THE WHIP FELT like a white-hot rod being rammed into my back. It was so much worse like this than it was when the guards were just trying to get us to work harder. Then, I could keep from screaming.

This time, I couldn't.

Vaguely, I could hear the guard counting off, each number coming after a fresh lash. "Twenty-six," he called. Crack. "Twenty-seven." Crack. "Twenty-eight."

At thirty, they paused, and I tried to breathe. It was hard. The wounds in my back stretched every time I took a breath in. Everything seemed foggy aside from the searing stripes in my back, but I could hear the guards. They were discussing whether or not I would be fit to work with more lashes. I could tell that there were more than a few who would have been happy to whip me until I died, but a couple of them were more worried about what Goreham-Hogg would do if they accidentally killed a prisoner. I sincerely hoped they were the ones who won out, because I didn't think I could hold out if they hit me any more.

I tried to force my eyes open while they debated. Everything seemed a bit blurry, whether from tears or me just being woozy from pain, but I could sort of see. I could at least make out the shapes of the other prisoners, who were standing behind the lines of several guards with pikes. Erik looked like he was being physically restrained by Sterling.

A cold, bony hand seized my arm and pulled me upright. It seemed they'd decided.

"Everyone back to the cells," growled one guard. The guards closed in round the prisoners and escorted them down. I was pulled along behind them - there really wasn't any other way for them to make me move - and shoved into my cell. As the tramp of the guards' boots faded away up the stairs, I sighed.

I was exhausted and it was hard to focus, but I made myself concentrate for long enough to try to clean and close my wounds. It was just a new layer of skin, but it was better than nothing, and it would help everything heal faster.

"Was it really you 'oo did that, treacle?" came Sterling's voice through the wall. "'Cos if it was, I don't mind tellin' ya that it was prob'ly the stupidest thing you've ever done."

I snorted. "I've done stupider," I said, trying to curl up. I winced as the motion pulled at the new skin on my back. "Have I ever told you about the time I decided it would be fun to dive off of this big rock offshore of Bloomingdale?" I sighed again and managed to find a good position to sleep in. "Besides," I continued, "they deserved it. Wafting the scent of that food over at us when all we had were a couple mouldy loaves of bread… They're lucky roaches were the worst pests in the Goretress."

Then I fell silent and looked across the corridor at Erik. He'd retreated to the back wall of the cell, sitting with his knees hugged to his chest. "And what were you doin', anyway? Looked to me like Sterling was havin' to wrestle you back. Could you quote to me how many times you've called me foolish over the past month or so?"

He didn't say anything. After a moment, I realised he wasn't looking at me - he was resting his chin on his knees, and it looked like his eyes were almost closed. Even if they weren't, they weren't looking at anything inside the prison.

"Oi, Erik," I said, uncurling and moving closer to the bars. "What is it?"

It was a long moment before he said anything. When he did, it came out low and eerily flat. "This is his fault."

It took me a little longer than it should have for me to realise who he was talking about. "Oh," I said. "Erik… No, it's not. Aquila has nothin' to do with our bein' stuck here now. Don't think about it, just go to sleep…"

"It is," Erik insisted. "Had he not turned traitor, we would be in the Observatory now and the fyggs would be returned. None of this would have happened - not losing the fyggs, not meeting your father in Wormwood Creek, not Greygnarl's death, and not this, now! Had he not betrayed me, you would not be in pain now."

"If he hadn't betrayed you, we wouldn't have gotten to see the guards screamin' like little girls when the roaches swarmed them," I said, making a lame attempt at a joke. Erik fixed me with a flat glare.

"Go to sleep, you two," Sterling grunted. I heard him moving around in his cell, and an impossibly quick moment later, he was snoring.

I sighed and looked back at Erik. "I'm serious," I said. "It's not really his fault… I understand you're bloody angry, but there's nothin' we can do about it here. It'll just drive you mad. Especially since we're trapped."

He closed his eyes and looked down. "I have already said that you cannot understand," he murmured. "I appreciate your efforts, Tammy, I truly do. But I am afraid there is little sufficient to ease my mind at this time…" He sighed and looked up. My breath caught at the sadness in his eyes. Among all the other horrible emotions in here, I hadn't even noticed it…

Slowly, he shifted his weight, and then he crawled up to the front of his cell. "There is one thing you can do for me," he said. He reached out between the bars and laid his hand on the floor, palm-up. "Try to keep yourself safe."

