Chapter 1: The Ruse

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I looked up from my lunch when I heard a chair on the other side of the table pull out, the legs groaning loudly as they ground against the floor. A very ticked off orange dragon stood next to it, gripping her lunch tray so tightly that her claws were surely going to leave dents.

“How’d it go?” I asked.

Smolder took her seat with sass, not so much sitting down as throwing herself into it. She grumbled in response, but didn’t say anything. The scowl smeared across her face did most of the talking.

“Did you have any idea on number 47? I think it came from the chapter on—”

“Gallus, shut up,” she snapped. “Five minutes. Give me five minutes before you make me think about anything.”

I closed my beak and, since there wasn’t anyone else at the table to talk to, turned my attention to the doorway at the far end of the lunchroom. Smolder and I finished Professor Twilight’s exam fast, and that probably spoke for how we both did. The others, who actually had a chance of doing well, would take a little bit longer.

I drummed my talons on the table, the rhythm of it calming my stomach a bit. With the exam finished, I was nervous now for a different reason. I had a question for my friends, one that could change everything for me.

The school year and all of its craziness was now officially dead and buried, and everyone would head home for the summer over the next couple of days. The thought of returning to Griffonstone for three whole months was enough to turn my stomach, so I wanted an out. Odds were good that I’d get a unanimous “no” and go home anyway, but I still had to try. I needed them all here to ask it, though, so I had a few minutes to prepare myself.

Our usual table was near the front of the room, right next to the food line. Other students were slowly ambling in, but the room was mostly empty. My food didn't interest me much, so I spent my time awkwardly darting my eyes around the room, searching for something of interest to occupy my mind. A few more minutes dragged by, and the first one of our group to join us was Ocellus. She climbed into her seat directly across from me with a quick buzz of her translucent wings.

Now, I knew this was a school of friendship, and I just took an entire exam over friendship, but I couldn’t help feeling the slightest bit annoyed by that happy little smile on her muzzle. Nobody had any right to be that happy after having their brain run through a cheese grater. Not even the nerds.

I must have been giving her more stink-eye than I’d intended, because her smile quickly dried up as her pupil-less eyes settled on me. “What is it, Gallus?”

“Sorry.” I shook my head to try and reset my face. “Just... zoned out for a second,” I lied. Telling her what I’d really been thinking wasn’t the best idea.

The smile came back again, though less pronounced. “Oh, yeah, I understand. That test was a doozy, even for me.”

Sure it was, Bookbug. Sure it was.

“My brain hurts,” I said idly, scooping up a bite of my mashed potatoes. Equestria was great in comparison to Griffonstone in just about every aspect except for the food. Living in a society composed of herbivores made meat a difficult thing to come by, if not outright taboo. The food here wasn’t terrible, but as I chewed over the bland mush, I longed for a steak, or at least something meat-based.

The table shifted under the arm I was leaning my head against, shaking the thought from my mind. Yona took the seat to Ocellus’ right, and Sandbar followed, sitting next to Yona and immediately to my left.

“School! Is! Out!” Yona shouted, banging a hoof on the table. The accompanying lurch made me more or less punch myself in the cheek, and that was when I decided to stop leaning on my elbow. Smolder noticed me pull my arm back and snickered to herself.

“How do you guys feel?” asked Sandbar.

“I don’t even want to think about it until I get my report card in the mail,” said Smolder.

Ocellus turned to Smolder. “Did you—”

“If you want to live, don’t finish that sentence,” Smolder snapped, pointing a claw directly at Ocellus’ muzzle.

Ocellus shrank back in her chair. “Sorry.”

“Hey guys!” There was the last straggler. I felt a small gust of wind as Silverstream claimed the final spot at the table on my right, hovering just above the ground. She vaulted over the back of her chair and sat down without ever touching the floor. “Now that was an exam! Professor Twilight said it was going to be hard, but wow!”

“I don’t get how you four can be so upbeat,” said Smolder. “Every time I take a test, my head hurts for like the rest of the day.”

“Did you study?” asked Silverstream. That must have been the same question Ocellus was going to ask, because it made Smolder snort derisively.

“Yes! I did!” Smolder threw her hands up, ready to start ranting, but then she went wide-eyed for a second, took a deep breath, and deflated. “Sorry. I don’t think I did well on that one. I spent most of my study time on the history of friendship, but the test focused more on friendship theory.” She sighed. “I’m frustrated; sorry if I’m snapping at you.”

“I bet you did better than you think,” said Ocellus. “Even if you didn’t cover theory that much in your studying, the fact that you’re sitting at this table is evidence that you’re not as bad at that as you think you are."

“Maybe,” said Smolder, the faintest hint of a smile forming at the corners of her mouth. “I guess all I can do now is wait. My fate’s in Twilight’s hooves now.”

The conversation hit a lull while everyone focused on their lunch. I let it sit for a minute, but when chatter didn’t pick back up, I decided it was time. I chose to use a soft approach and start with a slight misdirect, working around to the actual question.

I didn’t want to seem desperate or anything.

“So, how much longer are you guys staying?” I scanned around the table, watching faces for their responses.

“Like, another hour,” said Smolder. “I barely have anything to pack, so I’m flying back pretty much right after this. I’ve got a lava pit with my name on it back home.”

“Yona leaves tomorrow morning,” she said. “Prince Rutherford is coming to pick Yona up.”

“Same here,” said Silverstream. “Well, Prince Rutherford isn’t coming to pick me up, but my dad is!” Her grin widened. “I haven’t seen my family in so long.”

“I’ll be around until tomorrow afternoon,” said Ocellus.

“I’m leaving tomorrow too,” said Sandbar, earning looks from everyone at the table.

“Uh, you live here,” said Silverstream.

“That was the joke.”

I rolled my eyes, and I assume a few others did too. I couldn’t see them while my vision traced a circle around the room.

“What about you, Gallus?” asked Ocellus.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got… plans,” I said, a pit of dread opening up in my gut. I’d known my friends for the better part of a year, and yet for some reason, I still felt the need to cover up exactly how little of a life I had back home in Griffonstone. That topic was about to come up again, and even though it was necessary, I hated it.

The lie was as paperthin as I’d intended. Everyone, with the exception of Smolder, had picked up on the implication and was looking at me with eyes full of sympathy. The attention wasn’t particularly pleasant, and I squirmed in my chair before letting out a sigh of defeat. “Fine. I don’t know when I’m leaving. I don’t even know what I’m doing this summer. It’s not like there’s much waiting for me back home.”

I heard two of the girls say a muddled combination of “oh” and “aww”, but I didn’t pay attention to exactly who it was. I took another bite of my potato mush while I waited for the spotlight to move off of me.

It didn’t, exactly as I’d hoped. When I finished chewing, I glanced around to see expectant looks across the board. Even Smolder looked a little concerned. “Guys, it’s not a big deal.”

“But it is!” said Silverstream. I hadn’t looked directly at her, but I was forced to when she draped an arm over my shoulders. “We can’t just leave you alone for three months.”

“I’m used to it,” I said, the words tasting faintly acidic on the way out of my beak. Really, this was no different from the tricks I used when haggling at the markets in Griffonstone. Downplaying things, acting like I wasn’t desperate, leading the others in. After the incident over Hearth’s Warming when I’d opened up and told everyone about my home life, I’d seen a subtle shift in how my friends treated me. They pitied me and my situation, and I could use that.

Maybe friendship school hadn’t taught me that much after all. Here I was, manipulating my friends into saving me from a miserable summer. Disgust washed through my mind, but I kept it to myself. I could live with a little guilt if it meant not going home. “I’ve spent most of my life alone. I can handle another three months.”

That was the final act I needed to make the pity party a success. Silverstream swung herself around in front of me and looked me straight in the eyes, her beak just an inch from mine. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” she said. Then she turned to face the others. “Come on guys, we can figure something out if we put our heads together!"

“I can already tell you I’m not gonna be any help. I know you griffons are tougher than you look, but I don’t think you could handle the Dragon Lands for more than a couple of days,” said Smolder. I couldn’t argue with that, and neither could Silverstream.

“Same here,” said Ocellus. “The Badlands are fine for Changelings, but we don’t really depend on regular food all that much.” She gestured to her tray, which held only a few morsels. “You’d have a tough time staying fed out there,” she said, offering a shrug and eyes that screamed “sorry”.

“I know my parents would let you crash at my place for a while, but I don’t know if they’d be good for three months,” said Sandbar. “I can ask though.”

“Yaks will take Gallus!” Yona shouted. “Yaks best at hospitality! Griffon can stay with Yona and learn smash like real yak.”

I gulped. A whole summer living with yaks, most of them much bigger than Yona. And they loved to smash things; I could easily wind up in that category.

“No offense, Yona, but I’d like to survive the summer,” I said. Yona looked a little disappointed, so I added a white lie onto it. “I don’t like the cold that much anyway. I appreciate it, though.” She nodded, which made me feel a little better about it.

“So that leaves me. Hmm...” said Silverstream. “I don’t think I have any room with my dad. And my mom lives underwater, so you don’t want to do that. Trust me.”

The mood at the table fell, everyone except Silverstream settling down to eat their lunch. She hovered next to me, eyes fixed on the ceiling with a claw hooked under her beak, deep in thought.

“Well, this is promising,” I said. It sounded better in my head, but my half-hearted attempt at a quip fell flat, doing nothing to break the silence. After another minute or so, Silverstream went back to her seat and started eating, though her mind was elsewhere, pondering something as she chewed. It seemed that the conversation was over, so I shoveled the rest of my potatoes into my beak and swallowed them as quickly as I could, letting my mind wander toward thoughts of home.

It just soured my mood.

I was about ready to excuse myself and head back to the dorms when Silverstream spoke up. “Sandbar?”

“What’s up?”

“Are you sure Gallus can stay with you for a few days?"

“Yeah, totally.”

“Sweet!” Silverstream turned to me next. “Ok, Gallus. I think I figured it out.”

“What is it?” My heart jumped. Had my plan worked after all?

“I’ll tell you later.” She hopped up from her seat and collected her tray. “I’ve got some planning to do. I’ll see you guys back at the dorms!” And with that, she immediately raced off with a big grin on her face.

