"Sir, you're not listening to us." Inpheria said these words emphatically as she and Fenric trailed behind Admiral Anders, who was moving about the bridge and giving orders to various members of the crew. The assault was still taking place; the ship shook constantly as the cannons discharged their loads into windwyrm, who still seemed to be focused only on surviving the attack as best she could.

The admiral answered without looking at her. "I have listened to you since the moment you slipped past the guards and entered the bridge without permission. I simply just cannot accept that the large windstone you have brought to me contains an answer to our problems. Helmsman Revalyn, let's see a bit more altitude. The lower guns are having trouble finding a clear shot." After delivering this order, he finally turned to face Inpheria. "Archivist Inpheria and Engineer Fenric, I am truly sorry. I like this no more than you do, but I will bear the weight in its entirety to delay the extinction of our people."

Inpheria wanted to shake the man. She opened her mouth to protest further, but Fenric spoke first. "But Admiral," he began, "I assure you we are telling the truth. There is another way."

"And what evidence do you have to support these claims?" First Mate Laurian asked from nearby. Contrary to Admiral Anders, his contemptuous tone implied not even a desire to seek an alternate solution. From his deep frown to his hard, unyielding eyes, he radiated resistance.

"El can sense the presence of the windwyrm inside the egg," Inpheria said. "They can even communicate through the material the egg is made of. It has expressed a desire to help us." The other officers and sailors in the room began murmuring to each other at this announcement. The admiral tilted his head and assumed a thoughtful expression.

Seeing the atmosphere in the room shifting, Laurian changed tactics. "Is there any reason we should believe you speak for the Windchaser? Why is it not the boy himself asserting this claim?"

"Because I was preoccupied defending myself from your son, who tried to kill me."

Everyone in the room turned to this sudden voice, which had originated at the entrance of the bridge. Upon laying eyes on Eldin, Laurian's lip twisted into a venomous sneer. Inpheria gasped at the sight of the bloodied bandages covering his entire torso and resisted the urge to run to him.

Admiral Anders, too, stared at Eldin's wound, his features soon dissolving into simmering anger. "First Mate," he said, in a tone that required no further words to express his displeasure.

Laurian abruptly stood straighter, panic in his eyes. "This is nonsense," he croaked. "Whatever passed between those two, no doubt Eldin was the instigator. He has always caused trouble for Veric, and his recent act of rebellion--commandeering a shuttle and fleeing the ship without authorized leave--only further proves the boy's moral decay. Yes, yes--there's no reason we should believe a word he says about this large windstone he has brought back."

Inpheria hadn't torn her eyes from the wounded Eldin, but she listened to the first mate's desperate slander with disgust. It was obvious the man simply shared his son's hatred, and that alone was clouding his judgment. He'd see the ship doomed just to spite his son's rival.

Eldin ignored the first mate entirely. He hobbled--obviously exhausted from his exertions and wounds--to the windwyrm egg that Fenric had placed on the deck nearby. He placed a bare hand on the rough surface and closed his eyes while communing with the creature within. Finally, he said, "I'm not lying, Admiral. There's a live windwyrm in this windstone egg, and it is willing to help us. You must call off the attack."

Admiral Anders had collected himself after his surge of anger and redirected his attention to the situation at hand. "Inpheria tells us you can sense its presence with your abilities as a Windchaser."

"That's right."

Anders strode toward the egg and placed a hand upon it. He closed his eyes and his brow furrowed in deep concentration. Finally, he said, "I sense nothing."

"What?" Eldin, Inpheria, and Fenric said in unison. They looked at each other in disbelief. Inpheria's mind instantly began theorizing, but the only idea she could suggest was, "Perhaps it takes a certain level of strength to be able to achieve it. It is common knowledge that El's affinity with the windstones far surpasses that of anyone else."

"I am hardly without a firm grasp of the power myself, however," Anders said. "Yet still, I sense nothing more than the usual workings of purewind."

"Then we just have to hatch the egg!" Eldin shouted, throwing his arms wide in frustration. "Then you'll see the damn thing for yourself!"

"And how do you intend to do that?" Laurian asked, clearly seeing a point of attack. "We cannot split the windstone with our usual methods without possibly damaging your creature inside--if, indeed, it even exists. Admiral, no matter what these two may say, extracting the windwyrm's heart is the surest way to our salvation. In the decades of flight it will grant the ship, our scientists will surely devise a more permanent solution."

