The floor beneath his hands was cold and hard. Joseph’s eyes fluttered open. He regretted it immediately as harsh light funneled into his vision, too sharp and too intense. He squeezed them shut again, a groan escaping his lips. It was definitely much brighter here than Nai Nai’s old basement. After a few moments, as he let his eyes adjust to the room, he opened them again. Panic rose up to his throat as he looked around, threatening to overtake him.

“No, Joseph,” he said to himself, “Come on, focus.”

He was in a circular room, all of it made out of metal. The floor was industrial steel, the walls seemed to be made out of bronze. A deep rumble, like a beating heart, permeated the floor, vibrating it ever so slightly. Joseph got up. He could hear voices and shouts coming from outside the room, in other parts of… wherever he was. Two doors led out, simple and rectangular, devoid of decoration.

How had he even gotten here? Joseph turned to look behind him, wincing as he felt his body shudder and ache. That journey had not been comfortable, to say the least. And his apparent mode of transportation stood above him. It was another sarcophagus, similar in size to the one in Nai Nai’s basement. This one was golden, however, with the head of an eagle - or a hawk? Joseph wasn’t sure. There were no designs on it, either, no decorations or etched runes like the silver one. Now that he wasn’t about to explode from panic, Joseph could now see that there were other artifacts in here - two sculpted marble heads on pedestals stood on either side of the sarcophagus, each fifteen feet away. A few vases were lying on a table, made out of black marble, each the size of Joseph’s head.

Wherever he was, he wasn’t home.

And no way was he doing this.

Joseph walked up to the sarcophagus and, fingers shaking, began to pry it open. It was much more difficult than he thought, and he winced as it initially let out a dry scream as the sarcophagus’s top scraped against the floor. Heart hammering in his chest, Joseph paused. Then, panic of the unknown gripping him once more, he finished pulling it and went inside, twisting his body so that he faced the outside world. The sarcophagus closed with a wrenching shriek, casting him in darkness. Sweat was dripping down his temples now. Any moment, he’d feel that pull again, right?

Right?

Outside, he heard one of the doors open, footsteps clacking against the metal floor.

“Right,” a deep voice said, “Are you all okay?”

“I'm fine as I ever will be, all things considered,” a thin and reedy voice replied.

“Same. I'm alright,” the last voice was a woman's.

“Alright, good,” the deep voice said, “Rosemary, what happened back there?”

“A group of raiders, after the same thing we're after,” the girl, who Joseph guessed was Rosemary, replied, “They came by airship, which means they're local, right? I guess I counted about a dozen men? One of them was definitely a Steamer.”

“Just what we needed,” the deep voice grumbled, “Ichabod, I need you to get a scan of this place. Use that vision of yours – by now, the Steamer's probably covered this whole place.”

“Easy,” the man, Ichabod, said. A few moments passed. Then, Ichabod spoke again as Joseph heard them shuffle around the room, “Broon, I think there's something you ought to know.”

“What is it?”

“There's a man in the sarcophagus.”

Joseph froze up, not daring to breathe. A few moments passed as he heard the footsteps get closer to the sarcophagus. Then it was wrenched open.

“Hi,” Joseph said, “What's up-”

His eyes landed on a dark green-skinned, large man with tusks protruding from his lower lips.

“Jesus Christ!” Joseph tried to take a few steps back, running up against the back of the sarcophagus. The green-skinned man was wearing scale armor and, he noticed, had only one arm – his right, the hand of which held a large sword with runes etched into the blade, which was pointed directly at Joseph's chest.

“Who are you?” the man growled.

“Uh,” Joseph said, eyes wide.

“Answer the question!”

“Okay! My name's Joseph!”

“How did you get here?” the green-skinned man looked him up and down, “You don't look like you're from Kelstonda.”

“Pal,” Joseph said, “I don't even know what you just said.”

The green-skinned man looked him over one last time, then sighed. He lowered the sword, “How did you get here, son?”

With the sword out of the way, Joseph got a bit more control over himself, “I got into a sarcophagus in my Nai Nai's house. It, uh, brought me here.”

“Brought... you... here?” the man tilted his head.

“Yeah, I don't believe it either. Hey, am I in a dream?”

“More of a nightmare,” Ichabod said. Joseph got a better look at him as he approached the sarcophagus. Ichabod was in a dark trench coat, his skin was pale white like decaying ivory, and he wore sunglasses. He looked over the sarcophagus, ignoring Joseph, “I don't see any signs of this being a Traveling Point.”

