They lost the Gil-Galad in the storm. The blizzard continued, unabated, for their entire journey across the skies of Entheos. It was as though Skarnorex themself were driving them away. Indeed, at certain points Meleko would look out to see a dark blot against the endless white, as though the Dracolich were stalking them across the expanse.

But that couldn't be the case, right?

No Dracolich was that petty about outlanders.

...Right?

He was one of the few members of the Guttersnipe's menagerie that would actually go out onto the deck. Most of the time, it was to look out for danger. Someone would always have to be in the crow's nest, a position decided by lots among the crew. The Jugdran threw himself into the running, and often found himself ascending the cold rope ladder, bitter snow curling around him.

But he was used to this. Used to being in a crew that looked out for each other. Even before the guild, he had found kinship with other Jugdran during campaigns on icy worlds. There was a coming-together, an odd sort of community that came when one was fighting alongside strangers against the same foe. There was no choice. Even nomads yearn for camaraderie.

Despite the fact that he was Amber Foundation, body and soul, for this trip, in this endless winter, he was of the Guttersnipe, and he carried himself accordingly.

Rosemary was recovering after the fight. And she, despite everything, cast herself out into the snow with him.

It was their final day on Entheos when he found her joining him in the crow's nest. She was wrapped in several heavy cloaks, like he was, the head of her mace poking out from the folds, glowing slightly to cast warm light in the gray dusk of the world.

“So,” she said.

“You feeling up for it?” Meleko asked.

She nodded.

“I want to see the rainbows,” she said, “I want to be the first person on this ship to actually feel warm again.”

She shivered a bit, and Meleko let her sidle up against him. The two watched the blizzard. There was only one other crewmate up above deck, Captain Orvisan himself, the surly gnome holding himself to a railing. He was smoking, but what smoke came from his cigar was stolen quickly by the wind.

“Should tie himself down,” Rosemary commented, “One stray gale, and we're down a captain.”

“Aye,” Meleko said, “You should, too.”

Rosemary blinked, then nodded, wrapping a rope around her waist and fastening the end of it to the base of the crow's nest. She settled back down.

“So,” Meleko said, “Almost there.”

“It's been...” Rosemary sighed, “It's been a lot.”

“Got that right,” Meleko said.

They didn't state the obvious. A fourth of the crew was dead. Most of the injured had been attended to – the wonders of modern magic – but it was still a harsh blow to morale. The cold, the endless cold, did little to help matters.

Meleko leaned back.

“So, Rosie,” he said, “You doing alright?”

“Yeah,” Rosemary said.

He looked at her.

“Rosemary,” he said, “You good?”

And she wilted.

“No,” she said, “No, I'm...”

The wind wailed around them. Meleko had to strain to hear her as she spoke.

“Can't hear you, Rosie.”

“...I said I feel like a lot of this is my fault,” Rosemary said.

“How so?”

“It was...” Rosemary sighed, “It was me who gave Rithmound the information on the dead plane. It was me who got Ora sent out here. It was...”

Me who got the crew killed.

Meleko put a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said.

She looked over at him.

“You're the cause,” he said, “But it's not your fault.”

“But-”

“Way I see it, Sunala was the one who ordered the Gil-Galad out to kill all of us,” Meleko said, “She's also the one who found the dead plane in the first place. To search for her damn Shard.”

He shrugged.

“Don't be hard on yourself, Rosemary.”

“Easy to say, harder to do,” Rosemary said.

She looked glumly out past the blizzard, her blue eyes glistening. Meleko re-adjusted himself, his grip on his rifle, and he settled back down.

“Wish I had some cards,” he said.

“You didn't bring your deck?”

“Not on a job like this,” Meleko said, “Not with all the action going on.”

He looked uncomfortable.

“I...” he said, “I usually don't say stuff like this, but you want my opinion?”

Rosemary looked at him.

“Sure.”

“Look, as a mercenary brat, I was told to just follow orders,” Meleko said, “Keep my head down, shoot who I'm told to shoot, all that good stuff.”