I blinked and for a moment couldn't do anything but look at his hand. Then I smiled a little bit and looked up into his face. I reached out and took his hand, and didn't brace myself against the flow of emotions. A storm seemed to rage round me for a moment, jarring chords of anger and flashes of madness lighting dark clouds and sheets of something freezing cold. But I controlled myself and tried to look through the storm.

Erik's face came into view. I blinked again and stopped fighting the storm, and it faded away.

Erik looked down at our hands, his mouth open just a little bit. Something inside him went still, and then relaxed. He looked back up, and even though he didn't smile, I could feel the change.

"Thank you," he said.


A cold, bony hand grabbed my wrist.

I jolted and felt my arm hit something. I groaned. "Wazgonon?" I grunted, disoriented.

There was a metallic clicking noise and then something squeaked open. I was pulled out of the cell, blinking as I tried to wake myself up.

I reached consciousness as I was being dragged up the stairs towards the main floor of the Goretress. There were several guards waiting, but no prisoners yet.

"What are you doin'?" I snapped then, trying to pull away. "Gerrof me, you disgustin' -"

The guard turned round and yanked me closer. "It's the gallows for you, old girl," he said, leering creepily with his almost fleshless face. "His Goreship gave permission last night. Now come along, you little witch!"

I struggled harder, but the other guards had closed in round me and had their weapons out. "Get away!" I shouted, and shoved one of them back with a spell. The others tightened the circle, and I could feel the tips of swords and spears touching my skin.

There was a slight noise from the cells below. It was time for everyone to wake up.

Since I really didn't want to be turned into a human pincushion, I had to follow the guards to the gallows. There, I was shoved unceremoniously onto the platform and a hedge of weapons bristled towards me. The only way to go was towards the noose.

"Wake the prisoners," one of the guards said. Another scurried off towards the cells to get them. Several, though, were already heading up the stairs. I could see Sterling's bulky shape, but there was no sign of Erik.

When Sterling caught sight of me up on the platform, his eyes went wide and he sprinted my direction. A couple of guards turned round and held their weapons that way, forcing him to stop before he could reach me.

Erik was one of the last ones up the stairs. I shook my head frantically when he saw me. He didn't need to rush up here. I would have to get out of this myself - I couldn't put the others in danger.

Sterling grabbed his arm as he passed. "Don't try it, treacle," he whispered. "It won't do nothin'."

"I shall not simply stand here and watch while they -!"

"Step on up there, now," said one of the soldiers behind me. "There's a good girl."

They took a unified step forwards, backing me towards the gallows. I felt my back come into contact with the wood, and I flinched. My stomach dropped away.

"I'm not goin' up there," I hissed. "You can't make me. I have magic, remember -"

A sword was jabbed forwards, and I cried out as it poked into my stomach. The blade was cold.

"Fine," growled the soldier who had stabbed me. "If you're going to waste everyone's time being such a baby, I suppose we'll have to forget about the hanging for now." He pushed harder on the sword, and I moaned. "I'll just slice you to ribbons instead, you disgusting little witch!"

I couldn't move, pinned as I was against the gallows and with the soldier's sword several centimetres into my gut. I pressed myself against the gallows, clenching my eyes shut and struggling not to cry.

"I can't let 'em get away with this!" roared Sterling. My eyes snapped open. The guards whirled round to see Sterling barrelling towards them.

"No -" I yelled, but it didn't matter - Sterling whacked guards and weapons aside and slammed a right hook into the head of the one who had stabbed me. I gasped as the sword tore out of my gut, and the soldier fell to the ground.

I doubled over, pressing my arms against the wound. Erik raced up, jumping over a prone guard and skidding to a halt beside me. I leaned against him for support while Sterling turned to face the prisoners. "Listen up, all o' ya! We've been pushed around by these 'orrible Gittish idiots for long enough! It's time we stood up for ourselves and put an end to this once an' for all! It's time for us to fight for freedom!"

"What d'you mean, 'freedom'?" asked a guy in green. "Even if we beat them, we can't get out of the Goretress. What's the point?"

"No need to worry on that front," Sterling said. "Erik over 'ere knows 'ow to get through the shield fields and let us out. Which means 'e can get up to the guard tower and switch off the shield field generator. All 'e needs is us to lend an 'and by distracting the guards wiv a knuckle sandwich or two. Piece o' cake!"

