Josef eyes drooped. Squinting, he watched as Claudius removed a small piece of golden moss from his herb pouch while sewer water dripped from the moist ceiling. A drop landed on Josef's forehead. He grimaced.

"Clood," said Josef, trying to get Claudius's attention. But Claudius was ignoring him. "Clood," said Josef again. Nothing. He spent a few moments making shapes with his lips, practicing his vowels.

"Claud—"

"What!" Claudius said, peering back at Josef from the prow of the boat.

"Bleeding."

"I'm trying to concentrate on fixing that precise problem right now, Josef," Claudius replied as he shredded the golden moss into a bronze mortar bowl. Josef watched on as a few pieces of gormulch were added next. It was the same pale green lichen Claudius had used earlier to clear his throat.

As Josef lightly felt around the perimeter of his bites, he listened to the grinding of the pestle against the mortar. He was losing blood to the coffin's floor at an alarming rate, but at least he was no longer proffering himself to the gujai. The blaring announcement for his capture had also stopped, blessedly, after only five repetitions. His thoughts now seemed a bit clearer, more manageable, but he couldn't be sure because the pain from the gujai bites was tremendous. It made it difficult to think. He'd also inhaled an alarming amount of sewer water.

"Claudoos. Stomach," Josef said, gripping his stomach through his cloth sack.

"Now that," replied Claudius, "is another problem entirely." Claudius had never bothered to learn the herbal remedies for drinking sewer detritus. "If you need to retch, Josef, just retch. Your gujai bites are top priority right now." Claudius then swished his tongue around in his mouth and began to spit profusely into the bronze mortar bowl.

"Stop making that face, Josef. It's a natural binding agent. This is what herbalism looks like." Pestle in hand, he then wrestled the golden moss, gormulch, and his own saliva into a thick paste. His head was still bowed, but he spoke again to Josef, his goo-drinker. "Good thinking on grabbing this coffin, Josef. We were in some hefty trouble back there. I also commend you for listening to my instructions and picturing your goo-sac. Listening is good."

Claudius swallowed. He was filling the silence and he knew it. He still felt more than a little uneasy that he'd contemplated abandoning his goo-drinker to the gujai. But he hadn't, he reminded himself, he hadn't.

He looked up and watched as Josef took his index finger and prodded each of his wound-holes "Leave your bites alone, Josef. Here," Claudius said, scooping up a wad of the gold-green paste and offering it to him. "Take this and smear it into your bites. A recipe of my own. Created from necessity when I accidentally let my leg tumble into the sewer during a recent scouting mission."

At this point, Josef was quite wary of Claudius, at least of his theories. But he did trust his skills as a herbalist and so he eagerly took the paste from Claudius's webbed hand and began to dab it into each of his bites. It sizzled and smelled something like horseradish. His heart rate sprinted upwards, but then he breathed and even relaxed as a vibrating coolness came to take its place.

Claudius noticed Josef relaxing and nodded approvingly. The more relaxed Josef became, the quicker his neocortex would blossom. Until that point, Claudius was extremely hesitant about blasting any more information into his young charge's thinkspace. But he had to get something out of the way.

"Josef," Claudius began, clearing his throat and smoothing his gills. "I need to tell you something."

Josef's eyes brightened. He pushed himself up from the floor to better listen.

"I almost violated the first rule of saving you goo-drinkers. I'm not good with guilt, so I'm just going to get this off my chest." Claudius sucked in a deep breath of air, held it. "I almost abandoned you back there during our bout with the gujai when they had their teeth in you and there was sewer water splashing everywhere and I thought oh dearest void why did I jump in this sewer and then I started to think about ethics and—"

But Josef waved his hand, brushing away Claudius's fears. "We team."

Claudius looked at his goo-drinker and felt immense pride. He'd picked a good one. Claudius also felt lighter; he felt blessed, perhaps only in a very minor way, but nevertheless Josef had forgiven him. It appeared to be a very useful skill that Claudius planned, eventually, to one day develop himself.

Josef winced and pet his own skull. "No brain combust please."

"Easy on the language, Josef. I know your neocortex is booting up, and you're probably feeling a bit more capable, but let's not rush into things. What I am going to do is talk some strategy here for a little bit. You know the drill — if you're feeling agitated, just make a noise for me to stop."

Josef gave a thumbs up and let himself sink back against the coffin's rear wall.

"So the situation is, Josef," Claudius began, pressing a finger against the coffin's floor. "We're right here at the moment and we have three different options for ratification of which I'm aware." Claudius then moved his finger a short distance away from where he'd first jabbed. "Our first opportunity lies in Gangdrup. It's a small feld, but well-worshipped, and relatively accommodating to outsiders. It's also very close. The catch is that you need to be a musical prodigy to get ratified there," Claudius said this and then took a deliberate pause.

