time at all, Kirche had dropped her glare and smiled invitingly at the older mage.

"Indeed, albeit not one that your family is famous for. It is a tool of some subtlety."

She laughed. "You're right! Zerbsts don't like subtlety. But how does it work? Just in case I need it, sometime."

Viscount Wardes smiled again (and Louise frowned to see them smiling at each other). "It's a simple matter of realization: When flames are absorbed into something, it heats up . . . and that heat is still governed by Fire."

His smile widened as Kirche suddenly looked very thoughtful. "I'm told that it's not an easy technique to learn – that it's much simpler to merely produce more fire with the next spell – but if your fire turns a bucket of water into steam, then it's possible with the correct spell to command that steam yourself! And because you are the one with the fire, and you are the one who will choose when you cast, then with sufficient study you can learn to chain the commanding spell after whatever fire elementari you cast, and seize control of the combined elements – Fire-in-Water, Fire-in-Earth, even Fire-in-Air – before your foe has time to react."

Her eyes gleamed, and her smile also widened, into a toothy grin. "Well, I see that I shall have something to pursue this autumn."

"Let us hope that we all shall be busy with our pursuits this autumn," Wales said.

His statement was followed by a murmur of agreement from the rest of the table, and then everyone busied themselves with eating.

The floating island of Albion was larger upon the horizon when they left the mess and headed up to the deck, but they were clearly still some ways off from it.

Sylphid trilled an excited "Kyuu!" to Tabitha as she landed next to her mistress and happily nuzzled the tiny azuretop. Which was quite adorable to watch, except that it resonated painfully with his enforced separation from Louise, so Jason turned his attention away.

Three of the officers who they'd eaten with moved to the prow of the Eagle, and began casting spells with practiced ease. The result was a peculiar shimmer of air in front of them, and the officer in the middle peered at it closely, his head moving this way and that for several seconds, before he stiffened and became very still.

Prince Wales had also been paying attention to what the officers were doing. "Lieutenant Collins!" he called out. "What's the word?"

The three canceled their spells, and turned to report. "The Lexington is besieging Newcastle, sir!" the middle officer barked out. "And I thought I saw other ships keeping station with her. Could be half the Reconquista fleet!"

"Void Above!" the prince swore, albeit softly enough that only those close to him could hear. "They wasted no time reporting that we'd been driven off, Hel take them!" he continued, this time loud enough for everyone to hear. "But if those Brimir-forsaken traitors think they can take Newcastle while holding us off, they'll soon learn otherwise. The last thing they learn, aye?"

The crew responded with savage shouts of agreement as Wales strode to the helm, and gave the helmsman a crisp set of orders. Which resulted in the Eagle turning slightly, pointing towards a different part of the floating island, and picking up speed.

Sylphid trilled in dismay, and the young dragon hunkered down to the deck as the ocean air whistled past them at what felt like forty miles and hour or more. The crew all went inside, save one officer who moved to the helm and cast a spell which caused the moving air to die down around him and the helmsman.

"Come back below deck!" Prince Wales called out as he rejoined the group of passengers. "We shall need to make all speed until we reach the White Isle."

Jason waited until they were out of the wind and the hatch closed. "The mages have all gone to keep the windstones renewed, right?" he then asked.

The prince gave him a sharp look, but then nodded. "Yes, and I shall have to join them forthwith."

"Which will make them exhausted, so how are you going to fight your way through the Reconquista fleet when we approach Newcastle?"

[i told you to stop asking questions][!]

True, she had. And a glance over to Louise showed that she was looking strained, and Wardes was looking annoyed.

Still, Prince Wales only smiled. "An excellent question! We'll be in no shape to fight after this flight until we've rested, that's for sure and certain. For the rest . . . see if you can't reason it out by the time we arrive."

Jason nodded, and the prince strode off.

They found themselves back in the officers' mess, it having been cleaned up after lunch, but then Wardes took Louise off for a tour of the Eagle.

"And once again, the leftovers find themselves discarded. Are you two sure this is what you wanted?" Jason asked.

Tabitha, head already buried in her book, just shrugged.

Kirche tossed her head. "It's been interesting so far," she counted, then gave a sultry smile. "And that handsome prince, surround by a crew of only men. How lonely he must be!"

He snorted. "Good luck with that. You heard that he plans to wear himself out to get back to Newcastle."

