Blake soothed his anger at the helm of the Bright Hawk. He might not know its operation half as well as Galena yet, though he was learning quickly. But he needed to do something to keep himself busy. Otherwise he would keep replaying that trip to the ruins in his head, until the frustration boiled back over into anger against his friends.
They were right, obviously they'd been right. Maybe if they'd all been armed and trained to fight, they could've won against odds like those. Maybe if they knew their powers better, they could've avoided attack by the guardians and made it to the Worldgate. But no, they had two others who wanted to travel—they would've needed to go back eventually.
Still, there should've been a way. Blake sailed away from the jungle ruins, and an alien creature who knew the answers to their questions. Ahuizotl and the ruins he guarded might've both been put here by other humans, visitors to Equus long gone. But where had they gone? If Ryan was right and those ruins were approximately Mayan in date and design, that meant centuries unoccupied. The Mayan people on Earth hadn't mysteriously vanished, it was only their civilization that had ended.
Maybe something like that was true here too, and there were descendants living in villages nearby who might soothe Ahuizotl's wrath?
He didn't suggest it, just kept one hoof on the wheel and his eyes to the horizon. He hated being stopped here, in principle as much as in practicality. But this wasn't the last portal they'd ever get to see, and they weren't seconds from being trapped. They had a whole map of other destinations to try, and a ship to sail them there.
He remained at the helm for an entire day. He relieved Galena when morning came, and sailed again the next. From the speed of their progress, it would be over a week before they reached the next possible Worldgate, located somewhere in the desert shrubland that would've been Mexico. That gave them plenty of time to think.
After a day alone, Blake found himself longing for a little company up on the high deck. The winds never bothered him—there was fire inside him, stronger than any cold he'd yet encountered. But without an audiobook to listen to, the horizon and the compass became their own kind of drudgery.
The others always came when he called—mostly to adjust the sails as the winds changed. Once they spent hours together, tacking against the wind as they fought their way north. But then they were through, back to the calm and the heat.
"How's the sailing going?"
Jordan dropped down from the rigging a few feet from him, so silently that Blake nearly jumped. To his credit, he kept his hooves on the wheel this time, and didn't jostle the Bright Hawk in their course. When one of his friends could move as silent as death, he had to adapt to being startled.
"You could just come up the stairs," he said, annoyed. "How do you climb that ladder without claws, anyway?"
He was probably imagining it, but it looked like Jordan's ears were taking a reading of the wind. She took a few steps, then moved up close to him, sheltering from the constant gusts. "I don't climb. I hold on with my hooves and my teeth, then spread my wings to let the ship's movement lift me."
She spread both of them to demonstrate, and immediately lifted off the deck. Jordan squeaked, smacking them both closed and looking sheepish. "I think I could fly now if I wanted. But while we're moving high up, it feels really stupid to try. Did some practice in the empty hold, but you can only fly so far in a room."
Blake finally took his eyes from the horizon. It wasn't like they were going to deviate much if he had a conversation. Besides, he could feel pretty well for the ship's orientation now. If he started to dip down, he'd notice the slope instantly. "You're not worried about what Janet said?"
Jordan stuck her tongue out. "What, that we'll be trapped forever? Hella fuckin' worried, dude. I don't want to be stuck as a horse forever. Do you?"
"No..." And that's why we shouldn't have given up the last Worldgate "But I'm doing what she said. Magic wears away at your humanity until there's none left. Shouldn't you be trying to keep your hooves on the ground?"
Almost by reflex, the bat opened her wings again. This time she moved more slowly, and lifted only a few inches. She wasn't hovering exactly, but drifting backwards towards the railing. So she wasn't quite matched with the speed of the Bright Hawk in terms of flight. "I don't care what she says, flying doesn't count. Flying is wings and I got wings. That's like saying not to use my hands. If I, uh... if I still had those."
She was drifting dangerously close to the edge. Jordan faced him, making subtle adjustments to her wings to stay in the air. But not subtle enough to keep up with her movement.
"Hey, uh... Jordan!" But she wasn't moving fast enough—Blake jumped, wrapping both forelegs around her, tugging her back down to the deck. They crashed down together, tangled on the floor.
"You didn't need to... I knew what I was doing!" she protested. But there was no confidence there. Maybe she didn't even believe it.
"It's very impressive..." Blake said, sitting up beside her. "But do it somewhere you can't drift off into space if you make a mistake, okay? After going through all this hell, I'm not losing someone to a fall now."
She sat up; ears folded flat to the back of her head in embarrassment. Even with the wind whipping around them, there was something strange about her scent. He'd felt it in those few seconds of contact together. "Don't you ever get bored up here, Blake? Lonely?"
"Don't I ever..." He rose, though he didn't leave her, or try to take the wheel yet. The Bright Hawk was well-built enough that she wouldn't start drifting without someone's hands on the helm. The wind might blow them off-course, but the rudder would remain. "Jordan, I'm not the only one who does this. I'm just the one who learned it the fastest. Galena would teach you too if you asked."
She rose, wings splayed awkwardly to her sides. Another one of those physical, animal signs—what did this one mean? Submission? Maybe Jordan had been a horse a little too long. It was getting to all of them. "I'd rather let you do it. Machines aren't as interesting to me as people. Kaelynn would probably enjoy it once she figures out how to walk around in the air without killing herself."
She rested her head against Blake's shoulder, following his gaze to the helm. "I don't care what Galena says about it, but you can teach me if you want. What does this one do?" She reached for the altitude control, with her whole hoof.
