Tip. Tap.

Even through the hull, Wen heard the rain pulsing down on the ship in a steady run. She held a silver metal cylinder in her hand as she sat on her bed, focusing her curse on making the cylinder colder. Inside were her bullets, special creations made of crystal that would break and unleash the power of her curse on whatever they broke against. She embraced the chill that ran through her arms as she focused on the cylinder.

When she first came to the nightsea, before she knew the entire place was called Erth, her main problem was that her curse wasn't useful. It was the ability to make things cold. That's all it was. Unless she wanted to run around with a cold hunk of metal, and she didn't, considering her size and strength, she couldn't use it for much more than giving people a mild case of frostbite with her hands. She was lucky when she had run into someone who knew what they were doing. That man had brought her into the bounty-hunting world and showed her the ropes. He had found a way to make her curse useful.

He was the reason that 'Cold Shot' even existed.

She focused on the cylinder, even as water droplets dripped from the ceiling above her. She focused until the cylinder was so cold that ice formed on the outside of it, turning it into a white frozen cylinder. When it reached that point, she released it and laid it on the bed to warm up. She had twelve shots left in her revolvers and six in her rifle. She would have to make do with that until the can warmed and allowed her to make more bullets.

With that done, she was left with ship-watching duty, the same as Jean. Her second mission was to keep an eye on the slaver's ship, but that had to wait until after the storm passed over. No level of insanity would compel a person to sail in the storm that raged outside. She stood up, feeling a faint grumble in her stomach as she wished they had gotten the supplies in. They had eaten lunch, but considering the three days without food before, that was only a little to tide her over.

"Can't fix it in this storm," she whispered, walking toward the kitchen.

She knew there was no chance that Sayed had missed any possible scrap of food when he had searched over the last three days. She also knew that it would be pointless to try. However, that didn't mean she wasn't going to try. It would give her something to do while she waited for the storm to blow over. She went down the hall and toward the kitchen, hoping but knowing that she would only meet despair.

"Wen!" Jean came running down the hall, Mari in tow.

"What?" she asked, stopping and putting a hand on her hip.

"I just wanted to make sure that I received the funds Alex has set aside for the repairs," he said, holding out a hand. "If you would watch Mari, I will go and find Gel to pay him, and maybe they could start on the repairs sooner."

"Sure." Wen sighed, pulling out the bag that held the coins and handing them over. "Don't overpay. We need the rest to outfit the ship as best we can—supplies and the works."

"I'll be sure of it," Jean said, taking the bag and heading up the stairs. "Gel and I are already on good terms."

Wen shook her head, looking down at Mari as she stood in the hall. The girl put Wen on edge. She had an uncanny look to her. For the most part, she looked like a human, but Wen couldn't ignore the black lines that ran across her face and up to her too-large glowing eyes. While the red cloak and clothes did much to cover the uncanny nature of her appearance, her long white hair and bleached white skin were dead giveaways that she wasn't human.

"Come on then," she said, heading toward the kitchen. "Let's see if Sayed was wrong."

Mari followed her silently as she walked into the kitchen. Wen froze at the entrance, noticing a humanoid figure that shouldn't have been there standing in the middle of the room next to the table. Wen's hand immediately went to her revolver, and she drew it faster than the person could react. She lined up her shot, her finger on the trigger and ready to fire the moment she was sure the person was an enemy.

"Who are you?" Wen demanded.

"Oh, dear," the woman said, smiling at Wen. "I thought that I would have some time, but I was wrong. You're 'Cold Shot,' aren't you?"

The woman wore a long black dress covered in several lace windows that showed pale skin beneath. A broad black cap of similar style rested on her head, and her arms were covered up to her shoulders in long black lace gloves. She held one hand over the other in front of her, both placed near her stomach, as she watched Wen with cold blue eyes. Wen didn't blink as she stared down the woman. Nothing about her belonged on the Nighthawk.

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"Second chance," Wen said, cocking the hammer of her revolver. "Who are you?"

"Now, dear," the woman said. "Don't do anything you might regret. I was prepared to have a polite conversation with you, but if you turn violent, I'm afraid that I'll have to become very unladylike. You wouldn't want me to do that."

Hiss-bang.

Wen didn't like the idea of shooting within the confines of the Nighthawk. For the first part, the shot was loud, and her ears rang the second the bullet fired. For the second part, if she missed, it could cause damage to the ship. They were already paying for repairs. She didn't want to be the one that added to the cost. However, the gun was the way she used her curse. It was either that or give up and allow herself to be taken by the strange woman.

Crack. Ksh.