“You were trained to keep your mouth shut,” Rosemary said.

“Yeah,” Meleko said, “Keep my opinions to myself, all of that.”

“You think I should have just kept things to myself,” Rosemary said.

“What?” Meleko said, “No! Not like that, not-”

He grimaced.

“Gods, no. Ignore everything I just-”

“It's fine, Mel,” Rosemary said, “It's just...”

“What would she have done if you hadn't told Rithmound?”

Rosemary was quiet.

“Come on,” Meleko said, “I know that you think about this sorta stuff. The political dramas.”

“I...”

She thought on it, her brow furrowing, her worry, for a moment, displaced. The blizzard began to abate by a hair, and one of the crewmembers came up from belowdecks. He whispered a few words to Orvisan below, who looked out for a few moments before going down.

“She would win,” Rosemary said, “I... I took a measure of the Houses in the Minor Tribunal.”

“The whatnow?”

“The council that decides the new Doge,” Rosemary said, “Scuttleway is a plutocracy. Rule by the rich-”

“I mean, all governments are, it seems-”

“They're more overt with it,” Rosemary said, “The city worships gold. Encourages greed. It wasn't always like that. Back when the revolution hit, when they overthrew Tlantoia, the Houses were made up of former slaves. The system was designed so that anyone could join one of the Houses as a means of social mobility.”

“But it wasn't.”

“It wasn't,” Rosemary said, “Give it a few decades,now those old Houses are set like stone, save for a few here and there. Let anything set itself in, refuse to change, and it will grow stagnant.”

“So you think she'll win,” Meleko said.

“As I said,” Rosemary said, “The Houses only care about gold. And Chliofrond is a moneybag waiting to be spilled open. Never mind the Shard. Look at the water supply. The 'tourist' options. God, Becenti would hate that, wouldn't he...?”

“He would,” Meleko agreed, “So... without you telling Rithmound, and everything going on out there, she'd win.”

“Don't kid yourself,” Rosemary said, darkly, “Even if we do this, there's always a chance it's for nothing. The Minor Tribunal could still vote for her. The Gil-Galad might shoot us down.”

“Busciver, or whatever, wins the Dogeship. What happens?”

“More Elven influence over the city,” Rosemary said, “Tlantoian influence. You know what they were like?”

Meleko shook his head.

“They were...” Rosemary sighed, “I did my reading, like a good little elf. Did more reading than Sunala thought I would, to be honest, read more than the books she gave me. Everyone non-elf was a second class citizen.”

She was giving the storm a hard look.

“There was a certain blood quantum you had to fulfill,” she continued, “You...you had to have so much Elven blood, in order to be able to hold down jobs, or have children, or anything like that. They hated anything non-elf. At the height of the revolution, they were butchering entire cities of their non-Elven people.”

Meleko took a moment to absorb that. His frown deepened. No one in the Amber Foundation, save Rosemary, was Elven.

“So it’d be back to that, then,” he said.

“...Yeah.”

Meleko nodded.

“And I...” Rosemary grimaced, “And I...”

She was tearing up.

“Aw, no, Rose,” Meleko said. He patted her shoulder.

“I f-f-feel like I helped with it,” Rosemary said, “If I hadn't... h-helped get us out of there, on Ch-Chliofrond, if I had t-told someone sooner, we wouldn't be here.”

Meleko was quiet. Gave her time to get control of herself. When she glared out, her face was like glass.

“At least you're doing this now, right?” Meleko said.

“Y-Yeah,” Rosemary said, “I just hope it's enough.”

“It will be,” Meleko said.

“What if it's not?”

Meleko glared at her, brandished his rifle. His four eyes boiled with a dark sort of fire.

“It will be.”

***

Celendri was alright, after that hard fall.

But the attack had certainly bruised the Gil-Galad's attack force. Of the team that she had assembled for direct boarding action against the Rithmound ship, just less than half remained. They had been her friends. She missed them, and could not help but feel guilt as she realized just how over her head she had gotten.