I looked around at the rest of the group incredulously. “I’m scared.”

That leavened the mood a bit, earning a few chuckles. “I’ll see you guys up there,” I said, hopping up from the table. I dropped my tray off at the dishwasher’s window and left the lunchroom.

After Smolder left that afternoon, we found ourselves with a little free time to hang out around Ponyville, so we decided our last act as a semi-together group for this school year would be bowling. It was fun, but we all sucked. The afternoon passed in what felt like the blink of an eye, and then we spent most of the evening packing up our belongings to be out of the dorms before the deadline the next morning.

Well, the rest of them did. I spent a lot of time bouncing between rooms, talking to everyone to keep myself distracted. Silverstream didn’t make any mention of her plans while we hung out, so I was anxious. Once I ran out of conversations to have, I retired to my room and started reading one of the books Ocellus gave me for Hearth’s Warming.

It was more bittersweet the next morning when Yona and Silverstream left. Whereas Smolder had taken off without much fanfare, Silverstream spent the better part of half an hour going around and saying her—sometimes tearful—goodbyes to everyone she seemed to have ever met at the school, including all of the teachers. I was the last one she came to, and instead of the tears and sadness I was expecting, she looked to me with a big grin.

“Bye, Gallus!” she said, wrapping me in a hug that was tighter than I’d normally expect from someone as light as her.

“Have a safe trip back,” I said, patting her once on the back and then stepping back to cut the hug short.

She didn’t let go immediately, but she took the hint quickly enough and let go. “So, question: do you mind working this summer?”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Remember yesterday, we were trying to figure out what to do for your summer?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, work’s fine.”

“Great!” she said, clapping her hands together. “I’m going to send a letter to Sandbar’s house for you sometime next week. I’ll let you know what I find out!”

She turned to leave, but I stopped her. “Wait, you’re getting me a job?”

“I’m gonna try to, yeah.”

“What kind of job?"

She giggled and waved her claw dismissively. “Oh, Gallus, you don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

I deadpanned at her. “Uh, Silver. That’s kind of important. I need to know what kind of job it is.”

She deflated, but nodded. “I guess that’s fair. I don’t know all of the specifics, but I’m going to ask my dad if he can find a temporary spot in the Hippogriff Navy for you.”

“The… the Navy?” I stammered. “Like the ‘sailing around, fighting pirates’ Navy?"

“Yep!” she said. “If my dad says no, I can just ask my aunt. She’s the queen, so she’ll be able to make something happen.”

I took a second to mull it over. I’d never been near a boat bigger than a canoe before, and I didn’t know the first thing about sailing. I didn’t know how dangerous the job was, what kind of hippogriffs I’d be around, or really anything. It’d be a major step outside of my comfort zone.

She picked up on my hesitation. “Well, does that sound okay?”

I looked her in the eyes, and then I nodded. “Boats are pretty cool, I guess.”

“Great!” She pounced on me with another hug, but this time pulled away quickly enough that I didn’t have to break it myself. “I’ll try to get it all figured out as quick as I can.”

“Sounds good,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “So, I guess I’ll see you next week?”

“Next week.” She turned to leave. “I hope,” she added. “See ya!”

Silverstream left me alone, and I spent the next hour or so cleaning my room and packing. It was just me, Sandbar, and Ocellus for the rest of the afternoon, and when she left that evening, I gathered my stuff and headed to Sandbar’s house.

The next few days at Sandbar’s house were uneventful. His family was pretty nice, but I could see just a little bit of unease on his little sister’s face when she was around me. I caught her staring wide-eyed at my beak and talons a few times over the weekend that I was there.

I seemed to get that fairly often from ponies, especially young ones. I didn’t think of myself as intimidating, but I guess thousands of years of civilization still couldn’t quite put the old predator/prey dynamic all the way to bed. Nothing ever came of it, though, so I didn’t spend much time worrying about it.

We all took a trip on Saturday to a place called “Hare’s Foot Falls” out somewhere in the middle of Whitetail Woods and spent the day hiking around and sightseeing. It was a peaceful day, and I managed to break away from the group on occasion to allot myself some alone time. Free from the distractions of the group, my thoughts shifted to my summer plans.

I was nervous about Silverstream’s letter and what it might say. She sounded confident in her ability to find a job for me, but I was skeptical. Even for as well-connected as she was, she was just a teenager like me. I had my doubts about how much sway she actually held, so I had to prepare myself for the very real possibility that I’d be heading home to Griffonstone next week.

That scared me a lot more now than it had just a few days ago. Going home shouldn’t have been a big deal; it was familiar, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I’d have been fine whatever the outcome, but now, I had hope. I knew they all pitied me because I was an orphan, and I’d milked their sympathy for my own personal gain. Well, maybe it wasn’t all personal gain. Now Silverstream would get to spend the summer with me around! Who wouldn’t love that?

I grimaced. Narcissism wasn’t a luxury I often afforded myself, but here I was, trying to use it to justify manipulating my friends. I wasn’t graduating from that damned school anytime soon, not doing stuff like this.

Regardless of whether or not it was ethical for me to play my friends fairly harmlessly to my advantage, now I had a real shot of staying out of that hole, and I was excited for it. But it wasn’t a certainty. Silverstream’s letter could very well just tell me that the plan was off, that she couldn’t make it work. Better luck next time, try again.

I wasn’t prepared to have my hopes dashed.

The weekend came and went, as did Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. It was Thursday morning, and I was sitting in the den, eating a bowl of sugary, marshmallowy cereal. It probably had as much nutritional value to me as sawdust, though I couldn’t deny that it still tasted good. Dumping that amount of sugar into just about anything would probably make it delicious.

Today had to be the day. I’d expected her letter by Tuesday, but my hopes were still intact. I told myself that if she didn’t get a letter here by the weekend, then I could assume that meant “no” by default. I was starting to sense my welcome running a little thin, anyway. I figured Sandbar’s family would be sick of me by Saturday, and so that would be when I threw in the towel and went home.

The front door opened, and in walked Sandbar’s dad. He was wearing a robe and carrying a cup of coffee in one hoof, the day’s mail tucked under his arm. He disappeared into the kitchen, and I trained my ears on the doorway, listening for any signs of good news. After a few minutes, I heard his slippers shuffling on the linoleum floor, and then he entered the den holding a letter.

I immediately jumped up, as did my heart rate.

“And one for Gallus,” he said with a smile, passing the letter to me.

I took the letter and immediately sliced it open with a talon. I felt a knot of dread in my stomach, but I didn’t particularly care. Anticipation outweighed any anxiety I felt, and I unfolded the letter. It was a bit shorter than I’d expected.

Hey Gallus!

Sorry it took so long, but things got a little more complex than I figured they would. Apparently there was some international law stuff that we had to take care of in order to get you here (and trust me, my dad was not happy about all the hoops he had to jump through. Maybe bring him a thank you note or something), but it looks like we’re all set now. I think they’re going to make you a “temporary cadet” or something like that. I didn’t catch all of the details. They want you here on Saturday to meet with the General and get a few things worked out. I can’t wait to see you!

~ Silverstream

My grin grew steadily as I read, and by the end of it, I was positively beaming. My little scheme had paid off royally, and now I had a plan for my summer. I couldn’t help it when I jumped in the air and shouted, “YES!” at the top of my lungs.

When I landed back on the floor, I was greeted with the sight of Sandbar’s dad clutching a lamp that had fallen toward him and he was shooting me a glare. I guessed one of my wings bumped it when I jumped.

“I know we didn’t go over this in the house rules, but can you not do that again?” he asked.

I deflated and folded my wings in, but the smile didn’t leave my beak. “Sorry, got a little carried away.”

He chuckled. Apparently Sandbar’s mellow attitude ran in the family. “I take it that’s good news?” he said, leaning the lamp upright.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m going to Mount Aris!”

My grin only grew wider as I dashed down the hall to the guest bedroom so I could gather my things. I had a train to catch.

Chapter 2: Settle In

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The moment the carriage door opened, I was assaulted by humidity. The air felt thick, like I could reach out and cut it with my talons. The air conditioning in the coach was no match for the soup that was rushing in to replace it. I hesitated to step out, letting a few of the other passengers take the initiative first. A couple of hippogriffs and several ponies walked outside like nothing was wrong, like the air wasn’t trying to suffocate them.

Maybe that’s just the nerves talking. I took a deep breath of that hot, heavy air and held it. There wasn’t anything stopping me. The air was humid, but I could still breathe. Yonder lay opportunity, a land that could hold anything and anyone.

I guess that was what scared me. Regardless of my fear, the train wouldn’t stay here forever, and I only had a one-way ticket. I let the breath go and stepped out of the train car, forward into oblivion.

The air was warm, but the sun was warmer. I could feel the heat through my feathers almost instantly, and I knew I’d be drenched with sweat in no time. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked down the platform, slipping past several groups of passengers standing around talking amongst themselves.

The whole time, however, my eyes were drawn upward, towards the mountain itself. To call it a spectacle would be an understatement—it was tall and steep, though that alone wasn’t what set it apart; two great walls of stone wrapped around the sides of the peak, resembling a pair of huge outstretched wings, extending from a tall spire at the summit. They seemed to float in place separately from the mountain, cradling the city on the hill and protecting it from some huge, invisible attacker.

I could see two clusters of buildings, one around the base of Mount Aris, and the other at the summit. A smattering of others filled the space between the two main groups, built in random places along the winding path that climbed the steep slope. It zigzagged back and forth a dozen times on its way up to the top. Judging by how small the buildings looked from here, each wing was probably at least a mile long from the spire to the tips near the base.

I had to stop for a moment to marvel. I’d seen pictures of it before, but none of them did justice to the scale of the place.

“Gallus!”

Before I had more time to gawk, my vision suddenly filled with pink and blue and my chest was crushed in a wickedly tight hug.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so happy to see you!”

Silverstream caught me off guard, to say the least. I returned her hug briefly, but cut it short with a step backward. “Good to see you, too,” I said.

“How was the trip?” she asked, smiling wide.

“It was alright,” I said, smoothing out the feathers that she’d ruffled on my back. “About like any other train trip I’ve ever taken, but I haven’t ever slept on a train, so that was new.”