One of the other prisoners bit his lip. "If that's true, maybe we do stand a chance…"

Please, stop deliberating, I thought. The sooner we switch off the fields, the sooner we're out of here…

Erik wasn't even paying attention to the conversation. He had an arm around me to help hold me up and a hand over my arms like that would help stop the bleeding. My breathing was quick and ragged. It almost hurt too much just for shallow breaths.

"Well, 'e ain't got much reason to lie, 'as 'e? Let's give these toffee-nosed Imperials a taste o' their own medicine!"

I heard footsteps racing off.

"Erik," I said. "You've got to go up… You're the one who can get through the shields."

"Sorry to spring that on you, treacle," Sterling said. "Look, I'll take it from 'ere, at least till you finish up turnin' the shield fields off. Then see if you can't fetch some of yer mates to 'elp out an' all. An' make sure yer all properly kitted out - fings are only gonna get tougher from 'ere on in."

Erik nodded. "Here," he said, and carefully moved me so I could lean up against Sterling. He jogged off up the stairs, past several sets of battling guards and prisoners, through the shield field, and into the tower.

Sterling helped me down the stairs and sat me down against a wall. "You gonna be okay, treacle?" he asked.

"I...I think so," I said. I moved my arms away from the wound on my stomach. They were covered with blood. "I just need to clean this out. Maybe try to heal it a bit."

It hurt, but I managed to peel my shirt away from the wound. Clean, I thought. Get everything out that doesn't belong…

"Ow," I muttered. "Ow, ow, ow…" It stung, even over the pain of the wound.

"D'you know 'ow to 'eal that?" Sterling asked. "Looks to me like it went in a little more than skin-deep."

I grimaced. "No," I said shortly. "I'll just try to protect it. Once the shields are down, we can fetch Nick and Cristine. Nick'll know what to do better than I…" I put a hand over the wound and made a little local shield. It wouldn't do much, but it would at least put pressure on it and keep it from getting dirty.

It took less than five minutes for the shield fields to go down and Erik to reemerge from inside the tower. When he reached us, he helped me up. "Come," he said. "We shall go get Nick and Cristine… Nick will know better how to heal your wounds."

I nodded. "We'll be back soon," I promised Sterling.

"We can hold 'em off," Sterling said. "Take as long as you need."

Erik helped me limp out of the Goretress, and then he cast Zoom. I almost fell over when our feet hit the cobbles in front of the Quester's Rest.

"Almighty, I hope they're here…" I murmured. We walked inside. The bell above the door tinkled, making several people look up - including Erinn and Patty.

"Erik!" Erinn exclaimed, hurrying out from behind the desk. "Tammy! Oh, I'm so glad you're both all right - where have you been?"

I made a face. "It's kind of a long story," I said. "Look, Erinn, have you seen Nick and Cristine?"

She nodded. "They left about an hour and a half ago for Swinedimples," she said. "The Bishop was there - I assume they were going so Nick could be ordained. They should be back any minute now. Come in, sit down!"

We all three made our way over to a table. I lowered myself into a chair. Erik stayed standing. "Erinn," he said, "could you perhaps bring us some food?"

"Of course," she said, and smiled. "I'm just so glad you're both safe…"

She hurried off into the dining room. I sighed and curled in on myself with my hands over the shield.

Erik pulled one of the chairs closer and sat down. He didn't say anything, just sat there, looking down, absently rubbing his thumb and fingers together.

Erinn came back a moment later with two plates heaping with breakfast. "Here," she said. "I hope you -" Then she gasped. "Tammy, you're bleeding!"

I blinked, straightening up, and then I groaned as the motion pulled at all of my injures. I could feel something warm trickling down my back. It looked like my lashes had opened up.

"Bloody hell," I muttered. "Don't worry, Erinn, it's fine -"

"No, it's not!" she exclaimed. "We need to find you a doctor or something. What in the world happened to you?"

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head.

The bell above the door tinkled again. "- can probably head down to the loch and go swimming again, if you like," said Nick's voice. Erinn, Erik and I looked over to see him and Cristine walking in, holding hands.

"That would be great," Cristine replied, smiling. "Although first we probably ought to -" Then her gaze drifted our way.

She gasped. "Tammy! Erik!"

They hurried our direction. Cristine threw her arms round me in a very painful hug. "Oh, we've been so worried," she said.

"Ow," I gasped. "Cristine - could you loosen up a bit, please -?"

"Oh," she said, stepping back. "I...sorry, Tammy."