These Scuttlers had far more bite than their bark had pronounced. And she could see it in the eyes of her comrades, her guildmates. When the White Feathers had first left Scuttleway, they were professional. Some were even excited – they had been the one to hold the ideals of the Verdant Reclamation closer to their hearts than others, and the chance to enact those ideals...

To remove their lessers...

Well, the excitement was gone now. What had taken its place was an exhaustion. Fear, even, in certain cases. Celendri had lost all four of her daggers after that raid, and she looked lost without them, sitting in her room and staring at the wall.

Whatever the case, another assault on this plane was not an option. Urya cursed. She had hoped to deal enough damage to the Rithmound ship to slow it down, enough that she could use ranged cannonfire to knock it out of the sky. It was too fast.

And now, they had lost it in the blizzard. Damn Skarnorex, they had lost their momentum. It would need to be picked up on the next plane.

Redenia.

She took a deep breath, pacing across the deck. This high up, with cold, bitter winds wailing around them, most of the crew sequestered below. She was fine, however, for she was used to these freezing temperatures after a childhood on Neverspring. It gave her time to think. Time to be alone.

A place to avoid the haunted look her crew gave her.

She found her hands shaking, and not from the cold. She tried to still them, taking deep breaths.

And a small voice wormed its way into her head.

What if she failed?

***

Rosemary and Meleko hunkered down. The Guttersnipe entered the Traveling Point. The world lurched. Rainbows filled Rosemary's vision, cascades of mosaic blues and greens, neon pinks and harsh reds, whites and blacks, peachy creams and oranges that reminded her of Castle Belenus at sunrise, when the morning was cold and dew stuck to the grass and everything seemed alright, not like now, not with everything going on, the death, the quiet sobs that echoed down the halls of the ship, the empty look Ora Sota wore now, after killing the elf.

The blizzard disappeared around them. The snow that had collected on the ship's decks, the ice on its masts, the sleet covering the ropes, all of it was torn away by the sheer power of Imagination. The Guttersnipe arrived on Redenia with very little of Entheos's winter world left, just a few bare patches of ice here and there. That would melt away in the tropical heat in the first hour.

Something new greeted them, something had not been there before.

A Federation vessel. A Shrikeling, large and globular, a planet in miniature, halfmoon wings pointed diagonally to the ground . It floated serenely in the air close to the Traveling Point, its bottom just brushing against the forest of gingkos, cycads, and conifers below. Rosemary and Meleko were looking at it, watching it for signs of trouble, as the ship, on their arrival, began to move towards them.

The crew was making their way up to the top deck. This included Ora Sota, who squinted at the sight of the Shrikeling as it undulated to meet them.

“I'll handle this,” Ora said.

“You sure?” Captain Orvisan said, “It doesn't look friendly.”

“Sh-Shrikelings are not intended to look kind,” Ora said, “They are a message.”

He said little else as he stepped forward, ignoring Captain Orvisan's questioning look. The Shrikeling moved portside to the Guttersnipe. A door opened from its surface, and a bridge extended to connect the two vessels. A Federation soldier stepped out, rifle in hand, their face enclosed with a helmet, the shape of their armor giving them a reptilian appearance, with digitigrade legs and an elongated snout. Ora waited for them to step onto the ship.

“I am Lieutenant Commander Arthrux Drif,” the alien said, “Commanding officer of the ship New Home’s Comfort.”

He gestured to the Shrikeling. Ora cleared his throat.

“I am Ora Sota, multiversal investigator of the High Federation.”

“And that is your reason for being here?”

“Indeed,” Ora Sota said, “We are here to cross the sea to go to another plane. I am investigating a potential case of technological contamination.”

“I see,” Arthrux Drif said, “And these are...?”

“A ship I have chartered for travel,” Ora said, “Along with a pair of guildfolk from the Amber Foundation.”

The alien grunted, taking out a pad and beginning to tap. Ora waited for a few moments, before he grimaced and looked back at the Traveling Point.

“Can we... hurry this along?” he asked.

The alien stopped.

“Any particular reason?”

“We are being pursued,” Ora said.

“By whom?”

“Another guild,” Ora said, “Elves.”