“That’s my favorite part! I sleep like a baby every time I come back from Ponyville.”

I yawned. “Honestly, I’ve had better. Didn’t care for all the rocking, and it was… noisy.”

Silverstream giggled and beckoned towards me with an outstretched claw. “I bet you’ll sleep well tonight once you’re settled. Speaking of which, we need to get moving. Follow me!”

We left the platform and went down some stairs that led to a stone walkway which paralleled the beach. More hippogriffs were out there in the sand, and I could see a few seaponies hanging out in the shallows near them. Families, maybe? Silverstream had mentioned that a lot of hippogriffs went back and forth between land and sea.

“So, how did you know exactly when I’d be here?” I asked.

“Pssh, it isn’t rocket science, Gallus,” she said. “We get two trains every day at the same times and I figured you’d be on one of them, so I just came down here to watch for you. Good thing you were on the first one, otherwise that would have been a waste of thirty minutes.”

“Fair enough,” I said, and we continued our walk. The path was level down by the sea, but it quickly turned upwards, and so we climbed.

We passed a building on my right, and I again found myself staring. It looked strange, the walls composed of some kind of faintly translucent material that looked like glass but clearly wasn’t, this particular one the color of solidified orange juice. Large panels of this mystery material were set into a wooden frame. It and most of the other buildings I could see were round, the ovular wall panels bound together at the top by more triangular ones of the same material, coming together in a point like a circus tent.

“Gotta say, these buildings are… interesting,” I commented.

“Yep! Aren’t they great?”

“I was thinking more like weird.”

Silverstream’s ears flattened a bit. “You don’t like them?”

“No, they’re fine!” I said, covering my tracks. That hadn’t been worded well. “I just haven’t ever seen buildings made of… whatever that stuff is.” I pointed to the building, which at that moment, a tall hippogriff was walking out of with a small bag. She gave me a funny look, to which I replied with an awkward smile and wave.

“Oh, yeah. I guess our buildings do look a little different. We used to make them like ponies do with more wood and stuff, but we had to build differently when we went underwater. Now that we’re back on the surface, we decided we liked how open the buildings underwater felt, so that’s how we build them now!”

I decided not to mention my distaste for the fact that I’d be visible most times of the day, or at least my silhouette would be. “Are they sturdy?”

“Mhm! They’re totally safe if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, dismissing my concern with a wave of her claw.

I shrugged and we kept walking for a few feet before Silverstream darted ahead and spread her wings, taking to the air. “Come on!” she shouted over her shoulder.

I followed suit. I hadn’t gotten the chance to stretch my wings in the last forty-eight hours, and I could feel the stiffness in them as I flapped hard to keep up with her. She was light and fast, apparently just a little more so than me; she gained a considerable lead on me before she noticed me lagging and waited up.

“Sluggish?” she asked as I closed the gap.

“Just smelling the roses,” I said with a chuckle.

She giggled and started off again, this time keeping her speed in check. Our flight up was leisurely, allowing me time to take in more of the scenery. Mount Aris was an island, or at least it had been until the rail line was built. The causeway across the shallow bay that separated Aris from the mainland was obviously built by creatures, just as were the massive stone wings that surrounded it on all sides but one.

Below us, the path up the side of the mountain zigzagged lazily to and fro. I could make out the faint multicolored dots of what I assumed were ponies making their way along it. It figured that the majority of the traffic on that path was tourists; it made little sense for a hippogriff to trudge up the mountain when flying was infinitely easier.

As we gained altitude, the humidity steadily decreased alongside the temperature. Where it’d been hot and muggy at the beach, it was much more pleasant and dry as we approached the altitude of the summit.

Now I get why they chose to live up here, I mused. The city at the top of the mountain came into view bit by bit as we rose. A great stone arch chiseled into the visage of two hippogriffs facing each other marked the official beginning of the city. It sat a little past halfway up the grade, and from there on, it was a forest of activity and color. Much like Griffonstone, most of the buildings in the city appeared to be built atop large trees, the weird carousel-shaped glass huts occupying branches in random sequences, nothing like the regularity and structure of Ponyville’s buildings.

It reminded me of home. I still needed to decide if that was a good thing.

We lowered our angle of ascent, closing in on a landing atop the mountain, and I shook that thought from my head. Of course it wasn’t like Griffonstone. Hippogriffs were probably the only species more enthusiastic to be alive than ponies. The streets below me were full of color and life, hippogriffs out and about in droves; I could already hear the dull roar of activity, even from the air. It was as polar opposite a place to home as I could hope for.

I smiled to myself and looked ahead to Silverstream. “So, what’s the game plan?”

She slowed down and fell in beside me. “Seaspray is really in a hurry to get this going, so we’re gonna drop by your new place for a minute and then go right to him.”

“No sightseeing?”

She shook her head. “Nope! I have to get you there S-T-P!”

I cocked an eyebrow. “S-T-P?"

“Sooner than possible!”

I frowned, slightly disappointed. I’d never so much as seen anywhere as stunning as Mount Aris before, so I’d been hoping for some time to explore the city. It made sense, though. I wasn’t exactly here on vacation.

We came in for a landing in the middle of what looked to be a market square. Our arrival was a mere drop in the bucket, hardly noticed amongst the general bustle of the crowd as they went in and out of the shops that lined the outside of the open space. Now that I was on the ground, I could get a better feel for the way hippogriffs liked to build. Some houses were free-standing, like the ones on the beach at the base of the mountain, but the majority of the homes were built in the trunks of the small forest of thick trees that grew up here. They still made use of the glass carousels toward the tops of the trees, building rooms atop forks in the branches.

“My new place?” I asked. “You mean I get my own… hut? Carousel? Whatever they’re called?”

“House,” she corrected. “And kinda, sorta. You won’t be alone, but you’ll have your own room and share the place with another griff.”

“So, like an apartment?”

“Yep!”

“Huh. I kinda figured I’d be staying with you or something,” I said.

She laughed. “I wish, but we don’t have a spare room up here. I wouldn’t make you just sleep on the couch for the whole summer.”

“That’s still better than if I’d gone home,” I muttered. Silverstream looked back at me with a grimace. I’d picked at the sympathy again without intending to. I’d already done enough of that to get myself here in the first place, so I elected to ignore it. “Shall we?” I gestured toward the path to start us moving again.

I’d lost my sense of direction, but it felt like we took a road northeast out of the market square. The forest of tree houses formed a sort of canopy above the path, providing some shade which I was thankful for.

We walked for a couple of minutes on this street, took a right at the first intersection we found, and then stopped at the fourth house down that road. It was fairly small compared to the others on the row, but it was still a very large tree. I’d seen the remains of Ponyville’s old library hanging from the ceiling of Twilight Sparkle’s castle; this looked to have a similar diameter, large enough to fit an entire not-so-small room inside of it. On either side of the tree about ten feet above the ground, two branches—either about as thick as my wingspan—split off from the trunk, and perched atop those branches were more of the translucent circus-tent-room-things.

Silverstream had been wearing a key alongside her usual pearl fragment necklace, and she leaned up close to the lock to use it, not bothering to take the necklace off. The door opened into a dark room, thin streaks of blue light slicing across from windows on the far side of the tree. Silverstream flicked the lights on with a sweep of her tail and turned to me.

“Here we are!” she announced, singing the last word.

I stepped into the den and took a look around. The decorating was sparse, just a simple picture of some kind of purple flower hanging on the back wall. The den was dual-purpose, a small living room with a row of countertops and a stove on the right wall that formed a tiny kitchenette. On either side of the room was a hallway, which I assumed led up to the bedrooms.

“Cozy,” I commented, the faintest hint of sarcasm in my tone.

“Very cozy,” she agreed, apparently missing it. “Your room is gonna be up the ramp over here.” She gestured to the hall on the left side of the room.

I walked over to it and immediately noticed that it was more of a tube than a ramp. The hall was round except for the floor, and I could easily tell that it was hollowed out from one of those big branches I’d seen outside.

I climbed the ramp. The tube was just tall enough to keep me from freaking out about how enclosed it felt, but still not open enough to make me feel comfortable. At least it was short, only rising a few feet from the level of the den before it opened out into the bedroom, which felt very opposite to the common areas of the apartment. The big panels of translucent stuff—I decided I was just going to call them windows now—made the room feel much more open, despite not being all that much bigger than the den. The ceiling was much higher, even affording me enough room to spread my wings and hover a few feet off the ground. The room was round, with a bed on the far side from the doorway. Next to it was a nightstand, and that was it. No decorations, just a crystal light fixture hanging from the center of the ceiling, and no...

“Uh, Silverstream? Where’s the bathroom?”

“Why? You need to go?”

I blanched at her. “No. But I didn’t see one anywhere. Don’t tell me I have to go outside.”

“Oh!” Silverstream giggled and pointed back toward the hallway. “It’s downstairs. There’s a hatch next to the stove that goes down into it.”

Again, I blanched. “A hatch?”

Silverstream nodded at me, expecting me to fully understand, but when I kept staring at her for a few seconds, she took the hint. “Let me show you.” She led me back down the tube hallway and into the den, pointing to what was—sure enough—a handle sticking up out of the floor. I inspected it, lifting up on the door and swinging it up against the back wall.

“No latch,” I observed. “Privacy isn’t a huge concern to hippogriffs, is it?”

“Well, you don’t want to get locked in down there, do you?”

My mouth went dry as I thought of being trapped in a small, dark hole in the ground. I took a quick breath and tried to push the idea out of my head, instead sticking my head down into the hole. Sure enough, it was just as advertised: A small, windowless basement about six feet by six feet, a toilet, shower, and sink all packed in tight with just enough space to maneuver.

I closed the hatch, and then immediately had another thought cross my mind. “So, what if something falls on the hatch and traps me down there?”

“There’s a hatchet in the medicine cabinet,” said Silverstream. Her face was just deadpan enough to tell me that she wasn’t kidding. “And the door is designed to break off pretty easily.”

Once more my stomach twisted itself into a knot as I thought of trying to hack my way out of a small subterranean bathroom with nothing but desperation and a tiny ax. “Can I just ask, why? Why not make the bathroom a normal room?”

Silverstream shrugged. “I dunno. I didn’t design the house, Gallus."