Inpheria, Eldin, and Fenric looked to each other again. "We can ask the mother how to hatch the egg," Eldin suggested.

Inpheria shook her head. "Did you hear when she tried to speak to us when we were making for the shuttle? Her wounds have destroyed her power of speech. She cannot communicate with us even if she wished to."

"How regrettable," Laurian said. "It appears you have no way of hatching this egg, thereby proving to our admiral the truth of your words. I see only one path forward: that which we had already begun and in which you so insolently attempted to intervene."

"I'm afraid the first mate's logic is sound," Anders said sadly. "I'm sorry."

At this, Laurian's mouth twisted into a victorious, venomous sneer so infuriating that Inpheria nearly drew her sword. But an instant later, her head cleared and her blood cooled when something suddenly flashed through her mind.

Crenya, she thought. Egg. Crenya.

"I remember," she whispered, and then, "Admiral!" she shouted, so loud that she startled everyone nearby.

"What is it?" Anders demanded.

"I know how to hatch the egg! Or rather, I will. Give me half an hour. Cease the assault for half an hour, and I will bring you a windwyrm hatchling. I promise."

Anders looked at her silently for a moment, and she knew he was moved by the force of her confidence. At last he said, "Very well."

"What?" shouted Laurian. "Admiral, you cannot mean to suggest--"

"And you cannot mean to question my orders!" Anders roared back, and Laurian shriveled in the face of the admiral's rage. Anders' voice then returned to its usual collected tones when he said, "You have thirty minutes, Archivist Inpheria."

"Sir!" she shouted, then dashed to the egg. She knelt down to pick it up when Eldin approached.

"I'll carry it," he said. "Where are we going?"

"You are going nowhere. I need you and Fenric to stay here and ensure Anders upholds our bargain."

Eldin nodded. "Alright. Do you really think you can do it?"

"I'll have to," she said, then grunted as she hoisted the egg up.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm still counting on you," he said softly.

She looked at him for a moment, and wished to say so many things, but buried them all. Instead, she said, "I know," then left the bridge, hauling the great weight of the egg in her arms and the fate of the windwyrm mother on her shoulders. Shortly after leaving the bridge, she felt the rumble of the Ventus's cannons cease, and she knew Anders had called off the attack. She hoped it would stay that way.

She was drawing great, exhausted breaths when she finally reached the archives, where she had spent so many years shelving, organizing, and reading books. She lugged the egg over to a thick wooden desk and dropped it heavily on top, shaking the entire table. The sound drew the attention of one of the archive assistants: Marla, a small, mousy girl with huge eyeglasses that were constantly sliding down her nose. Inpheria read great anxiety in her expression. "What's happening?" the girl asked. "What is that?"

"No time for questions," Inpheria said in between great gulps of air. "I need you to bring me"--and she paused for a long moment, eyes closed--"the twelfth book in row three, bookshelf nine, quadrant seven, in the storehouse."

Marla's eyes widened. "Those books are ancient. Whatever do you need it for?"

"No questions, Miss Farnsworth!" Inpheria said forcefully, and the girl squeaked and ran away.

By the time Marla returned, Inpheria had caught her breath and was examining the egg. "Here it is, miss," the assistant said, handing Inpheria a black leather-bound book that appeared so aged that it might fall apart at any moment--which was certainly the truth, for the book had been written before the Ascension, 700 years ago, and somehow ended up in the darkest corners of the archives when the ship was built, rarely to be seen by anyone thereafter. It was only due to Inpheria's voracious literary appetite that she had familiarized herself with the contents of the entire collection of the archives. She hadn't read this particular volume, but she had noted the title when composing an inventory report several years ago.

Inpheria dismissed Marla, then opened the dusty cover and began to read Colorful Crenya: A Study of the Unique Hatching Cycle of Wyrmish Eggs.

Fenric tapped his foot anxiously. Around the bridge, the officers and crew of the Ventus showed their own signs of unease, each one of them waiting to see if Inpheria would return successful. It was deathly quiet with the cessation of the cannons, the only audible sounds being the soft, anxious murmurings of the crew. With each minute that passed without the reappearance of Inpheria, Laurian's arrogant smile grew. At fifteen minutes, he said, "It was foolish to allow the girl even a half hour. The windwyrm could at this very moment be gathering its strength to launch a counterattack."