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Arthrux Drif snorted, a low huffing chuff.

“Can't help you there,” he said, “You got two guildfolk with you, which means it's InterGuild territory.”

“I... see,” Ora said.

“If we interfere, it's seen as the High Federation taking an interest in these sorts of affairs. Best we remain neutral, aye?”

Ora nodded. His brow was furrowing, however, as he considered his own role in this. He had already spoken to Rosemary about this a few times. Why he was out here, his entanglement in local politics.

Even a Shrikeling way out here in Redenia was a statement, was it not? There was no neutrality with warships in foreign skies.

But he kept his mouth shut there. And tried a different approach.

“Well,” Ora said, “One Silver Eye local to another, perhaps you could... do something?”

“I'm not going to shoot them down, if that's what you're implying,” Arthrux Drif said, “Nothing of that sort.”

“...No,” Ora said, “No, don't do that. But please, notify my superiors in the Department of Multiversal Irregularities that I am out here. Let them know that...”

He looked back and forth, feigning fear of being overheard. Arthrux Drif leaned in.

“That I am expecting to find a Shard of Imagination.”

The alien let out a low hiss.

“Indeed,” Ora said.

Drif paused for a few moments, considering his words.

“If it's a false lead, I will lose face,” he said, “I've already lost a bit of respect, being sent out here.”

Ora winced. No one in the Silver Eye's military wanted to have a command outside of the Silver Eye. It was seen as a sign that one was a maverick of some sort.

“Do this, then,” Ora said, “I have here a communicator. I'll return back here, to Redenia, with my findings. If they are positive, please relay the information to my superiors at once.”

“...It's a Shard of Imagination?”

“Yes.”

“I'll go back to the Silver Eye myself, if I have to,” Arthrux Drif said.

“Good,” Ora said, “Now, those pursuing us have proven to be violent individuals, potential enemies of the state. Now I know that you cannot face them immediately. But you can delay them, yes?”

Arthrux considered.

“Please do,” Ora said, “Now, are we good to go?”

“...Aye.”

And the alien returned back to his ship. The New Home’s Comfort broke away from the Guttersnipe, moving off towards the Traveling Point.

“What was that all about?” Captain Orvisan asked.

“Federation sentry,” Ora replied, still watching the Shrikeling.

“Any reason why they sent one out here?” Meleko asked.

Memories percolated in Ora's head. He had been speaking to a colleague about this, relatively recently...

“I believe,” he said, “It's part of an initiative from the Reclamationists. They're the big party that has the supermajority in the senate. A... way, I believe, to look out on the more dangerous planes in the multiverse.”

“That's a damn Shrikeling,” Meleko said, “A bit of an escalation, isn't it?”

“Perhaps,” Ora said.

Meleko was quiet. His four eyes narrowed. He did not mention the similarity between the Verdant Reclamation and the Reclamationist’s names. They dealt the same cards. They spoke the same language.

Rosemary drew up beside him, squinting out as the ship made its way to the Traveling Point, keeping watch over it like a great steel eye.

“You handled that well,” she said.

“I've... had to handle quite a bit, these past few days,” Ora said, “I found that doing this was a cakewalk, after what else I've done.”

He didn't need to say much else than that. The guildfolk knew what he meant.

Compared to what was coming, talking to Arthrux Drif was easy.

***

She was Elzan Chi, the Queen of Monsters. A goddess on Redenia. Worshiped by what few sapient species there were on the plane, her territory was the entirety of the sea between Redenia's two continents. She often spent her days in the deepest bottom of the ocean, plying the bottoms for deep cracks in Redenia's foundations, where she could drink in the energies of the multiverse.

There were no whales on Redenia, for Elzan Chi had eaten them. The other monsters that lived in these parts of the seas lived in a migratory pattern that involved always being on the other side of the ocean from where she stalked. For if she found them, she ate them, too. The Manticore would be proud.

The Guttersnipe took to the sky above the sea carefully. Orvisan glanced at Rosemary and Ora. Rosemary gave him a thumbs up. Ora gave a grim nod.