I blew a breath up into my crest. “Right.”

The room was silent for a moment as I took it all in. This place was definitely going to play with my fear of tight spaces, especially that bathroom. Everything looked pretty barren, and I would always be visible from all sides when I was in my room.

My thoughts must have been plainly written across my face because Silverstream’s eyes saddened. “Do you not like it?”

“I... no, it’s fine,” I said, scratching the back of my head. I turned in a circle, looking around the den one more time. I really didn’t like how low the ceiling felt.

“I can try to find you a better one if you—”

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s going to take a little getting used to, but I’ll be fine here. No worries.”

“Well, I don’t want you to hate the place you’re living in,” she said.

“I don’t hate it,” I clarified. “I just…I don’t really know how to process all this. It’s a lot to take in.” I paused for a moment and looked over the room again. As I did, one of the lessons from school played through my head.

I folded my wings in and lowered my gaze. “Thank you, Silverstream.”

“Aww, you’re welcome! Like I said, it wasn’t a big deal. I’d do this for any of you guys,” she said with a smile. “Go drop your bag off in your room and let’s go. Can’t keep the General waiting!”

I smiled and scurried up the tube, dropping my saddlebags just inside of the door to my room.

My room.

I smiled wider.

My room that I’d basically conned her into giving me.

My smile drooped.

Out on the front steps, Silverstream locked the door behind herself and started walking down the road the way we had come in. The whole fifteen minutes I’d been here had been a whirlwind of information, but I still had questions that needed answering. “So,” I began, “What’s this roommate of mine like?”

“His name is Typhoon Swirl,” she said. “I’ve never met him, but my dad was the one that found the apartment for you. He’s another sailor in the Navy, but that’s all I know.”

I nodded and then felt the urge to laugh. “So, let me get this straight. I came thousands of miles to take a job that I didn’t even ask for, and I’m moving in with a strange hippogriff I’ve never met, in a city I’ve never been to.”

Silverstream laughed too. “Yep!”

“I love it.”

The Hippogriff Navy’s headquarters was located near the sea-level portion of the city, though it was very different from the other buildings. In fact, it wasn’t much of a building at all. Instead of a free-standing structure, the headquarters was carved into the side of the mountain itself, directly underneath the right side wing. The stone wings opened to the west, so that meant it was on the south face of the mountain, I told myself. I could see multiple levels of windows above the main entrance, so the labyrinth inside must have been fairly extensive. It made me wonder if the whole mountain had tunnels running through it.

Silverstream dropped me off in the main lobby, which looked a lot like any waiting room I’d ever seen: plain white walls and a row of chairs with some more-than-likely outdated magazines on a table. I checked in with the receptionist, and less than a minute later, she took me back further into the base.

For being underground, I had to admit that the base was more spacious than I expected. The corridors had obviously been designed with flyers in mind; it was common among griffons to not be fond of tight spaces, and I assumed that also rang true with hippogriffs and pegasi. Being able to fly meant that I was a lot more conscious of how much room I had above me than land-bound creatures, or at least that was what Sandbar made of it when we’d wandered into a discussion on the differences between griffons and ponies a few months ago.

General Seaspray’s office was on the third floor. On the way up the stairs and down the stone halls, I passed a number of hippogriffs who looked… surprisingly casual. I’d expected uniforms, and I’d also expected them to be more formal than what these griffs were wearing. It was a simple yellow vest with a two-layer green neckline. Some of them also wore a green bandana on their heads, but others didn’t. I decided to chalk it up to utility. It didn’t make much sense to wear something fancy and official-looking when it’d probably be ruined by the sea anyway.

His office was at the end of a long hallway that led back toward the front of the base. The door was open, and the receptionist announced our presence by knocking on the doorframe. “General Seaspray, Gallus the Griffon here to see you, sir.” She patted me on the shoulder with a smile, and then left me alone.

I stepped into the office, and that was right when my nerves decided to kick into gear. I’d done well to not sweat the upcoming interview all day, but now that I was here, the butterflies in my stomach decided it was the perfect time to swarm. Before me sat a hippogriff who commanded an entire navy, and I had to impress him enough to let me stay here and serve under him for the next few months.

No pressure.

He looked up from the paperwork on his desk and smiled. “Mister Gallus,” he said, his voice carrying an accent very unlike that of the other hippogriffs I’d heard. It was the sort of posh voice I’d expect out of nobility, though I could tell from the scars on his cheek that he was not a member of that group. “So glad you could make it on such short notice.” He stood and reached across the desk, offering a clawshake. I stepped forward, perhaps a little quicker than I should have, and shook it.

I didn’t know much about the formalities required when speaking to a general, but I’d seen enough movies to know that I needed to end every sentence with a ‘sir’. “Glad to be here, sir,” I said.

“Quite a grip you’ve got there,” he said, lacking the smile I thought should have come with a statement of that nature. He let go of my claws and returned to his chair. “Have a seat. This shouldn’t take terribly long.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. I took my seat carefully, trying to keep my posture from looking too relaxed. The General’s gaze was calculating and piercing; I could feel him analyzing every move I made and didn’t make, which left me a nervous wreck. His face remained painfully neutral and flat, which gave me no clues on how I was doing.

General Seaspray reached down into one of his desk drawers and produced a thin folder, dropping it on the table between us with a brazen slap. He opened it up and pulled out the first few pages, pausing to put his glasses on before he read. “Right, then. Gallus the Griffon, resident of Griffonstone. You want to be a part of my Navy.”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

General Seaspray hummed. “Fascinating,” he said.

Of all the responses I could have expected from him, that one wasn’t high on the list. “Sir?”

He didn’t acknowledge my confusion. “I can’t say that I’ve ever seen a griffon apply to join my ranks. If I may ask, what led you here? To this job, of all things?”

“If I’m being totally honest, it wasn’t my idea,” I said. Seaspray cocked an eyebrow. “Sir,” I added.

“You’re not a part of my Navy just yet. You can leave off the ‘sir’,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said. “It wasn’t entirely my idea. My friend Silverstream…”

“Silverstream brought you here?” he asked, turning his attention to the paper that I assumed held some sort of application form. “That explains a lot of things. I thought I recognized you from somewhere. You go to Equestria’s Friendship School with her, don’t you?”

“Yes, that’s me."

Seaspray nodded, but the lack of a smile on his face wasn’t encouraging. “Now I know why they sent you to me instead of the recruiter downstairs. I knew this had royal claw marks all over it the moment it landed on my desk.” He didn’t seem to be speaking to me in particular, but his eyes stayed locked on me.

I wanted to hide.

I breathed a sigh of relief in my head when he took his stare off of me and returned his attention to the papers on the desk. He removed the others from the folder and read through them, leaving a heavily pregnant silence in the room for several agonizing minutes. With every tick of the clock that I was now acutely aware of on the wall behind me, I felt my hopes wither.

It wasn’t going to work out. Maybe I could spend a few days here with Silverstream, but unless her family was going to pay the rent on my apartment, I’d have to go back to Griffonstone.

Or maybe I could rough it out here? Find some odd jobs, maybe go out in the wilderness and spend my summer foraging? I’d done worse before.

“Alright, Gallus, here’s what we have,” said Seaspray, pulling me from my thoughts. “This is very peculiar. According to this, the royal family has ordered me to provide you with a temporary job for the summer. Not much else here, other than some background information and a temporary work permit authorized by your guardian, one Grandpa Gruff. Swell name.”

I held my breath.

Seaspray removed his glasses and placed them carefully on the desk. “I can’t say I’ve ever had this happen before in my twenty years as a general, so you’re going to have to bear with me.” He paused briefly and leafed through the papers again. “I suppose we can start with you telling me a little about yourself in your own words.”

“Alright,” I said, letting my breath out. Apparently, his wings were tied into giving me a job, and I felt my nerves calm. Now it was just an interview, and one with a guaranteed position at the end of it. I decided to go with the abridged version. “I’m not super interesting, really. I grew up in Griffonstone, it was alright, and then last year I got sent to school in Equestria. I made some friends, and life is pretty good now.”

Seaspray frowned and shook his head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to give interviews, so I must be a little rusty. Let me be more specific. I have all the details I need of your history right here, but I need to know how you see yourself. What kind of griffon are you? Why do you think you’ll be a good sailor?”

“Ah, okay.” I mulled it over in my head for a moment. “I guess I’m just… chill. I’m good with just about anything, I’m a pretty quick learner, I can handle myself in a fight, and I like green. Being a sailor is probably not much different than any other job, once I get trained for it. I know how to work hard, and I work well with others. Anything else, I can learn along the way.”

Seaspray wrote something quickly on the bottom of my file. “Good enough,” he said, flipping the folder closed. “Let’s move on. I assume you’ve taken a fitness assessment?”

I shook my head, and Seaspray scowled. “I swear, I’ve never seen a more disorganized…” he muttered, cutting his sentence short. “That is the first thing you’ll do when you leave here.” He took out a notepad and hastily scrawled something across it, tore the page off, and slid it across the desk to me. “Take that to the medical department. The secretary who led you in will tell you where to go.”

“So, is that it?” I asked.

“Almost. I still haven’t quite figured out what to do with you.” He stood and went to a file cabinet on the wall to my left, pulling out the top drawer and another file, this one stuffed to the brim, unlike mine. He skimmed through several pages, leaving me with a little more time to think.

I didn’t like this. Seaspray was obviously very unprepared, and even more obviously wasn’t happy about it. I felt unwelcome sitting in that chair, like an intruder that someone had dumped in his lap. Looking at it from this perspective, I could see exactly why. A General of the Hippogriff Navy was being forced to play along with Silverstream’s harebrained scheme, which she had somehow gotten the Queen to go along with. Of course it was going to ruffle some feathers.

Finally, he looked up to me. “Here we are. We have an opening in the shipyard right now. You’ll be part of the crew that helps outfit our ships for their patrols. Loading supplies, all that manner of thing. It doesn’t require much in the way of training, and it won’t land you in any real danger. The last thing I need right now is an international incident if you get hurt out there.”

“So I won’t get to go out on the boats?” I asked.

Seaspray deadpanned. “You can turn it down if you’d like.”

I got the message loud and clear. “I’ll take it.”

