On the fifth day, Iris was drafted onto a team of riggers for a special assignment. Rather than working with the ropes and sails of the main deck, they were descending the steep stairs into the bowels of the ship, to the fifth deck located immediately below the cargo hold. There were no portholes on this deck, but one of the pirates informed Iris they were just above the waterline now. The only light came from glow stone lanterns held by a few of the pirates, and as they entered the fifth deck the dim yellow glow illuminated folded sails rigged to large, mostly wooden machinery.

"The captain wants a report by end of day, get to work," Nelson the boatswain ordered. He was a tall, thin-framed orc who wore a pair of round glasses.

"Aye," a few of the pirates ordered as they got to work inspecting machinery, ropes and sails.

Iris blipped up beside the boatswain and spoke hesitantly, "uh, sir, what should I be doing?"

"Follow me, you'll be good for getting into the hard to reach spots."

Iris followed after the boatswain as he made his way down the length of the deck, ducking and dodging beams and ropes that obstructed his path. As he walked, his head was on a constant swivel to inspect his surroundings.

"Here," he stopped suddenly and held a lantern up to a small gap between two large wooden beams, "there's a space on the other side that should be big enough for you."

Iris blipped to the other side of the beams, where she found herself balancing on a thinner beam with sails bound to it with an array of familiar knots.

"What exactly is all this?" she asked, "aren't sails usually on the outside of the ship?"

"Questions later," Nelson replied curtly, holding the lantern up to the gap to provide light, "how are the ropes?"

Iris took a moment to inspect the rigging of the sails beneath her feet, "loose, and most of them are frayed. This one is snapped completely."

Nelson hung the lantern from the end of the nearest available beam, and scribbled down notes in a small notebook, "follow," he instructed simply as he moved further along the deck.

The next several hours consisted of much the same work. Nelson would point out a tight space or precarious ledge, and Iris would blip over to inspect the rigging or cogs and belts and report back for him to notate. It was hard for her to get a sense of the actual structure or purpose of all the sails and machinery, as she only ever saw small sections of it at a time in the dim lantern light. From what little she could discern, it seemed the machinery served as a kind of unfolding mechanism for the sails -- but where exactly they would unfold to in the cramped lower deck of the ship, she wasn't sure.

While they worked, she occasionally passed by other riggers at work. Some performed similar duties, while others were dismantling machinery and setting aside damaged ropes or sails. Several beams were smashed, splintered, or outright broken, and more than a few of the sails had long gashes cut through them. Each time she and the boatswain moved between locations, she took the opportunity to pester him with questions which he refused to answer. After a while, she began to suspect that he was quietly enjoying keeping her in the dark about the purpose of their work.

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They broke briefly for a quick lunch shortly after midday before promptly returning to work. Their tasks carried on for several more hours, and by the time dinner was approaching they had finally reached the bow. Massive exposed beams molded the inside of the ship's hull, revealing the extreme amount of support the ship needed to hold together. There were fewer sails at this end of the deck, the machinery instead consisting mostly of pivot points and long, thin beams that seemed intended to swing outwards.

Iris stole glances towards the hull of the ship whenever she could between tasks. She noticed there were seams in some of the support beams, and large metal pegs seated within them that appeared to be pivots. Looking further, she saw more seams in the hull itself, something she would have assumed you would never want in a ship. Answers still eluded her, however, as she was frequently interrupted by yet more instructions from the boatswain.

By the time the work was finally done for the day and the team climbed the stairs to the crew quarters for dinner, the sun was already setting outside the portholes and Iris realized she hadn't even seen the open sky yet that day. She was tired, sweaty, and irritable. An intense longing for the shower in the Flopping Fish tavern overwhelmed her, rivaled only by her longing for the bed she also left behind. She thought briefly about hunting down the boatswain to finally answer her questions, but decided against it when she guessed he would simply blow her off again.

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"The damage is as bad as we feared, captain," Nelson the boatswain reported to the captain in his quarters, "we can attempt repairs, but without the experts at Gellorn Keep, I'm not confident we can restore functionality."

"How long?" The captain asked.

"Sir?" Nelson asked nervously. The Shark Titan was known to have a short temper when asked to clarify himself.

"If you fix it, how long will it take?"

Nelson blinked at the expectation that the crew would somehow be able to fix it despite his previous statement, "weeks, probably. And again, there's no gaurantees--"

The captain swore and slammed a fist down onto the table, "that's not fast enough."

"Captain," the first mate said, "this is a dead end. If the mermaids make a move, it'll be before we reach Gellorn Keep or the crew can repair the mechanism. We need a different plan."

"I know, Meredith!" the captain spun around and shouted in the face of his first mate. She responded with an unbothered stare.

The captain sighed, "you're dismissed, Nelson."

Nelson nodded and quickly exited the cabin.

"What do you suggest?" the captain asked Meredith.

"We beat them once, we'll do it again."

"And if our fears are true?"

"Then it'll be a slightly harder fight," she answered simply, "it's not like you to complain about that."

"My life's work is the belly of this ship, Meredith. If I lose the hydra, the past two years -- the past decade, even -- will have been for nothing."

"We have a few new tricks up our sleeves this time," she assured him, "the mermaids will be a minor obstacle."

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The Gaping Maw was a beacon of light on the dark and expansive surface of the lake, visible for miles in all directions as it ambled across the waters. Just beyond the reaches of its light and just below the surface of the water, three figures floated, their features obscured by the darkness.

"We should strike now," a woman spoke, unobstructed by the water, "before they grow to suspect us."

"No," another said, "our reinforcements must be in position."

"Fuck you reinforcements," the Fish Wizard said, "I'll handle the shark myself."

"Yes, you will," the second woman spoke again, "after our reinforcements arrive."

"It'll be daylight by then," the Fish Wizard complained, "you expect me to wait until night fall again? When they're right here in our clutches?"

"Yes," she replied, turning her head back towards the ship, "they have nowhere to go but deeper into my domain."