I shook my head. "No, it's fine - how are you?"

"Relieved," Nick offered. "You've been MIA for a week. What happened, you two?"

"It is rather a long story," Erik said.

Erinn hmphed impatiently. "That's what they told me, right before I realised that Tammy's shirt was soaking through with blood. Please help me convince her to see a doctor -"

Cristine's eyes went wide. "She's bleeding - you're bleeding?" she asked, looking from Erinn to me and back again.

"Yes!" I said, annoyed. "And it's not gonna bloody stop unless everybody stops flippin' out about it. I'm not goin' to see a doctor - they'd never believe what happened. I just need a little patchin' up is all."

"Let me see it, then," Nick said. "Where are you hurt?"

I snorted. "Where am I hurt or where am I hurt worst?" I asked.

"Her back and her stomach," Erik said impatiently. "Tammy, this is no time for your flippancy! There is a sword wound in her stomach and a great deal of lashes upon her back," he told Nick.

"Lashes?" Cristine asked incredulously.

I groaned. "Can everyone stop actin' like I'm five years old and can't take care of myself?"

Nick shook his head. "Let's go somewhere a little less open to the public," he said. "Come on - Erik, are you injured, too?"

"Not as recently," Erik replied, shaking his head. "Here, Tammy." He slid his arm under my shoulders and helped me up.

We ended up using Cristine's room, since there was a bath right next door and we had quick access to water. I sat on the edge on a stool and peeled my shirt off so we were left with a bra and a hodgepodge of bleeding wounds.

Cristine gasped. "Almighty!" she said. "What happened?"

"The Goretress," I muttered grimly. "Ow!" Nick had started cleaning off the lashes.

"The...what?" he asked, being a bit gentler.

Cristine's eyes went wide. "The Goretress," she said. "The prison from the old stories about the Gittish Empire?"

"That's the one," I said. I resisted the urge to say "ow" again, knowing it would have been pointless.

"How did you end up in a Gittish prison?" Nick asked.

Erik told the story in a few quick sentences, conveniently leaving out the bit about him kissing me but telling basically everything else, including the near-hanging.

"I promised Sterling we'd be back to help as soon as we could," I said when he was done. "The shield fields are down, but there are still things to take care of - Lieutenant Goreham-Hogg, for one. We can't leave 'em for too long."

Nick had finished cleaning off the stripes on my back. There was a crawling, itching sensation as he started to heal them. "They weren't gentle, those guards," he said shortly. "The lashes went into the muscle in some places."

I winced. "I was afraid of that."

"It'll be fine," he said. "Here, Cristine, could you take a look at the sword wound?"

Cristine nodded. "Let me see," she said quietly, moving my hands aside. Then she blinked. "What did you do? It's not bleeding, but it looks...weird."

"I put up a shield," I said. "To try to staunch the bleedin'. I didn't know how deep the sword went, so I decided that trying to heal the whole thing myself was a bad idea… I don't know enough about bodies to know how to fix anythin' except skin." I let the shield disappear, and a good bit of blood splashed out. "Eurgh."

"Eurgh is right," Cristine said, wrinkling her nose. "Is it at least clean?"

"It was before I put the shield up. I dunno if that helped protect it or not."

I watched as Cristine closed her eyes, feeling out the extent of the wound. "Yeah, it's clean," she said. "Let me see what I can do…"

The itching sensation started on my stomach, too. I watched, fascinated, as the blood flow decreased and then stopped entirely. Skin started flowing across the wound, going from red to pink to pale peach in a couple seconds, leaving a neat, clean patch in the middle of the blood.

Once everything was healed, the blood was cleaned off, and Nick turned to Erik. "All right," he said. "Let's see your injuries."

Erik untied his belt and slid the shirt off obligingly. I blinked. I couldn't even tell where the lashes had been.

Nick looked at Erik's back blankly for a moment. "Did you find a healer?" he asked.

"Tammy," Erik said. "Of course, my injures were not a quarter as bad to begin with - and had she had the good sense to keep from intentionally aggravating the guards, hers would not have been so bad, either." He slid the shirt back on and tied on the belt. "Shall we go, then?"

"Er, yeah," Nick said. As we cleaned up and left the room, he glanced my direction. "You know," he said, "if you knew how to heal more than just flesh wounds, you'd probably put me out of commission as a healer."

I shrugged. "Well, I don't, and I don't see how it matters anyway," I said. "You're ordained now - congrats, by the way."