"But he'll be recovered by tomorrow!" she countered. Then sighed. "But you're probably right about it being boring for the rest of the afternoon. Everyone will be too busy to keep me entertained."

"Chatrang."

The single word came from behind Tabitha's book.

"What was that?" he asked. It wasn't a word he'd ever heard, so his auxilum was hiccuping again, but that was another secret he didn't want Louise's rival to discover-!

"Chatrang," the azuretop repeated. This time she raised her wand, and a wooden box Levitated down from a shelf onto the table, between Jason and Kirche.

"I didn't notice that!" the redhead announced, sounding suddenly pleased. She pulled out her wand and Levitated the box open, producing a board that looked decidedly chess-like. Although the playing pieces weren't the towers/horsemen/miters that were typical of modern Terran chessmen.

"Has your master introduced you to chatrang?" Kirche asked with a smile, as she arranged the pieces. Eight identical pieces in front, various others in back – yeah, it looked a lot like an analog to chess.

"No, although I may have played something similar," Jason replied cautiously. "Show me the rules as we go along?" Because even if it was this world's equivalent, hadn't the rules changed over the years? Or by regions, even, cause didn't the Japanese have their own version of chess? Shogi, or something like that?

"I suppose I'd better, if I want a good game," she agreed. "These pieces in front are the padati, they can move . . ."

"Checkmate," Jason calmly announced. Which he could, because chatrang was damned close to chess, and his auxilium turned out to be willing to cooperate once the rules had been explained. "That's two and two. Shall we have a tiebreaker game?"

Kirche glared down at the board. "You have no flair in your strategies! What's the point of playing if you're going to be boring about it?!"

"Uh, to win. If you want to be exciting, play a game that's about doing, rather than thinking."

She made a frustrated sound, then looked over to Tabitha. "Here, you play him. See how that boring style of his fares against you!"

The azuretop looked up from her book, giving a considering look to Jason, and then to the board.

She opened her mouth to say something, but at that exact moment the door slammed open and Louise stomped inside.

Her face was a deeper shade of red than her pink hair, and she was trembling in a way that by now he could tell meant that she was mad as hell and doing her best not to cry.

Which meant in turn that she needed a hug, but in front of- Ah, hell with it.

[need a hug][?]

She stopped dead, glared at him . . . then took a deep breath. "Come with me!"

So he followed her out of the room.

"Having fun, were you?" Louise growled as she led him down a passage.

"Passing the time. Annoying Kirche with how I play chess. Or chatrang as it's called around here. My style frustrates her."

"Hmph. It's a Germanian game, so unsuited to true nobility."

"Uh-" Wait, maybe it's better to let that pass without comment.

Then she turned into an empty room, and when he followed she flung herself into his arms, where she trembled and buried her head into his chest.

[what is wrong][,][little mistress][?]

[its jean jacques].[he wants me to leave the academy and come to the palace][,][and he says i could study with henrietta]

"And that's a bad thing?" Jason murmured uncertainly. Sure, from his perspective it was awful, but for Louise wouldn't it be grand to-?

She wiped her eyes on his shirt, then looked up. "He's lying!" she hissed, albeit quietly. "She's too far ahead of me, it'd be useless for tutors to try to teach us together. He knows that! I wouldn't get to learn anything!"

"Oh."

"And he didn't say it, but he was hinting that a captain can perform marriages!"

A sudden chill seemed to almost freeze Jason's heart. But if the tacit proposal was making her upset, then . . . "And that's-?"

Louise buried her head back into his chest. "He doesn't care that I can finally learn magic!" she wailed (albeit however muffled). "He thinks I won't ever catch up, so I might as well stop trying and go lie in a bower!"

"So, that's a 'not yet'? It's your choice, right? He can't make you marry him until you're ready, correct?"

"If he writes my parents and asks them to counsel me-" She broke off, and wiped her eyes on his shirt again. "I told him I wasn't leaving the Academy, and then it was all about how I didn't want him after all, and-"

She broke off again, sighing. "I had to leave before I drew my wand on him. He'll be along to apologize soon, I'm sure. Once he realizes his error."

Louise squeezed Jason as hard as she could, then let go. "Thank you for listening. I know Mother says marriage is about working together despite your problems, but . . . it's good to know someone's always there for me."

With that she was out the door, leaving him staring after her.