"She won't," Eldin said. "She said she was willing to make this sacrifice for our good."

"And how can we trust its word?"

"Perhaps by the fact that she has kept us alive for 700 years, sacrificing her very heart to do so. She wouldn't turn on us now." Eldin's face contorted into one of barely contained wrath when he said, "This is murder. It's disgusting."

Fenric put a hand on his friend's shoulder, and felt the tension in it ease. He had always taken it upon himself to keep Eldin's wild emotions in check, and he certainly wouldn't let him lose control now--not when they were so close to ending this with the most favorable outcome they could expect.

But Laurian seemed determined to poke Eldin's temper further. It had been theorized that the plan itself had been Laurian's idea, so perhaps Eldin insulting it had stirred his own anger. "This murder is what will save us all," the first mate spat. "Your shortsightedness is unbecoming of an officer. You should not be allowed here at all, and for more reasons than that! Your position as Windchaser captain is the only thing that gives you the rights of an officer and permission to be in the bridge. Your recklessness is a danger to us all, and your disregard for our rules indicates a severe lack of discipline. It is a shame Veric did not drop you beneath the clouds."

That last remark seemed to serve as the detonation to the mountainous fury of Admiral Anders. "First Mate!" he bellowed. "That is quite enough. You yourself are the one who has behaved in a manner unbecoming of an officer. I will not stand for such comments aboard my ship. You are hereby relieved of your position, and may vacate the bridge."

A weighty silence hung in the room for some time. When former First Mate Laurian Davenworth recovered from his stupefied silence, his lips raised into a furious, teeth-presenting sneer, his eyebrows knit into angles of extreme hatred, and he spoke in a hissing voice of pure malice. "You can't do this to me," he rasped. "After everything I've done for the ship? After all these years served?"

"I will do what my authority gives me the power to do, Laurian." Anders spoke calmly now, his temper reined in. He stared at the former first mate with eyes of firm resolve. That look said enough: His decision would not be swayed.

Laurian must have sensed it as well, for he immediately gave up the fight. He seemed to calm himself at once, taking several deep breaths while staring at the ground. When he had composed himself, he raised his eyes to Eldin with an expression of pure venom, holding it for several seconds.

Then, he reached into his coat pocket, drew a windstone pistol, and shot Admiral Anders in the chest.

Pure shock paralyzed every person in the room. During that moment of stunned silence, Anders--still standing--looked at his former first mate with an expression more of disappointment than anything else. Laurian met the man's gaze with a contemptuous one of his own, then whispered, "I command the Ventus now." Anders toppled over then, as if it were those words that killed him, and not the windstone bullet in his chest.

Then, it was chaos.

Everyone began shouting at once. Words like treachery and betrayal were hurled at the former first mate, whose unwavering expression of pride suggested that he was unfazed by them all. A handful of officers approached to gather around Laurian, but they faced outward protectively, and Fenric realized for the first time that perhaps not everyone had agreed with the suspension of the assault against the windwyrm. Those men drew their swords, prepared for a fight.

"Your new admiral," Laurian said with authority, "announces the resumption of the attack." He tread over to the speaking tubes, metal devices that ran all through the ship like veins and allowed one to speak to sailors on different decks. He leaned into the one that corresponded with the portside artillery. "Resume fire," he said simply.

"Aye, sir," came the reply.

The first mate of the Ventus had the authority to convey the admiral's orders, so the crew on the rest of the ship, despite being unaware of the mutiny that had just taken place, would still obey a command issued from him. Shortly, the rumble of the ship could be felt again as the cannons were manned and the execution was renewed.

Tension in the bridge was rising. The sailors loyal to Anders kept restless hands on the hilts of their swords, and the mutineers dared them to try something by waving their own drawn sabers threateningly.

Fenric knew mayhem was about to break out. The situation was beyond anyone's control now. He looked around for Eldin and spotted him kneeling over Anders. The Windchaser kept shaking the admiral, rapping him on the face with his fingers, trying to wake him up. Fenric knelt down next to his friend. "El," he said softly. "It's done. He's..." But he trailed off, unable to speak the truth aloud.

Unable to say that Eldin's father was dead.