Ryan watched the stony wasteland retreat behind them, with only the faint red flicker of embers as any sign of their near-immolation
He hadn't yet returned to his own body. He could've at any moment—yet he couldn't close his eyes without remembering the flames blasting up against him. Would Blake do that again? He might not need to sleep much, but Ryan was near to exhaustion. Surviving our escape burned almost all the magic I had.
Ryan hadn't felt so hungry since his first moments awake.
That alone was a reminder of why he'd come out here in the first place. It was time to make another recording in the journal. Someone needed to keep a record of what they'd done.
If anyone else listens to this before I transcribe it, they're going to have a great time figuring out that it only has one author. But that wasn't a compelling enough reason to change back. He'd already recorded a dozen entries wearing bodies that weren't his own.
"Journal, day... whichever day this is. I think maybe low forties. Late 30s. Somewhere in there."
He didn't actually stand over the edge—holding the recorder over the brink like that was far too frightening. One slip, and every record of their expedition here would vanish forever.
"Landed in Canter Creek, and the ponies there were friendly. Pointed us to the Worldgate. We had to negotiate with buffalo to get in. They let us in, but only after some warnings about the danger. There was something different about the Worldgate. They knew it, knew there was something wrong with it, but we didn't understand what.
"We know now. Canter Creek's Worldgate doesn't transform you as you pass through it. This would've been great if we found it on the Earth side. It's terrible for us trying to make our way home. Part of getting back to Earth is getting to be ourselves again, and that was taken away.
"But there's some good news: we had service! Before we left, we sent a message to Jolie. Let her know we were alive, plus some non-specific details about what happened. Hopefully they can meet up with us at a future Worldgate and get gear for a larger expedition. That would also be a chance for those of us who are completely done with this shit to get out.
"We didn't stay long enough to wait for a reply—people were looking at us from the freeway. I'm not sure they could see, it was still dark and we were far away. But if we waited a little longer, they would've noticed for sure."
He stopped then, staring down at the reflective scales on one hoof. Bits of ash were still stuck in one of them, a faint reminder of what he'd been through earlier today. How much should he include about that?
Footsteps sounded on the deck behind him, somehow softer and lighter than most. Blake wasn't sneaking up on him to scream about how his recording of the day's events wasn't favorable enough. But while disguised, his bug senses didn’t let him judge the feelings of the pony without seeing them.
Vesper and Galena were working to navigate them now, they would be too busy. And besides, it wasn't like Blake hadn't screwed up. They were damn lucky his little outburst hadn't caused an out-of-control wildfire. Yet.
"Blake had some trouble controlling his powers when we came back through. There was a lot of fire. We made it far enough away that no one was hurt, thankfully. Buffalo ran away, so I think they made it to safety too. Hopefully."
Kaelynn appeared behind him. Her body glittered in the light, scaly skin reflecting the moon overhead. He didn't stop—Kaelynn had seen him recording this before. She could listen in if she wanted. She was his girlfriend, after all.
"Not sure where we'll go next. There are other Worldgates down in the outskirts, but the pirates are still following. An Equestrian naval ship told us to stay inland, and I think that's the best move. Maybe it's about time we get to experience the pony country for ourselves."
He ended the recording then, tucking it away just as Kaelynn approached him. "Can you not look like that?" she asked. In this body, her voice was a little less interesting to listen to. It just wasn't as musical. "I want to see you, Ryan."
Normally he'd obey a request like that without even thinking about it. But just now, he hesitated. "I don't have a lot of strength left. If I change, I might not be able to be anything else for a while."
She grinned. "There's a way to fix that, isn't there?" She glanced once up the deck, to where Vesper was fighting with a pully, trimming one of the sails. "I have these brand new legs to test out. You could help me."
"Even if I'm myself?" he asked. "Being Blake might make that easier for you. Instead of a... bug."
She shook her head. "Maybe another night. But after what I just saw, I think I'd rather sleep with you. You might have an exoskeleton, but you didn't almost burn us to death. I'll call that a win."
Even while disguised, he could never miss her desire. It was a confusing mix of intoxicating perfume and the steam rising from an oven filled with food ready to be removed and devoured.
It was impossible for him to resist.
Ryan returned to his own body in a flash. That process barely required any energy, unlike copying anything. There was no strict human analogue for the sensation, but it felt a little like releasing an uncomfortable posture after holding stiff for hours. A slight, subtle decrease in effort, and he was himself again.
The darkness retreated, as his insect eyes made the entire ship and everything around it clearly visible. But most of it was gray and lifeless, like putting a night vision filter over his whole world.
Except for Kaelynn. She radiated her own kind of light, though it didn't reach beyond her body. Her blue coat lit up clearly, with darker patterns forming swirls and patches on her underside and down her hooves.
He could sense again too. Kaelynn did want to be close to him, more than anything else. "You don't want sex," he said, resting one hoof on her shoulder. "You just don't want to be alone tonight." The difference was more disappointing to his human side than this body—affection and closeness would be enough for a meal, even if it didn't go as far as some nights.
