The Dusk Guard Saga: Beyond the Borderlands

by Viking ZX

Chapter 13 - Bombing the Behemoth

This is insane. Alchemy lifted his head once more, looking at the rest of what he was starting to think of as “the team” sitting around him in the longboat. Absolutely insane! How did I get into this?

He knew the answer to that. Pirates, old griffon, new griffon, and the inability to stay in Ruffian’s Wharf without serious trouble. Still, at the time it hadn’t seen like that bad an idea. Then there had been that attack on the shipyard. Which was kind of … fun, in a way? Blade had certainly seemed to enjoy it, along with the rest of the group.

Still, this is a far cry from liberating a shipyard. This is an attack. You could die doing this. Not that the feeling was new. He’d thought that he was going to die when he’d made the decision to drink every potion he’d been told never to mix all at once, all on the chance that it would let him save his teacher and friends. But that had been … I don’t know, different? Was it? One had been to defend his friends and teacher, but this …

It’s to stop the cult,  he thought as the longboat shifted again, the long screech of the vessel’s four ice anchors sliding atop the ice momentarily drowning out the droning grind that was so loud this close to the surface of the ocean itself. One of their “rowers” let out a faint curse and shifted his weight, the longboat rocking as ice bumped against its underside.

It’s still an insane plan, though, he thought as he looked up at the rest of the group. Blade was sitting near the front of the longboat, her wings folded at her sides but her head up, her rust-red plumage still visible in the dimming light, though even with his enhanced eyes it was difficult to see the color. Once the sun was fully down, even he’d have trouble identifying it.

Behind her came the forward of the two “rowers,” though he wasn’t exactly sure what they would technically be called. Both of the ponies were carefully working the special ice-anchors that had been installed in the flat bottom of the boat, lifting and lowering the anchors in time to keep the skiff crawling across the ice like a giant, dangerous beetle.

Behind them, near the middle of the skiff, Barnabas and Hain were both sitting around the long, yellow, rectangular bomb that the group was supposed to deliver. In person, he thought as he watched Barnabas reach out and tap the side of the case. And then we’ve got to secure it, and arm it.

All in all, he had to admit that as insane as the plan was, it made a degree of sense. There was nothing that the combined fleets of the Cragtooths and the griffons could throw at the Behemoth to kill it without taking such significant losses there’d be a strong chance they couldn’t push and take the Pinnacle. And taking the Pinnacle was the goal. So they needed to disable the Behemoth or destroy the vessel indirectly.

Which lead to the current plan. Stick one boarding party and the bomb inside a skiff that had been weighed down enough to keep it just inches above the ice, camouflage it with a bunch of old sailcloth that had been dyed to look like the surface of the ice itself, spend a few hours creeping across the ice to within striking distance, and then wait for the sun to go down. With any luck, their distraction would strike just as the sun went down, a quick hit and run to pull off a few of the dreadnought’s escorts, and without the extra eyes they’d be able to slip right up underneath the Behemoth and find a way in.

Simple, he thought as Blade lifted both wings, signaling for the forward drivers to stop. A deep groan rolled through the skiff, so deep he could feel it in his chest, and a loud crack split the air. Right.

Ice. Always shifting. Endlessly rotating and roiling in slow motion, driven upwards from who knew how far down, pushed about by the fluctuations of the ethereal system. Razor sharp, heavy, deadly ... and profitable, if you knew what you were doing.

Blade dropped her wings and the skiff began moving forward again, crawling on its metal legs as the two ponies behind her alternated their movements. Further back, separating Alchemy from the middle of the skiff where Hain, Barnabas, and the bomb sat, two more ponies were working the longboat’s back legs, though mostly that just amounted to lifting the metal implements ever so slightly so that the skiff would keep moving across the ice.

Past them it was just the back of the skiff, home to the last two passengers. Himself, and Frost.

She certainly didn’t seem to have any issues with their current mission, not that it would have been easy to tell. She’d boarded the skiff with the same cool expression she always wore, the only sign of interest from her drawn out when Blade would signal a direction with her wings, or when Barnabas would occasionally start humming under his breath. The rest of the last few hours they’d spent in the longboat, she’d simply sat there, her bow clutched in her hooves, her eyes straight ahead.

She’s not very talkative, but then again, you haven’t said much either. Blade shifted again, one wing coming up, and the skiff rocked slightly as an almost deafening crack echoed through the enclosed space. A second later the underside of the longboat kicked and for a moment, everyone onboard was completely alert, their eyes wide as they waited to see if the ice had done any damage. The skiff rocked slightly, but then began to lower, sliding off of the chunk of ice that had bumped into their center.

That’s the eighth time we’ve been hit, Alchemy thought as one by one everyone aboard let out sighs of relief. This is why you don’t get too close to the ice. Then again, being close to the ice was how this plan was working. Anyone could spot a skiff that was floating six or seven feet above the surface. But less than a foot? And camouflaged to look like the ice around it? A lot less likely.

Especially when the sun went down. The moon was usually bright, but during that twilight period when everypony’s eyes were adjusting, they’d make their move.

Which won’t be too long now, he thought as he looked up at the rapidly darkening sailcloth. Sunset is almost here. Which meant he’d need to take another dose of potion in a few hours, not that he was going to wait that long. There was an extra dose in the combat harness on his chest; he’d swallow it just before they boarded. A little energy to spare.

Still, it was a little unsettling to think that he’d shifted so far so quickly. Three weeks ago he’d been an alchemist. Now he was what? An alchemist turned super-soldier? A mercenary? A pirate?

If I am, does that make me any worse? he wondered as the skiff shifted again, ice cracking nearby. Or does it make me better? He’d seen the stub of horn on that young unicorn’s head in Cragtooth. He’d known that parents kept a close eye on their children, or sometimes just didn’t have kids, and that was bad enough. But cutting off a filly’s horn?

All because of some cult, he thought, pressing his front hooves hard against one another and feeling a faint heat that signified he was burning potion as he pushed them together. And the Bloodhooves. Thinking about it made him angry.

But does returning their violence with my own make me any better? Or does it make me less? he wondered as Blade flipped her wings forward, signaling the drivers to pick up the pace. Once I knew I was an alchemist, I wanted to use my potions to help. Now I’m using my “curse” to fight back against pirates and cultists. Then again, those pirates and cultists don’t have any stipulations about whether or not it’s right.

“Bothered?”

The voice was so soft that even with his enhanced sense it took him a moment to realize where it had come from. He turned slightly to side to see Frost staring at him, her wide, violet eyes boring into him.

“Thinking,” he said. There wasn’t any need to expound further. It wasn’t like she was going to—

“About what?” she asked, her voice still soft, but cold. Maybe it could never be warm.

“What we’re doing,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Three weeks ago I was just a town doctor.”