“Good,” he grumbled. “Go down to medical and get yourself evaluated. If you pass, you start at seven o’clock tomorrow morning, sharp.”

“Thank you,” I said, rising to leave.

“The sir is mandatory now.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, saluting him in what I assumed was the proper form.

Apparently, it wasn’t. He snapped a rigid, straight-backed salute to me. “You have much to learn, recruit.” He said my new title with a thinly veiled sneer. “Dismissed.”

I power walked out of the room as fast as I could.

My physical evaluation went smoothly. I tried to keep myself in adequate shape on my own, so they deemed me fit for service, though the hippogriff who did the evaluation recommended that I start a regimen of exercises to bring myself up to the Navy’s standards. She gave me some information on what to incorporate into my workouts and sent me on my way.

It was mid-afternoon when I stepped out of headquarters, a new job under my belt and a sense of dread in my gut. I knew when I wasn’t wanted, and Seaspray had made it abundantly clear that he was unhappy about my presence. If the whole summer was going to be like that, I wasn’t quite sure that it was worth it.

Heck, I bet this arrangement isn’t binding. I could probably walk up to him and say I want out any time, and he’d instantly take me up on the offer. It would have made a lot of things easier for a lot of griffs if I hit the eject button, but that train of thought derailed when I thought of Silverstream. She stuck her neck out and jumped through a lot of hoops to get me here. If I screwed it up, it’d probably look worse for her than it would for me.

And so my mind was made up. I was sticking with it, for better or worse. I walked along the beach with a bit of pride draped over that hollow feeling of dread. I was now a navy griffon. Regardless of my rank, something felt official about that: something honorable.

A hippogriff soared over my head out to the water, and when he was about five feet above the surface, a swirling flash of light consumed his arms and legs, replacing them with a fish tail and fins. He let out a whoop and plummeted the remaining distance until it culminated in a thunderous splash.

I laughed. Being able to breathe underwater looked fun. I hoped Silverstream would take me down there soon.

Realization dawned on me. “Crap,” I muttered. Silverstream hadn’t told me where to find her when I got done. I didn’t know where she lived, and I didn’t know where to find someone who did. I didn’t have any money on me, and I was on my own with an empty stomach. I clicked my beak and kicked a pebble, launching it into the water a few feet away. “Now what do I do?”

I spent the next several hours looking for an answer to that question. I started off trying and failing miserably to skip rocks at the beach, but quickly grew bored and decided to try exploring the town a bit.

I only succeeded in getting myself lost several times. I started in the lower city, but most of that was devoted to retail space, so I flew up to the top of the mountain. It certainly looked a lot smaller from far away. Up close, the city at the top of the mountain sprawled out in a complex, seemingly chaotic tangle of buildings and roads, and I got lost in it almost as soon as I landed. I wandered on unfamiliar streets for the better part of half an hour before I aborted the mission, taking to the air to reset. I flew out from the mountain a bit, trying to retrace the path Silverstream had taken me on that morning. It took me several tries before I found the right market square to land in, but once I had that tiny bit of familiar space, I made my way to the apartment in short order.

Scatterbrained as she was, at least Silverstream had remembered to give me a key to the place. Since I’d been operating near sensory overload all day long, I thanked my lucky stars that she had remembered; I doubt I would have thought to ask. I pushed the key into the lock and turned it.

Lo and behold, the door was already unlocked. I need to go stare at the ceiling for a while, I thought as I stepped into the den. The lights were on, and there in the kitchen, holding a bowl of cereal and staring at me with wide eyes was a hippogriff with golden-yellow feathers and a pale red mane and tail.

He continued chewing and waved his free claw at me. “Sup,” he said, beak still partly full.

“Hey,” I said, closing the door behind myself.

The hippogriff swallowed. “You the new tenant?”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Sweet,” he said, taking another bite. “I heard I was getting a new roommate but I didn’t figure you’d be here this fast.”

“I didn’t either,”’ I said, which earned a smile from my new roommate. He set his bowl down on the counter and crossed the room towards me. “You’re Typhoon Swirl, right?”

“Yep, call me Ty,” he said, offering me a clawshake.

“Gallus.”

“Right on,” Ty said. “Can’t say I expected a griffon when they told me about a new tenant. You new in town?”

“Yep, brand new,” I said. “Just got off the train this morning.”

“Gotcha.” Ty motioned for me to come with, and I followed him to the kitchen. “You hungry?”

“I haven’t had anything today. I’m stuffed,” I said.

Ty smiled at my snark, gave me a nod, and pointed to the cereal box he had sitting on the cabinet. “Then you, my friend, are in for a treat. Cinnamon Blasted Oat Munch, the breakfast of the gods. For dinner.” He produced a bowl for me and filled it, the flakes and clusters of cereal ringing against the porcelain bowl. I took the bowl and went to take a bite, but he stopped me. “Bro, you’re not going to eat it dry, are you?”

“I’m not much of a dairy guy,” I said. I had to admit, milk tasted great, but I wasn’t a fan of the after effects it had on my stomach. Lactose intolerance was pretty much universal among griffons.

“Fair enough,” said Ty, leaving me to eat. This still counted as pony food, or at least it fit with the universally vegetarian diet of Equestria, so I wasn’t super enthusiastic to try it. When I took a bite, I was only slightly impressed. The cinnamon was good, but it didn’t mask the blandness of the cereal it was on.

“Well?” said Ty.

“It’s good,” I lied. As unenthused as I was, it was still food, and my stomach screamed for more. I took to shoveling it in as fast as I could, just to get my hunger sated.

“Few can resist the charms of cinnamon sugar,” said Ty. “So, what brings a griffon like you out to Mount Aris? I can’t say I’ve ever seen but one or two, and they were just tourists.”

“Yeah, griffons don’t get out much.” From what I remembered of the few history lessons I’d had in school, the Griffon Empire had only opened its borders to outsiders in the last decade or so, and there hadn’t been a lot of traffic across them since then. “I’m here to take a job for the summer.”

“Mm, whatcha doing?”

“I joined the Navy,” I said.

For some reason, Ty pumped a fist in the air, his mouthful of cinnamon oats the only thing keeping him from shouting. He held up a finger while he finished chewing, and as soon as he swallowed, he said, “Dude, welcome to the family! Have you gotten a job assignment yet?”

“I’m working in the shipyard. Resupply or something like that.”

“Respectable,” said Ty. “I’ll probably be seeing you there tomorrow. My ship is about ready to come in for service.”

“You’re a sailor?”

“Yep, first mate on the Eidothea.”

I hummed. “That’s cool. What are the odds we’d be rooming together, both of us being in the Navy?”

“Pretty good, honestly,” Ty said. “A lot of the sailors live in apartments up here. Seems like every other week, someone puts up a request for roommates on our bulletin board.”

“How many other sailors are there?” I asked.

“About two thousand of us stationed here at any given time. We’ve got several bases spread out around the South Sea, though. This one here is the main one.”

I nodded and finished the last of my cereal. My stomach still felt half-empty, but at least the cinnamon crunch stuff took the edge off.

“Wait a second. Did you say you were here just for the summer?” Ty asked.

“Uh-huh, through the middle of August.” I could sense where his next question was heading, so I continued, “It’s a weird arrangement, or so I’m told. General Seaspray wasn’t too happy about it.”

“I didn’t realize we did temporary positions. That’s weird.”

I chuckled. “I don’t think they did until today.”

Ty laughed and took my bowl over to the sink to wash it. “Alright, so I guess let’s get the ground rules out of the way. I don’t ask for much, but there’s a couple of things I can’t let you get away with. First off, washcloths do not stay in the shower when you’re done with them, and dishes in the sink are a no-no. Otherwise, the place is yours, you can go as crazy as you want without getting yourself or me evicted.”

“Sounds fair to me,” I said.

“Anything you want to add for me?”

I didn’t really have a response to his question. I could count on one claw the number of times I’d lived with anyone else, so I wasn’t sure what sort of rules I’d want. I hadn’t ever thought of it. “I’ll let you know if anything bugs me,” I said. “Changing the subject, I don’t want to be a mooch, but do you have anything else to eat around here? I haven’t had the chance to get groceries and I’m broke.”

“I may or may not, depending on various circumstances,” he said, sauntering over toward the fridge. “What do you have in mind?”

“Anything with meat in it?”

“I got you,” Ty said, pulling the fridge open. He pulled a plastic container out and offered it to me. “I made some salmon last night. You’re welcome to the leftovers.”

I took the container and looked down at what was the first cut of meat I’d seen in weeks. It was just food, but for some reason, this was the thing that made me want to break down crying. An entire day of hunger and confusion culminated in this moment. “Thank you,” I said, my voice quavering a bit. “I’ve had a really crazy day; would you be upset if I took this up to my room and locked myself in there for a while?"

Ty shook his head. “Nah, do what you gotta do. I was about to head up to my room too when you came in, anyway.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” he said. I took the container and climbed up the hallway, slipping into my room like a hamster scurrying up its tube. Because of the small, round-ish entrance, the door looked like a hatch. I swung it closed and looked around the room. I could tell it was evening from the amount of ambient light, but the translucent panels didn’t give any details on the specific time. I took my fish and sat down on my new bed, which creaked softly as it assumed my weight.

I lay back on the bare mattress, stared up at the translucent blue ceiling above me, and smiled. It had been one heck of a day, only the first of what would surely be many to come, but I was here, and that was alright by me.

Chapter 3: Trash Boat

View Online

“Thanks!” I called after the receptionist as he walked away from me. “Jerk,” I muttered under my breath.

When I showed up at headquarters that morning, the front desk receptionist—a different one from the day before—had me sign a few forms and then led me out to the docks. They were around the backside of the mountain, and as soon as we came into view of them, he immediately hung me out to dry. I hadn’t been told where to go or what to do, and I guessed it was up to me to figure it out.

I flipped my wings out and took to the air, coasting down from the overlook I was standing on to the docks below. They were smaller than I expected; a series of five piers, three wooden up front and two concrete behind them, ran parallel out into the water a short distance, long enough to stack four ships end-to-end along each one. The concrete ones were most interesting, as they also extended back into the face of the cliff in what looked like a large tunnel.