“Maybe it's magical,” the green-skinned man said.

Then the third voice dropped into view. She looked around Joseph's age, with frizzy blond hair that hung just an inch over her shoulders. She was wearing leather armor and a burgundy cloak. She also held a strange mace, a large rose that looked like it had been dipped in molten glass, gold criss-crossing it like a spider's web.

“Broon,” the girl, Rosemary, said, “Broon, I think he's new to all this. First time traveling.”

“Really?” the green-skinned man, Broon, looked at Joseph, “Oh dear, you're right. It's been awhile since I've been through this whole spiel. Rosemary, have you ever introduced a new traveler?”

“No,” Rosemary replied.

“Ichabod, how about you?”

“Thirteen times, actually,” Ichabod said, “I could do it, if you want. Peel back the layers, make him understand how small he truly is.”

“Yeah, no,” Broon said, “One, we don't want to scare him. Two, you're an asshole.”

“Fair,” Ichabod said.

“Someone want to tell me what's going on?” Joseph asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

“Right,” Broon said, “You're on an airship. You're on the plane of Kelstonda. I'm Broon, this is Ichabod, and that's Rosemary right there.”

“Hiya!” Rosemary gave Joseph a wide smile, “Where are you from?”

“I'm... from...” Joseph thought, “California?”

“Never heard of California before,” Rosemary said.

“It's a state. From Prime,” Ichabod said, “Makes sense, with his fashion and whatnot.”

“I've... never heard of Prime in my life,” Joseph said.

“Not from Prime?” Ichabod raised an eyebrow. He took off his sunglasses, and Joseph's spine tingled as he saw Ichabod's eyes were gone – replaced by cybernetic implants made of glass and bits of metal. He heard whirring as they looked over him, the pupils dilating in an all-too-inhuman manner, “Ah, you poor bastard. You're from Earth, aren't you?”

“That's the name,” Joseph said, “Where the hell am I?”

“Are you stupid?” Ichabod said, “You imbecile, we already told you. You're on Kelstonda.”

“That's enough, Ichabod,” Broon nodded at Ichabod, who sighed and took a few steps back. In the distance, they could hear shouting.

Shouting, and gunshots.

“Shit,” Joseph whispered.

Broon looked at Joseph, and sighed, “Look, the Steamer's probably going to cover the entire airship if they can. I'll give you a deal: Come with us, and we'll tell you everything when we've finished our job.”

Joseph considered the large man's offer. More gunshots rang out, deeper in the airship. Rosemary cast a worried glance to the door.

“Broon, they'll be here soon,” she said. Joseph noticed she was wearing a pack beneath her cloak that was glowing faintly. Broon and his gang seemed to be in a hurry.

“Why should I go with you?” Joseph said, “I could just stay here. Try going back into the sarcophagus.”

“I wouldn't recommend it,” Ichabod said, “For starters, that sarcophagus isn't showing any signs of inter-planar activity. You'd just be sitting in there like an idiot. There's also the fact that, very soon, this room will be filled with steam that will burn you to death in an agonizing fashion. If you stay here, your last thoughts will be of how much of a moron you were as your flesh boils.”

Ichabod showed no signs of lying as he stared at Joseph.

“Alright,” Joseph gulped, “I'll go with you.”

“Good,” Broon said, “Come on, let's go.”

He walked towards one of the doors.

“I wouldn't do that,” Ichabod said, “Steam's closing in fast there. We'll want to go through the other side.”

“But that's the way we came, isn't it?” Rosemary said, “And that's near where they sliced in. We'll run into them for sure.”

“Aye, but there are windows there,” Broon said, walking towards the other door, “We'll have to climb.”

He threw the door open, hand reaching to grab hold of his sword once more. He kept the blade in front of him. Taking point, Broon began going down the hallway. Ichabod was close behind, and Rosemary followed.

“Joseph, right?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Come on, and I hope you're a good climber.”

“I've climbed a few trees in my day,” Joseph said, a bit too nervous for his liking.

They went down the hallways, which began snaking out in multiple directions. Broon guided them, but at one point they came upon a specific split, and Ichabod stopped the group.

“The left path's blocked by steam,” he said, “Go right.”

“Steam?” Joseph asked as they resumed their journey.

“The raiders have a Steamer with them,” Rosemary replied, “Steam Mage. Controls steam.”

“That name is... not original,” Joseph commented.

