Chapter Four:

The Yohimbe

…

The trip from Shady Creek Run to Zadash took eleven days, which managed to feel like the longest week and a half of Caleb's life. An impressive feat, considering he once spent eleven years voluntarily rotting in an asylum.

Molly rarely participated in conversation, Caleb didn't have enough gold to turn Frumpkin back into a cat, and Jester's sneeze from the Sour Nest has evolved into a head cold that could launch her into a shrill sneezing fit at the slightest provocation.

They encountered the Syphilis Bandits early on, who were dispatched easily, but in the process Beau took a pratfall in the mud and give herself a black eye on her own staff, sending her spiraling into an equally sour mood.

Caleb himself was less of a person per se and more of a bodiless spirit of misery who happened to dwell in thin bones and scraps of rags.

He was still weak-kneed and easily exhausted, so he spent the entire journey in the cart either clutching his knees to his chest in a raw panic or lying on his back and wallowing in despair.

They were supposed to get a mission from Ophelia, one that, if he played his cards right, could've funded his second jump back in time, but now everything had gone so, so wrong.

Now, he had approximately a month to make, find, or steal 500,000 gold pieces worth of diamonds or his calculations would be off. If his calculations were off, he'd run a greater risk of getting the timing wrong. If he got the timing wrong and landed too late...well.

That was the worst-case scenario.

Second worst was his current hell—stranded in the past with the pressure of having to secure an impossible fortune in a month or risk everything he'd ever worked for. He had thirty days to do a task that'd previously taken him sixteen years. He'd have to do something drastic to attain such wealth. Steal it probably.

Or die trying.

He wasn't sure how to sort dying on his worst-case-scenarios list. Pros to dying would be dying, cons to dying would be failing his mission. It was a mixed bag, really.

Where was that amount of wealth kept? Preferably in diamonds already, as he didn't have the contacts or time to liquidate that much stolen gold into diamonds.

Zadash had a bank.

He'd be robbing from the Empire, which was equal parts poetic and suicidal. Even if he wanted to let the rest of the Mighty Nein in on what he had planned, he doubted they'd help. Moral objections aside, again, trying to break into such a heavily fortified bank was signing your own death warrant or at least a lifetime of military and magical persecution.

So, the resources he had were: himself-a semi-powerful wizard, one not-cat, one transmuter's stone, and the clothes on his back.

So jack shit.

While Caleb mentally chewed on the idea of a bank heist, the Gentleman surveyed them from his high-backed chair, feet lazily reclined on the long mahogany table that separated him from the Mighty Nein.

Scarred patrons wandered the Evening Nip in aimless patterns, mumbling foreign tongues under their breaths and casting occasional glances in their direction. It appeared several of the musicians were missing that evening, leaving the lute and the drum to compensate for their absence. Though they tried, without someone playing the melody and countermelody, the music rang strange and hollow against the cobbled walls. Rain pounded on the building above in a fuzz of white noise.

Above them on the balcony several people huddled close in conversation, leaning on the rail. One caught Caleb's eye and flashed him a crooked grin. Caleb quickly averted his eyes and stared straight ahead. A single drop of water fell from the tip of the Gentleman's teal nose and splashed against the wood.

"Ophelia has always been a little feisty," he finally said, leaning forward with clasped hands, "Though she's made inquiries, I assure you she won't trouble you anymore while you're on business for me."

"And during the time we're not?" Caleb asked.

The Gentleman shrugged, looking him over casually. "Much like the relationship I have with you all, Ophelia and I are…business partners. What she does outside of that time is up to her discretion, unless it affects business, of course. Either way, perhaps it might be best to avoid her corner map for a little while, hm?"

Molly laughed mirthlessly. "Don't have to tell me twice," he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

"Indeed," the Gentleman said, raising a groomed eyebrow, "You'll understand, though, that completing only half the mission unfortunately only pays half the reward."

"Hey, wait a minute, she attacked us," Beau said and took a step forward.

Fjord put a hand on her shoulder. "At the time we…weighed our options and decided that having to capture her and drag her out of her estate all the way back to Zadash might be a little more trouble than either of us were prepared for," he said.

The Gentleman nodded. "A fair assessment, and I don't begrudge your call. That being what it is, an arrangement is an arrangement. Still, you have the full reward from your time in the Labenda Swamp, and even with half the reward from Shady Creek Run, that still works out to about 570 gold pieces per person. Don't spend it all in one place," he said with a grin as his goliath bodyguard emerged from the back room holding large satchels of gold.