"Did you just . . . dammit, don't friendzone me!" he snarled.

Quietly, though.

He'd just about made it back to the mess when Prince Wales appeared.

"Ah, familiar!" the man said, looking tired but satisfied. "Have you puzzled out the riddle of our approach to Newcastle?"

Jason shook his head. "You've got to have some way of sneaking past the blockading fleet. Exactly what, though, I don't know."

"You're right, as far as that goes," His Highness replied, smiling. "Come up on deck and see!"

So he did, and Kirche and Tabitha followed.

The ship had come to a stop not a hundred yards from Albion, and very close to the base. The floating island was now utterly enormous, stretching across their field of view beyond what they could see, a floating continent that seemed to have no end. And below them, clouds billowed out from beneath the White Isle, a constant eruption of fluffy white.

It was utterly unlike anything Jason had ever seen in real life, and enough to give him a dizzying sense of vertigo that had him grabbing the nearest wall to keep from stumbling.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Prince Wales commented. "They say that all the clouds of Halkagenia come from beneath the White Isle."

"Do they?" Jason frowned thoughtfully. "Clouds form naturally, though. Where I'm from they appear without any floating islands to create them."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it's a function of natural philosophy. If you heat up water then tiny portions will be drawn up into the air, and eventually you get clouds and rain. But Albion's presence . . . does the underside get cold?"

"It does," came the voice of his little mistress. Apparently Louise had come up onto the deck herself afterward. "Go under far enough and you can find icicles. They're valuable reagents for some spells and potions, since they're formed by the magic of the White Isle."

"But dangerous to harvest," Prince Wales noted, nodding. "Lights don't work well in the dense clouds underneath, and the wind can become very turbulent."

"With all the windstones there, that's not surprising. But the cold underside of Albion cools the warmer ocean air, bringing the water out as clouds and rain, which dries the air out . . ." Jason blinked. "You know, I'll bet that the most important thing the White Isle does is to make it hard for hurricanes to form nearby during summer and fall."

"Sadly, no." The prince shook his head. "At least once a generation, a typhoon crashes into Halkagenia, devastating all in its path until it's worn away by wind mages working to unravel it."

"Once a generation?"

"Sometimes twice, yes. Although I hear they're far more likely to rise up from the torrid zone and strike the Romalian Principalities."

Jason laughed. "Then Albion probably is protecting Halkagenia, at least on this side. Without it, such storms can happen a dozen times a year, and each year a few would hit land and bring devastation."

"Each year?" Prince Wales repeated in disbelief.

"That's what happens, where I'm from. Not every place gets hit every year, but each town along the coast can expect a hurricane about one year in four. And in some unlucky towns, almost every year."

The prince looked over to Louise. "Is your man jesting?"

She shook her head. "No. He says the most incredible things sometimes, but when he talks like this he's being serious, and telling the truth as he believes it."

"Hurricanes need warm, wet air to form and strengthen," Jason explained. "And warm air wants to rise, while cool air wants to fall. These clouds below us, constantly billowing out? That's the cooler air being pushed aside by the sun-warmed ocean air as it rises up. And during summer the wind wants to blow from the ocean towards the land, so the clouds all tend to head that way, and that removes some of the wet air that would otherwise strengthen a hurricane-"

He paused for a moment. "And I think I remember Captain Tiago – the captain of the Marie Galante – saying something about a 'launch window' and running out of windstones. So does that mean Albion moves up and down the coast of Halkagenia?"

"Yes, the White Isle drifts north and south, as the wind dictates." Prince Wales looked bemused. "What you say is not contrary to the laws of Air, but I've never come across such speculation." He shook his head. "In any event, now that you've seen where we are, what's your answer to the riddle of our approach to Newcastle?"

"Uh-" Jason looked around again. "I don't see any ships nearby, so we've avoided the Reconquista fleet so far. Which means we haven't run the blockade yet. So . . . go deep enough into the clouds that we can't be seen, fly as close as we can to Newcastle, then rise up and sprint to safety before the blockade can react?"

The prince smiled, but shook his head again. "Well-thought, but no. It's a ploy that can work, but it's too well known, and the blockade will be watching specifically for that. We would have to be truly desperate to attempt it. Would you like another guess?"

Jason looked around again. "I don't see any openings in the cliff we're floating next to. But an obvious tunnel wouldn't work, so . . . is there an illusion covering a secret tunnel?"