“Gets the point across, though,” Rosemary said, “But, yeah... not winning any awards in the naming department.”

After about twenty minutes of quick walking and watching for danger, they came to one of the windows. It was wide and long, previewing the outside world. Joseph took a glance and froze. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had assumed that Broon had been lying somehow, that they were just in a simple building. But they WERE in an airship, one that was flying high above the clouds, which spread out towards the night's horizon. Joseph couldn't even see land below them.

His three guides ignored his existential epiphany, looking out the window and ignoring the fact that airships were real. Though, based on how they were acting, it seemed like they were used to all of this. It was business as usual.

“Rosemary?” Broon asked.

“Got it!” Rosemary slammed her rose mace into the window, shattering it. Shards of glass flew out towards the night below. Joseph hoped no one would get cut when they hit the ground. Broon sheathed his sword. He took a glance outside, then jumped out, his single, muscular arm straining to pull himself out of the airship.

“I always hate this part,” Ichabod groaned. With a morose frown on his face, he walked forward and began climbing as well. Joseph noticed, as the wind whipped around Ichabod's sleeves, that his arms and hands were cybernetic as well.

Rosemary gave a worried glance at Joseph, “Sure you'll be okay?”

Joseph looked out the window. Panic was climbing back into his throat as he looked down at the clouds below. If he slipped, that'd be that.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he lied. Rosemary gave him a sympathetic smile, before she clambered out the window and began climbing. Joseph took a deep breath, testing his grip. He looked out the window to see where the other three were climbing. Fortunately, a ladder had been built into the sides of the airship, presumably for its crew to climb about for repairs. He could make out Broon's form hopping towards it, a meaty hand closing over one of the rungs.

“Not so bad,” he said to himself, “It's just a simple climb, like a tree, Joseph. Just…”

He began climbing, stomach falling as he did so. His feet tingled as they went out into open air for a moment, the wind picking him up for a brief moment before he found purchase against the side of the airship.

“Just a big, metal tree,” he gasped.

The airship they were on was like a zeppelin from his world, with a massive balloon that supported a gondola on the bottom. Of course, this airship was three times the size of the Goodyear balloons that Joseph sometimes saw flying in the air, and he was sure that those didn't have turrets built into the side. Joseph took a methodical pace, following behind Rosemary as she scrambled up the side of the hull. She was better at climbing than he was – definitely better than Ichabod, who stuttered and swore as he made his way up the side slower than a tortoise. So Joseph mimicked her actions, using the same footholds she used, and soon enough he was on the ladder. Rosemary looked down at him, cloak billowing in the wind, and flashed him a quick smile.

“Raiders!” Broon's voice was carried by the wind, “Rosemary!”

Joseph looked up. He could see a few raiders now – three men in bomber jackets flying their own personalized flying machines that looked like miniature planes. The men stood atop them, belts connecting them to their fliers as they flitted through the sky, searchlights painting the airship. High above, hidden behind the airship's balloon, Joseph could make out another, smaller zeppelin, ladders and ropes connecting it to the gondola.

Rosemary pulled out her mace and pointed it at one of the fliers. The rose's head on the mace became encased in a bright light – Joseph looked away as it fired out as a beam. It struck one of the fliers, which began tumbling, rider and all, out of the sky.

The raiders had noticed Rosemary's attack, and they began wheeling in formation. Joseph squinted, and on either side of the searchlights he could see machine guns.

“Brace yourselves!” Broon called. Joseph felt his stomach pull. Those machine guns would tear them apart. They had no cover. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel...

Then Rosemary fired off another beam of light. This one stopped between them and the raiders, floating in place for a brief millisecond before expanding out, turning into a wall of light that shielded them as the raiders let out their barrage.

“Nice job, Rosemary!” Broon roared.

“Look out!” Ichabod yelled.

One of the raiders wheeled away from Rosemary's shield, flying high above it. The other was not so lucky, slamming into the shield, which cracked and shattered like the window on the airship, shards of light flying towards them. Most of them disappeared. A few of the larger ones gouged themselves into the airship. The raider himself flew like a meteor into the hull far below them. Joseph twisted his arms and legs around the rungs of the ladder as the airship quaked from the impact.

“The egg!” Rosemary screamed. Joseph's head snapped up as he saw Rosemary's pack unhinge from her back. Perhaps it was the belt she had used to strap it to her person was weak, or the strap had loosened when she was climbing. Whatever it was, the pack began to fall.

