Thunder rushes back into the caverrn, breath coming in sharp grunts. She drags an unconscious Jonas, her arms hooked under his shoulders. Lily and Artemis sit against the damp wall catching their breath. Dinah, a plump Solarii voyager with sandy brown braids works to light a fire using the broken remnants of the wooden table. It’s easy enough work, as some of the wood is still damp with lantern oil.

“Hernan’s body is gone,” Thunder says as she lays Jonas by the fire. A swelling cut shines crimson on his forehead. “Rico’s gone too.”

“Cast pushed me back..” Dinah says with a whisper. “He-”

“He always was quick.” Thunder sighs, rubbing at her temple. “We’ll drink to their memory.” She reaches into her breast pocket and pulls out a flask. One amber drop stains the ground as she tips it out, the smell of whiskey sharp as nails. Then she passes the flask to Dinah. Dinah takes a long draught and steadies herself.

“What happened to your sun, Art?” She asks, passing the flask to Lily.

“It went out. What happened to yours?”

“I-”

Thunder quiets them with a look. Though the golden sunlight was an investment of Solarii divinity, not every Solarii could call on it. The Gods, or the remnants of them, could be fickle. For every Stormward like Wilhelm that could shoot lightning, there were more who could only create useless thunder, or rain, or a gust of wind.

“We’ll have to wait for daybreak, or until Mudge finds Rico… though what kind of rescue he can mount…” Thunder shrugs. Lily’s eyes light up as the realization hits her.

“Of course!” Her voice is a breathy whisper, a shadow’s cry. “Rico will show up on the ship!”

“Yes,” Thunder’s response is terse.

“What a lucky coincidence he was hit,” Artemis says with a blithe grin.

“Not so lucky,” Thunder replies. “I shot him.”

The others look at her in mute surprise. Thunder was ever Rico’s advocate among the crew. The loudest voice in favour of him being treated as one of their family. Including, but not limited to not being knifed just because of his peculiarities.

“Not a word to Jonas,” she says with a bitter grin. She surveys the remnants of her crew, her face severe. “This job just became too much trouble.” Her eyes come to rest on the steel box, set down in the corner of the cavern. “Lily, have a look at this for me? Don’t risk anything, I don’t want it blowing up in our faces… But I think, when we get the chance, it’s time to see what Haze is willing to send us into fuckin’ Faerie country for.”

Lily nods, she holds a ragged bandage to her face, stemming the bleeding from her wounded cheek.

Thunder squats down on her haunches by the fire, as the wind and something worse howls outside the cavern. “Dinah, did I ever tell you the story about how Mudge stole the necklace off Saint Ursula’s statue the last time I was on Evergreen?”

* * *

Rico comes awake with a start, as if escaping from some violent dream. His mind is steeped with fog, his eyes glassy in the cramped darkness. A golden afterimage flickers about him. Unseen, above on deck, runes inscribed in the hull flicker in time. His world is quiet, after the roar of the waterfall, the flash of the pistol. He sits up, banging his head against a copper pipe with a groan. He remembers! Thunder’s final words to him, almost lost in the rush of wind and crash of water.

“Send help!”

Rico, dizzy and lost, his head throbbing, tumbles to hands and knees. He remembers the darkness, and the light, but his feet are clumsy beneath him. Still remembering, or re-learning, how to walk. The copper pipe tells him he is close to the engine room, and Molly, the ships engineer shrieks as he topples out of a storage cupboard.

“Rico?!” she says, holding a wrench in one hand, raised to strike.

“M-m-m-”

“I thought you were on the ground?”

“M-m-”

“It’s me, Molly, yes… What’s happened?”

Rico shakes his head hard enough to almost tip him over again. Not Molly. He needs… “Mud-!”

“Mudge?” Molly claps a hand to her face, leaving a streak of engine grease across her chin. “Of course! Come quick!” And with a burst of energy, she leads him up the ladders and through the heart of the ship.