I touched down at the base of the first pier and scanned around for anyone who could tell me what I needed to do. The receptionist hadn’t even given me the time of day, let alone instructions on what to do. A few hippogriffs were milling around the docks, some carrying tools and wearing sailor’s uniforms that I recognized from my time in the headquarters building. I took a few steps out into the building and turned in place, unsure of what to do with myself. A yellow griff with an oversized wrench was walking in my general direction, so I flagged her down.

“Excuse me,” I called, waving at her. “It’s my first day and nogriff told me where I’m supposed to go.” I punctuated my sentence with a shrug.

She gave me a knowing smile and pointed me toward the tunnel at the far end. “New recruits usually go to the lieutenant. His office is back there in the hole, big white door in the center. You can’t miss it.”

After the receptionist’s icy attitude, she was a welcome breath of fresh air. I thanked her and took off in the direction she’d pointed me.

“Good luck!” she called after me.

When I got to the hole, I got my answer as to what was inside it. The two bays that ran into it had floodgates in them, holding the sea back and forming a dry dock, where a ship was under construction in each bay. The hole didn’t go very far into the cliffside, only a little further than the length of one ship. Sure enough, there was a white door on the far wall, and I made my way towards it. A placard next to it read “Lieutenant Cedar Breeze, Chief Engineer.”

Was I getting put to work building ships?

It came as a small surprise when I knocked on the white door and it turned out to be made of metal, ringing loudly under my talons. I heard a muffled “Come in!” so I pulled the handle and let myself in.

The space behind the door was cramped, a little nook chiseled out of the stone just large enough to put an office in. The door opened to a small entryway on the furthest left side of the room, the office itself extending off to the right. Crystal magic-powered lights hung overhead, bathing the space in a bright blue-white glow.

“New recruit reporting for duty, sir,” I said as I stepped in, snapping a two-finger salute against my forehead the same way Seaspray had done when I’d left his office yesterday.

“At ease,” said Cedar Breeze, his tone dismissively casual. His bristly mane was dark and clipped short, and his plumage light blue. He was seated in front of a large wooden desk that shouldn’t have been able to fit into such a narrow space. Atop that desk were stacks of papers, tools, and blueprints strewn haphazardly about. Shelves on the far wall were piled high with junk, allowing just enough space for his chair.

He was in the middle of working on a blueprint, hunched over it in absolute concentration, measuring and drawing with a white pencil. He kept working for a few seconds, ignoring me while he focused. “So, you’re the griffon they sent me?” he asked, not looking in my direction. His voice was gravelly, like he spent a lot of his time yelling.

“Yes, sir.”

Cedar Breeze hummed, pushing his chair back and bumping into the shelf behind him as he stood up. When he first laid eyes on me, he raised his eyebrows. “Huh, they weren't plucking my feathers. You really are a griffon.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just blinked.

“You ever worked on a dock before?”

I shook my head. “No, sir.”

Cedar Breeze chuckled. “Thought not. You griffons never were much for sailing,” he said, pushing past me. “Come with me, I’ll show you your post.”

We left the office and walked out into the cavernous space under the mountain. “This is the dry dock, where we build our ships.” Down in the pit below us, the wooden skeleton of a ship was in the process of being assembled by a small crew of workers. The bay further to the left had a much larger ship in it, apparently almost ready to launch. I looked toward the massive steel floodgates that kept the sea out of the dry docks, and I decided that when they launched that new ship, I wanted to be there to see the gates open. The water rushing in was probably pretty cool to watch.

“You won’t be worrying about any of this stuff here, though,” said Cedar Breeze, pulling me from my thoughts as he led me out of the hole.

Ok, so I wasn’t building boats. A bit of a bummer, but there were plenty of other things to do around here. We continued out along the first concrete pier, seemingly heading for the end of it. A very conveniently placed rock out in the harbor provided a bit of shade thanks to the low angle of the sun, but it wouldn’t last for long—I could already feel it getting hotter, but I ignored that; if I wanted to be here, I’d just have to get used to it.

“We usually reserve the spots right in front of the dry dock for ships that are being outfitted or that got busted up pretty good. I call it the long-term clinic.” Cedar Breeze gestured to the closest one. I hadn’t cared to look at it when I first arrived, but the boat before me—Kraken's Beak, as the lettering said—was just as he put it: busted up pretty good. I could see the jagged stump in the center where the main mast had once been, and the whole thing was covered in seaweed and other little bits of debris that could have only come from the bottom of the sea.

“What sank this one, sir?” I asked.

“She got caught out in a squall and blew into some rocks. Spent about a month at the bottom before we found her and raised her back up.” Cedar Breeze pointed me toward the front of the ship, where a dock worker suspended by ropes was hammering on fresh-looking planks, probably a patch for one of the holes that sunk the ship.

“I bet it helps to have seaponies who can do the searching underwater,” I speculated.

“Aye, it does.”

We continued on our way. All things considered, the docks were smaller than I’d expected them to be. Two more ships were lined up ahead of us on the left, and an identical row sat on the right, all in better shape than the Kraken’s Beak. In the bay on the right, a crew was navigating a smaller ship down the center space, headed out of the docks.

We stopped at the next ship on the left. This one, the Summation, appeared fit for service and well-maintained, though it was considerably smaller than the Kraken's Beak—about two-thirds the size of the former. I knew there were terms for the different sizes of a ship, but now that I was here, I realized I had no idea what they were.

“This here is where you’ll be working.” Cedar Breeze strolled up a wooden ramp to the ship’s deck. I followed suit. “Resupply and light maintenance: getting these gals ready to go back out to sea.” A few other hippogriffs in the standard navy uniform were milling about the deck, each with some sort of implement in claw. One had a mop, another was carrying a crate toward the door to the bridge—that was one term I did know.

“It’s real simple. The supplies are all assembled by another crew, your team just cleans up the ship and loads up the supplies. You’re gonna be working below deck, so you won’t be out in the sun all day. I know you griffons don’t do so well in the heat, so I think this is gonna be perfect for you.” He gestured for me to follow again, and we went towards the door at the bridge.

How do you know so much about griffons? I thought I was the only one here. He hadn’t said anything bad, but saying I couldn’t handle heat well was probably born out of a stereotype more than understanding.

I decided not to bring it up, though, and instead focused more on the job. Working in the cargo hold wasn’t what I’d expected, but hey, it didn’t sound too bad. Probably a lot of heavy lifting, long hours, and repetitiveness, but I’d probably have some other crew members to talk with while I was here.

The door at the rear of the ship opened into the ship’s kitchen, a fairly small room with some appliances and tables for the crew. Cedar led us down a staircase to the left, taking us deeper below decks. At the bottom of the stairs was the cargo hold, a large, open space that ran the length of the ship. I assumed this space would be mostly filled by the time the boat was ready to head back out to sea, but I could see from one end to the other with no obstructions. On either side of the ship were rows of cannons, though not too many with this boat—maybe five to a side. Enough to mount a defense, but this ship didn’t look like it was meant for attacking.

The cannons were cool. I was hoping I’d get directed toward those, but instead, we turned for the rear of the ship. In the far corner sat a large metal box with an open top, and as we approached it, I could see and smell exactly what it was.

A dumpster.

“This here is your main responsibility,” Cedar announced. “Every ship that comes in will have at least one of these, usually on the port side. Your job is to grab a cart and empty it out. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours per bin. You can lift your carts in and out with a rope at the cargo hatch. You’ll get assigned a certain number of bins every day. If you finish early, you find somewhere to help out. Everything else, you’ll learn as you go. Any questions?”

“So... I’m a janitor?”

“It doesn’t sound so nice when you put it like that,” Cedar said, scratching at the back of his head. Then he shrugged, “But yeah, pretty much. There’s a door right next to my office; that’s the equipment room. Go get yourself a uniform and a cart from there. If you have any more questions, you know where to find me.”

He left me standing there in the cargo hold, staring at the mound of trash in that dumpster. I blinked a few times while the sinking feeling in my gut grew stronger.

I had joined the Navy—signed up to be a part of something cool, something worthwhile. And where did I get sent as soon as I got here?

It just freaking figured. Sure, recruit the griffon and stick him with the lowest job you can find. I stood there, staring at that damned metal box for a minute longer, growing angrier and angrier by the second. Could I raise a stink over it? Maybe. I could go off about how I was being forced into the worst job in the harbor because I was a griffon, play the species card, and possibly get moved up to something a little nicer at best.

But that would come at the cost of my reputation. I didn’t know anyone here yet besides Silverstream and maybe Ty. Without friends to back me up, I wouldn’t have any support if I decided to try complaining my way out of this.

No, if I wanted to be here, this was what I had to do. My anger tasted bitter as I swallowed it. Regardless of how much this utterly sucked, I had a job, and I was going to do it with a smile on my face. I marched myself out of the cargo hold toward the equipment room with my head held high, supported by what little pride in myself I could scrape together, given the circumstances.

I wasn’t going to let this get me down. I was gonna be the best damn janitor the navy had ever seen.

It was Saturday afternoon. I knew better than to bother Queen Novo on Saturday—The Royal Reprieve, as she liked to call it. It was a day she reserved for herself, barring emergencies. In fact, there was an obscure statute written down somewhere in the books that essentially translated to “Don’t bother the Queen on her day off.” I’d found out about it not long after I was promoted to a position where I regularly interfaced with her.

Protocol be damned. She’d already trodden all over it; I was returning the favor.

I swam with purpose as I entered the large underwater chamber that housed Seaquestria, my speed far exceeding the urgency required. Technically, the whole ordeal with the griffon wasn’t an emergency—more of a minor ruffle of the feathers, really—but I had a right to be angry about it.

The entire city hung from the roof of that enormous cavern like a great, pink crystal chandelier. The sprawling clusters of regular houses of common seaponies were suspended closer to the ceiling than the royal palace, which was the largest and lowest-hanging room among them all. I knew she wouldn’t be in the palace proper, instead probably off at the private royal spa adjacent to it.

She’d be cross with me for interrupting her private time, but that was just gravy. I bypassed the grand entrance at the base of the palace and headed for the small annex that was perched along its top. Through the translucent walls, I could see a single silhouette in the pink wall. There she was, totally unsuspecting of the heap of inconvenience I was poised to unload on her.

