Emma sat at the center table in the mess of the Vicious Fall with a blanket around her shoulders. Her hands outstretched to a small brassier set on the table. The device's design provided an intricate pattern in shadow similar to those you would find in the Arabic area, and the fire inside it danced orange and blue between her wiggling, shaking fingers.

Outside the rain and wind of the storm continued to rage, and the ship pitched and rolled. The potts and other cooking equipment rattled and struggled against their lashings.

"Mr. Wolf," Emma called across the table through her teeth, chattering.

"Aye, Capt'n," he replied.

"I propose we maintain a ledger with a simple title," Emma said, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

"What's that, then?" Mr. Wolf asked cocking an eyebrow.

"Don't Do These Things, we will fill the pages with a record. Of our little misstep adventures, with the first few pages, left free to record the most enduring of lessons learned over time. The ones that we never seem to learn," she replied. Mr. Wolf looked back at her, tilted his head, and grunted.

At that moment, Amelia drifted to the table with a tray of hot drinks.

"Now, then, if each of you would drink this nice tea, you will be right as rain," said Amelia, handing them a giant teacup.

"Please forgive the lack of saucers. It would seem the kitchen is designed with the design ethic of a possum, possibly one that had been exposed to a large amount of cocaine," Amelia continued, looking at Mr. Wolf, who just smiled back.

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"Well, Emma and Mr. Wolf, we are so happy you could return to us," Amelia said as she sipped her tea. Her eyes darted to Mr. Wolf. He was never to be trusted entirely.

"Although successful, that was quite mad of you both to swing from the ship," whispering swing as if it had been a great secret.

"Can you tell us all about your adventure?" Amelia then pleaded, and she looked at Hutchens with a slight blush of red on her cheeks.

Emma hung her head low within the blanket and snorted, "We met with the king of the madmen. He tried to give us tea. And didn't even with a small amount of his usual enthusiasm really try to kill us," Emma said with a perplexed tone.

The ship suddenly rocked as a bolt of electricity struck the Fall, dancing down the grounding wires throughout the airship. The storm outside continued, and Emma had ordered the Fall to plunge into the dark murk and now keep pace, safe and hidden from others that would still be hunting them.

Before she could continue, Mr. Wolf interrupted with, "Yeah, that's what makes me damned scared. He just wanted to give us that nothing bit of paper. Oh, and her gun back. That one she tried to kill him with."

"Right, you are. So, let's see what is in this," Emma interjected as she took the letter hidden in her bodice and unfolded it. The red wax seal hung onto the back as she read it. Taking a deep breath, Emma looked first at Reggie, then back to Amelia, and then folded the letter.

"We have a destination. If we are still keen to go," Emma said.

"Of course, we are keen. Kincade is my fiancé. It is my duty to return Kincade to polite society," Amelia responded.

"Yes, yes, quite true. We owe it to the man. And we have done so much already. To not to rescue him would be a great crime of friendship," Reggie added.

"Then this is it when we catch up with him. But be forewarned, anyone who spends enough time under the thumb may be changed." Emma said.

"I don't care; he is a wonderful man, and I will nurse him to health," Amelia said, slapping her fist into her palm. Emma looked into her face, searching for Amelia's resolve.

"Right you are, then; we set course for Samoa," Emma concluded.