Josef scratched at his chin hairs. "Sing?"

"Anything," replied Claudius, appraising Josef. "The kazoo, piano, gujai bone chimes. Take your pick. Contemplate it lightly while I move on to The Crow Meadow." Claudius then pressed his finger even further away from the first placement. "This is my preferred choice, but it's also the most visibly dangerous. The Crow Meadow is a very old feld that has unfortunately been practically smothered by the Ba'ha Company. It's well guarded and the approach is difficult. The upside is that the crows are quite ecumenical in regards to whom they ratify. Hence why the Ba'ha Company makes much use of it."

Claudius took a moment to survey Josef. The goo-drinker was obviously thinking all of this through but he didn't seem overly stressed. "And lastly," Claudius said as he dragged his finger far, far away from the three previous points, "we have Bouldershore. I've never been here myself, but the word is that this feld is practically senile. I heard they even missed a Moonsneeze once, which isn't even technically possible, but they did it. It's also very far away, which puts you at risk of…well we've already touched on that."

Josef stared at Claudius. He'd heard everything Claudius had just said, but his brain was full of crows singing out quarter notes while perched atop giant boulders. Everything was mushed together and he wanted to make the right decision but he had no idea what to say. He just wanted to live and never, ever, see a gujai ever again. He then turned, hearing a plop, and watched on as a singular gujai, as if summoned, plucked up from the sewer muck and slowly blinked at him.

Josef shivered, looked at Claudius. "I don't think I music."

"Have you tried recently?"

Josef's face soured. He could feel his throat. It was raw from chugging sewer water. There was no way that anything close to beauty was coming out of there. He felt his thoughts inclining towards The Crow Meadow. He could be sneaky.

"Crow," said Josef hesitantly.

Claudius's eyes lit up. "Ah, I see that we're on the same page. It's too risky to go to Gangdrup only to get denied by Mal, and who knows if we'd even make it to Bouldershore in time, or if they'd even show up. The Crow Meadow it is! We're on a direct line to it as we speak."

Now that they were no longer splashing around for their lives, both Claudius and Josef noticed the sewer's calmness, its quietude. The soft rush of water was interspersed with gentle drips and drops from the ceiling and the plop of surfacing gujai here and there.

Then it returned, the nasal whine:

"UPDATE BA'HA DENIZENS. GOO-DRINKER AND FISHMAN HEADED FOR CROW MEADOW. REWARD UPPED. 600 GOLD CHUNKS. KILL THE FISH, CAPTURE THE ONE WHO DRANK OUR GOO."

Claudius screamed. "Those bastards! They're listening to us. And I'm not a fish! They're trying to throw me off my game."

The message repeated again and again. Josef shrivelled into a ball and plugged his ears. Claudius raged and slapped both of his webbed hands against the sewer water. "It's that damn Kipfish. He's the only vaguely proficient near-seer in the entirety of the Ba'ha Company. Thankfully, he's frail and will be exhausted if that was him trying to peer at us."

As the booming message relented, Josef gave Claudius a curious stare.

Claudius waved him off. "I say stick with the plan. They were already guarding it anyways. There's even a chance they might think we'll deviate. Their mistake if they do. We don't deviate," Claudius said, curling his webbed hand into a balled fist. "We'll need to find an alternate route out of these sewers, though, which isn't deviating. It's innovating."

Josef blinked at Claudius, but then turned to look behind them as he heard an unusual sound. Someone was cackling, or singing, he couldn't quite tell:

O' the sewer life is never bright

But the stars are outside still.

The lonely come here to make a wage

And for years and years it's less than nil.

Though my flesh is nicked by sewer sauce

And my family calls for my mad catch

There's a strange night in sewer land

And I come to seek just another batch.

Behind them loomed a barge at least six times the size of their coffin. Josef looked at Claudius and saw that his companion and thrifty guardian was on high alert. An oar was raised in the air, and held by a man in a sewer-splattered black cloak.

"Ahoy, there! What have we here?" the man hollered as he slicked his oar into the water, drawing himself closer to their mildewed coffin-vessel.

"Keep your distance," Claudius cried out. "We are merely sight-seeing!"

"You keep your distance, fishman!" returned the man. "These are my sewers. I fish these waters. I run the ferry line!"

"Fishman!" cried Claudius. "Say that again, you grizzled pelican. We'll sink you if you paddle any closer!"

"Naval warfare is prohibited on these waters as per the Truce of the Rusted Ladder," spat out the man as he continued to push his barge closer.