“A town doctor who can take on a dozen ponies,” Frost said, her voice quiet and cool. “If you wanted to stay a doctor, you could have.”

“Yeah, but …” She did have a point. “The pay for this is really good too.”

“So then what’s bothering you?”

“I … The death, I guess.”

“You don’t like it?” she said, running one hoof down her bow.

“No,” he said, shaking his head just a tad. “I don’t. At least, I don’t think I do.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means …” He closed his eyes for a minute. What had he meant by that? “It means that on some level, I do enjoy it. Not the killing, I mean. But the … the feel of what we’re doing. I mean, we did something good in Cedar Shipyards, but we had to hurt a lot of ponies to do it.”

“So?”

“So? he replied, tossing her question back at her. “This isn’t something I’m used to. Hurting ponies, for good? That’s a job for … I don’t know … The Royal Guard.”

“We’re not in Equestria. There are no Guard here.”

“You know what I mean, though,” he said. Up in the front of the boat, Blade lifted her wings. A distant boom echoed across the ice, followed by the crack of a cannonball crashing down on the frozen surface. For a moment everyone in the skiff was silent, until Blade looked back and gave them the thumbs up. The Cragtooth distraction force, then. Not their cover being blown. Good.

“Do I?” Frost asked as the longboat began moving forward again.

“There’s local officials,” he said, shrugging. “Ruffian’s Wharf did have a sheriff of sorts—”

“Did he or she stop the Bloodhooves from taking over?” Frost asked.

“Well, no,” he admitted. “But—”

“Did they tell the cult not to carry out the purge?” she asked, turning to look at him, her eyes narrowing in the swiftly darkening interior of the skiff.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I wasn’t here for that, but I don’t think they could have.”

“So can they now?”

“Well … No, they can’t.”

“But what if we can?”

“Is it our place though?” he asked, looking at her. “I mean, just because we can?”

“Do you think the cult asks itself such questions?” she asked. “Do you think that because they can, that makes what they do right?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “They’re doing terrible things.”

“And if we can stop them, why wouldn’t we? If the cult was gone, wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“Well … yeah.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“I guess … I guess I just don’t like doing terrible things to stop others from doing terrible things,” he said.

“Ah,” she said. “I think I understand. You’re thinking about them like they’re you. Like they’re the ponies that you’re trying to make life better for.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Don’t.” The sharpness of her tone made him flinch. “Maybe they were once, but right now? The Bloodhooves are uncaring scumbags who’d just as soon kill you as beat you. The Order is worse. They’ll do worse than just kill you. Trust me.”

“But how do I feel better about possibly killing them?” he said. “I mean, as far as I know I don’t think I actually have … not intentionally.”

“There’s a saying I heard once,” Frost said, her voice almost silent. “All it takes for evil to triumph is for good to do nothing. I don’t know if that justifies what I do. Maybe not. But that doesn’t make it any less true.” She turned towards him, looking him in the eye. “Someone has to be the one to say enough is enough, to stand up and let these freaks know that they don’t have a right to rob us, beat us, and kill us as they please.”

“And that’s supposed to be, well, us? Here? Does that give us the right to kill?” he said, looking at the rest of the boat.

“Maybe,” Frost said. “At least we’re trying. But let me put it this way, Alchemy.” Her horn gave a soft glow, a smooth, icy shaft appearing in her hooves. “I’ve killed a lot of cult members over the years. And I’ll kill a lot more before this is over. Do I enjoy it? Not the killing, no. But do I enjoy knowing that somewhere, someplace, someone else will never have to go through what I did because I’ve made the world a little bit safer for them. Because what the cult is doing is wrong. What the Bloodhooves do is wrong, too.”

She shook her head, her mane falling across her shoulders like a curtain of ice. “And someday, maybe even before I die, but definitely after, I’ll have to account for that. I’ll have to make my case for why I made the choices I did. But I’m certainly not going to sit there and say I did nothing while others did wrong.”

“And what if—if you go too far?” Alchemy asked. He’d caught himself. He’d almost asked what would happen if he himself went too far.

“What, you mean become what I hunt? Turn into a murdering monster who kills for their own gain and pleasure?” She shrugged, her arrow sliding into place on her bow. “I hope I don’t. I’d like to think I won’t. But if I do … Then I hope someone else has the guts to do to me what I do to the cult.”

There was a cold certainty to her words, like she’d already considered the possibility herself. “That’s a … um …”

“You can say it’s cold,” Frost said without a touch of humor. “I’m used to it.” Up in the front of the skiff, Blade began signaling the drivers, and Alchemy felt the longboat tug slightly beneath him as he picked up speed. They were getting closer.

“Well, no offense, but I hope I don’t get that cold,” he said as Blade turned and motioned towards Barnabas, snapping her talons against one another. The minotaur reached down underneath the seat he was sitting on and pulled out a large crossbow, the kind with enough kick to it that one was usually supposed to brace it against a gunwale.

“Don’t,” Frost said as her brother passed the crossbow forward. Alchemy blinked in surprise at her words. “If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that you can make hard choices and do hard things without being like me. Like my brother. The way he is with kids, the way he is with his friends, but he’s  still capable of doing the right thing, even if that means using that axe of his.” The axe in question was coming out now, Barnabas pulling it from beneath the seat and hefting it in his hands.

“Maybe if you’re still worried about it, ask him,” she said, her hooves tapping against her bow. Up in the bow, Blade was slowly pulling the edge of their cover back, lifting the crossbow and bracing her hind legs against the boat. “Because he’s probably warmer. But don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t always kill. Neither should you. Death is a serious, serious thing. Taking someone’s life?”

“One of the hardest decisions ever,” he said, nodding. “I know. I’m a doctor.”

“Well, you don’t always have to make it,” she said, lifting her bow. “And in combat, you’re probably better off not thinking about it. After all, that’s kind of the point of combat sometimes, to defeat the other side.” There was a snap followed by a hiss as the crossbow discharged and launched its bolt across the ice, a thin but tough rope zipping along behind it. The moment the rope began to slow, Blade grabbed at it, wrapping the meaty part of her talons around it and tugging fast, eating up the slack the line’s momentum had given it. It went tight.

“So,” he said, taking a breath. “Don’t think about it. Judge each life carefully. Don’t become the monster. But recognize that during the course of standing up for something right, you have to act, and sometimes that act means violence.”

She lifted one eyebrow. “You got all that from what I was saying?”

“Why, was I wrong?” he asked.

“No,” she said as Blade began to pull quickly at the rope, Barnabas grabbing the end and assisting. The skiff began to pick up speed, slipping across the ice with rising momentum. “You’re right. I’m just used to most sapients reactions at the end of my explanations being along the lines of silence.”

“Not disagreement?”

“They’re usually too scared to disagree,” Frost said, and for a moment in the dim light he thought he saw the corner of her lip turn upwards just slightly.