Well, it was a start at least. Only 499,430 gold pieces left to go.

The bodyguard placed the gold on the table in front of them before stepping back behind the Gentleman. Nott reached for the closest bag, but the Gentleman lifted a hand to stop her.

"Before you retire for the evening, I understand you are likely tired from your travels, but I'd like you to hear out another proposition. I had some business come up recently, and though it's more of a pressing nature, I'm sure it could be worth your while," he said with a thin grin stretching his face.

Worth your while? That was good at least. Caleb looked to Fjord, who surveyed the group for a moment before nodding.

"Can't hurt us to hear it. Shoot," he said.

The Gentleman's grin deepened. "Excellent. What do you know of Ice Haven?" he asked.

"Alchemy," Nott said.

"Ice. Drugs," Beau said.

"Chocolate eggs," said Jester through sniffles.

"Seconding the drugs," added Molly.

"It's one of the bigger ports up north," Fjord said.

"Yeah, thirding drugs," said Yasha.

The Gentleman chuckled, goatee twitching. "Correct on all counts. The Countess of Ice Haven is one of my old acquaintances, but she's been… rather disagreeable as of late. Overeager in her expansion," he said. He pulled his feet off the table so he could lean forward in his seat, steepling his fingers before him and watching the Mighty Nein over their gloved points. "As the woman who has controlled half of the opium trade in and out of the Empire for the last seven years, you can see how this could be slightly problematic."

Caleb saw Fjord's lip twitch in discontent. This probably wouldn't be a fun, feel-good job. No orphans to save. But wherever there were drugs, there was money.

The Gentleman continued onwards, "Her aggressive expansion is beginning to draw the attention of the Empire. They're only willing to turn a blind eye to so much. The Empire investigating Ice Haven is bad for more than just the Countess. It's bad for anything and anyone else in Ice Haven the Empire deems illegal."

"Refugees, you mean, from the Empire's politics," Fjord clarified.

The Gentleman nodded. "Religious, political, cultural, Ice Haven is a place where people can escape the Empire's fist without losing its shield. I have several of my own business ventures set up there for that reason, but the increasing Empire presence is cutting into profits."

"You're not asking us to kick the Empire out of Ice Haven, are you?" Beau asked, eyes narrowed in skepticism.

The Gentleman laughed at that. "I believe that might be out of your current skill set, but if a time comes where that's within your abilities, let me know. I already have someone stationed there to deal with the problem. I'd like you to protect my agent, and if need be, assist them in their efforts. There is a rare opening in the Countess's security two and a half weeks from now, so you understand the urgency."

The Mighty Nein looked at each other in question.

"Yeah, what does it pay?" Caleb asked as he crossed his arms.

The Gentleman leaned forward on his hands. "A 1,000 gold piece advance with a 10,000 reward at the end upon a successful completion of the task."

Fjord whistled at that.

The Gentleman shrugged. "I have a lot of money invested in Ice Haven, and so far you all have proved your value. And like I mentioned previously, it's a time sensitive matter."

"So, if we accept what exactly does 'protecting your agent' entail?" Fjord asked, still blinking away the shock of the reward.

"My agent is the most accomplished person in the art of stealth and subterfuge this side of the Ashkeeper Peaks. You will face no opposition from the Empire or the Countess's own guard. However, Ice Haven is…a rough and tumble city, and seeing as my agent will often need to travel to the less reputable areas for supplies, you understand my concern. I'd hate for a plan this delicate to be undone by a random mugging. My agent is skilled, but a little on the fragile side," he said with a frown. "After they complete their task, they'll also need an escort back to Zadash."

"It seems reasonable, and the pay is good," Caleb whispered to Fjord.

The half-orc rubbed his chin. "Can you tell us a little more about what your agent is planning? We're not going to be like, helping poison the city's water supply, or anything, right?"

The Gentleman chuckled. "Nothing of the sort. I just need a vial of the Countess's blood," he said.

Nott's brows furrowed. "You know that almost makes me feel a little worse," Nott said, and Fjord nodded in agreement.

The Gentleman leaned back again, resting his arms on his chair. "All I ask is that you make your decision tonight, that way if you refuse, I can continue looking for other options."

"Fair enough," Fjord said and picked up one of the sacks of coins. "We'll discuss it as a group for a moment if you don't mind," he said.