He smiled. "Thanks," he said. "Erinn told you, I assume?"

"Yeah." Thinking of Erinn made me remember the food lying abandoned on the table downstairs, and my stomach rumbled.

Erik was hungry, too, so we didn't get going quite as quick as we wanted. We finished breakfast fairly quickly, though, and then we set out.

Cristine shivered when we reached the Goretress. "It's even worse than I imagined it," she murmured.

"I know," I agreed quietly. Then, as we headed in, "Oi, Erik - did you see where they were keepin' our stuff? I want my sword back."

Erik shook his head. "I did not see anything," he said. "I went only into the upper part of the tower, however. They may have placed it in the lower part instead." He frowned. "I hope we are able to find everything. I have grown to prefer fighting with claws."

Inside, everything seemed to be going well. The other prisoners seemed to have managed to get hold of the guards' weapons and were restrained them. Sterling was watching from up by the tower, seeming pleased.

"Nice one, you two!" he called when he saw is. "I knew we could count on you to get the job done!"

We hurried past the prisoners and guards and up the stairs. "Good, you're 'ealed," Sterling said, looking me over as we reached him. "Right, the rest of the prisoners are keepin' the guards busy, so that side of fings is covered. But there's others who'll need a bit more on an 'elpin 'and before they can get free."

"Who?" Cristine asked.

"The maximum security lot in them solitary confinement cells downstairs," Sterling explained. "I can't 'andle it all on me tod, so you're all gonna 'ave to back me up, all right?"

"Right," I said. "Let's head in, then."

To my intense relief, there was a weapons rack inside the tower, and sitting on it was my cautery sword. I sighed in relief as I buckled it back on. Erik slid his claws on, and we both found our bags sitting behind the rack. Feeling much better, we headed downstairs.

"Now," Sterling said as we reached the bottom, "if we're gonna set that maximum security lot downstairs free, we'll 'ave to kick that Goreham-'Ogg feller's 'ead in first. So what're we waitin' for? Let's get crackin' wiv the smackin'!"

I grinned and drew my sword. We pushed open the doors to Goreham-Hogg's little command room and strode inside.

Goreham-Hogg was inside, along with two soldiers. The lieutenant blinked when he was us. "Ah? How did you swine get through the shield field?"

A glint from my right alerted me to the fact that Erik's seal was shining again.

"Hm? Is that… My, my…" murmured Goreham-Hogg. "Wherever did you lay your grubby little trotters on that? How did offal like you come to be in possession of the Gittish seal given to me by King Godwyn himself?"

I had to cough loudly to disguise a shocked laugh.

Goreham-Hogg hmphed suspiciously. "Well there'll be plenty of time to find that out once I've crushed your ham-fisted attempt at an uprising." He raised his weapon, and the soldiers on either side moved in.

"I'll take on the goons," hissed Sterling. "You concentrate on smashin' that fat pig's face in!"

"Now, let me teach you a thing or two about the true power of the porcine!"

We scattered as the spiked ball came down right where Erik had been standing a half-second before. Sterling swung at one of the soldiers. Erik lunged and raked his claws into Goreham-Hogg's arm.

It felt so good to fight, I thought fiercely as I slashed at Goreham-Hogg - especially since the one we were fighting was the one who'd sentenced me to hang that morning. I was attacking with extreme prejudice, and it felt wonderful.

There was a loud cracking noise from the direction of Sterling and the soldiers. I looked over just in time to see one of the soldiers hit the ground with his neck at a very strange angle. I winced.

Nick struck out at Goreham-Hogg at the same time that Goreham-Hogg swung the ball and chain. Nick's staff tangled in the chain, and he yanked it round hard. The weapon was pulled out of Goreham-Hogg's hand, and before he could go after it Cristine sliced at him with her fan. It sunk in almost to the handle, and when she yanked it back out, Goreham-Hogg stumbled back. He was bleeding hard.

"Surely not?" he said. "A Lieutenant of the glorious Gittish Empire cannot be beaten by mere piglets! It is a dream! A nightmare, even! No, it's…" He looked down at the wound. "I remember now… I made a pig's ear out of a battle and was defeated like this once before… Yes, that's it… It was Greygnarl…"

Nick, Erik, Cristine and I exchanged glances.

"He made crackling of me with his breath, and...well, I suppose I must have died…" His voice was getting weaker. The blood was gathering in a pool beneath him. "Am I...dead? Pigswill! I can't be...can I? ...And if I am, what of...our glorious Empire…?"