Maybe the ice-queen has a heart after all, he thought. Up on the bow Blade had stopped pulling the rope, and a shadow slipped over the bow of the skiff, the whole vessel sliding into darkness as they moved into the gap between the Behemoth’s hull and the ice.

“That’s it!” Blade said, wrapping the line around a cleat in the bow. There was a sudden jerk as the longboat’s momentum caught up with it, snapping the front end to port and throwing the back end out. Alchemy threw his hooves out, catching himself against the side and grabbing Frost’s foreleg to keep her from slamming into the side. One of the rowers didn’t fare as well, though he had the sense to muffle his yell as he collided with the far wall.

“More warning next time, kit,” Hain said as he picked himself up.

“Sorry,” Blade said. “We were going faster than I thought. Still, we’re here. Everyone get ready.”

Alchemy let go of Frost’s foreleg and plucked the single vial of his potion from his harness. Here we go. It tasted spicy this time for some reason. Spicy and warm.

A shiver ran across his whole body as the potion struck his stomach, a rolling wave of fire that felt like it was burning a hole through his insides and spreading its heat through his limbs. He rolled his shoulders back once, feeling the scorching heat of the magic inside of him as his entire body went into overdrive.

“I’ve spotted the hatch,” Blade said, bending over and picking up the crossbow once more. “Making the second shot.” There was a sharp twang as she fired again, another buzzing hum filling the longboat as the trailing line rubbed against the side. Moments later the skiff switched angles once more as Blade tugged on the line. She was pulling one line, then handing it off to one of the earth pony rowers and pulling at the other one, working the boat along the underside of the massive dreadnought.

Come on … he thought as the skiff moved forward. He began pressing his forehooves against one another, using up some of the heat that was burning inside his chest before it did anything really damaging. He’d taken the dose earlier than normal, and if he didn’t burn the excess potion off, it was going to burn itself off, and not in any way that felt good. A fiery, internal pain would sweep through him as his organs overdosed, shut down, and healed repeatedly over seconds. It would hurt for a while, but with the volume he’d taken, the pain would be manageable. Barely. He’d tried a larger overdose only once before. It’d almost killed him.

Come on. The world seemed … slower when he was like this. As if everything was just a quarter-second or so behind. He could see every twitch of Frost’s ears, see the exhalation of her every breath as she lifted a heavy canteen full of water and took a long sip. Her bow was resting around her shoulders now, and he realized with a bit of surprise that it was a different one than the one she’d been using at the shipyard.

She brought a shortbow, he thought as he looked at the rest of the group. Barnabas was tapping his fingers against the head of his greataxe, the weapon balanced across his knees, while Hain was sitting almost ramrod straight, his wings folded tightly against his sides. Both of the pair were wearing armor, though it was lightweight stuff, held in place with straps and buckles rather than under its own weight. The kind of stuff that was designed for quick, fast combat, protecting only the most vital and vulnerable areas.

They’d offered some to him as well, but he’d declined. He’d never actually fought with armor on before; even the combat harness he was wearing felt odd and out of place, though its usefulness in carrying potions inside its hardened pockets couldn’t be ignored. Despite the usefulness of the utility, the tough material wouldn’t do much to block a blade.

That’s why I won’t get hit, he thought. Or if I do, I let the potion take care of it.

“All right, crew,” Blade said from the front of the skiff as she tied down the last rope and picked up the crossbow. “We’re here. Secure the rear.”

It took less than a minute to pull away their sail-cloth roof and put two more crossbow bolts into the bottom of the ship hull above them, tying each of them to the rear of the skiff. Blade had brought them beneath the starboard side access hatch, a small, hardened wooden entryway into the ship above. Its ultimate purpose was to serve as a visual means for checking the underside of the ship if the vessel had any collisions with the ice—more than once Alchemy could recall doing similar checks on the ice dredges he’d worked on after a particularly energetic bit of ice had slammed into the bottoms of the ships. Most ship hulls were constructed from the hardest, heaviest, compressed wood that could be found on the Ocean, but it often wasn’t a match for the ice. And if such a hit damaged the ship’s lift-plates, the crew wanted to know immediately.

“Everyone ready?” Blade asked as the dim horizon began to light with distant flashes. Faint, rolling booms echoed across the ice as their distraction engaged the dreadnought’s escorts.

“Ready,” Alchemy said, chiming his voice in with the rest as he stood, the skiff rocking beneath him.

“Good,” Blade said, grinning as she flexed her long talons. “Barnabas? Open the door. Once it’s open Alchemy will be first in and clear the immediate area, Hain and I moving to assist. You’ll pass the bomb up, and you and Frost will be the last two up. We’ll make our way to the stern, get as close to the center as possible, and bolt down the bomb, and arm it. Once the bomb is ready, we’ll make our way back here and ride the skiff out. Clear?” Her feathers shifted in the low wind as she looked at each of them. “All right then, team. Let’s move. Barnabas? Knock for us.”

“Right.” The minotaur extended one arm and wrapped it around the hatch’s emergency access handle, giving the red-painted wood a sharp tug. Nothing happened. He pulled again, harder, the veins on his arms bulging through his short coat.

“It’s locked,” he said, lowering his arm. “That’s okay though, I’ve got a key.” He took a step back, spreading his legs and taking a quick look around to make sure no one was within reach, and then swung his axe up in a sharp, steep arc.

There was a faint crunch as the blade bit into the hardened wood, and Barnabas swung again. This time he had to tug the axe back, chips of wood sprinkling down around him as he tore the weapon free. There was a third, final crack of wood parting, and then Barnabas extended his arm up once more and pushed the hatch inward.

“It’s open,” he said, giving the wood a quick shove with his fingers and grinning as it didn’t fall back down. “It’s dark, but I can just make out the ladder and the inner hatch.”

Alchemy didn’t need light to see what Baranbas was talking about. The world was almost glowing to his eyes, his limbs burning like he’d dipped them in molten metal. I need to burn some of this off now, or it’s going to really start to hurt.

“Alchemy,” Barnabas began, holding out one of his hands. “Step in and I’ll lift—”

Alchemy didn’t give him a chance to finish speaking. He jumped forward, kicking both his rear feet off of the extended hand and then off of the minotaur’s shoulders, launching himself into the access port like a skybound missile. Rungs blurred as they shot past, the force of his jump enough that he didn’t need to use them. The inner hatch was in front of him almost instantly, and he tucked his head to his shoulder, bracing his forelimbs in front of himself.

The latch parted with a deafening crack as he crashed through it, breaking apart and scattering away from him even as a lance of pain shot through his forelegs. His upward momentum persisted just long enough for him to take a quick look around and realize that it was too dark even for him to make out much, and then he was falling back down, down towards the broken square of light below him.