I smiled to myself as I reached the spa’s entrance. Regardless of how this went, at least the petty side of me would win by default. I ran a flipper across my dorsal fin—it felt odd to say that again; I hadn’t been underwater in a long time—and swam into the room.

The spa was small, but considering it was only ever used by a small claw—fin-full of the most important seaponies down here, it didn’t need to be much larger. Reclined in a tub, head wrapped in seaweed and cucumber slices over her eyes, Queen Novo sat poised like a statue. She seemed expressionless; for all I knew, she could have been asleep. No spa workers were present, so that was one less thing to worry about.

Anyone else entering the Queen’s quarters would have been burdened with a mountain of formalities, but Novo was a practical mare under the motherly exterior. Our relationship was and always had been business-first, and early on, we’d both agreed to forego the ceremony of ‘talking with the Queen’ in the interest of saving time.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat loudly, announcing my presence. Queen Novo causally lifted up one of the cucumber slices with disdain, but quickly exchanged the look for a warmer, more diplomatic one.

“Seaspray!” she exclaimed, leaning forward and removing the other slice of fruit from her face, waving a fin to the spa chair next to her tub. “Come in, sugar, come in!”

“Queen Novo,” I began as I swam over toward the spa chair, which looked slightly odd to me. I’d been living on land as a hippogriff long enough now that the ergonomics of underwater life had begun looking foreign. The seat was shaped like a curved trough, built to conform to seapony anatomy. I settled into it, and it fit my tail and fins like a glove, even featuring a cutout in the back to keep from crushing my dorsal fin.

“Well?” Queen Novo looked to me expectantly with her deep violet eyes. “How is it?”

“It’s delightful,” I said quickly, putting forth none of the enthusiasm that word required. “Anyway, I—”

“Isn’t it?” She didn't notice my deadpan tone. There was a plate of some sort of kelp dish sitting on the edge of her tub, and her attention was on that instead of me. “Just had it installed last week. I think I’m gonna have them move my throne room in here so I can hold court in that baby.”

I grumbled at her interruption, and knowing her, she’d small-talk me until I forgot why I was here in the first place. I decided to cut to the chase. “Queen Novo, I’m very cross with you.”

She wheeled back toward me, her smile replaced with flat lips pressed together. “The budget was finalized three months ago. If you have complaints, you’d best bring them up when I’m not on my personal time.”

I shook my head, fighting the urge to slap my fin over my face. “You know exactly why I’m here.”

I expected a knowing smile, an admission, maybe even something coy that would play with me and give me the runaround, but instead, Queen Novo blanched at me and shrugged. “I actually don’t.”

My head was about to explode. “The griffon,” I snarled.

Novo’s eyes widened, a smile crossing her muzzle again. “Oh!” She threw her head back and laughed. “That. I forgot all about him. How’s he doing? Silverstream was over the moon talking about him.”

My eye twitched. I’d come here puffed up, ready to lay into her for stepping all over my authority, and she had the audacity to not even remember what she’d done. Every fiber of my soul wanted to fly off the handle and scream, but I knew better. Regardless of our less-formal arrangement, I was still speaking with the Queen herself. I needed to rein in my emotions and keep myself respectful.

It was a good thing I was a General. Had I held nearly any other position, I likely wouldn’t have had enough self-control drilled into me to keep myself in check. I took a deep breath and swallowed the knot of rage building in my throat, but my eye twitched again—something told me that was going to be a recurring theme during this conversation.

“I don’t think you appreciate the magnitude of what you’ve done.”

“Apparently I don’t.” Novo angled her head. “What’s wrong with him?”

“What isn’t wrong with him?” I growled. “He’s—”

A realization crossed her face. “Ohhh, I get it.” She shook her head slowly, eyeing me with disdain. “General Seaspray, I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Discriminating against that boy just because he’s a griffon. I thought we were past th—”

Something snapped. My vision went red, and I leapt out of my seat. “DAMN IT ALL, WILL YOU LET ME SPEAK?! THIS ISN’T ABOUT HIS SPECIES!”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Queen Novo was taken aback; I could see the first hints of anger crossing her features already. I didn’t care. I was in deep now; may as well make it worthwhile. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done by forcibly inserting this griffon into our ranks? Any inkling of the implications?”

“I did you a favor?”

“If you call sidestepping proper procedure in the name of nepotism ‘a favor’, then we’re obviously from different ends of the planet.”

“I think it’s well within the bounds of my power to do that. I’m the Queen here, remember?”

I took a breath and let it out slowly. I’d used up all of the runway I had with that outburst, so there was no more room to be angry. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.” Her expression soured and she opened her mouth, no doubt to flex her authority on me. I needed to stay on top of the conversation to keep it from grinding to a halt.

I held a fin up, stopping her. “Before you yell at me about insubordination and send me away, hear me out. I fear that hiring the griffon may have set a bad precedent for our Navy. We have rules for a reason, and they are made to be followed. We have a carefully structured process for bringing in recruits. We scrutinize them to make sure that they’re fit to serve before we even send them to training, and they aren’t given positions until they have completed their training.

“I have a group of recruiters whose entire jobs revolve around that. They take care of that work so those higher up—” I gestured between the two of us “—can worry about bigger, more important problems. The South Sea Rulers’ Summit is coming up next month, and you should be worrying about that more than some griffon who needs a job. I’ve got reports of renewed pirate activity near Greenfin Island to worry about. Neither of us has time for this kind of thing.”

“Is that all?” she asked.

“Not quite. There’s also the question of his citizenship. I saw in the paperwork that he is being hired as a quote-unquote ‘mercenary’, but who’s to say that if something happens to him that the Griffon Empire won’t take issue? That’s a foreign relations mess we don’t need.”

I paused to let my brain catch up to my mouth, and then made my final approach. “There’s an old saying: ‘Leave the crumbs for the mouse.’ This whole issue is something we shouldn’t even be bothering ourselves with. There is too much important business to attend to for us to get caught up in a recruitment issue. I hope this sort of thing doesn’t come up again in the future, but I want you to consider that your actions have consequences. Consult me before you go meddling in the Navy’s business.”

“Are you finished?”

“Yes,” I said, floating back down toward the chair. Gauging from her response, I’d done nothing productive by shouting, but at least I felt better.

“I see your point. There’s a lot of considerations that go into something like this, and I apologize for not telling you about my plans first. But…” Novo paused to flash a smug, self-assured smile. “I got two words for you, Sea-Bee: Rock. Hoof.”

There it was.

“I remember you decided—on your own—to allow an Equestrian into the navy with no questions asked. I think you actually gave him a ranking position on the ship with no training, no worries about his citizenship status.” She paused, letting it percolate for a moment before she went in for the kill. “And what happened?”

“Th-that is precisely the thing I’m trying to avoid,” I stammered, knowing that I’d been had.

It was a flimsy defense. “The ship sank about ten minutes after you brought him on,” she said, twisting the knife like she hadn’t even heard me. “Don’t give me that ‘concerned about the state of affairs’ crap. You and I both know that something as small and insignificant as bringing one recruit in for three months will mean nothing in the long run. You came down here and barged in on my private time because you got your claws stepped on, and it’s got you steamed.”

I wanted to squirm in my seat but kept my posture rigid. Emotionless.

“Now,” she continued. “I could stoop down and be just as petty as you. Maybe, I dunno, throw out a formal reprimand, trim back some of the excess funds I’ve personally awarded to the Navy this year.”

A lump formed in my throat, but swallowing it would show a crack in the poker face.

Novo shrugged. “But I’ll be the bigger fish here. When Silverstream came and begged me to give that griffon a job, I almost told her no. She’s my niece, I want her to be happy, but there was a lot she didn’t think about. However, I realized the potential benefit hiring the griffon could give us.”

“Benefit? How could something this ‘small and insignificant’, as you put it, possibly benefit us?”

The queen smirked. “PR.”

I cocked an eyebrow.

“As I’m sure you know, the Griffon Empire has been opening trade agreements for the first time in decades. Adding a griffon to our ranks could be an opportunity to open a dialogue between our nations. We are providing valuable employment and education to a young, orphaned griffon who hasn’t ever been given a fair shake. What about that doesn’t sound like the press is gonna eat it up?”

That was a point I had to concede, but I didn’t want to afford her the satisfaction. My face stayed flat.

“Honestly, I would have expected a tactician like you to see that angle,” said Novo. “It’s going to be a little tough in the short term, but it’s going to benefit us in the long run. The griffons have a lot of coal and gold that I want for Mount Aris and Seaquestria, and this could give us a fin up on the competition. Hearts and minds, Seaspray.”

I grumbled and nodded. “And what of the rules? Are you going to step all over my work every time it’s convenient for you?”

With a chuckle, Novo waved me off with a fin, picking her cucumber slices up from the edge of the tub. “If it means that much to you, I’ll talk to you before I mess with the Navy. Alright?”

“I hope so,” I groused, leaving my seat. I heard her laughing to herself as I swam out of the spa. I’d had enough of being underwater already, and I headed straight to the surface. My pride was bruised, but hopefully, it had been worthwhile if it meant she’d stay out of Navy business.

At any rate, I needed a drink.

The oil lamp sitting on my desk was the only source of light in the room, and for that matter, it barely put out enough light to be useful for anything past decoration. I sighed to myself, some part of me wishing I’d sprung for one of those enchanted crystal ones that ran on magic. They cost a lot more, but they lasted pretty much forever—until they were broken somehow. That last part was what scared me about them. On a ship, nothing was ever certain, and the last thing I needed was an arcane detonation in the wheelhouse because we hit rough seas and my lamp fell over.

It would definitely make writing my midnight logs easier with more light, but the old, battered oil lamp was reliable. It’d come with the ship when I first became captain of the Deliverance nearly twenty years ago, and it had served me well. In fact, it was the only thing older than me on board.

Just as I’d written thousands of voyage logs over my years, I put the finishing touches on the official record of another quiet day on the South Sea. Nothing out of the ordinary; we’d traveled nearly three hundred miles that day thanks to fair winds and gentle waters. We were about fifty miles off Greenfin Island now, and tomorrow, we’d hopefully reach Mount Aris before sunset. It would be nice to finish our voyage on a Friday, giving us the weekend off before we set out again. The crew would surely appreciate that.