Blake caught her. "Hey, easy on that one! That controls our levitation—that one's where it's supposed to be, keeping us just a tiny bit lighter than air." He moved her leg to the wheel. "Start with this. You can tilt this as well as spin it—that controls fins along the sides that angle us slightly up and down, as well as the air-rudder behind us. You can see it if you lean over the back."
Jordan wasn't watching where he pointed, but looking directly up at him. "That's so interesting. Tell me more about it." That thing she was doing with her wings—he could smell it. Intoxicating.
It clouded his thoughts far more than simple anger. "Jordan, what are you doing?"
"You should call me Vesper more," she said. "It would make this less awkward. I'm not Jordan right now, really. That me doesn't get to exist until we make it home. For the rest of our trip, I'm Vesper."
Blake rolled his eyes. Jordan wasn't like Ryan; she didn't have an endless bevy of identities. She was one person, the same as the rest of them. Yet... he couldn't ever imagine Jordan acting this way. So far as he knew, every member of their little team was straight. Was that past tense now, or... Vesper sure didn't look or act much like a guy.
"Vesper," he said anyway. "Are you sure this is the best time? I'm at the helm. If I don't pay attention, I could take us off course. Or into a mountain, or..."
She pushed his mouth closed with a hoof. "I didn't imply anything, that was all you. I'm just trying to keep you company. Ryan and Kaelynn don't need any help staying entertained. But you're up here alone."
Entertained. The word hung on the air between them, joining the strange scent. Not exactly unpleasant—it reminded him of the jungles far below. Not the ruins, where they'd been routed before even getting a glimpse of the Worldgate. This was something wilder, primal.
And dangerous. I need to change course, or this will take me somewhere I might regret.
Blake didn't have the strength to get rid of her—he couldn't back away, or shove her off. But he could search the sky, for any possible excuse. There had to be something...
There was. A dark shape shadowed over the horizon, droning with a distant engine. He probably would've noticed it sooner if it wasn't for Vesper's proximity. An airship, following directly behind them.
"Jordan, look," he pointed, off over the railing. "Look at that, right now. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
The bat glowered at him, ears flattening. But she followed his gesture anyway.
"Hot damn. You think the hippogriffs got more information? Maybe they sent another team through their Worldgate, and made a safe path down the mountain."
Blake squinted. Without binoculars, he could only make out the general shape of the vessel. Huge, like several sailing ships had been caught in a bizarre mating-pile, and fused together. Their masts were black, without sails. Instead, two gigantic motors extended off the sides, with fans as big as trucks rotating in slow, methodical rhythm. Creatures moved about on the docks, but he couldn't see them clearly from this distance.
"Get Galena," he ordered, gesturing. "She's sleeping, I know. Get her on deck right now. I'll remain on the helm."
"You think another ship is more important?" Vesper asked. "I don't think you really believe that."
Blake stomped the deck once with his hooves, glaring at her. "I don't have time for shit right now, Jordan! Get the fuck down there and bring back the bird. Make a whole lot of noise, and grab the others on your way up. Do it right now."
The pony retreated from him, tucking her tail between her legs like a scolded dog. But she went all the same, hurrying down the steps belowdecks. Blake adjusted the helm slightly, pivoting in a random heading. Then he watched.
"This better be important," Galena squawked, settling onto the deck beside him with a flurry of rustled feathers. She had her belt and cutlass, but nothing else—her usual jacket and hairbands were still in her quarters, apparently. "You woke me up, Blake. I thought you knew what you were doing. I see no storm."
Blake let go of the helm, then pointed behind them. "We are being followed."
The bird twisted her head around unnaturally—or at least it looked unnatural to him. Galena didn't seem to mind it. Her eyes settled on the ship, then focused. Did griffons really see as well as Earth raptors?
"I see the storm now." She hurried to the edge of the railing, looking off for another few seconds. Her claws dug deep into the wood. Yet she left him in painful silence, with only the whipping of the wind through the sails around them.
"What do you see?" he pressed, after waiting for almost a minute. The ship was still distant—whole miles away, though it was hard to be sure about range. His estimates betrayed him up here in the clouds.
"That vessel is called the Eagle's Talon—one of the greatest and most widely feared of its kind. It hosts several dozen fierce warriors, all of which are veterans of many battles. Old Captain Callahan had more friends than I thought. Or maybe they just want to fight this strange crew of ponies who resist them like birds."
Dozens? Blake needed no statistics degree to run those odds. A single gun that could fire once if they were very lucky. Six men against dozens. Doomed. "What do we do?"
"If they catch us, we die," Galena said. "They will not use their cannons, or they might have started firing already to frighten us. Retaking the Bright Hawk will be a mark of pride. So they will grapple our vessels together, then send warriors to kill us. After killing the previous captain, none of us will be spared."
Blake turned away, hurrying back to the helm. "Then we can't let them catch us. What do we do?"
Galena looked up, grinning weakly. "They have no sail. We can turn, put our backs to the wind, and ride her directly. Off course, but... better than dead. The Eagle's Talon have no sails, and are not shaped for a swift chase. We may outrun them."
"You should take this," Blake said, gesturing to the wheel. "I'll get the others up here. Tell us what to do."
Galena nodded. "Pray to every ancestor you know that the wind does not fail us. Then get on the sails. Time to lower the aft and reserve sails as well. We will extract every ounce of speed the wind can spare."
Blake sprinted down the stairs to obey—except for the prayers. It didn't seem like his ancestors would hear him all the way in another universe.