And the caravel moved forward.

***

The Gil-Galad crested out of the Traveling Point, dipping, for a moment, in the sky. It righted itself, moving upwards.

Directly into the path of the Shrikeling. Urya froze at the sight of it.

Was the Federation already here?

No. She had heard from her contacts in the Silver Eye. It was part of the Silver Eye's initiatives to station more dangerous ships in the multiverse. They had probably chosen a Shrikeling because of Elzan Chi.

And yet...

And yet, a Shrikeling, presumably with a glassmaker, this close to the dead plane, was an ill omen indeed.

“Gods,” Celendri said, “I hate the sight of it.”

“As do I,” Urya said. She grimaced, feeling her scar tighten. She had earned it in the Silver Eye, helping a small community of Elven refugees get off-plane. The Federation had found them, and declared their existence in the Silver Eye illegal.

And the sky had been filled with Shrikelings then. She shuddered.

Her life was full of nothing but bad memories, was it not?

The Shrikeling came down portside to the Gil-Galad. A bridge extended out, and a High Federation soldier stepped out onto the ship. He ignored the leering looks the crew gave him as he took out a pad.

“I am Lieutenant Commander Arthrux Drif,” he rasped, “Of the Federation starship New Home’s Comfort. And, you are...?”

“Don't have time for this,” Urya said.

“Odd name.”

“I am Urya Orna, of the guild White Feathers. I am here on behalf of a client. I have the proper identification.”

“Of course,” the alien said, “Please, present it to me.”

She did so.

He took it in hand, and though she could not see through the alien's opaque helmet, she could tell he was considering it.

“This checks out, I suppose,” the alien said, “But there's more than one of you savages onboard, isn't there...?”

She kept a steady hold over her emotions as she gave a slight nod.

“I'll need all of your IDs, then,” the alien said, “Please.”

And the White Feathers and the crew of the Gil-Galad began to hand in their IDs. The alien waited patiently as they did so, hand on his rifle. He yawned a bit as they went.

When all was said and done, the lizard had a small deck of guild IDs, merchant passes, and other identifying cards in hand. He sorted through them. Slowly.

He looked up at Urya.

“I'm going to need to run all of these,” he said, “Sit tight.”

And he turned around, and walked back into the Shrikeling.

Urya glared at his back. The Federation investigator was responsible for this nonsense, wasn't he? The Shrikeling could not shoot down the Gil-Galad. It would do the next best thing. It would delay them. Make them wait. And the whole time, the damn Scuttler caravel was making its way across the ocean.

She grimaced.

For a moment, she considered having the Gil-Galad move away.

Then, taking a deep breath, she went over to one of the mages still alive onboard the ship.

“Malis,” she said.

“Aye.”

“Unleash a few of the air elementals still in our employ,” Urya said, “Send them at the caravel.”

“A-Are you sure?” Malis said, “Always a chance that they'll get all riled up again, and-”

“We're in clear skies,” Urya said, “No storm to jog their senses. And we're going to be stuck here for a while.”

She glared at the Shrikeling.

“So get to work at it.”

Malis nodded. Raised a hand. The air just off the starboard side began to coalesce and churn like a heat mirage. The wind elementals took off, rippling away from the two ships. Urya watched them go, trying her hardest to still her shaking hands.

They were getting far too close to the dead plane.

Far too close, indeed.

***

“So tell me,” Ora said to Rosemary, “How did you cross the sea before, if this... Queen of Monsters, live here?”

“Two of our guildmates came here last time, before the expedition,” Rosemary said, “Tek and Aristo. Tek for logistical support, running numbers, all of that jazz. Aristo's a language expert. Can speak pretty much every language that I can think of, and then some.”

She looked down at the dark waters below.

“Can... Elzan Chi, does she understand us?” Ora said, “I've heard tales of her, but...”

“Oh, yeah, from what Aristo told us, it's fine,” Rosemary said, “And I think we're in luck, too. The seas are calm. That means all the other nasties are staying out of her way. Otherwise we'd be getting attacked right about now.”