"By all means," the Gentleman said, gesturing towards an empty table in the back corner.

The Might Nein gathered the rest of their gold and headed for the round table in the back. Upon sitting Nott immediately dumped out her bag of gold. It sparkled in her large eyes and her slit pupils dilated hungrily as she gazed at the display.

Beau dropped her head onto the table with a hollow 'thud'. "Can we make this quick, I'm beat," she asked, voice muffled by the wood.

Beside her, Yasha nodded and broke into a large yawn.

"If we take this mission, we'll probably have to leave in the morning," Molly pointed out, leaning on his hand. "It won't leave us with much time to resupply in Zadash."

The party had gone straight to the Evening Nip after arrival to cash in on their missions, so they could afford a place to stay that night. Their impromptu departure from Shady Creek Run meant they had to pick up supplies where they could—mostly from the overpriced road merchants—along with buying more horses after so many of their original stock had been killed. Their pockets were full of nothing but lint and mothballs for most of the trip back until now.

Fjord sighed rubbing his forehead. "Molly has a point. It won't give us much time to shop. What do you guys think?"

"Sounds like a lot of fun," Jester said. "I have like a second cousin up there, you know. On my mother's side," she clarified. "I've never actually met her, but I'm sure she's super nice."

"If you haven't met her how do you know she's nice?" asked Nott, momentarily looking up from her stacks of gold.

"My mother—" Jester started.

"Can we please get back on topic? I think Beauregard has already fallen asleep, " Caleb said, nodding at the unconscious woman. Yasha elbowed her.

Beau jerked awake. "I'm up, I'm up."

"Anyways," began Caleb, "It sounds like an easy job, and it's a lot of money."

It wasn't nearly enough money, but it was a start while he figured out the logistics of robbing a bank.

"It is a lot of money," Fjord conceded with a nod.

"It'd put us about 2,000 gold pieces per person afterward, counting what we just got," Caleb said.

"I don't even know what I'd do with all of that," Beau said.

"What wouldn't you?" Molly asked with a grin, but there were still bags beneath his eyes and he wasn't reclining back in his chair like usual.

"You know that's a fair point," Beau said and looked to Fjord.

"The money's not the problem," Fjord said. "It's the timeline and the content I'm worried about. We're already dead beat from the last two, and we'd have to head right back out tomorrow. Plus this whole blood magic Countess thing." He said and ran a hand through his cropped hair. "We almost ended up in a real bad place last mission, I just wanna make sure we're not biting off more than we can chew here."

"I think you just don't want to go somewhere cold again, Fjord," Jester said, unable to keep her mirth from bubbling into a toothy smile.

"That is not the truth," he said, pointing at her with his index finger, "I have plenty of other, more valid reasons not to want to go to Ice Haven," he insisted. The rest of the party chuckled at that.

"Well, I say we go," Caleb said after the party quieted, "Beauregard can sleep on the way."

"And Caleb can shower when we get there," Beau shot back. Caleb paused for a moment, then gave a nod as he conceded to the insult.

"It's also far enough away that if Ophelia is still bent on causing trouble, we'll be out of reach for a while," Molly said, picking at a knot in the table with a clawed finger.

"Well then," Fjord said and put his hands on the table, "It kinda sounds like we've made a decision. Nott? Yasha?"

"If Caleb thinks it's a good idea, I think it's a good idea," Nott said, never taking her eyes off the gold she stacked. Caleb gave her an appreciative look anyways.

"It's fine with me. I don't mind the cold," Yasha said. "And if it starts looking like we're in over our heads, we leave."

Fjord sighed and pushed himself up, chair legs scraping the floor behind him. "Alrighty then, I guess I'll let the Gentleman know we've made a decision"

…

On the way to The Pillow Trove, the drizzle that dogged their steps from Shady Creek Run cracked open into a downpour.

They arrived in the lobby, each thirty pounds heavier from the sheer weight of the water they'd absorbed. Jester plodded over to the receptionist with several loud 'thwack' 'thwack' 'thwack's from her water-logged boots and grabbed them rooms for the evening. Molly walked over and put down an extra ten gold to upgrade Fjord and his room to a Lordly Suite.

"Alright, I know we're all exhausted," Fjord began as they trudged up the stairs.

"And soaking wet," Molly added.

"And soaking wet, yes," Fjord said with a nod, "But we've really got to make a game plan for tomorrow morning."

With resigned sighs, The Mighty Nein dragged themselves to Fjord and Molly's suite.

