Though it was a subtle thing, Alek noticed that Dylan did not walk like a person.
Alek had never paid much mind to how others moved, how he himself favored his non-dominant leg in order to push into a fencing stance if need be. But as they made their way down slanted corridors Alek noticed Dylan wasn't disturbed by the tilted floor. At first Alek thought nothing of it, any airman would know his own ship better than a prisoner after all. But then Alek's eyes fell to the floor and he noticed the boy's feet seemed to carry no weight whatsoever. Dylan was too fluid. Eerily perfect and exact, like a spider extending graceful legs to navigate its web.
The comparison made the skin on Alek's neck itch, remembering how the men on the ratlines had looked when he first arrived. Each step carried Dylan in exactly the same fashion as the last, bobbing his shoulders in methodical strides no matter his speed or the terrain. For all Alek knew, the boy could march up vertical walls as assuredly as he marched through the wrecked gondola.
The more slanted and twisted the corridors became, the more sickening it was to watch Dylan's back. That grace contrasted with what Alek remembered from being pinned. How could anything possess such an impossible strength and float across the floor like a ghost? Alek swallowed a lump and tried to focus on his own footing, finding himself feeling sluggish and clumsy by comparison.
"Mr. Sharp! It's true- You're up!"
Alek just about jumped out of his skin, then looked guiltily to his guide. The boy was glaring at him as expected, but he made no comment. Dylan must have been getting better at suppressing whatever fever vexed him whenever Alek was startled, he ignored Alek in favor of the voice above them.
"Of course I am!" Dylan chided the boy who swing down through a hatch in the ceiling, "How could I sleep with all this bloody racket?"
He wore the same uniform as Dylan and seemed to be of a similar age, if not somewhat younger. And like Dylan and all the other countless 'legal undead' there was that same aura of death that hung over his inhuman features, even as he grinned brightly at his friend.
Alek saw Dylan matched his expression, and the two of them together looked almost normal.
"Mr. Rigby and I were beginning to think you'd finally blacked out," the soldier said, "Good to see you were just dawdling."
Dylan snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Get stuffed," he snapped, albeit affectionately, "You're lucky it was me who found you and Rigby moaning into your harness, else they'd have kept you both blacked out. And I haven't been dawdling."
With the same parody of graciousness as when introducing Alek to the Lady Boffin, Dylan stepped aside and swept a hand before Alek.
"Might I introduce our poor prisoner here, Alek. Poor prisoner Alek, this is Midshipman Newkirk."
Newkirk glanced around Dylan, politely pretending to notice him for the first time. Alek made to extend a hand, but then froze. When Alek met Newkirk's eyes they were as cold and feral as Dylan's had been when he first woke from the snow. How had Alek not noticed how much softer Dylan's eyes had become after sating himself?
And more importantly, what was it that Dr. Barlow had said about the crew being forced to work on half-rations?
But Newkirk didn't make any move to attack, within a moment his inspection of Alek was finished and he was smirking at Dylan again.
"Aye, I heard about your mad boy," he said lazily, "Mostly because you wouldn't shut up about it before."
Indignation made Alek flush.
"You were bragging about me?" He hissed.
"Not bragging," Dylan said, "Merely informing our good Mr. Newkirk of important prisoners we're keeping aboard."
He flashed his fangs as he grinned, "Though I did brag after I won the coin toss."
Newkirk rolled his eyes.
"Never mind all that. Whatever games the Lady Boffin has you playing with this abominable snow boy can wait. The captain's calling us all to the hive, he wants us to preserve our energy in case we're here for a while."
Dylan's eyes widened as if that was a statement that made any sense whatsoever. "We're already that low on rations?"
"What is the hive?" Alek asked, feeling another unsettling lecture on its way.
Both legal undead studied him, before Dylan sighed and turned to explain.
"When we're resting we can …commune with each other," he said, lacing his fingers together "The hivemind is what we call it when we're all in our cases at the same time."
Alek gawked at the both of them, "You can read minds?"
"No, of course not!" Dylan said, somewhat offended.