“Oh,” Ora said, an octave higher than usual, “That's nice.”

Rosemary gave him a lopsided grin.

“You're really scared, aren't you?”

He gave a quiet nod.

“It's alright,” Rosemary said, “We've worked with Elzan Chi before. We've got our... our offering-”

She said this part with a forced cheer.

“-And I think it will be enough. So long as she eats, she's happy.”

“I...I suppose I know that feeling,” Ora said. He glanced down.

And the dark waters began to churn. Far below, the sea frothed milk-white and shuddered as she rose from the depths. What Ora realized to be her neck came up first, a scaled arc with the thickness of a tower, easily able to reach the Guttersnipe above. Then came her head, vaguely arrow-shaped. Massive. Easily twice the size of the caravel. Eyes the size of worlds looked down at the little ship. Mast-sized fangs filled her maw. She opened her mouth, and it was like staring into the void. The air reeked of dying fish.

A deep rumble emanated from her, shook the ship, shook the world, the very air vibrated and threatened to break like glass. The crew braced themselves, holding onto the mast, onto the railings, Orvisan onto the steering wheel. High above, Meleko held onto the ropes of the crow's nest.

For a moment, all was still. Elzan Chi was staring at them. Expectant.

She had not eaten them yet.

She was waiting for tribute.

Orvisan glanced up at the crow's nest. At Meleko, who was taking a deep breath. He stood tall from the crow's nest, four eyes staring down her maw.

“Elzan Chi!” he roared, “I come bearing tribute!”

The Queen waited.

Meleko pointed back.

“Behind us is a ship! The Gil-Galad, you remember it? White as a bone!”

Elzan Chi growled, her voice so low that they almost couldn't hear it. A series of clicks crackled from deep within her throat, like whalesong, so loud that Meleko instinctively put his hands out to protect himself.

When he drew them back, he had lost all feeling in his arms.

Lord, just being in her presence was dangerous. She didn't need to even eat them. Just her voice was enough to kill them all.

Meleko gestured back.

“She's-” he felt so quiet compared to her, “She's behind us! Go get her! Let us pass!”

There was silence.

Then something shot from Elzan Chi's mouth. A sliver of red. It wrapped itself around Meleko.

And pulled him to her.

“Meleko!” Rosemary screamed. But he was gone in an instant. Elzan Chi closed her maw, and stood stock still. Rosemary sunk to her knees, her eyes wide, her mouth flickering between a thin, shocked line and a frown. The crew simply stood, their jaws agape. Ora, however, was on the ground, clutching his bleeding ears. His hearing was more sensitive.

And the noise she made.

The noise.

She was not just roaring and grumbling and clicking. Below that was something more. Whispers that only a Nelnuthan could register.

And she was still making them.

She opened her mouth again.

The sliver of her tongue unraveled, releasing Meleko from her grip. He was shuddering, his eyes closed, hugging himself in a fetal position, like he was fighting a bad cold.

“What did you do?” Rosemary whispered, then, “What did you do?!”

But the Queen of Monsters was already sinking down, a collapsing tower, into the waves. Her head disappeared completely. The water fizzled on the surface, a quilt of whites and darks.

Rosemary ran over to Meleko's side, checking him over. He was completely sodden with her saliva – there must have been a paralyzing agent. A couple crewmates went over by her side, including one of the medics.

One of them, too, went to Ora. His ears were ringing, his fur still matted with his blood, as he rose unsteadily to his feet. He could not hear the medic as they spoke to him.

“Captain,” one of them, Mori, said, “Air elementals. They're going to hit us portside.”

Orvisan, who had been staring at where Elzan Chi had just been, snapped to attention.

“Elementals?” he said.

“Aye, Captain,” Mori said, “Must be from the Gil-Galad, since they themselve can't make an appearance.”

Orvisan grimaced, then nodded.

“Get Zad,” he said, “Everyone, battle stations, now!”

***

Ora was gestured to go down to the infirmary, which he did. But he could not shake his own suspicions as he went down. They had to load Meleko onto a stretcher, moving him down behind the Nelnuthan. Rosemary was pale faced, but she stayed above on the top deck in order to face the oncoming assault.