Joseph reached out behind him, one hand unclenching from his grip on the ladder. He could feel his bones popping a bit as he strained his arm, snagging the pack and pulling it close to his chest. He felt a shiver of fear wash over him as he hugged the ladder once more.

If he had let go completely...

“Thanks!” Rosemary shouted, “By the gods, thank you!”

A weird thing to say, but Joseph nodded to her. Broon had made it to the top of the airship, going inside through one of the maintenance hatches. Ichabod was close behind. The last raider was wheeling about, ready to make another pass, his searchlight blaring like the sun.

“Do you got him?!” Joseph shouted to Rosemary.

“Do I got him, he asks!” Rosemary laughed. She gave a confident grin, pointing her mace. The light erupted once more from its head, cleaving through the flier. The raider plummeted through the clouds in pieces.

Broon helped Joseph up as he and Rosemary got to the maintenance hatch. He gave him a clap on the back.

“Damn straight!” he said, “Good work. You have the pack?”

Joseph had almost forgotten the pack was there. He presented it to Broon, who shook his head.

“I need my arm for fighting. We're not through with this yet.”

“Perhaps you should check to make sure the egg is still in there?” Ichabod hissed.

“Oh, r-right, egg,” Joseph opened up the pack. Inside was an egg. It was like a tadpole’s, jelly-like and squishy. It was golden in color, glowing cheerily in the relative darkness of the maintenance hall they were standing in.

“Undamaged,” Ichabod confirmed, looking it over with his cybernetic eyes, “Thank the gods that it is, otherwise it'd be all our necks.”

“Keep the pack for now,” Broon said, “I don't want a repeat of that happening.”

“Sorry,” Rosemary said, a gray look on her face, “I forgot to tighten the pack before we started climbing, and... and-”

“It's alright,” Broon replied.

“Well, it's not alright,” Ichabod added.

“It's alright,” Broon cast a warning look at Ichabod, “What matters is we're okay, and the egg is undamaged. You did a good job out there, Rosemary. Your shields saved us.”

Rosemary brightened up at that.

“You think?”

“I know,” Broon gave her a pat on the back. Then he drew out his sword and looked out towards the end of the maintenance hall, “Now let's get back to it. We're almost to the hangar.”

“What's at the hangar?” Joseph asked.

“Our airship, of course,” Ichabod said, “Context clues, Mr. Joseph. It's not that difficult.”

Joseph glared at Ichabod, who gave a shrug and followed behind Broon. Rosemary poked Joseph's arm.

“Don't let Ichabod get to you. He's like that with everybody,” she said.

“Too true!” Ichabod called back.

Rosemary rolled her eyes.

“Thanks again. For saving the egg, I mean,” she said.

“No problem,” Joseph shouldered the pack, adjusting its strap so it hugged his back.

“Time's a-wasting, boys and girls!” Ichabod yelled.

“Alright, alright!” Rosemary began catching up to him. Joseph gave one last glance to the maintenance hatch, then sighed and tailed behind.

***

“It looks like they've set up shop near the hangar,” Ichabod said, staring at the walls as they walked. Joseph supposed one of those cybernetic eyes' functions was x-ray vision, “The Steamer's with them. The northern hallway is clear, though. Seems they're going to kill everyone on board with the steam, then move out.”

“Explains why we haven't had too much resistance,” Broon said.

“What about those gunshots we heard?” Joseph asked.

“There are defenses against Steamers,” Ichabod explained, “Other Steamers, for one. Guards whose sole specialization is killing Steamers, perhaps. They wear full-body suits for protection and rush in. Considering how this raiding group only has one Steamer, taking out any of those was paramount.”

“He's a damn good Steamer, too,” Broon noted, “If he's got such good output and control that he can flood the entire airship...”

“I wouldn't call him good, now,” Ichabod countered, “I've seen good Steamers. Mallory’s a good Steamer. It seems that this Steamer's mostly got the output, not the control – or we'd all be dead by now.”

“Who's Mallory?” Joseph asked.

“One of our Guildmates,” Broon replied.

“Guildmates?”

“In due time,” Broon said, “Part of our deal, aye? For now, let's concentrate on getting out of here. Ichabod, can you route us a path?”

“Of course. Follow me.”

They walked through the hallways, skipping over many rooms that Ichabod said had been filled with steam. He was leading the way now, cybernetic eyes staring at random points as he got a gauge on the raiders' positions. Some halls were completely covered with a white fog that Joseph thought were clouds at first. As he took a closer look at them, Broon put a hand on his shoulder to pull him back.

