CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FIVE - A HAPPY SORT OF BUSY

I had everyone on the Beaver’s crew gather in the kitchen the next morning. I’d gotten some eggs and bacon, as well as some of that potato salad from July. That with some fresh bread and a can of beans made for a big, hearty breakfast.

If I wasn’t so active, I’d be afraid of gaining weight with such a big meal, even if I wasn’t touching half of it.

The crew seemed pretty happy though. Except for Awen.

“A... awa,” she said. It wasn’t just any ‘awa’ though, this was a pained ‘awa.’

Awen’s head was resting against the table, both arms folded up over to hide her from the light. Sally was patting her back a bit awkwardly. “Is she okay?” she asked.

“Awen drank too much,” I said.

Oda chuckled. “Looks like it.”

“Awa,” Awen complained. Her arms wiggled a bit, but it didn’t go much further than that.

Oda, Sally, and Joe were sitting next to each other, with Steve and Gordon, our harpy crewbirds, next to them. Clive was on the opposite side, next to Bastion, who had finished eating before anyone else.

Amaryllis was next to me, and at the head of the table, sitting on the table, was Orange, who had a bowl of mixed leftovers before her. She would be very miffed if I didn’t serve her anything, even if she didn’t plan on eating any of it.

Orange was one hard working kitty, and she took her job--sleeping on the Beaver Cleaver’s duck-shaped figureheads--very seriously.

“Right, I suppose someone mature ought to take care of this one,” Amaryllis said. “We are four days behind our original schedule. We were meant to arrive a week before the official delegation. Now, if we hurry up and don’t spend any time on unimportant things on the way, we might still arrive a day or two ahead of the delegation.”

“That’s still good, right?” I asked.

“It’s imperative that we arrive before them,” Amaryllis said. “It will give us time to settle in and get a good idea of how things are going in Sylphfree. If the delegation is delayed, or fails to arrive, it will mean we’re in a better position to take over.”

“What’s all this about a delegation?” Joe asked.

The Scallywags hadn’t really been informed about all that, had they? “There’s trouble brewing between a few countries,” I said. “Mostly Sylphfree, the Trenten Flats, and the Harpy Mountains. I think Deepmarsh and Mattergrove are involved too. If things go wrong, it might mean a sort of really messy fight.”

Amaryllis huffed and unrolled a map. There were three lines across it. “This is the path the delegation is meant to take. From Fort Sylphrot, to Farseeing, around to Fort Daggerscar, then into Sylph skies.”

“The government will make them go around the long way,” Bastion said. “North first, then around and south. It’s safer, but significantly longer. Mostly it’ll be a show of force.”

Amaryllis nodded. “Good, that will add... maybe two days to their travel time?”

“How fast are they?” I asked.

“Not very,” Amaryllis said. “The ship they're leaving in is a retrofitted cargo-hauler. A nice vessel now, to be sure, but it’s only hull-deep; that thing has engines two generations older than what the Beaver has.”

“What kind?” Awen asked, still sounding bleary.

“Nautilus, I think,” Amaryllis said.

“Those overheat,” Awen said. “Annoying to maintain.”

Amaryllis shrugged. “If you say so. They’ll have mechanics with them, and a pair of escort ships. They’re supposed to take a week to travel across, stops included.”

“That’s pretty slow,” I said.

Amaryllis grumped. “The Beaver is significantly faster. We can hit thirty knots, right?” the last she asked to Clive.

“More, when the wind’s in our favour,” the old harpy said. “He’s not the fastest ship, but this boy here’s not loaded down with anything at all. We’re running light.”

“Still,” Amaryllis said. She traced the path we were supposed to take. “We left a week early, on a course that would only take us six or so days. The delegation was going to leave the day after we arrived, winds willing.”

“And now?”

“Today’s the day we were supposed to arrive in Goldenalden,” Amaryllis said.

“Oh,” I said. “We’re really late.”

“We still have a week,” Amaryllis said. “That’s how long the delegation will take to get there. A week to travel from here”—she tapped Insmouth on the map—“to here.” The tip of her talon traced over to Goldenalden, then tapped down twice.

“That’s pretty far,” I said.

Clive leaned forwards. “It’s not all bad. The winds over Methal Bay are strong; they wrap around south to north. It will be hard over the Hoofbreaker woods, but once we’re past that, we’ll have the wind at our backs the entire time. Without wind, I’d say it’ll take seven, eight days to make it. With good winds, we can cut off a day or two.”

Awen raised a hand. “We have oil, but no actual fuel. We can burn it, but it’s not good for the engines in the long run. And we don’t have enough to make it either way. We left with enough fuel to fly for ten days.”

“And it’s been seven, with another seven coming up,” Amaryllis said.

“Our fuel bunkers aren’t very big,” Awen said.

I tapped my chin. “We can stop by the Grey Wall,” I said. “Just a quick stop, for fuel and to resupply, then we continue. Do they sell fuel there?”

“They do,” Clive said. “Been there before. Bad prices, but they’ll have some.”

“So, that’s the plan then. We rush over to the Grey Wall, see if anyone needs help, and if they don--” I cut myself off on seeing Amaryllis’ look. “Uh. I mean, we go there, gas up, and move on?”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s exactly right. No stopping any longer than we need to.”