Molly is a Singer, a sister of mine, in our great divine family. Descendant of Seth, the Beetle. Seth champions nature, the growth of wild things, and cultivation. As such, Molly’s position as Engineer on board the Kingfisher might be considered odd to those of us who judge others by their heritage. Of course, Molly has lived on board the Kingfisher since she was a young child, working and learning under the Captain’s careful tutelage. She is almost an adopted Builder. And so, the Kingfisher, being itself an amalgamation of Evergreen’s Livewood and Spark’s mechanics, is finely suited to her expertise.

She leads the struggling Rico up through the mid-level of the ship, dragging him whenever he slows down. They know well enough about Rico’s peculiar resurrections, if not the why and how. He tends to be dazed and forgetful for a time afterward, though that time grows ever shorter. Molly is herself surprised that he was able to so quickly get her attention.

“Mister Mudge Sir!” Molly shouts, straining as she pulls Rico up behind her onto the deck. In the moonlight, the fine chitinous layering of her skin is revealed in delicate patterns across her arms.

Mudge turns on a dime from where he stands on the fo’c’sle. His mouth tightens as he sees Rico.

“M-mud-”

“Something went wrong, didn’t it?” Mudge’s voice is gentle, as if coaxing a frightened beast.

Rico nods, flustered. He can’t remember what had gone wrong. All he knew was SEND HELP.

“Do they need help?”

Rico nods, grateful. Mudge always knew the right questions to ask. Mudge immediately turns away and steps into action.

“Crew, light the torches. Prepare the sloop for descent. Tack the sails and prepare the guns. Rico, what can you tell me?”

“F-f-fu-”

Mudge sighs. “Fucking Faerie country… Okay everyone, keep yourselves together. Any manner of monster could be lurking in those branches. Molly, what are you still doing here?”

“You haven’t given me an order, Sir,” Molly replies. “And I’m an officer, just like you-”

“The captain is in trouble. We need to get down there, burn the engines in a slow descent. But try to conserve enough fuel to make an escape. Speaking of-”

“-It’s bad.”

“Bloody hell. We’ll have enough to get back to the lake?”

“Uh. Most likely?”

“Why didn’t you mention something sooner?” Mudge growls. “The ship’s no good to us if she can’t fly!”

“I told Captain when we were coming in to Evergreen!” Molly retorts, angry. “Told her again when we passed Lincoln. We could have refueled and stopped for dinner, but apparently we needed to do this job first. So she said no. If I cut under her and go to you, that’s a problem, Mudge!” Molly draws a deep breath, rubbing her temples. “Look, that’s the situation. We’re burning fumes up here, but that might still be better than whatever is happening down there. Something killed Rico!”

Mudge nods, his lips pursed in a thin line. “Of course. Apologies, Molly. Get down to the engine and try and make those fumes count for something.” Molly gives a quick salute and then blushes slightly, before turning and scrambling back down the ladder to the engine bay.

“Did the Captain shoot you, Rico?” Mudge asks quietly as the crew scurry about them.

“D-d-did she?” Rico asks, his mind fuzzy.

“Never mind.”

Mudge hears the harsh wheeze of the engines now. The slight shake and shudder to the usual soft hum of flight. They would have to refuel, and soon.

“Bring us all the way down!” He shouts to the crew. They look about with surprise. Mudge moves towards the wheel, where a thin metal tube runs down to the engine bay. He shouts into the conical opening. “Prepare for submersion, Molly! We’re going in!”

“What in the hells are you talking about Mudge?!” Molly’s voice crackles up the tube. “We haven’t depth tested!”

“Look, you said it yourself, we’re burning fuel, I’d rather come down voluntarily in water than over those trees.”

“Right, but if we hit rocks and damage the hull you’re gonna flood the engine you idiot!”

“Is that how you speak to your commanding officer?” Mudge barks.

“It is when they’re being a Star-burnt idiot!”