He spread his legs and hit the deck on all four hooves, the impact ringing through whatever room he was in. One of his legs felt weak, like it wanted to collapse at the hoof. A sprain, he thought as he glanced at it. The pain faded, a rush of power moving down the leg and brushing away the wound. He felt less jittery now that he was using up the surplus. His other leg still hurt though, and as he looked back over the opening he could see the faint shape of a splintered bit of wood sticking out of his fetlock.

“Alchemy?” Blade called as he tugged the bit of wood free with his teeth, pain shooting up his leg. He spit the chunk of wood aside, his fetlock burning as his body went to work, and by the time he’d turned back to the opening he could already feel the wound sealing itself shut.

“I’m fine,” he called. “Room’s dark though, and …” He paused for a moment, his ears twisting and turning as they tried to pick out noises over the groan of the ice, still persistent even inside. Still, there were no raised voices or shouts. “We’re clear,” he called down. “Get up here and bring a light.”

“Got it. Once we get Barnabas out of the way. Come on,” she said. “Back on your hooves.” Seconds later Blade blocked off the light, and he stepped back as she crawled up past the ballasts and into whatever room he was in. There was a bright spark that lit the room for a second, and then a warm glow began emanating from a lantern that she was clutching in her beak.

“Well, looks like we’re in luck,” Alchemy said as he took a quick look around the room they were standing in. It was a small, dry, cold and empty storage area from the look of it, with a thick layer of dust and grime along the floor. A single door was set against the wall. From the look of the cobwebs stretching across one corner, it hadn’t been used in some time.

“Yeah,” Blade said, setting the lantern on the floor as Hain made his way through the opening after her. “Help Barnabas with the bomb. I’ll check the door.”

“Right.” He moved over to the opening, brushing aside the broken bits of wood he’d scattered when he’d broken through the upper hatch. Barnabas was just visible standing on the deck of the skiff down below, one end of the bomb resting against his chest as he looked upward.

“You ready?” he called as he saw Alchemy’s face. Alchemy nodded, reaching down with one hoof. There was a loud grunt from below as Barnabas slowly began lifting the bomb up towards the opening. “Here it comes.”

“Got it,” Alchemy called, wrapping his wrist around a handle on the end of the bomb. “Keep it coming.” He began to pull, his muscles burning slightly as he called more and more effort forth from them. There was a sudden increase in the weight on his hoof as Barnabas shifted his position, and he gritted his teeth, forcing his body to pull even harder. With a faint squeak, the end of the bomb slipped past the hatchway, and he was able to get both hooves wrapped around the handle, tugging it further upward until it began to tilt.

Something pushed at it from below and he was jerked off balance, the bomb tipping to one side and falling towards the floor. He shifted his weight, catching it at the last moment and letting it hit the deck with a faint, hollow thunk.

“That was close,” he said as Frost stuck her head through the opening, her bow still wrapped around her shoulders. The door to the room squeaked slightly as Blade pushed it open, dim light spilling in from whatever hallway lay beyond.

“No one’s around,” she said, giving them a quick thumbs up. “Have Barnabas grab the bomb. Alchemy, lead the way.”

“Right.” He nodded and stepped into the narrow hall, looking in both directions before deciding on a path and heading toward the port side of the vessel. The hallway was dimly lit, the dust and grime underhoof barely visible in the light cast from a single, bare magilight. Move till we find a hallway back. Look for the stern.

The rest of the team formed up in single file behind him, Barnabas in the middle with his arms wrapped around the large bomb. Despite the bulky weapon’s size, he was still making good pace. But not good enough, Alchemy thought. My legs are still burning a little and—

The train of thought ended as he heard voices, and he whipped his hoof back, signaling to the rest of the group to stop. Someone was coming. Closer, from the sound of the hoofsteps.

“—telling you,” a voice said, becoming clear as it drew nearer. “I heard something.”

“There’s nothing down here to hear!” another voice shot back. Two then, both ponies from the rapid, discordant sound of hoofbeats. “It’s just ballast and stuff, and no one else heard anything.”

“Here to hear?” the first voice came back as a flickering light began to grow down one way of the intersection. “How would you hear anyway? You’re half deaf. And I’m telling you, I heard something.”

Alchemy glanced back at Blade as the second voice spoke again. “Well, you had to mouth off about it,” it said, as Blade formed a fist with one pair of talons and tapped it against her palm. The message there was clear. “Now we’ve got to go stick our heads under the boat and take a quick look around, and it’s all your fault.”

Alchemy nodded as the voice drew closer. Right, I can do this. There’s only two of them. He glanced up at the intersection, which was growing brighter by the second. Kick off there, there, and catch them both off-guard … He waited, his eyes fixed on the intersection until he saw the hint of a shadow. Now!

He leapt forward, his hooves meeting the side of the hall just before the intersection and kicking him off at an angle towards the back wall. He twisted in the air, his hooves blurring as he kicked off once again, this time angling himself up the intersecting hallway … and directly into the two earth ponies that were standing with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. The first didn’t even have time to speak: Alchemy’s hoof collided with the side of his head, snapping it back against the wall with a loud thud and pinning his limp body against the wall. At the same time, Alchemy swept his rear hoof out, catching the second pony in the gut hard enough that he lifted into the air.

Alchemy pivoted, shifting his weight and pulling his forehoof away from the unconscious pirate he’d pinned. The world seemed to be moving through a thick fluid, slower now as the potion pounded through his veins. It felt beautiful.

And so did the faint sense of resistance his arching, overhead hoof felt as it reached the end of its sweep, catching the still-airborn pirate right in the center of his head and driving him down into the deck head first. Twin thudding sounds echoed down the hallway as both bodies hit the deck within moments of one another.

Something was wrong. Where’s the light coming from? Alchemy turned, already moving even as he saw the pegasus mare staring wide-eyed at him from further down the hall, a portable magilight gripped in her teeth. Her jaw dropped, the light falling from her mouth as she began to scream.

“Intrud—” Her eyes widened even further as his hoof slammed into the center of her head, the last bit of her scream coming out as a wheeze as she slumped to the ground, out cold. He held his position for a brief moment, waiting. He didn’t have to wait long.

“What was that?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Dervish, you okay down there?”

“Cassius, go check it out.”

Tartarus. The voices echoing down the hall told him everything he needed to know. He turned, caught sight of Blade standing at the intersection, and opened his mouth. “We’ve been outed. Move!”

The team reacted instantly, even as yells of surprise at his own shout began to echo down the hall. “Toward the back of the ship!” he called, pointing. “Go!”

“I’ll take care of the first pursuers,” he said, turning back towards the hallway the three ponies had come down and bolting down it, his body swelling with power. The voices were closer, coming from around a corner up ahead, and he stuck out a hoof, catching the wall and whipping his body around the corner.