His Highness's smile broadened. "No, such an illusion would have long since been discovered."

"Then I'm at a loss, or at least missing some key element."

"The Royal spells of Air," came Viscount Wardes' voice. It was on the sour side, but the man's face was a neutral mask as he approached the prince, the commoner, and his fiancée. "Only the Crown can chart the safer routes to the underside ice, and so only the Crown could chart safe passages through the underside clouds to move between your strongholds." He looked around. "We're far enough from Newcastle that no fleet could enforce a blockade wide enough to cover this entrance to your hidden route. And I doubt it's the only one."

"Precisely!" Prince Wales laughed. "And on your first guess, too! Or did you already know?"

"The harvesting rights to the underside ice are a lucrative source of revenue for the Crown. I would be a fool if I'd not wondered what other secrets of the underside that your family might have also sought out." The Viscount's lips turned up in a small, but undeniable smirk. "And in my service to the Throne of Tristain, I have reason to ponder methods of escape, should it come to the worst."

"True, true." The prince paused, and then continued with a more serious expression. "And now I fear I must impose upon you, and upon Dame Tabitha as well."

"To sheathe our wands during the passage?" Wardes replied. "I think we both understand the need."

"We do, yes," the azuretop confirmed, looking up from her book and stepping over to the prince. "Where to, are we to, stand?"

"With me, close enough to the helm that we'll see each other, far enough that his course changes won't be obvious."

She nodded, and the three wind mages walked over towards the helm, stopping several paces away, where Sylphid lay down next to them. Kirche, who'd remained silent through the exchange – the natural philosophy of Air was apparently of no interest to her – joined them.

"I'm guessing they've got some way to spy out this route we'll be taking?" Jason asked Louise, very quietly. For while his little mistress had eyed her rival, when the redhead moved to remain in the company of her fiancé, she'd tossed her pink tresses, given said fiancé a bit of a stink-eye, and remained next to her familiar.

And so she was available to nod and indulge his curiosity without censure. "The underside is uneven, but the air is turbulent, so if the Eagle is to stay hidden in the clouds we must cling to the underside as closely as the helmsman dares. Only the Throne of Air knows the spells to chart the underside safely, but any mage of Air might know spells to copy a safe route if they're brought along."

"Ah."

Prince Wales called out an order to his helmsman, and the Eagle descended into the clouds. They were nothing more than a cool vapor blowing past the ship at first, barely obscuring of the sky around them. But then the Eagle began to move forward towards the cliff face of Albion, and as they passed underneath the sunlight was cut off, leaving them in shadows that quickly deepened. A small golden light, coming from the direction of the helm, was their only light, and that grew ever more diffuse as the clouds thickened and thickened.

And as they moved deeper into the underside of the White Isle, the cool vapor crept down into a chill, and soon Louise's teeth were rattling.

[we need to get you inside] Jason sent to her.

[no, we] she began in reply. But then she paused for a long moment.

[you are small and slender][,][it is no shame to be cold]

He heard her take a deep breath at that, almost as if to begin some angry rebuttal. But then she let it out in a long-suffering sigh, and shifted until she was leaning against him.

[uh]

[hush].[jean jacques cant see us right now]

And isn't that an interesting thought. She was right, by now the fog on the deck was so thick that they couldn't see more than about ten feet away. So it was perfectly safe to wrap an arm around his little mistress and pull her a little closer. All in the name of helping keep her warm, of course.

They stood there for some indeterminate period of time, during which Jason was able to pretend that all was as it ought to be between the two of them. Foolish as it was.

[I am sorry you do not get along with jean jacques]

And there Louise went, ruining the moment. But at least she wasn't moving away. Not yet.

[finding out was a surprise][,][but right now i cannot complain about the company]

There was a pause. Then: [what about zerbst][?][enjoying her company too][?]

Shit, is she still annoyed about us playing the local version of chess? [if i need a fight].[kirche is conflict][,][not company]

[what about]

But Louise didn't complete the thought. Instead she sighed again, turned enough put her arms around him, and buried her face in his chest.

And if he was a damn fool for allowing it, then he could hurt later. Right now it was time to be her damn fool.

A/N:

New Spells: Fortify the Weary – seems to be magical ibuprofen, caffeine, and vitamins in one tidy little package of vis.

Purging Vortex – clears the air.