It was an expansive room with a recently lit hearth on the exterior wall next to the balcony entrance where dark rain still beat down on the city. As they stepped into the room the flickering embers sent their shadows playing across the ornate wallpaper like phantoms.

Molly shrugged off his rainbow coat and swung it around a chair back near the fire to dry, then began working on the laces of his boots. The rest of the Mighty Nein followed suit, draping their overcoats and capes near the fire and placing their boots in a little ring by the base.

Pulling pillows off the bed and lounge chair, they circled up on the floor near the fire with legs pilled in the center.

"Alright," Fjord began, rubbing his face, "So we definitely need to hit Pumat's tomorrow." Beau was already asleep against Jester while Nott nodded off leaning against Caleb's side. Fjord ignored them and continued. "Any other requests? We should probably aim to get out of here by—"

As Fjord went on Caleb's attention drifted to the fire and the boots circled around it. Seven pairs. Other people, other boots, would enter and leave their lives, but these first seven sitting there, soaking, leaning on each other…

Seven would become six, then seven again, then six, five, four…

Buried underground, burned to ash, lost on a battlefield under the weight of corpses, another buried…

Life had pulled chunks of him out with a dripping fist until not much else remained beside the absence of what used to be. He was a man full of exit wounds, the sides of which stopped bleeding long ago and crooked malformed scars grew instead. The gaping holes endured.

Being back here with seven boots felt like someone was trying to shove those hunks of his flesh back into his chest. But he was older now, as were his wounds, so the pieces didn't fit properly.

It was a cruel joke.

He swallowed hard. The flames continued their aimless dance.

It would probably be like this when he jumped back again. Likely even worse. His life had been defined by that specific tragedy he sought to prevent. That purpose was the glue that strung his shattered pieces together.

What would he do after he succeeded?

Who would he be?

A jaded, fragmented 40-year-old man trapped in a 16-year-old body. Forced to stare into the eyes of the parents he'd murdered in another life and pretend everything was fine. What then?

At his side, Caleb clenched his fist, digging his nails into the flesh of his palm until he broke skin. He took a deep breath, focusing on the sting, letting the pain anchor him.

A warm hand squeezed his shoulder. Caleb looked up to see Mollymauk giving him a concerned, confused look.

Caleb tried to summon a smile but rolling a thousand-ton boulder up a mountain would've been easier. All his weary face muscles managed was tightening in a grimace.

Molly looked at him for a moment, then closed his eyes and stretched in a grandiose motion that ran from the tips of his toes to the clenched fists above his head. Upon his arms' descent, he wrapped one around Yasha and the other around Caleb's shoulder, settling back in and staring forward at Fjord.

Caleb went stiff under the contact. He should duck out from under Molly's arm. What comfort could come from a dead man? But for a dead man, Molly's skin was remarkably warm and felt incredible against his freezing neck and shoulders. It burned the numbness away until he felt like a human again. Felt real again.

The weight of Molly's arm helped tether him to this place. This time.

Caleb surveyed his friends tangled out before him. Nott's slight chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm next to him. Beau's muscled legs overlapped his. Fjord spoke quietly now, mostly just to Jester and Yasha, though the three of them seemed on the precipice of sleep as well. Next to him, Mollymauk had leaned his head back on the chair seat behind him, eyes closed.

Caleb wrapped an arm around Nott, pulling her closer. This timeline wasn't real to him, but it was real to them.

He shouldn't forget that. Couldn't forget that.

…

The sun never rose the next day, obscured by dark storm clouds intent on washing Zadash away. The Mighty Nein pulled themselves from sleep with a series of groans. Molly withdrew his arm, letting his hand pause on Caleb's shoulder once more to give it a squeeze. He looked at Caleb with a question on his face.

"I'm fine," Caleb said quietly, but the look Molly gave him implied his lies were getting more and more transparent.

After taking the time to bemoan the fact that'd they'd paid for three rooms and only ultimately used one, the Mighty Nein left The Pillow Trove on their whirlwind shopping spree.

Or attempted whirlwind shopping spree.

Because of the weather, many shops were late to open—including The Invulnerable Vagrant—so they failed to pick up any more useful magical trinkets or a new dress for Jester.

Empty-handed, save for a handful of crossbow bolts they'd managed to scrape up for Nott and incense for Caleb, The Mighty Nein departed Zadash by ten in the morning, already soaked through.