A pony paused, halfway down a set of steep stairs with his jaw open in shock. Alchemy didn’t give him time to recover. A quick push sent his body flying up the stairwell, his forehoof colliding with the side of the pirate’s head as he flew past. He kicked off of the pony’s back for good measure, sending him bouncing down the stairs even as he shot the rest of the way up the stairwell, emerging into a brightly lit room full of an assortment of ponies, diamond dogs, and other pirates in various states of activity. Four were sitting around a poker table. For a moment no one moved, seemingly stunned by his sudden appearance. A poker chip dropped from one dog’s hand, spinning on the tabletop and winding down with a slow thrum. Then, with a roar, the entire room leapt into action.

The first pirate dove at him barehoofed, and he ducked under the blow, bringing one of his forehooves up in a sharp, powerful uppercut that not only stopped the pony in her tracks, but lifted her up into the air and sent her flying back without the use of her now limp wings. He didn’t have time to watch her land. He was too busy dealing with another strike coming at him from the other side.

He darted to one side, a closed fist narrowly missing his head, and slid right into his training. Among the reeds, he thought as he bent his body back, balancing on his rear hooves and sliding beneath twin attacks from both an angry looking diamond dog and a howling earth pony. Wanazidi mgomo. He moved forward, both forehooves snapping out in opposite directions and slamming both his attackers in the chest.

There! His mind barely had time to register the sudden sense of motion at his back as power flared inside his chest. He snapped—there was no better word for it—to a new position, a long, curved blade cutting through the space where his head had just been. The pony who had swung it gaped at his quick movement, only to grimace in pain as a series of quick, heavy hits rolled across his chest and forelimbs. The sword clattered against the floor, useless as Alchemy slammed his attacker in the chest hard enough to send him crashing back against the wall.

This is … He could feel the power surging through him, every heartbeat of his body another burst of energy. This is … A crossbow bolt flew past, missing him by inches as he moved impossibly quickly, his body snapping to one side so quickly he could hear the air pressure shifting. This is … Wood flexed beneath his hooves as he darted forward in a zigzag, so fast that that his attackers were having trouble tracking him. The potion burned in his chest, not a painful burn, but a swelling, rushing thrill.

This is fun. He collided with another pirate, sliding easily under her clumsy attack, a punch so slow it might as well have been in slow motion. Or maybe he was just moving really fast. He spun, delivering a kick to the side of her head that sent her spinning away, taking time in the air to get a quick look at his surroundings. There were only four—no five—pirates left, most of them armed. One with a crossbow, which he was lifting to shoot once again, the other three with various clubs and blades.

Five, he thought as he hit the ground and dove to one side, the crossbow bolt ricocheting off the floor where he’d just been and embedding itself somewhere behind him. I can handle five.

They came at him as a group, the diamond dog who’d dropped the poker chip in the lead with a short sword. She opened her mouth to scream as she brought the blade down. “I had three aces!”

He stepped around the attack and then dodged again as one of the dog’s compatriots threw his knife. A small blossom of pain erupted around his ear, and he felt the cartilage tug slightly as the blade nicked the tip.

He repaid the injury by slamming his shoulder into the pony’s chest, lifting him from the ground and sending him spinning him towards his erstwhile allies. The pirate collided with one of them, both crashing to the ground.

Another crossbow bolt shot past, so close he could feel the rush of displaced air sliding across his flank, and he stepped to the side.

Someone hit him from behind as he moved, slamming into his rear legs and sending him crashing to the floor. The diamond dog’s blade glinted in the light as she brought it down, aiming right for his neck. His rear legs were still pinned, even as he kicked out and knocked the pegasus away. The blade was coming down, right for his neck. There was no way he’d be able to get out of the way in time. There was only one thing he could do.

Alchemy yelled in pain as the blade bit into his foreleg, digging deep into the muscle and lodging against the bone. He could feel muscles and tendons separating, tearing as he tugged hard, pulled the blade free of the diamond dog’s hands and sending her stumbling to one side. Frost’s words about the pirates being more than willing to kill echoed through his mind as he rolled, ignoring the burning, biting pain in his foreleg as he lashed out with the other, bringing his hoof across hard into the dog’s knee. There was a crunch of bone and she fell, shrieking in pain.

He jumped back to his hooves, grabbing at the handle of the sword still lodged in his foreleg and tugging it out. Blood welled across the wound as he tossed the blade aside.

“You’re hurt,” the pony with the crossbow said, grinning as he lifted the weapon once more. His two friends had taken up flanking stances on either side of Alchemy, and he could hear the telltale rumble of oncoming hoofsteps echoing through the room. “Give up, and maybe we won’t kill you too slowly.”

“I’m not that easy to kill,” Alchemy said, lifting his wounded foreleg and wiping away the blood as power surged into it. The bleeding had already stopped, and he could see the wound sealing itself shut. It hurt, maybe even more than the actual wound had, but it was pain he could live with, even if it was fresh enough to make his breath come out in a shudder. “If I were you I’d start running for the lifeboats.”

“Have it your way,” the pirate said, his forehoof moving to squeeze the crossbow’s trigger.

Alchemy was moving before the pony had even finished speaking, throwing himself to the side and twisting around his opponent’s incoming attack to slam his elbow into the back of his head. The pirate went down, hard.

I need to finish this fast. He could feel his supply of potion ebbing, starting to recede. The healing had taken more out of him than he’d hoped. I need to get back to the group and take another dose.

The second of the crossbow pony’s allies went down, and the armed pony had a moment to let out a defiant yell before Alchemy’s hoof clocked him in the jaw.

Good— One of the doors burst open, and for a second the scene was a mirror of the room as it had been moments ago, save that now the positions were reversed. Now he was the one standing in the room with a look of shock while an angry looking minotaur lifted a very dangerous looking revolver.

MOVE! The last bit of potion flooded his body as he shot for the stairwell, moving so fast that his head almost slammed into the ceiling as he shot down the steps. A titanic bang echoed down the stairwell behind him, and something sharp and angry slammed into the wood above him.

I can’t dodge a bullet, he thought as he hit the lower level at a full sprint, flying down the hallway in the direction the team had gone. I don’t even know if I can heal a bullet wound.

He could hear commotion ahead as well as behind now, shouts he recognized as coming from the team. Of course, there has to be more than one way down here, he thought as he caught sight of an open doorway up ahead. All I did was hold off one end of the response for a while … which I guess can’t be too bad.

He ducked around the doorway just in time to see Barnabas slam another minotaur’s weapon out of the way and then headbutt him, knocking the minotaur back. Hain dove in from the side before the pirate could recover, his knife flashing in and out and eliciting howls of pain from the minotaur, who dropped to the ground clutching at his legs.

“Goodnight,” Barnabas said, his fist hitting the pirate square between the eyes. He looked up as his opponent slumped to the ground, grinning as he looked in Alchemy’s direction. “You get lost?”