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“Not even to sight-see?” I asked.

“No, not even to sight-see.”

I pouted. “That’s no fun.”

“We’re doing a job, Broccoli. We’re not here to muck about.”

“We’re on an adventure; mucking about is half the goal,” I said. “But... but, I know that you’re right. We should get to Sylphfree sooner rather than later. Are there any shortcuts we could take?”

“Shortcuts?” Amaryllis asked. “No, Broccoli, it’s nearly a straight flight.”

Bastion shifted. “That’s not entirely true. Once in Sylphfree, you’ll need to navigate around some of the mountains. Your map isn’t entirely accurate with them either. I suspect the delegation’s going to be dragged around too. It would make for a good show of military might to have them fly over some known bases with more than their usual share of ships.”

“That doesn’t sound like a shortcut,” Amaryllis said.

“I could, in theory, use my position as a paladin to allow us quick passage to the capital. Fewer inspections.”

I grinned. “That would be super,” I said.

“It wouldn’t work with a crew mostly made up of harpy though,” Bastion said.

Amaryllis hummed while running her talon through her wing feathers. “In that case, could we hide some of the crew? Or disguise them? Broccoli, and Awen and the Scallywags should be enough to operate the ship, I suspect. We’ll still need to stop and get a permit to fly the Beaver to the capital.”

“Perhaps,” Bastion said. “We... you could hire some temporary sylph crewmates as well.”

“Neat!” I said. “More friends.”

Breakfast didn’t last much longer than that. Awen hardly touched hers, I noticed, but she was a bit under the weather. I picked things up, cleaning them as I went, and set the leftovers away while the crew dispersed and got ready to take off.

Awen stayed at the table while I put things away and everyone else except for Orange left.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Orange shrugged.

“I meant Awen,” I said to the cat.

She gave me a kitty glare, and I giggled a bit as I moved over and scooped her up for a quick hug. She didn’t like that much, but even if she had grown a bit, she was still just a young cat, and she couldn’t squirm away from my affections yet.

“There, consider yourself snuggled, young lady,” I said as I set her down. “Now get back to work. And keep an eye on everyone while you’re above, okay?”

Orange gave me a kitty huff before sauntering off.

“Broccoli,” Awen said.

“Yup?”

“I think I’m dying.”

I held back a laugh. “Oh?” I asked. It wasn’t nice to laugh at a friend. I pulled up a chair next to hers, then gave her a side hug. “How’s your health?”

“It’s fine,” she said. “But my head hurts, and I’m... urgh.”

“Right, let’s get you some more water, and then you can go take a small nap, alright? You’ll feel better by this afternoon, I’m sure. Maybe some tea instead of water? I have some for aches.”

“Please.”

I ran my fingers through her hair, straightening it out a bit before I got up and set some water to boiling.

A few minutes later, Awen drank her tea and I pushed a bit of bread on her just to make sure her tummy wouldn’t be empty. Then it was off to bed with her. Her room was... a bit of a mess, I noticed. I could clean the dirt and dust with a glance, but there was a lot of picking up to do. Something for when Awen wasn’t in such rough shape. She definitely deserved a morning off.

I tucked her in, but I think she barely noticed. “Good night,” I said before closing the door to her room carefully. Then it was up and onto the deck with me, but not before picking up my captain’s hat.

The Captaining skill I gained from my captain’s hat combined with my own skill, pushing it to Rank D. Not super, but it was kinda neat to have skills working in tandem like that.

The deck of the Beaver was... not all that chaotic, really. We didn’t have a crew big enough for anyone to be bumping into anyone else. The Scallywags and our harpy crew were setting things up, checking the lines, and generally getting into position. Clive was at the wheel, with Amaryllis next to him, a map pinned down on the bannister with what looked like a bit of magic trickery.

“Are we all ready?” I asked as I climbed up to the top of the quarter deck.

“Aye, Captain,” Clive said. “On your word.”

I took a deep breath and scanned the world beyond the Beaver. Insmouth looked peaceful, little ships still setting out to water from the port, and plumes of white smoke rising from chimneys. The skies were bright, bright blue, cloudless and inviting. There was a smidge of wind coming from the... west, I thought. It would be at our side for a bit of the trip, something to keep in mind.

“Okay then,” I said before I made myself louder. “Engines on! Anchors up! All foresails to full and mizen sails to quarter!”

The crew snapped to it and I got an impressed, if a little confused, look from Amaryllis. Was my Captaining skill finally working?

“Clive, nose in the air, we have some catching up to do.”

“Aye, aye!” he replied.

The huge propeller started to spin up. The engine rumbled in protest for a bit, then started to roar while plumes of black-ish smoke puttered out from the sides of the ship. I’d have to clean that off before the smoke stained the Beaver’s bright yellow paint.

The anchors were weighted and with a lurch, the Beaver left the ground.

Some folk from Insmouth were there watching us, so I made sure to raise my hat and wave our goodbyes.

It was off to the next leg of our adventure for us. We had a bit of urgency, but nothing too critical. I was sure we’d find some time for a few smaller adventures along the way.

“Stop grinning so much, you dolt. And to think I thought you looked mature for a moment.”

***