"It's more a shared dream," Newkirk provided, "The closest thing we have to dreams when we're resting. And we can't enter the hive or wake up again if we're completely blacked out, so non-crucial crew are meant to stay there until the officers confirm a rescue. That includes you Mr. Sharp!"
Dylan frowned and shook his head. "I don't think I could sleep even if I wanted to!"
"Aye, heard about that too." Newkirk narrowed his eyes, and Alek could see that cold cruelty in them again. "You're awfully chipper considering our situation, Mr. Sharp."
Dylan tensed somewhat as he had when Alek had nearly let his secrets slip to the Lady Boffin. Alek felt his pulse quicken as well, if Dylan's crime was discovered Alek's one bargaining tool would be worthless.
"That's because I am crucial crew you bumrag," Dylan recovered quickly, "They gave me a full ration to make sure Alek here doesn't run off."
Newkirk's expression softened with a befuddled frown, "Can't you just shove him back in his stateroom? Mr. Rigby told me to find you and make sure we both get to the hive."
Alek was mortified. That dingy freezing cell was meant to be a stateroom?
Dylan brought his knuckle to his lips and gnawed the leather.
"I'm also supposed to join negotiations with the locals," he said, "I need Alek with me for that."
It was clear Newkirk wasn't buying it. "And this was an order from the bridge, was it?"
"Well no," said Dylan, "But the Lady Boffin-"
A loud bell rang in two quick successions overhead, making Alek jump. Both Dylan and Newkirk looked back at him, as if remembering he was there. Dylan swore under his breath and took Alek by the arm.
"Alright," he said, "There's nothing for it snow boy."
Alek glared down at the hand gripping him and then back at Dylan.
"We had a deal," He hissed.
"No," Dylan said, his eyes flicking tellingly to Newkirk and back, "We had an understanding, back before the Captain gave direct orders. Now he has, so it's back to your room you go."
Then Alek was dragged in the direction they had come, barely managing to keep upright alongside Dylan's perfect strides. Even as it was ineffectual Alek held the gloved fist on his arm in an attempt to pry himself free. Newkirk did not follow them, in fact he seemed to have evaporated into thin air. Now they were alone, and Alek was free to argue properly.
"I will-"
"You'll what?" Dylan asked, "Scream and alert the officers? Tell them what I did? Then I suppose you'll just fight them off on your own and make it back over the snow?"
Alek swore and tried again to pry himself free. Dylan stopped to observe his resistance almost piteously.
"Look," Said Dylan, "I don't want to do this, trust me. Even if you kept your side of the bargain one slip under mesmerism could get me staked. I want you off this ship just as much as you do."
As a small mercy Dylan let Alek go and watched as he wrenched himself away to cradle his arm. Glaring up at the boy, Alek found Dylan watching him with the same sympathy one has for a child who has disappointed them. The patronization insulted Alek more than the rough handling.
"I've answered your officers' questions," Alek said coldly, "I've held my tongue about you attacking me, and I've remained compliant as you dragged me about this godless airship all night."
Dylan narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to respond, but then another ring sounded overhead and he swore.
"I don't have time to argue," Dylan said, "I'm being called to the hive with the rest of the crew. I can bring you to Doctor Barlow and she can figure out a way to get you home, but it can't be me who helps you."
Again the bell rang overhead and Dylan frowned up at it.
"Why are they…" Dylan muttered, before a quick succession of chimes changed his expression entirely. "That's an alert!"
Just like Newkirk, Dylan had moved in the blink of an eye. Alek whipped his head around to see the boy standing by the wall to look out the window.
"What could be attacking us all the way out here?"
Alek's eyes widened as he rushed to look for himself. The gondola was still tilted, the side they stood at elevating them just enough to see the sun rising on the horizon. Alek squinted in the new light, wishing Dylan hadn't taken his supplies off him.
A speck twitched in the far distance, slowly getting larger with every minute. The bottom of Alek's stomach froze, he realized he was out of time.
"Blisters!" Dylan swore, "Is that a stormwalker?"