“Took on a break room,” Alchemy said, returning the grin. “I needed to stretch my legs.”

“Already trying to sleep on the job, huh?” Barnabas replied. Then he cocked his head to one side as the thunder of hoofsteps coming down the hallway after Alchemy began to rise. “Looks like they didn’t like that.”

“Yeah,” Alchemy said as he turned and eyed the rest of the room. It wasn’t much—just more storage space half-filled by crates of food or other gear. The sound of oncoming hoofsteps grew louder, competing with a mechanical sounding rumble emanating from the rear of the room as he stepped to one side and began tugging on one of the crates. “Where are Blade and Frost?”

“Scouting ahead,” Hain said as he hopped up on the crate Alchemy was tugging on. “Checking for a good place for the bomb.”

“Right.” The stack of crates began to tip, slowly at first, but then the whole pile fell crashing down, the deck shaking underhoof as the pile crashed to the floor … right across the doorway.

“That’ll slow ‘em,” Barnabas said, scooping the bomb up in his hands and making his way out the room’s rear exit. “Come on!”

The cause of the mechanical noises became clear as they moved into the next room. Metal walls flanked them, heavily marked by warning messages and maintenance hatches. They were passing into the mechanical underpinnings of the ship now, the collection of areas dedicated to the gearage for side sails, main sails, and even the steering vanes. The deck vibrated underhoof as behind the thin metal walls, gears and rods shook and clicked together, controlling the more vital parts of the ship. It was like walking through a giant clock.

“Here!” came Blade’s voice from up ahead. The maintenance hallway began to widen, opening up into a small, loud, dimly lit hub space that served to offer multiple routes deeper into the ship’s mechanical innards. Blade herself was standing in the center of the room, shoving a body out of the way with one claw. “Right here!” she called again, tapping the center of the room. “It’s perfect!” Behind her, Frost appeared out of one of the dark hallways to other areas of the ship’s workings, her bow at the ready. “Rear is clear!” she shouted at them.

The bomb landed on the deck with a heavy bang as Barnabas dropped it, the metal squeal as he shoved it into place barely audible over the loud sounds of the clockwork around them. Small, reinforced metal slats folding out of the sides at a touch, and the group wasted no time in securing the bomb to the floor, screwing it into place and then snapping off the screw heads with a quick twist.

A loud bang and a shout echoed up the causeway behind them. “Frost,” Hain said. “Guard the hall.” The mare nodded, lifting her bow as she moved into the accessway, her bow floating in front of her with an arrow nocked.

She was back a moment later, a worried look on her face. “They blocked the entrance off,” she said. “Toppled some crates over it.”

Alchemy glanced at Hain and raised one eyebrow. “Just like we did to them,” he said. “Why would they do that? They’re making it hard to get at us.”

“Maybe not,” Hain said, glancing up at the ceiling and then looking at the rest of the passages. “Maybe they’re just planning something different.”

“Well, they’re giving us the time we need,” Barnabas said as he flipped the lid of the bomb casing open, exposing the deceptive-looking inside. A collection of metal shielding assembled around a circular, four-legged object settled over the core of the bomb like a spider. Each of the four legs corresponded with a small, circular opening on the top of the bomb, though the legs themselves were too wide to fit in the holes themselves. There were four thick metal rods with glass tips carefully stowed along the top of the lid, each a dull, flat grey. As Barnabas lifted the spider away and picked the first of the rods up, clipping it into place on the end of the spider’s leg, Alchemy wondered exactly which part of the bomb the glitter had been used in. Was it the bomb’s core? Or was it in the reactive metal rods? Titus hadn’t specified. In fact, she’d deliberately made a point of telling him she wouldn’t tell him when he’d asked.

Plus, she couldn’t tell me if the bomb’s blast was going to have an effect on my potions, he thought as Barnabas slotted another rod into place, the faint click barely audible over the rumble of the ship’s innards. Though I don’t think it would. The rest of the group had fanned out a little, their eyes on the rest of the room. He followed their lead, turning his back to Barnabas and watching the rest of the room—though he kept his eyes away from the slumped form of the maintenance pony lying in the corner. He didn’t want to think about that.

Well, if we’re out of range, I shouldn’t have to find out what effect it has, if any, he thought, fixing his eyes on one of the dark accessways to deeper into the ship. Speaking of which, he thought as he probed at the diminished feeling of power in his chest. I should probably take another dose soo—

The brief absence of light at his side was the only warning he got. He twisted his head as something drove itself into his side, parting through flesh and muscle with wicked ease. He had a brief glimpse of a terrifying, sadistic grin, beneath a pair of ruthless, green eyes … and then the figure was gone, a purple-and-black void taking her place and appearing to suck the light away. He slumped to the side as the figure vanished, pain erupting up across his chest as blood began to leak out of the deep wound. He knew what he’d seen even before Frost began to shout, alerting everyone else to the danger.

“Shadow!” she screamed, turning, her bow coming up even as the same strange purple-and-black not-flash distorted the air behind her. The newly arrived unicorn assassin lashed out with her magically-held blade, barely missing Frost’s flank as she turned. Frost fired, but the mare vanished again, the arrow shooting through the space where she had just been.

The rest of the team was moving now, the bomb forgotten as the assassin appeared again, this time to one side of Hain. Her thin weapon jabbed out, barely missing Hain’s upper foreleg and sliding off of his armor. Then she vanished again, her horn glowing with a strange purple energy as she winked out of place.

His potion reserve was gone, burned out before it could repair the majority of the damage. He could still feel blood leaking out of his side, pooling beneath him, and now the rest of his body was starting to feel the effects of both the blood loss and the lack of potion.

I have to do this right, he thought, reaching into his harness. In the right order. The right … order.

The shadow appeared again, this time alongside Blade, her long, thin weapon arcing out and leaving a long, red slash up the griffon’s side. Blade let out an ear-piercing shriek, rounding on the cloaked assassin, but the mare simply reappeared on her opposite side, her weapon ready to slash again. One of Frost’s arrows cut through the air, nearly catching the mare in the side of her head, and she snarled, her face twisting with rage as she vanished.

“Traitor …” The voice echoed out from the mechanicals around them, bouncing around the room. “You deny your own species, betrayer.”

“My species is pony, moron,” Frost said, mist spilling over her body as she turned, her eyes searching the room’s corners.

“I will kill you all,” the shadow said, her voice still bouncing from place to place. “For the glory of King Sombra and the superior species. Including you, betrayer.”

“I’d be more impressed if I hadn’t heard that a few times before,” Frost said, her voice cutting back into the darkness. “You know how many of your little club I’ve gotten rid of?” She nodded her head towards Barnabas, and the minotaur crouched, lifting the metal spider once more and grabbing another rod. Alchemy slipped a blood-restoration potion out of his harness and tugged the cork away with his teeth, trying to ignore the shaking that was moving into his limbs. The potion tasted bitter as it slid down his throat, made his stomach cramp as it hit it.