He leaned back against the wall, and his eyes went blank. A moment later, he dissolved into blackness and dissipated.

There was another nasty crack, and the other soldier fell to the ground. Sterling wiped his hands on his trousers and walked over to us. "Hmm, seems like 'e weren't no ordinary monster, eh. What exactly's goin' on wiv this Gittish Empire…?" He glanced back at where the soldiers had been. I looked round, too, but they'd dissolved like any other monster.

"Gah, anyway, we can worry about that later," Sterling said, shaking his head. "Now, let's see if it's in 'ere…" He moved over to one of the heavy-looking gilt chests in the room and opened the lid. "'Ere we go!" He rose, holding something small and shiny in his hand. "I knew it was in 'ere! Ahh, me dear old whistle! Now I've got you back, I can call the old girl again."

I looked at him oddly, but a creak from the other side made me look over. Erik had opened up the other chest. He gasped quietly. "An ultimate key!"

"Nice one, treacle!" Sterling said. "That key should unlock the solitary confinement cells downstairs. Right, let's get down there and let the poor beggars out."

Erik was the first one out and the first one down the stairs. I fell into step behind Cristine and Nick, who were holding hands again. Sterling was last of all.

By the time we got down there, Erik was already unlocking the first cell. Sterling came down behind me and paused, when he caught sight of what was inside. "So they really were keepin' em down 'ere… Look, Tammy, it's one o' them maximum security prisoners I was tellin' you about."

It didn't look much like a Celestrian to me. The prisoner was completely wrapped up in an unpleasantly pulsating blue cocoon, which was surrounded by reddish light. The only thing I could make out was a halo.

"What you see trapped in that cocoon fingy in there is no less than a bona fide bloomin' Celestrian!" Sterling said. From his tone, it sounded like he thought it was a real treat.

Erik had opened up the first cell. A weak voice came from inside. "...Is it...truly you, Erik? Or is this an apparition I see before me…?"

"It is no apparition," Erik said. He popped his head out of the cell. "Someone, please assist me in getting them out… I shall release the others."

He moved on to the next cell while Nick moved in to tend to the newly released Celestrian. Then Cristine and I went in to the next cell.

A tall Celestrian with a mop of blond hair was lying on the stone. Cristine and I kneeled down next to him, and he looked up.

"What…?" he asked, but Cristine shook her head. "We're with Erik," she said soothingly. "Don't worry. We're just trying to get you out of here as soon as possible."

"Come on," I said, hoisting one of his arms over my shoulder. "Ugh - Cristine, a little help?"

She moved to the Celestrian's other side and helped me pull him to his feet. We helped him up the stairs and out of the tower. The sun had come out, I'd realised. When the light hit the Celestrian's face, he didn't sigh, but he lifted his chin like he hadn't felt light in weeks.

Cristine and I set him down as gently as we could and started back into the tower. Sterling and Erik were coming out with the last two Celestrians, though, so we just moved out of the way and headed back into the sunshine.

Sterling set his Celestrian down and looked out into the prison. He scowled when he saw all the prisoners congregated, like they were waiting for something. "Wot are you still doin' 'ere?" he snapped. "'Ow come you 'aven't scarpered yet, you bunch o' numpties?"

"Well we didn't want to leave our guv'ner behind, did we?" asked one of the prisoners, who seemed to be standing watch over a guard who was tied to the gallows.

"You mean you couldn't fink wot to do wivout me, more like," Sterling muttered. Then louder: "Can't you see this ain't no time to be waitin' round for the likes of us?" He rolled his eyes over at Nick, Erik, Cristine, and me. "Honestly, wot are they like, eh? Bunch o' bloomin' numbskulls…"

"Ha…" said the guard tied to the gallows. "Enjoy your little victory while you can, you disobedient rotters… What's that I hear? Is it the sound of wings?"

My head snapped up, searching the skies. When I spotted the black shape, my lips pulled back. "Barbarus…" I growled.

"Ha… You should have run while you had the chance…"

Barbarus roared. A flame flickered into being above my palm, and grew into a ball with the addition of a little energy.

"Now you'll see what happens to those who defy the glorious Gittish Empire!"

I hurled the fireball at the dragon, who was racing towards us, firing gobs of dark fire from his mouth.

"Oh, crikey!" shrieked one of the prisoners. "We're all gonna be burnt to a bloomin' crisp!"