“The steam,” he said.

“From the Steamer?”

“Aye. That's how they're eliminating everyone on the ship. Floor by floor, covering the entire place, until no one is left alive.”

Almost on cue, they rounded a corner to find a dead body. It was a woman in a fancy, green military uniform, her flesh burned away and her body slightly steaming. Joseph pulled a face.

“One of the victims,” Broon muttered.

“How awful,” Rosemary knelt down to the body, giving it a look-over.

“We'll probably see more as we go on,” Ichabod warned, “It looks like the Steamer redirected the steam elsewhere. Probably going for the whole crew.”

“Someone with a grudge?” Rosemary wondered.

“Or they have schematics for this place,” Broon reasoned, “They've been very surgical with their strikes, so far.”

“What are they after?” Joseph said.

“The egg,” Broon said, “So keep it close to yourself. Don't want to lose it, now.”

Joseph let out a gulp. Broon gave him a smile.

“Relax, kid. We've got your back.”

Joseph looked at the dead body, “I really don't like any of this.”

“Part of the job,” Broon stated, “We just decided to steal the egg at the wrong time, is all.”

“A little run-in?” Joseph guessed.

“Aye,” Broon's brow furrowed, “We were assigned this job by a very... special client of ours. That egg is valuable. A lot of folk are after it.”

“And they want it so much, they're willing to kill for it,” Joseph said.

“Yes,” Broon turned back to walk, “So be careful. These raiders won't hesitate.”

“Oh, just what I needed today,” Joseph muttered.

They wheeled around a few more corners before Ichabod pulled open the door to a dining room. A fancy table had been set up, piled high with fanciful foods and drinks. Seven guests were at the table, all of them in aristocratic clothing – the men in military uniform or tuxedos, the women in luxurious dresses. Soldiers had been posted by the doors on opposite sides of the dining room.

All of them were dead, with the same grisly details as the officer in the hall - flesh burned over, the food overcooked by the steam. It looked like they had all been screaming when they died. Joseph closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Hey,” Rosemary said, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Joseph coughed. He wasn't telling the truth, of course. But the last thing he needed was for them to pity him. They all wore steeled expressions at the scene, walking through it with measured gaits. Joseph had to be like them. He walked through the dining room, pointedly ignoring the bodies at the table.

Ichabod had stopped at the door. “Right through here is the Steamer,” he said, “Now, they don't know we've come here – it seems the Steamer's finished up in most of the airship, and raiders have entered into the museum section.”

“Where we were before,” Joseph said.

“Good job,” Ichabod sneered. He turned back to Broon, “We've got a good chance of taking out the Steamer and getting to the hangar, all in one swoop. The hangar's just a few doors down.”

“Right,” Broon adjusted his grip on his sword, “Rosemary, get ready. Joseph, you hang back. This is going to be a bit messy.”

“Got it,” Joseph said. He glanced at Rosemary, who gripped her mace, smile disappearing as she got herself ready. Ichabod produced two pistols from his trenchcoat. He gave them a furtive look, then spun one, presenting it to Joseph.

“Is that a... a gun?” Joseph asked.

“No,” Ichabod said, “It's an action figure. Of course it's a gun, you buffoon.”

“Really like to lay it on thick with the insults, don't you?” Joseph grunted, taking the pistol.

“You make it too easy,” Ichabod said.

“Well, thanks,” Joseph said. He had taken a few shooting lessons in the past. He kept the gun pointed to the ground, finger off the trigger. He couldn't see if the pistol had a safety or not – it was sleek and pristine, almost like something out of a sci-fi movie.

“If we all die, get out of here,” Broon said, “There should be another hangar a few levels below that they use for cargo. They always keep a few spare parachutes there.”

“Oh geez, alright,” Joseph said. Broon took a deep breath, steeling himself. Rosemary gave Joseph a thumbs-up.

“You seem like a cool guy,” she said, “If we all die, I'm just letting you know, it was an honor to meet you.”

“...Yeah.” Joseph took a few steps back. Broon, Ichabod, and Rosemary all shared one last look to one another. Then Rosemary, taking point, opened the door, and the three rushed in.

Silence for a few seconds. Then the electrifying sound of gunfire echoing off walls. Joseph dropped to the ground, hands shaking as he gripped the pistol. A scream. Broon letting out a great roar, then another scream that became a gargled gasp. More silence.

Then Rosemary poked her head through the door, “Never mind! We're not dead.”