Of the two-and-a-half-week deadline to obtain the Countess's blood, they needed a good ten travel days just to make it to Ice Haven, which explained the Gentleman's earlier insistence on speed. The plan was to meet the Gentleman's contact, someone named Lox, on the 20th at 6 pm at a tavern called The Tipsy Seal.

Two hours into their journey it became clear hitting that deadline would be difficult. The torrential downpour worsened, releasing an ocean down on their heads. Water spilled from the grass and pooled on the road.

They spent the bulk of the later afternoon looking for hills or inclines to set up their evening camp without danger of being swept away. Conversation was impossible over the pounding rain, so the party kept to themselves, wallowing in their clammy skin and soaked shoes. Caleb managed to turn Frumpkin back into a cat, but because of the rain had to send him to his pocket dimension right after.

When they woke the next morning, the grasslands were flooded, leaving hilltops suspended above the impromptu marsh like little islands.

Their horses waded through knee-high water, and the cart left a wake behind it like a boat. Progress slowed to a snail's pace, and the water level rose even higher.

On the third day, the storm broke at last. The Mighty Nein basked in the sun's rays, letting it warm their faces and dry their clothes. For about thirty minutes.

Then the horses' hooves started to sink in the mud.

The more the water drained into the land, the deeper the mud became. By midafternoon the party had to dismount and pull their horses through the thick sludge. It was dense as molasses with twice the suction. On multiple occasions they had to strap every horse to the cart along with the entire party getting behind, pushing to dislodge it from the muck.

They went to bed that evening caked in mud up to their waists with legs that ached from the amount of effort it took to make even a single step.

It was on the third day of their one-day trip that they crested a hill and finally saw the silver river stretching out before them. Covered in grime and sweating through their clothes, they made their way into the little town that lined the river.

An older women lingering in the door of a shoe-shop eyed them as they passed, and Jester broke off towards her. The rain had made her cold worse, so her button nose was dark and swollen like a blueberry.

"Excuse me, miss, is there a bathhouse here? You can probably tell but we got really dirty on our way here," Jester said, leaning forward to confess the last bit as if it were a secret.

She pointed a calloused thumb over her shoulder. "It's called the river," she said, giving Jester an unimpressed once-over.

With sunken shoulders, Jester returned to the group. "Guys, I don't think I'm going to be able to find a new dress here," she said, looking around at the slumping buildings with a sniffle.

"It's no Zadash, that's for sure," Caleb said and stepped over a chicken bone that'd been tossed in the street. Easily enough they found their way to the docks, led by Fjord, who zeroed in on the largest boat.

"That's gotta be us," he said and stepped towards it. The wide barge stretched out before them, sail-less and flat. The bottom half was stained dark from years on the river, and a barely legible name, 'The Yohimbe', cracked off the side. Fjord paused to take the vessel in.

"Are you The Mighty Nein?" asked a rough voice from behind them. From the shadows of the building from behind them broke a half-orc woman, dark and scarred from a life under the sun. She stopped before them, eyeing them one by one and crossing her thick biceps.

"Who's asking," Nott asked with narrow eyes.

The half-orc woman towered over Nott and raised an eyebrow. She had at least six inches on Fjord. "Captain Whitney Cotton," she said at last, "of The Yohimbe." She glanced behind her at the barge. "The very late Yohimbe that should've departed two days ago but could not because we had orders to wait for passengers," she said and spit on the ground. Her tusks flashed in the noonday sun.

Fjord rubbed the back of his neck. "Apologies for making you wait, we had full intention of—"

Whitney cut him off. "Frankly Mister—"

"Fjord."

"Frankly, Mister Fjord, I do not care why y'all were late. My singular job is to get you and my cargo to the destination safely and on time," she said, articulating the last word sharply. "Now, if I can get y'all to board my boat and stop lollygagging on the docks, maybe we can start making up for that lost time." With that, she started towards the boat, white ponytail whipping behind her.

"I, uh, I guess we're heading out, guys," Fjord said, looking back at the party.

"I want a top bunk!" Jester said as she ran ahead.

Molly and Yasha split off to board their horses and cart at the nearby inn while the rest of the party proceeded onto The Yohimbe.

A handful of sweaty crew watched them from underneath the shade of their hats with annoyance. Caleb stepped in front of Nott instinctively.

"Well, what're y'all waiting for, an invitation?" Whitney called to the crew. "Prepare to disembark."

With hearty sighs, they rose from their lazing and began untying ropes.

