image [https://i.imgur.com/okkDqLf.png]

“By the grace of the gods!” Mr. Underbrook gasped, clutching his head in disbelief.

This was the first time either of us witnessed Renna’s unique powers for ourselves. We had watched as Renna ran up to the house, reached out her arm, and summoned the ethereal rope. We saw it coil in the air, latch onto Cassa’s arm, and gently settle him to the ground. We then saw it slump to the ground in a disorganised pile, hitting the floor at much the same time that Renna’s unconscious body did.

Cassa got to his feet, still unsure of the reality of the situation. He shook himself off and hoisted Renna’s arm above his head, lifting her up to carry. He dared not to look back. He knew that some of the pirates must have seen that particular display, no matter how preoccupied they had been with the fire. Any delay meant the difference between life and death. He kept those glowing eyes of his forward on the path ahead.

Mr. Underbrook could see the slow progress they were making and knew he had to help. He threw caution to the wind and ran out to meet them, his aging legs taking him as fast as they could.

“Confound it!” exclaimed Mr. Underbrook as he arrived to them. He picked up Renna’s other arm and got it over his shoulder. “This is truly a most remarkable and foolish day.”

“You’re going to have to tell me about that little trick of hers,” replied Cassa as the pair marched towards the dock. “Just who did we house in our jails?”

“I’m afraid I have far more questions than you do at this stage,” said Mr. Underbrook, avoiding the question. “I assume that mess in the manor was your doing.”

“You know what they say about desperate times,” said Cassa with an exasperated sigh. “We can fill each other in later, then.”

“Indeed,” answered Mr. Underbrook before both fell silent and focused solely on the walk ahead.

I took a step forward, but a flare of pain in my chest made me realise that I was in no condition to help anyone. Cassa and Mr. Underbrook had Renna covered, so I turned around and started making my way to the boathouse at the end of the pier. I was moving slower than they were, though. By the time I reached the doors, the other three had caught up with me.

Cassa pulled the key out of his pocket and threw it my way. My hands fumbled, but I managed to catch it. I was still worse for wear after the onslaught I had endured. With a turn of the heavy lock, I unlocked the doors.

They opened into a large room, most of which was taken up by the vessel tied down and floating in the water at the centre. To the right were two large doors, leading to the open water.

The boat was a sloop, a small vessel with just enough space for a handful of crew. It was a scout ship, not fitted with any cannons of its own. It struck me that this particular sloop had a small forecastle, a viewing platform usually reserved for much larger vessels for the captain to scan the horizons. Additionally, there was a large machine I didn’t recognise attached to its stern.

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A staunch plank of wood made a bridge from the edge of the floor and onto the ship’s deck.

“Quickly,” said Cassa as we moved to the plank, “let us cross first.”

Cassa didn’t wait for us to go. He hopped the gap and turned to help the rest of us get on board. Next went Mr. Underbrook and Renna, with Cassa’s assistance. The two of them took care in helping Renna’s body, still mostly unconscious, to the deck safely. I was the last to board. I was still weak, so I had to work hard to keep myself steady.

The Cassa and Mr. Underbrook took Renna to the forecastle. During this time, I was just waiting on deck, leaning up against the mast. Ordinarily I would have been running around and getting the ship in order, but my injuries rooted me in place.

When they had safely placed Renna down to rest on the floor, they returned to the deck.

“Do either of you have any sailing experience?”

I let out a laugh, much too loud.

“Mr. Cassa,” I said, “you’re looking at a real pirate here. I may be injured, but I’ve still...”

I paused to catch my breath.

“- got the spirit of the sea in me.”

I crouched over and placed my head in my hands.

After a breath, I asked to no one in particular, “Do you think any of the pirates saw us?”

“Most definitely,” answered Cassa. He was supported by Mr. Underbrook, sullenly nodding, his eyes gazing into nowhere.

I looked out the open doors and listened for the sound of footsteps approaching to recapture their prey.

‘So, why aren’t they chasing us?’ I thought to myself, afraid to speak the question out loud.

Cassa was busy messing around with the large machine I had noticed before. He glanced nervously back and forth at the doors as he tinkered.

“Chip!” shouted Mr. Underbrook. “Come and help me with the anchor!”

I jumped to attention, not needing to be told twice, and raced over to the windlass.

“My boy, how do you operate this contraption?”

I looked at the windlass and felt myself confused. It was nothing like what we’d had back on Captain Clinks’ ship. That one had a wheel with handles at the top that we’d all turn together to raise the anchor. This one, on the other hand, had no such thing. It was a large device, mechanical in nature, which came up to my chest. There were four gears coming out of a circular base and a series of dials and switches on the top. I’d been working on a ship since before I could remember, but this was the first time I’d seen anything like this.

“Let me handle that,” came Cassa’s voice from behind us.

I whirled around and saw him approaching. He gently got to one knee and started to tweak some dials before hitting the largest of the switches on top. The machine came to life as the gears started to turn, and I could hear the familiar sound of the anchor being lifted. Only, this time, there were no people doing the pushing.

“How did you do that?” I asked, my eyes as big as dinner plates.

“The engine does all the work,” he said, pointing behind him.

I looked in the direction of his finger and saw the large machine that had been looming in the background. It, too, now had life in it and was letting off a dull yet sharp hum.

“That’s amazing,” said Mr. Underbrook, himself clearly in awe of what he was seeing.

“Yes,” agreed Cassa, “this is the newest technology out of Akadeli. We secured this ship from some inventor types a while ago. This thing moves like no other.”

“What powers these intriguing machines?”

“Steam, mostly,” answered Cassa. “Also, a fair amount of magic,” he added with the first smile I’d ever seen out of the bugger.

We didn’t have long to take in this marvel as whatever sense of serenity we had was soon broken by the familiar boom of cannon fire.