“Have you ever faced a shadow before?” the mare’s voice continued. “You have no idea what I’m—”

“Faced and killed,” Frost said, her voice rising over the mare’s. “You’re assassins. The hardest part about killing you ...” she said, turning and facing one of the accessways. “Is just figuring out where you’re hiding.”

“Wrong!” The air above Barnabas rippled, the mare dropping out of the air with her blade aimed right at his head, her tightly-wrapped dark cloak faintly rippling from the teleport. But Frost’s brother was already moving, jerking backwards while slamming the bomb case shut. Frost spun as the shadow let out a shout of surprise, her arrow flying loose and scraping along the assassin’s flank before she teleported again.

“What’s the matter, shadow?” Frost asked as another arrow appeared in her bow. “Scared? Never been hurt before?”

Alchemy pulled another vial free of his harness, moving slowly as the shadow warped back into the room, the air rippling as she appeared and reappeared, striking out at every member of the team. The sounds of the machinery faded as shouts, yells, and the sharp shriek of weapons playing across one another and across armor began to fill the room.

Come on … Alchemy thought as he watched a thin red line speed across Frost’s muzzle, the shadow warping away before the mare could fire back. Just a few more seconds …  He could feel the effect of the blood-restorer now, speeding through his system. The cramping sensation in his stomach faded, and he downed the next vial, letting out a sigh of relief as the spicy mixture hit his stomach and then rushed through his body. The pain in his side began to burn even hotter, and he gritted his teeth together as the pain made him want to cry out.

“Come on Shadow,” Frost said, circling with her bow held high. “You’re not doing anything your dead cohorts haven’t done. You’re arrogant, you’re egotistical …” The air rippled to one side and she turned, only for the mare to appear to her other side, her blade arcing out and and cutting clean through Frost’s bowstring. The mare grinned as Frost turned, the long thin blade coming up on a path to slice clean through her throat. Alchemy tried to push himself up, but the potion hadn’t done its work yet, and he felt himself stumble rather than rising. Hain and Blade seemed equally caught by surprise, both of them twisting towards Frost, but it was obvious that neither of them would get there before the shadow struck.

Then Frost’s arrow shot forward, wrapped in a soft, purple aura, and buried itself in the shadow’s throat. The mare stumbled back, gagging as she dropped her weapon to the ground.

“You’re predictable,” Frost said, stepping forward and summoning another arrow into her hoof. The shadow looked on with wide, disbelieving eyes as Frost buried the arrow in her chest, and then she sank to the ground, her last breath wheezing out in a watery gurgle.

“King … Sombra …” she whispered, and then her face went slack, her head dropping to one side.

“That was planned,” Blade said.

Frost nodded. “They always go for the bowstring. They’re so used to taking on ponies who aren’t magic users, they don’t stop to think that I can pull some of the same tricks they do.” Her horn glowed as she lifted the mare’s weapon. It was a long, thin metal shaft with what looked like a scalpel blade at the end.

“Plus,” Frost said as she tossed the weapon atop the mare’s body. “They’re a little big on style. It’s an ego-supremacy thing.” She turned and looked in Alchemy’s direction. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said, pushing himself up as the pain in his side finally faded. “She got me pretty good, but I had some extra potion.” He could feel it burning inside him once more, the same swelling sense of power that told him he’d be all right for a while. “Anypony else hurt?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Blade said. Hain nodded in agreement.

“Just surface wounds,” Barnabas added, lifting the lid of the bomb once more and grabbing the last glass-tipped rod. “At least now we know why they tried to block us in here.”

“Yeah,” Blade said. “Should make for a real surprise when we bust out of here, shouldn’t it?”

“We should still be careful,” Alchemy said, and several eyes snapped in his direction. “One of them had a revolver.”

“Right,” Blade said, her eyes narrowing. “In that case, that’s the priority target for all of us. Frost, are you any good with barrier spells? That’s the best way to deal with a bullet.”

She shook her head, the thin line of red from the cut across her muzzle standing out against her light, ice-blue coat. “Not very. That’s one thing I’ve never been good at. I can make ice hard enough to block one though.”

“How easily?” Hain asked as Barnabas clicked the last rod into place and then positioned the device over the bomb core.

“Not easily,” Frost replied.

“Well, we have the advantage,” Alchemy said as the last of the pain in his side faded. “They probably think we’re dying in here.”

“Well then,” Blade said, grinning. “As long as they don’t figure out how we got in here, we should be …” Her smile faded. “Ooh, okay, we might want to move fast. Barnabas?”

“Got it.” He shoved the spider down with one palm, the metal rods vanishing into the depths of the bomb core. There was a faint cracking sound as the spider came to rest, the glass tips on each of the rods shattering, followed by a hissing as the components of the bomb began to fuse. The hissing faded after a moment, but they’d all been told what that sound meant. The materials were fusing. The explosion was coming.

They had minutes.

“Move!” Blade shouted, pointing towards the exit. “Same way we came in. Barnabas, smash that barrier down! Alchemy, follow him through and lay out anybody in that room that isn’t one of our own. No one stops, everyone gets out!”

“On it!” Barnabas sheathed his greataxe and began to run down the hall towards the distant crates, his speed building with every step. “Frost! Hit me!”

The unicorn obliged, a bolt of magic firing down the hall and hitting Barnabas in the back. He let out a deafening yell as his body reacted, swelling slightly in response.

Clever, Alchemy thought as he began to run after the charging figure. Minotaurs resist magic, overcharging their own body when they get hit. She’s setting off his natural defenses so he’s got more power.

Ahead of him, Barnabas let out a roar, picking up one final burst of speed and tucking his head close to his body. There was a titanic crash as the full-tilt minotaur slammed into the crates at top speed, and then the air was filled with screams as he continued on, smashing through several shocked looking pirates and carrying them into the far wall. Alchemy boiled out of the opening moments later, his eyes scanning the room and looking for the closest threat.

There! The grey minotaur he’d seen before was standing by one of the other doorways, his hand coming up, the shiny metal of the revolver clutched in it. Alchemy’s attack caught him completely off guard, the gun flying from the pirate’s hand as he struck. The minotaur’s jaw dropped, only to slam shut as Alchemy cracked his hoof into it. He hit the pirate three more times before he landed, then smiled with satisfaction as the dazed-looking minotaur slumped to the ground. Barnabas dashed past him into the hall, and he took a quick glance back to see the final pirate surrendering as Blade, Frost, and Hain all barreled into the room.