Another half-orc came up beside Whitney. He was six-inches shorter, but twice as tattooed and lacked Whitney's frown lines.

"This is my First Mate, Elijah," Whitney said with an acknowledging nod.

"Also her brother," Elijah said, offering Fjord a handshake with a grin.

"Fjord," Fjord said, shaking the man's hand. "And this is Beau, Jester, Caleb, and Nott," he said, gesturing to each person in turn. "We've got two more at the inn that'll be here shortly."

Whitney rolled her eyes at that. "Oh wonderful. More delays."

"Why don't I show y'all where you can set down your stuff so the Captain can get us ready to leave," Elijah said and led them towards the lower decks.

Caleb ushered Nott ahead of him away from prying eyes, casting one last glance at the crew before he followed her into the dark. They descended a rickety set of stairs into the shaded interior of the boat. Caleb blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the change.

"Obviously we're primarily a cargo vessel, oh, watch your head," Elijah said, ducking under a low-hanging beam, "So we don't have much spare living space. Point being, we're shorthanded on crew just to have enough room for you guys, so we're gonna need you to pitch in at some points," he said and led them through the body of the boat.

"Seems reasonable," Fjord said, looking around with interest.

Dark ropes swayed slightly, strung from the ceiling, nets pinned barrels and crates against either side of the boat's interior, and the muffled sounds of steps and Captain Whitney's voice leaked in from above with narrow shafts of sunlight.

Elijah lead them to the crew's quarters, which were not bunk beds as Jester had hoped, but a series of cloth hammocks suspended above the floor.

Fjord fell into one easily, lacing his hands together behind his head. "Just like old times," he said, rocking himself with a foot braced on the floor.

"I don't know if Yasha will fit in one of these," Beau said, running her hand along the length of one of her hammocks.

"Oh, they're bigger than you'd think," Elijah said, "Those ones along the edge are for you folks. I'll give you guys a couple minutes to settle in, but once you're done, head on back up, okay?" he said, then vanished back into the maze of cargo, leaving the four of them alone.

Nott prodded at the hammock nearest to her with suspicion. "Won't we fall out in the middle of the night?" she asked, glancing to Fjord.

He shook his head. "Nah. The hammocks swing with the boat so that doesn't happen. Plus, it's a river cruise. No waves," he explained.

Caleb set his things down under the hammock next to Nott's, then surveyed the room with a frown. "Not much privacy," he remarked. That would be a pain if he needed to conduct any more rituals. Plus there was no escape from company. He could imagine the space this evening, teaming with bodies. Strangers looking at him. Looking at them. Asking questions even. A week straight of that. No place to get away and decompress. Trapped in the dark hot belly of the boat. Caleb reached for a necklace that wasn't there.

"You mean sleeping with like twenty, hot and sweaty strangers isn't your idea of a good night, Caleb?" Beau asked with a smirk.

The rest of the Mighty Nein laughed, and even Caleb's mouth twitched at the joke. "No, not particularly," he said.

While Jester, Beau and Fjord turned to head back upstairs, Caleb lingered in the crew quarters. Nott gave him a curious look.

"Come on, let's explore a bit more," he said, and they stepped back into the rows of towering crates and barrels that occupied most of the boat's interior. The rest of the boat proved to be just that, more cargo, but at the very front there was a small break in the cargo that was out of view until you stumbled upon it.

Caleb breathed a sigh of relief upon finding the isolated oasis. He snapped his fingers, and Frumpkin popped back into existence. The not-tabby jumped up into Caleb's arms, where Caleb stroked his fur in a soothing rhythm. "This will be good in case I need to cast a ritual," he explained.

In case we need to get away.

Nott nodded, understanding his meaning.

In time they made their way up back onto the deck, where Fjord and Yasha were helping the crew ready to set sail, Jester was tying bows in various ropes, and Elijah was trying to explain to Molly and Beau what they could do to help.

Despite the Mighty Nein's "help", The Yohimbe, at last, managed to break free of the port, slipping down the river on the current.

Nott and Caleb, who'd weaseled out of disembarkment duty, rested against the rails, watching the buildings slide past before them. Caleb's fingers tapped the rail, and his stomach churned as the buildings vanished into a black spec behind them.

"Well, here we go," Nott said. "To Ice Haven."

"To Ice Haven," Caleb repeated, glancing forward at the long, winding river ahead of them.

…

Parks and Recreation, Season 4, Episode 11, 12:14