Claudius's gills were fluttering wildly. "Just leave us alone and go catch some gujai. If you're confused, those are what fish look like," Claudius said, huffing and pointing at one bobbing close to them. "I am a Sea Gwell and we're renowned throughout the Southern Plate for our emotional intelligence and nimbleness."

"Suit yourself, fishman. I'm sure you're aware that it's the height of the gujai's mating season. And that crumpet curled up on your deck wouldn't happen to be a goo-drinker, would he? 600 chunks is a pretty sum."

Josef waved.

"Spunky, isn't he?" said the man to Claudius as peered through the loose strands of grey hair covering his face. He waved his oar at Josef in greeting. "How do you do, goo-drinker? Is your brain hanging in there?"

Claudius was unsure of how to handle the situation. He didn't exactly like complete strangers talking to his goo-drinker, but the man was obviously not Ba'ha Company material.

"What do you want with us, sewerman? Tell us your intentions."

"My intention, as you call it, is to get back to my family for sup. I've caught more than enough gujai today for the table and the market. Do you trust that, fishman?"

"No," replied Claudius bluntly. "Reveal to us your weapons!"

"Calm your gills. I only have this oar here. My name is John and I have no love for the Ba'ha Company or their gold chunks. May I draw up to your vessel?"

Claudius glanced at Josef who simply shrugged.

"Alright, come aside. The goo-drinker doesn't seem agitated so why not."

John the sewerman slipped his oar into the emerald sewer slime and pulled his barge forward and closer. Claudius watched as John took in the state of their vessel.

"Is that truly a coffin in which you ride?" he asked, bewildered.

"It chose us," stated Claudius. "It actually has fairly good handling and the mildew is purely decorative."

John arched one of his thick charcoal brows. He drew his lanky fingers down his mouth. His nails were long, chipped, and striated like glacier stone. He looked from Claudius to Josef. "Against my better judgement, I'd like to offer to you my services as a ferryman. As I said, it's mating season for the gujai and your gravebox will surely perish if it were to come in contact with the gujai's ferocious mating toxins. I offer both the services of myself and Hilgooth here, a right good sewer sluicer my pa passed down to me nine septujinnys ago."

The offer was tempting. Claudius was unaware that there even was a mating season. Truth be told, it might not even exist, he reasoned. It could be a ploy by the sewerman to acquire his goo-drinker. Claudius stared at Josef and weighed his options.

"I sense hesitation," continued John. "But if you know anything about us sewerfolk it's that we detest the occupiers and their filth." Claudius knew this to be true, but he hadn't interacted with many sewerfolk before. He'd only seen their emissary attend the Ba'ha Company premises a handful of times. There was risk, but if they decided—

"Josef!" Claudius said, snapping to attention. The goo-drinker was climbing into Hilgooth. "Ugh. I was right, you have jive — too much jive." Claudius crossed his arms against his chest. He sighed. "I'll board on one condition. We get to bring aboard our coffin just in case we need it."

"Certainly," replied John the Sewerman, smiling, his teeth glowing a light blue. "Never rescued a goo-drinker before."

Claudius grabbed his rucksack and climbed in while staring at John. "Let me clarify something, sewerman. It's me who's rescuing the goo-drinker. Now help me with our coffin."

"Payment first, fishman," said the sewerman warily.

"Yes, yes, of course you want a few chunks. What's your fee?"

"Three silver chunks for the basic fare package, plus three more for carrying a goo-drinker."

Claudius stared at the sewerman. This would be a great payday for him. But he was also foregoing the chance to nab himself 600 gold chunks by helping them. He was even risking his life. Claudius reached into his rucksack and handed John a full gold chunk.

"The extra is for your silence."

John lifted the gold chunk for Claudius's open palm and inspected it. "You can't buy me, fishman. But I accept your payment."

Claudius left it at that and with John's help he hauled the coffin-vessel into Hilgooth's hull. Claudius then surveyed the boat. There wasn't much to it. A tin can rested in the corner along with some rope and a fishing rod. Right in the center of the barge was a makeshift holdspace full of flapping and croaking gujai.

Josef, at that moment, was keeping his distance. He'd prayed fervently that his gujai days were far behind him. However, it was clear that he wouldn't be so fortunate. Even with his eyes closed, he could see their beady, mucus-coated fish eyes floating in his brain like strange bits of candy. He calmed himself by returning to the image of his goo-sac and modulating his breathing. He was learning, slowly.

"So we're off to The Crow Meadow, I take it?" said John the sewerman, cackling.

Suddenly Josef's hair lifted up from his arms. He felt the air become electric.

"No," sputtered Claudius, "There's no way." The words came out slowly, full of disbelief, as Claudius stared at the rising hairs on Josef's arm.