Smart, assuming he heads for the lifeboats, Alchemy thought as he sped down the hall after Barnabas. The minotaur’s appearance seemed to have caught the remaining pirates completely by surprise. Screams and shouts of panic mixed with bellows of pure satisfaction as Barnabas let loose, trampling his way down the hallway and rounding the corner leaving piles of stunned, surprised pirates in his wake. Alchemy followed, clobbering the few who looked like they were getting up as they passed.

Barnabas’s roar followed all the way into the storage room they’d accessed, where it ended in the shout of surprise. Alchemy rounded the corner, his eyes widening in shock as he saw who was standing near the hatch they’d used to climb aboard, one hand in the air with one of their skiff’s rowers pointing a crossbow at him.

“Ennuis?”

The red minotaur’s eyes narrowed in anger as they locked with Alchemy’s. “You!” he said, his arm shaking in his cast. “You broke my arm! And my finger! And you broke my ship!”

“Actually, that was me,” Blade said as she stepped around the corner, Frost and Hain right behind her. “I beached your boat.”

“It was a ship!”

“And I broke your finger,” Blade said, motioning for the minotaur to step up next to the wall. “Make a big deal out of it and I’ll break another one.”

“You … you’ll never get away from here alive,” Ennuis said, his face twisting with rage. “You can’t escape! We’ll blow you apart the moment you try to leave.”

“We’ll see,” Blade said, motioning to the rest of the team. “Come on, guys. We need to be gone before that bomb goes off.”

“Bomb?” Ennuis said, his eyes going wide. “What bomb?”

“The bomb,” Blade said as Frost and Hain hopped down into the skiff. “What did you think we were here for? A tour? We armed a bomb. This thing’s going bang in about two minutes.”

“What?” Ennuis’s eyes grew even wider.

“You heard her,” Alchemy said, grinning. Seeing the big minotaur panic after the way he’d sauntered around Ruffian’s Wharf, well … It was a little satisfying. “Better start looking for a life boat.”

“I ... “ Ennuis seemed at a loss for words, his face switching from anger to shock and back again as Blade motioned for the rower and his crossbow to hop down. “Take me with you?” he asked at last.

Alchemy shot a quick glance at Blade and then they both shook their heads. “Sorry. No room for Bloodhooves,” Blade said as she stood over the hatch. “Bye!”

“Hey, you can’t—” Ennuis jumped forward as Alchemy dove down the opening, dropping headfirst and making sure to grab the bottom hatch and slam it shut as he went. The heavy thud followed by muffled cursing as he hit the deck of the longboat told him he’d guessed right.

“Go!” Blade shouted, cutting one of the forward lines. “Cut the rear lines and let’s move!” She began tugging on the last forward line, the one that was attached furthest away, and the bottom of the Behemoth began to slide by, slowly at first, but then faster and faster as everyone began to pitch in, tugging as hard as they could.

“Drop the weights the moment we clear the bottom!” Blade called. The skiff shot out from beneath the dreadnought and into the moonlight, jumping away from the ice and lifting up to its normal operating height as one of the rowers cut the lead weights free of the hull. Shouts of surprise rang out from above as the skiff’s sail snapped up, catching the wind and pulling them away at a quick clip.

“Now comes the risky part,” Blade said as the shouts from Behemoth grew more organized. “Do they fire and blow us off the ice before that bomb goes off, or—?”

A muffled boom swept across the ice as the back end of the dreadnought bulged, doors, windows and sides blowing out in a gout of smoke and flame. Alchemy felt something sweep through him, almost like an electrical shock. The glitter surge.

For a moment he wondered if the bomb hadn’t done its job, if the dreadnought was merely going to be damaged, not destroyed, when, slowly at first, but then with increasing speed, the rear end of the Behemoth began to drop.

Screams rang out across the ice as the rear end of the ship crashed into the surface of the Ocean with a horrific groan, a moan of agony that resonated through every particle of Alchemy’s fur. Then there was a deafening crack, a gaping hole opening across the dreadnought’s hull as the ship split partway up the middle. Another explosion erupted out of the back end, this time scattering planks of wood all across the ice. Lifeboats began to drop from the sides, Bloodhooves streaming across the deck and trying to escape the oncoming doom.

Then the back end lifted as the ice shifted beneath it, tilting and twisting as the Ocean fought back against the intrusion. A wall of ice lifted one corner into the air, twisting the tear amidship even further and sending a few unlucky pirates tumbling from the sides. Then the ice dropped, bringing the rear of the ship crashing down once more, flames pouring out of its ports as the entire superstructure crumpled down under its own weight. Pegasi took to the skies, risking flight and death by exposure rather than stay aboard the doomed vessel.

A series of explosions rocked the far side, fire and flame spewing out into the night as an ammo supply detonated. More explosions followed, mingled with screams and the inexorable groan of the ice as it continued to pound against the back end of the ship. One of the forward lift plates, damaged by the blast, failed, and the remainder of the ship sunk even lower.

“That’s a pretty sight,” Barnabas said as another ammo supply began to explode, shells and powder detonating in a chain of blasts that ripped the ship in two. “We might have just shifted the balance of power on the Ocean forever.”

“As long as that balance is in our benefit,” Blade said, eyeing the distant wreck as it crumbled, torn apart by detonations and the incessant movement of the ice. “Next, we head for the Pinnacle.”

“And tonight?” Alchemy asked, unable to pull his eyes away from the already distant destruction. He had to admit, it did look pretty cool. Really cool, in fact.

“Tonight?” Blade let out a chuckle. “We get picked up, go tell Titus the good news, and then party like the heroes we are.”

“And it’ll be quite the party,” Barnabas said. “Trust me. We just made Captain Titus the happiest minotaur on the Ocean. Well, next to me for making it out with my skin intact.” He let out a long, low laugh. “Thousands can sleep easy with that thing gone.”

Alchemy took one last look at the distant burning wreckage. Heroes, huh? The term felt uneasy, oddly placed considering what they’d just done. But then again, they’d done something good. There was no arguing that there were any remotely good things coming of the dreadnought. Not with who was at the helm.

Still … Heroes. Crazy. Insane. But heroes. Maybe. He smiled as one of the rowers began to let out a cheer, and then joined in, his own voice echoing across the ice. Blade and Barnabas joined in as well, followed by Hain and then Frost, their combined cheers echoing across the ice.

Heroes or not, that was insane. But it was a good thing. And also … He let out a soft laugh as his thoughts came to a head.

It had been fun. Crazy, insane, maybe even a little grim. But they’d made the Ocean a better place, and he couldn’t argue with that. Even if he still felt a little odd thinking about—No, he reminded himself. It’s a battle. That’s how they go.

A distant boom echoed across the ice, and he found himself grinning alongside the rest of the team. No, they’d done what they’d had to, himself included. And they’d lived.

Now they just had to focus on the real battle. The Pinnacle was waiting.

And he was ready.