Joseph stared at her for a second. He realized his whole body was shaking now.

“Never... mind?” he stammered. He was calming down now, now that he saw she was okay, “So... you... aren't honored that you met me?”

Rosemary thought on that, “Oh! Um, no, I said never mind, because we're not dead.”

She noticed Joseph's lopsided grin and shot him a look, “You're messing with me.”

“Helps with the nerves, I guess,” he admitted. He took another hollow breath, “You're all alright?”

“Oh yeah, they were nothing,” Rosemary said, “Come on in. Oh, I should warn you, there's a lot of blood.”

“You're so casual about it,” Joseph noted.

“I'm... I'm used to it,” Rosemary gave him another smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, “Sort of. I'm just warning you now, so we don't have another dining room situation.”

“You noticed?” Joseph said. He began following Rosemary through the door.

“Yeah, but I didn't tell anyone,” she replied, “I was like that too, at first.”

“When you joined this... Guild?”

“Before. If you don't want to see the blood, just keep staring ahead. Or at the ceiling.”

“Right,” Joseph stared straight ahead at the back of Rosemary's head. Broon had put his sword between his legs, using a cloth to wipe it down. He looked up as Joseph approached.

“Easy enough,” he said, “Come on, the airship's this way.”

“Any more of those raiders?” Joseph asked Ichabod.

Ichabod smiled in satisfaction, “Ah! You're learning to ask the right people. Good job. No, there aren't any nearby. They'll notice their Steamer's dead, though. May I have my gun back?”

“Oh, yeah,” Joseph handed the pistol back to Ichabod, who slipped it back into his trenchcoat.

Broon opened up another door, and they went back into the maze of hallways. They weren't there for very long, however, as Broon swung one last door open to the hangar. A few abandoned biplanes were there, their pilots dead, steam rising from their corpses. Dominating most of the room, however, was an airship. Smaller than the one they were on, obviously, but still impressive. It looked to have been carved out of wood and was shaped like an old galleon sans mast and sails. Green runes had been carved into the ship's underbelly. Joseph let out a whistle.

“You came in on this?”

“Aye,” Broon said, “The Dreamer's Lament.”

“Still a stupid name,” Ichabod commented.

“Your name is Ichabod, you don't get an opinion,” Broon replied.

“There's no balloon,” Joseph said.

“It runs on a different sort of magic than steam,” Rosemary said, “Steam airships are on Kelstonda, magitek airships are from Melmaen.”

“I have no idea what those words mean,” Joseph said.

“Rosemary, can you get the hangar door open?” Broon asked.

“Sure thing,” Rosemary pulled a lever installed by the door, and the hangar door began opening up, revealing the whipping winds of the outside. Clouds were beginning to disperse now, though Joseph still couldn't see any land below.

“My internal GPS tells us we're somewhere over the Lioran Sea,” Ichabod said.

“Not over any cities then. Good,” Broon said, “Come on aboard, you must be exhausted.”

They went onto the Dreamer's Lament. It was comfortable compared to the airship they had been winding through for the past few hours. A large living space had been set up, with a couple of couches and (oddly to Joseph) a modern-looking refrigerator. A blue carpet covered the wood floor. The whole thing reminded Joseph less of an airship and more of a glorified bachelor pad. As they walked in, Ichabod and Broon went upstairs. Rosemary went to the fridge and got a drink out.

“Is that a Sprite?” Joseph asked.

“Yeah,” Rosemary replied, “What? It's good.”

“I just... didn't expect it, is all,” Joseph said.

“You want one?”

Joseph usually didn't drink soda. After tonight, he would have preferred something stronger. But he gave a tired shrug.

“Why not? Pass one.”

Rosemary tossed him a Sprite, plopping herself down on one of the couches. Joseph could hear Broon’s heavy, thudding footsteps above them. It must have been the bridge, as Ichabod was giving status reports to Broon.

“Right, autopilot engaged, heading to the Traveling Point,” Ichabod's thin voice carried down the staircase, “Cloaking is engaged. They won't see us leave.”

“Good,” Broon said, “The less scraps we get in, the better.”

“Indeed.”

Joseph sat down on the other couch, taking a few sips of the Sprite before setting it down on the table in front of him. Weariness ate away at his bones, and the adrenaline rush he had been feeling since he fell out of the sarcophagus came crashing down on him. He felt himself begin tipping over onto the couch, sleep taking over, the shadows beckoning him towards his dreams...