As if on cue, the Kingfisher comes down with a splash, sinking down into the water as the engine splutters. The ship, like most sky-ships built these days, is a hybrid. Spray covers the deck, leaving Mudge and the crew glistening in the inky moonlight.

Then the ship hits something and makes a harsh grinding noise.

“Damn-” Molly’s voice cuts off and Mudge turns to survey the scene. He’d made the decision, and he’d live with it. He’d just have to hope.

“Can someone get me a light out there?”

One of the crew lights a torch, before tossing the flaming brand over the edge towards the shore. The light spits fitfully as it illuminates the soaked pier by the falls. The sloop is completely gone, likely downstream, the only signs of life are two humped figures lying motionless on the bank. The light sparks, and then is swarmed by a dancing morass of shadows.

Then the light is gone, and but for the purple after-image, the world is dark. Mudge surveys his crew, the drenched, tense faces looking to him. He cracks his knuckles.

“Bring wood and oil.”

* * *

The Kingfisher’s second, and final, emergency row-boat hits the water with a soft splash. It is buffeted by the current, rushing around the grounded Kingfisher. The anchor holds her on a short chain, keeping the boat from being ground against the rocks further downstream.

The oars of the small boat beat steadily. In the darkness, we can just make out the silhouettes of heads bowed over their work. They make for the shore, carrying no light. A rescue mission, of sorts.

Soft splashes sound around the Kingfisher, her guns pointing outward in silent rebuke. A few bodies scurry about on deck.

Watchful eyes might just make out the powerful arms of Mudge. He swims, a guiding rope tight about his waist. A task he entrusted to nobody else. The sound of the waterfall masks his strokes as he fights the current, making for the dock.

The shadowy sprites chitter with animalistic glee. Frenzied anticipation gripping them as their prey drift closer. They crowd the shore, practically salivating as the smaller boat draws closer, the current taking over. Shrouded figures disappear off the back of the boat as it grinds against the sand. Ropes tied around their waists pull them back at speed, one by one. The last kicks the boat forward, pushing it the last distance up the bank, where it is immediately swarmed by roiling shadows.

On the deck, Kendra Stoutheart holds a longbow, she dips the tip of an arrow in oil, and then sets it to the bow. One of the crew holds a torch out, and she lights it quickly, her eyes shining in the darkness as she takes aim.

She releases the arrow, and behind her, four more crewmembers loose as well, a wave of flickering lights launch into the darkness, arcing towards the billowing mass of shadows and the row-boat beneath them.

It only takes one arrow to land on the explosive laden boat, to ignite the oil pooled in the base.

The night sky is rent by an explosion. Captain Thunder hears it, and her first thought is for the Kingfisher, she rushes out and finds her pride and joy stable, if a little low in the water. Flaming fragments of shadow rain down across the bank and the water. A voice catches her attention. Mudge is in the water, struggling against the force of the current.

“You-” she begins, before cutting short. “Wait here.” Thunder disappears back into the cavern and draws the remaining crew out. Still in bad shape, Lily and Dinah support a semi-conscious Jonas.

“Captain,” Mudge says, having scraped his way up the rocks. He spits out a mouthful of water, his arms shaking. “Thought you might need a spot of help.”

“Rico found you?”

“Yep, damndest thing too. He remembered. Couldn’t find his words, as usual, but he knew enough to send for help. Came straight to me.” Mudge breathes heavily between each short sentence. “What happened?”

“We’ll talk when everyone is secure,” Thunder says. “For now, we lost two crewmen, Hernan and Cast. And, the package has not been delivered.”

“Damn,” Mudge glances into the cavern. “Ambush?”

“No, we’ll talk about that… it was-”

“Fuckin’ Faerie country, huh?” Mudge shakes his head. “Well, don’t know if you heard, but, we made reparations good and proper to the Midnight Court out here.”

“They would have appreciated that. Hernan always did love a good explosion,” Thunder says quietly, “Now, lets get home.”