"Guards are one fing, but we can't stand up the the likes of that 'orrible monster!"

"Oh no! Why did they 'ave to get 'ere so quick? We're done for!"

I ignored them and continued attacking Barbarus - fire, loose stones, whatever I could either literally or figuratively throw at him.

"Pull yerselves together, you bunch of wimps!" roared Sterling over the cacaphony. "Are we really gonna give up after we've come this far? Don't be daft!"

One of the prisoners, who was trying to take shelter in the stairwell, looked up at Sterling. "It's all well an' good sayin' that, Guv, but wot are we s'posed to do? It's not like we can fly, is it?"

I exchanged glances with Erik, who had taken up a position in front of the freed Celestrians. "If you must," he mouthed.

"Don't you worry yerselves about that, I'll sort somefing out," Sterling said. "All you got to do is run. Go on, peg it!"

"Oh come off it, Guv!" moaned one of the prisoners. "Runnin' ain't gonna do no good! Admit it, we're finished!"

One of the others shook his head. "Nah, I reckon 'e must 'ave somethin' up 'is sleeve, the wily old devil! Come on, wot've we got to loose, eh?"

"'E's right," agreed another. "We can't give up now. We might as well see wot Sterling can pull out of the bag.

"Yeah! Let's do it!"

"Peg iiiiiiiiiit!"

And they sprinted en masse out of the Goretress.

Sterling smiled grimly. "Right, let's see wot we can do, shall we?" He lifted the whistle to his lips and blew long and hard. The whistle gave out a high, pure note like a bell.

Then something that looked like a golden comet came streaking in from the west. It rammed Barbarus, who roared and flew off. I could hear shouts of amazement from the prisoners, but I didn't look away.

It was the Starflight Express!

The Starflight came in for a landing right next to us. We hurried to load the Celestrians into the second carriage, and then we headed up front to see Stella.

She folded her arms. "There you are!" she said, relieved. "Where the flap have you been? And more to the point, what did you think you were doing getting yourself carted off like that? I've been flapping around like a blue-face fly sorting the Starflight Express out all on my own since you disappeared. Don't you ever think of anyone but yourself? I've been behind myself with worry! You'll be the death of me, you will! I suppose you think it's funny calling me all the way out to the back end of beyond like this, do you? Hang on, how did you even manage to get the Starflight to come at your beckoned call anyway?"

She didn't pause for breath once.

Fortunately, she was interrupted by the door opening. Sterling stepped inside. "Sorry if we caught you at a bad time, treacle," he said, sounding amused.

"Wha - Oi! Who said you could come aboard! Get lost!" She'd managed to say all of that before she'd even turned. When she did, she froze, staring. Then she zoomed up close to Sterling and scrutinised him. "Hang on. You're… No… It can't be…"

She flung her arms out like she was going to hug him. "Oh my days! It really is… It's old fatguts! Hello, you!"

My mouth dropped open. No, I thought.

"Who you callin' fatguts, you cheeky mare!" snapped Sterling. "'Ow many times've I told you, it's 'captain'! CAPTAIN!"

All of us shrunk back a little.

Sterling clapped Stella on the back and grinned at her frightened expression. "Well, long time no see anyway, treacle. Looks like you've been gettin' by all right wivout me. So 'ow d'you know these folks, anyway?"

Stella looked from Sterling to us and back again. "What?" she asked. "You know the wingless wonder and his mortal compadres, too?"

"Well, it's a long old story, but yeah," Sterling said casually.

"Um, we're right here," I offered. "Could we get an explanation, please?"

"Eh?" Sterling asked, looking at us. "Oh, right, you ain't got a clue what I'm doin' 'ere, 'ave you? All right, it's like this… That prison foreman fing, that was just while we was banged up. My real identity is, well…" He thrust a fist into the air. "I am the mighty Sterling, captain and chief engineer of the Starflight Express, supreme celestial chariot of the skies!"

I stared for a second, and then found an uncontrollable laugh bubbling up in my throat.

Stella shook her head. "Still fat in the guts and in the head, eh? And still making a flapping idiot of yourself at every opportunity, I see."

Sterling had gone a furious shade of red. "Nah, I was just, eh… Just...er…" He cleared his throat, and I struggled to get myself under control. "Right, first fings first, we should 'ead for the Observatory. ...Ahem. The Celestrians we set free are in the carriage behind. Let's lift 'em up where they belong!"