She blushed, huge ears folding back. "Its's not fair you can do that. Maybe you should've stayed a dragon."
He shrugged. "A list of disadvantages as long as mine, I was bound to get something good out of all this. Let me just stash my recorder, and we can go back to your room."
"No," she said, blocking him with one leg. "Not mine. Yours. I don't want to try changing back tonight."
He didn't argue. Either way he'd be belowdecks, so less available if they were ambushed in the darkness. But he also wouldn't sleep like the others—when Galena finally collapsed, when Kaelynn was asleep, he could join Jordan on the deck to navigate them through the darkness.
"There's not much in my room," he began. "We probably—"
"I know how you were," Kaelynn said. "If it's as messy as your place back on Earth, I don't care. It's fine."
He meant what he said. When he flung the door open, there was very little on the other side. His bed was pristine, still folded from the time Kaelynn had made it for him. Not a wrinkle or a crease, because he'd never used it.
There were a few notes scattered at the desk, but that was all.
"I've spent the last few weeks with you, Kaelynn," he said. "And it's not like we really own anything. I don't sleep, so I didn't come back here. When I wasn't with you, I was somewhere else."
"Don't sleep." She shuffled nervously on her hooves, by the door. "Does that mean..."
He pulled her inside, clicking the door closed behind them. He even reached up to latch it, just in case the night went somewhere more interesting. "I'd rather be with you than be alone, Kaelynn. And I know you must be tired. When was the last time you slept out in the air?"
"Mount Aris." She pulled the blankets aside, then climbed in. He followed. Her smell wasn't as strong out of the water, though he could somehow recognize it anyway. Ryan was past feeling weird about their physical arrangement. What did it mean that most of their relationship took place underwater?
But then he smelled the ash, and he silenced that part of his brain. They had just survived a struggle for their lives, one that could've burned the whole crew.
Besides, being close to her was its own reward. She said little, curling up against him from below. She was far softer than he was, scales yielding to the touch just as she had been in the water. But out here, her warmth was so much stronger.
"Do you really think he would've burned us?" she whispered, after a while. Hours? Minutes? He couldn't tell. But Kaelynn sounded barely awake. "He stopped..."
"He stopped," Ryan repeated. Did he hit me because he knew it wouldn't hurt? "I don’t think he would've hurt us. Instinct is... powerful. I thought I was the only one who had any, but maybe not. He's part dragon."
Kaelynn made a contemplative sound, a little chirp, one Ryan couldn't even describe. "But it shouldn't be hard not to burn your friends."
He nodded his agreement. "He backed down eventually, I think that means Blake is still in control. He won't let instinct control him, just like I won't."
She nodded, but didn't say anything else. Kaelynn really was exhausted.
Whatever else might be true about the magic or the instincts Ryan felt in this new body, he needed nothing supernatural to appreciate a few hours together with someone he cared about. He never slept exactly, but he did drift, until his time spent with her blurred together.
But eventually she was asleep, and Ryan began to get agitated. If only there weren't evil pirates following us, I could be down here all night.
It was easier to slip away from her when they were underwater—the contact was less direct, and the liquid insulated his movement.
Maybe it was just her exhaustion, or maybe it was good luck. Either way, she didn't stir as he retreated, slipping out from under the blanket. He had no hair to straighten, no clothes to put back on—they were already naked.
He remained by the door, feeling the almost imperceptible pressure of a sleeping mind on the other side. He could sense her clearly, even when she wasn't awake to experience emotions.
There were two other creatures asleep nearby. The closest, coming from Blake's room, tossed and turned in his sleep. Was he reliving the evening's failures, overwhelmed with guilt?
Jordan might be able to feel something like that, or maybe just visit him in the “dream world.” But that was obviously just as real as anyone else's powers.
Ryan walked back up the hall to the deck. He found no one until he was back above. There were two of them up here—Jordan on the helm, and an exhausted Janet working the sails.
Ryan made his way up the secondary stairwell to the helm, waving with one hoof. The bat looked up, obviously seeing him—and showed no sign of disgust. Despite being mostly nocturnal, the only emotion Ryan felt from her was exhaustion. "Hey."
"Hey," Ryan repeated. "Anything following us?"
Vesper nodded. "Scouts. We're flying below the clouds, low enough that they have to keep weaving up and down. If we can keep going all night, we should wear them out."
Ryan gestured at the wheel. "You can do that now?"
The bat grinned toothily at him. "Nope! All I know how to do is keep this mark between these lines." She gestured at the instruments, particularly the one just beside the helm."
"Artificial horizon," Ryan said. "You're keeping us level."
"Trying!" Vesper agreed. "It's straight north until the others wake up, and we can decide where to go next."
"Can I help?"
In answer, the bat stepped aside, taking her hooves off the wheel. "You want to fly us for a while? I need to piss like a racehorse."