Her bullet's tip cracked against the wall of the kitchen, ice quickly spreading around the wall where the bullet landed. Wen looked at the ice in shock, right through a massive hole that had opened up in the woman's body. Wen didn't need a monologue to know the woman had a curse as she saw droplets of water drip from the hole in the woman's chest.

"That was terribly dangerous," the woman said. "It's a good thing I know you, 'Cold Shot.' You're my natural enemy when it comes to curses, so I don't want to give you the opportunity to land one of your shots."

Wen licked her lips. Even with the advantage, she didn't know if she could take down the woman. She had five shots left in her current revolver—six in the second. Her rifle lay in her room, its six shots useless. She had eleven shots to figure out how to beat whoever this woman was.

"Who's that?"

Mari came in from behind Wen, and Wen held out a hand. The woman smiled, looking at Mari, her face warming as the edges of her head turned translucent.

"I'm just a visitor," the woman said. "Who might you be, little one? You certainly look odd."

Hiss-bang. Hiss-bang.

Wen fired off two more shots in quick succession, stepping between Mari and the woman. Both shots went right through her body, two more holes forming to make sure not a single bullet touched her skin. Both shots cracked against the wall, spreading the ice further across the metal surface. Wen could only hope it wouldn't cause permanent damage as she turned, took Mari into her arms, and ran.

She could try to get up the stairs and out before the woman caught up with her. Wen didn't know how the rain would affect the woman's curse, but it was a better option than just standing there and firing uselessly at her. She would just keep creating holes until Wen ran out of bullets. That was a losing scenario, no matter what Wen tried. She beat her way up the stairs two at a time until she stood at the exit door. It was sealed tight against the hull, and she'd have to turn the wheel to get out.

"Stay close to the door," she told Mari, and Mari nodded as Wen holstered her gun.

She pulled hard on the wheel, and it creaked against her arms. It was true that the nightsea, the Erth, made people stronger. An essence of sorts permeated everything across the Erth. People took it in when they breathed. They digested it in what they ate. It was even in the water they drank. It was aether, and it allowed people to do feats that Wen would have thought impossible back on Earth. However, all of those things required training. It required concerted effort, and Wen's focus on her weapons had allowed her to ignore that.

That was why it took her precious seconds too long to open the door.

"Why are you running, dears?" The woman ascended the stairs like a rising tide, her body flowing as a mass of water before coalescing back into her form. "I only wish to speak with you. Even with your rudeness earlier, I did not come here to start a fight."

"Then why are you on this ship?" Wen asked, her hands on her guns at her hip.

She didn't draw them again, not yet. While she was certain they would be useful, she needed the right opportunity. She needed a distraction. Unfortunately, it was only her and Mari aboard the ship. If Jean hadn't just left, she might have had the chance to hit the woman while she was distracted. At the moment, the best she could hope for was delay. If she delayed long enough, Jean might come back. Though, he would have to come right through the door behind her.

Wen would need to move the woman.

"I'm here because I saw a curiosity," the woman said. "Who would imagine a bounty hunter sailing with a group of outlaws? There has to be some terrible gossip there, and the world runs on information. More than dolers, more than power, knowing the truth of things is the greatest power that exists in this world."

"I have a set of circumstances," Wen said, eyeing the woman. "If they were different, I wouldn't be with these outlaws, but I need them to get what I want. It's that simple."

"What circumstances would compel you, though?" the woman asked. "Don't tell me you're one of the fools who thinks they're going to make it to Magnus Hortus? The Military Police will make certain you don't. That message was a distraction and nothing more."

"That's part of it," Wen said. "There's more than that. But I think that message has more truth than you do."

"Oh, the information was definitely true," the woman said. "Anyone who is in the know knew it already. No, the fact that the Scions invited people to come closer to the Core is a deception. They're just using it to draw in malcontents. They have no desire to let outlaws sully the Dark Meridian or the New World with Erth's problems."

Wen narrowed her eyes.

"You think they can stop all of it at once? There have to be hundreds of outlaws running for the Core already. It's been days since the message went out."

"Days." The woman laughed. "There's already new ships and designs out and available. Even those little guidebooks from the message have been distributed. Most people don't care. They just want to live their lives. Hundreds of outlaws are nothing to the Military Police, not in the Core. You're a bounty hunter. You know that to be true."

Wen couldn't deny that she was right, but as she talked, she noticed something on the floor. A trail of water reached out from the woman's feet toward Wen. It came out from the woman's foot, and Wen noticed that her boot's toe was completely transparent. Wen drew her gun in the blink of an eye, firing a shot at the ground between them in the puddle. Sound exploded around her as the shot went off, and ice crackled across the floor.

Hiss-bang. Crack.

"Ah, that is unfortunate," the woman said as ice formed across the puddle. "I will have to get serious then."