He was sat down on a bed. The medic patted him on the shoulder, and began to write something out. He had to use a translator to understand what she was saying, but he understood well enough. They had to attend to others before him, in case things got bad.

And, so far, whenever they had gotten into an engagement, things had gotten bad. So he understood.

All Ora could hear was the ringing. A dull pain throbbed behind his eyes as he leaned back, trying not to think about what was happening on the deck. Once more, people were risking their lives for him. And there was nothing he could do.

The ship shook. He wondered what had caused that. Air elementals, as far as he had learned, cut their prey to pieces. They whipped their forms around like curved blades, miniature tornadoes that sheared away flesh, bit by bit, until the target was dead.

He suppressed a shiver. He had no right to be disgusted by such a thing.

He had killed someone in just a gruesome a way.

Perhaps the multiverse had made killers of all. Or, perhaps, that was just the nature of things. He could not surmise. Whenever he thought of the elf he had killed back on Entheos, he felt nothing but guilt.

Meleko was turning to his side in his stupor, and Ora could see that he was muttering to himself.

The ship shuddered again. Ah, now he could hear something. A shout, muted and distant.

What had she done to him?

More importantly, why?

Certainly not to eat him. If she wanted to do that, she could have simply swallowed. It would be like eating an Argosan ant.

She had...

Ora blinked.

She had still been speaking to him.

She had still been clicking and rumbling.

He rose unsteadily to his feet. Walked over to Meleko's side.

“Meleko,” he could barely hear his own voice, which sounded muted, “What did she say?”

He put his damaged ear right next to the Jugdran's mouth. Even damaged, even bleeding, it was still better hearing than most of the crew. He strained, shutting his eyes and concentrating, trying to hear Meleko through the world of rings.

He was just repeating the same word. Over and over and over again, quietly and breathlessly.

“Stay.”

***

The air elementals had torn through the rigging. The sails. They bore down on the crew now, snarling, miniature tornadoes that, in the calm day, could hardly be seen. Rosemary swung her sceptre at them, connecting with hardened air here and there. Zad was tossing salt into the sky. Weapons were being swung. But the elementals had learned after the bout on Entheos. They were keeping their distance. Picking at the crew like buzzards.

Captain Orvisan was bleeding from the side of his head, red streaming down and staining his beard. He grimaced as he limped over to Rosemary's side.

“We need to get out of here,” he said.

“What about Elzan Chi?” Rosemary asked.

“Damn the monster, damn it all,” Orvisan said, “We're sitting ducks. It's only a matter of time before-”

“The Gil-Galad!” Mori screamed, “On the horizon!”

Rosemary looked out. Sure enough, the white ship was making her way towards them. She squinted, watching as figures on the deck were preparing the one cannon on her deck.

“Get me to the wheel,” Orvisan said, “Go!”

Rosemary complied, her sceptre shining like a star as she fired off beams of light at the elementals above. Orvisan kept his head down, running despite his limp. He made his wheel to the wheel, noted how slick with blood his hands had become. He ran them down the length of his coat before grabbing on. He started to spin.

“CAPTAIN!”

The voice was Ora's.

“Ora!” Rosemary yelled, “Get down!”

But the Nelnuthan was stumbling up from the stairs. Rosemary, grimacing, pointed her sceptre, firing off a beam of light as one of the elementals swooped down at him. It speared through, and the elemental dispersed. But Ora didn't seem to notice as he called at Orvisan again.

“CAPTAIN!” he said again, “DON'T MOVE!”

“Not an option!” Orvisan roared back, “Gil-Galad's out there now!”

“MELEKO SAYS WE HAVE TO STAY!” Ora said. It was as though he were shouting more to hear himself than anything.

“Meleko...?” Orvisan said. He blinked.

Far away, the cannon on the Gil-Galad flashed. A moment later, a cannonball collided with the Guttersnipe, a direct hit that tore through her center. The entire ship lurched to the side.

The resulting boom resounded a moment later, as sound caught up with action. Orvisan spun the ship's wheel, turning the Guttersnipe to face the Gil-Galad. A smaller target, facing the galleon head-on.

“WE HAVE TO STAY!” Ora screeched again. His voice was hoarse. Rosemary wondered if he had even shouted this loud before, or if he was yelling out of fear or to hear himself through his bleeding ears, “STAY!”

“We can't!” Orvisan said, “Another hit like that, and we're through!”

But Ora could not hear him. Instead, he took another step forward.

“STAY!”

“Captain,” Rosemary said, “Maybe he's right.”

“How could he be?” Orvisan said, “You saw the alien. He was paralyzed. How could Sota even hear him? He's-”

He grimaced as a cannon shot right past the Guttersnipe's starboard side.

“Trust him,” Rosemary said, “I think that's all you can do.”

“We have to...” Orvisan hesitated.

Far below, the sea began to churn.

“...Alright,” Orvisan said, “We wait.”

Another cannon whizzed by, almost clipped the mast.

Then another, this one scraping the Guttersnipe's hull. The elementals were still spearing towards them, the crew waving swords, salt, anything to keep them from picking them off. One of the elementals managed to grab Mori, who was lifted into the air and dropped off the side of the ship.

And yet they waited.

Far below, the sea began to churn once more. It moved, like the bulging of a wave, towards the Gil-Galad.

And Elzan Chi broke upwards.

***

The maw rose up on either side of the Gil-Galad like the sides of a canyon. Urya's eyes widened in shock at the sight of the teeth, the void, the clickings that rumbled from deep below. The crew were covering their ears as pure sound hit them, rumblings and clatterings and voices deeper still.

“Fight back!” Urya roared, “Fire the cannon!”

She was pulling her revolvers out, her heart racing. The cannoneer was swiveling the cannon 'round, aimed it for a moment, lit the fuse. The entire ship shook as it fired, though the boom was drowned out by the chorus of clicks.

For a moment, they ceased, as the cannonball struck home.

Then they started back up again, louder this time, as though Elzan Chi was screaming.

Celendri was on the ground, curled up, sobbing. A few of the others were, as well. Urya pointed up her revolvers, and opened fire. In the approaching false dusk, the muzzle flashes lit up the world, illuminating Urya's face. It was taut with fear. With shock.

And the bullets did nothing to dissuade the Queen of Monsters.

God does not care for the plight of the ant.

Urya fell to her knees. Dropped her weapons, for she knew she did not need them anymore. Many of the elves had gone silent, or perhaps...

Something felt slick on either side of her head. She dabbed her ear with a numb finger, and it came away red.

The sobbings, the cries, the screams, all had been replaced by ringing.

Water. No, saliva, deluged them as Elzan Chi's mouth closed. The world was one of darkness, and as the maw became an inner sea, the sound traveled better, the clicks became louder, more intense, until all that Urya could feel was their vibrations thrumming through her ribcage.

And all became silent.

***

Elzan Chi's mouth closed over the Gil-Galad. And that was that.

The air elementals, bereft of a master, dispersed. The Guttersnipe was left alone. All that was left to do was to stare at the Queen of Monsters as she disappeared back into the depths, her serpentine neck arcing down into the brine.

And that had only been her neck. Her body had never once reached the surface.

“Well,” Orvisan whispered, “I see why we needed the tribute.”

Rosemary was stone-faced as she stared out at where the Gil-Galad had been. Sunala's ship was gone. Forever. She had helped consign all of those people to their deaths. Part of her was relieved. The White Feathers had been trying to kill them.

But part of her felt like something had been torn away from her. Felt guilt. But then, she realized she would always feel guilt.

Guilt for helping kill these people.

Guilt for believing them, too. For, at one point, supporting that which they died for.

“Alright,” Orvisan said, “Can we move?”

Rosemary glanced back at Ora Sota. He was looking out, too, and his face was just as mask-like as hers. He met her gaze, and gave a grim nod.

“Yeah,” she said, “Let's go.”