Personally, I was just ready to see dry land again. We’d been on the water for two weeks, carrying a load of grain from Zebrica, my homeland. Nothing exciting or out of the ordinary, not even an interesting load to think about. It was just another trip, passing the same old landmarks I’d seen a thousand times with nothing of note to break the monotony.

I leaned back in my chair and sighed, dropping my quill in its inkwell. I supposed I should have been thankful for things being so quiet. It had been barely two years since I’d been freed from running shipments for the Storm King’s army, my forced conscription into his service having lasted for over a decade. It was horrible, working under constant fear like that, but I missed the excitement that came with it. It seemed like every voyage was a different adventure back then, some unknown thing always occurring as a result of the madness this part of the world was then under.

I didn’t miss those days, to be sure, but a little intrigue would have been welcome. I still wasn’t used to the quiet.

I rose from the chair, my old bones protesting as I came up to full height. It was bedtime now that all of my duties had been accomplished. I picked up my lamp and left the bridge, stepping out into the nighttime air. Early summer nights had long been my favorite for how comfortable and calm they were. All around the ship, the sea was an endless field of sparkling diamonds in the night, moonlight shimmering off of the nearly still waters.

A quick stroll around the main deck was in order before I turned in. I needed the fresh air and exercise, anyway.

“You asleep up there, Cris?” I called toward the crow’s nest. The lookout, Crisanti, was a relatively new addition to the crew, having signed on while we were in port in Ornithia, the parrot nation to the west of the hippogriffs, over the winter.

“Not until you are, Zalo,” he said, peering down toward me over the rim of his post.

I chuckled. This had become a bit of a tradition over the last few months, the two of us exchanging a round or two of banter before I turned in for the evening. I usually tried to keep things professional among the crew, but I’d taken a bit of a shine to the kid since he joined. He reminded me of my son, cocky and confident as he was.

“Any icebergs tonight?” I asked.

“None so far,” said Cris.

“Good. Make sure you stay alert. They can sneak up on you when the water is this glassy.”

“If I see one, I’ll be sure to come wake you up personally.”

“And that’ll be the last thing you do before I throw you overboard.”

“Parrots can fly, you know.”

“Not with wet feathers.”

“...Touché.”

We shared a short laugh, and I started forward on my walk, headed for the bow. I noted a few ropes out of place, left loose on the deck. I’d have a word with the likely culprit tomorrow, but for now, they’d be fine as they lay. I started making my way back toward the bridge, and I got about halfway across the deck before Cris spoke up again.

“Captain,” he beckoned, words clipped with urgency.

“Iceberg?”

“Ship.”

I quirked an eyebrow up at him. “That’s… normal? We’re not the only ones sailing out here.”

“No, it’s close.” Cris pointed toward the starboard bow, and I followed his mark out to a single dot of light that was, sure enough, maybe a half-mile out.

“Was that there a minute ago?”

“No. It just popped up.”

“Toss me a glass,” I ordered. He dropped one down, and I caught it carefully in my hooves. I pulled the telescope out to full length and took a look.

As described, there was a lamp out there. I couldn’t make out much detail even with the spyglass, but I could instantly tell there was something missing. At this distance, even at night, a ship’s sails should have been obvious in the moonlight, standing out against the darkness of the water.

This ship’s sails were black.

I felt a knot tighten in my gut, and I closed the spyglass. “Mungu tusaidie,” I muttered to myself in my native tongue. “Get below deck, wake the crew. They’re heading right for us.”

“On it.” Cris leaped down from the crow’s nest and glided for the hatch, disappearing inside well before I managed to get back up to the bridge.

I climbed the ladder as swiftly as my old, mildly stiff legs would take me. I burst into the wheelhouse, where the first mate, a hippogriff named Emerald Green, was at the wheel.

“Em, take us hard to port,” I said, closing the door behind myself. I doused my lamp and placed it carefully next to the door.

She complied with my command before she asked, “What’s up? Icebergs?”

“Ship off the starboard bow. Pirates.”

Em nodded and continued the turn while I went about putting out the lamps in the room. I’d dealt with pirates before, and I knew it was pointless to try this. Killing our lights would do little to improve our odds of escape at this point, but it made me feel a little better.

I stepped back out onto the deck and took another look through the spyglass. Sure enough, the ship was getting closer. I could see more lights on it by now, the ship’s profile a small black dot in the middle of a bright reflection on the water’s surface.

The hatch to the lower decks swung open, and one by one, the crew filed out, Cris leading the way. A couple of zebras like me, another parrot, and two Abyssinian cats. Each ran to take their place at one of the ropes. If the sails caught the wind just right, we could increase our speed. Escape was nearly impossible, but we could at least delay them.

I knew we were going to have a meeting shortly, but it couldn’t hurt to try. The sails turned, grasping at what little breeze there was that night. It was enough that the Deliverance lurched faintly as it caught more air and picked up some speed.

That lantern grew brighter and larger, though it was an agonizingly slow chase given the lack of winds. It took nearly ten more minutes before the pirates were directly off the starboard side, beginning their turn to approach alongside of us.

“Steady as she goes,” I announced, though the assurances probably rang as hollow in my crew’s ears as they did in my throat. At least we’d made it slightly harder for the pirates to board us, but our efforts were meaningless in the long run.

“Incoming!” shouted Cris. Against the backdrop of the stars, I could see three dark figures soaring toward us. They landed on the roof of the bridge with heavy thunks: one, two, three. Three parrots, two of fairly large builds compared to Cris, stood atop the wheelhouse near the mizzenmast, overlooking everyone on the main deck.

“Evening,” said the smaller one in the center, the leader most likely. His voice was calm, almost bordering on friendly, but I could sense the venom lurking under the surface.

“State your business!” I shouted up at them, holding my lantern higher.

“Not wasting any time, are we?” said the parrot leader. “I am Captain Sternclaw of the ship Green Haze. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” I said, keeping my tone as nonchalant as I could.

“It will soon enough. I take it you’re the captain?”

I nodded slowly.

“I’m taking over this ship and all of the cargo she holds. You can surrender peacefully, and you have my assurances that you won’t be harmed.”

“And if we don’t?”

“You don’t want me to answer that question.” Sternclaw hopped down from the bridge onto the deck, followed by his henchbirds. He stood a head taller than me, though he was scrawny. I couldn’t make out what color he was in the darkness, but the orange of his eyes stood out: piercing and fearless, like he was poised to strike at any moment.

“So! How about it then?” he asked, his tone sounding off—far too chipper for how mean his face looked up close.

I took a glance over my shoulder at my crew, who all stood behind me, ready to back me up. I knew a couple of them had swords, though I didn’t have a weapon on hand.

“There’s more of us than you,” said Cris, stepping forward, toward the pirate captain.

“Maybe so, but do you want to take the chance of how many parrots I might have waiting on that ship?”

“Maybe we’ll just take that cha—”

A terrible blast ended Crisanti's sentence early.

The henchbird on the left pulled a flintlock pistol out from his coat, and with no hesitation or warning, shot Cris in the chest. My lookout crumpled to the deck with a gasp, and before I had the chance to react, I heard a click next to my right ear. I stiffened. Sternclaw had a pistol of his own pointed right at my head.

“You went and made me answer that question, Captain. I told you it wouldn’t be good!” He laughed a manic, wheezing laugh that sent chills up my spine. “Now then, I’ll ask again. Do you surrender, or do we have to do this the extra hard way?”

I stole a glance at Cris, who lay on the deck, gasping for breath, and my heart sank. “Yes, we surrender.”

“Good,” Sternclaw said with a disturbingly appreciative smile, but he kept his pistol trained on me. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I drew a shaky breath. “Someone check on Cris. Now,” I ordered and Emerald carefully made her way over to the fallen parrot, keeping her movements slow and careful, making sure not to get herself shot as well.

“A little more business to attend to, then,” Sternclaw continued. “What’s this ship carrying?”

“Zebrican grain, nothing else.”

“Zebrica grows some good oats,” he commented, then looked to the parrot on the right. “Go check below decks, see what they got.”

The henchbird that hadn’t shot my lookout nodded and disappeared down the hatch.

“How’s he doing?” I asked, not daring to move.

“He’s bleeding bad,” said Emerald. I heard a faint whimper from Cris.

“Such is what happens when one gets shot,” said Sternclaw.

His casual manner about gravely wounding someone made me seethe with rage. I shot him a glare. “You are a real piece of shit, you know that?”

That got a laugh from the two pirates on deck. “You’d be surprised how few creatures actually have the gall to say that to me. I admire your courage.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” I spat.

“Indeed.”

“What becomes of us when you’re done?” asked Emerald.

Sternclaw shrugged. “I’d love to bring you all aboard my ship, but I’m afraid there’s just not enough space. Once we get things settled here, you can take those lifeboats and sail wherever your hearts desire.”

“And the kid you just shot?”

“I wish him the best of luck.”

If it hadn’t been for the pistol pointed at my head, I’d have jumped on him and torn him apart by now. He was lanky and thin, clearly not strong enough to take on a zebra one on one, even an older one like me. I heard rummaging from below decks, and the third pirate emerged a moment later.

“Looks like just grain. I grabbed a little from the crew’s quarters, but this thing’s pretty dry.” He held up a necklace that I knew belonged to Emerald, along with a few other items.

“Such a shame, all that for a little jewelry,” said Sternclaw. He picked up my oil lamp from the deck and regarded it for a moment. “You’d better start preparing that lifeboat now.” With a grunt, he hurled the lamp over the side of the ship.

A knot formed in my gut as my lamp sailed out of sight for the last time, but I was more confused than anything. It made no sense to throw a lamp overboard, but before I could question it, I got my answer: It was a signal. Within three seconds, I heard a terrible whistling sound from the starboard side, followed by splintering wood. Water sprayed up from the side of the ship, splattering us all with icy droplets. The report from the cannon on board the Green Haze split the stillness of the night wide open, and then two more cannonballs struck within a second of each other.

“It was a pleasure making your acquaintance. Until next time,” said Sternclaw, spreading his wings and lowering his pistol. He and his henchbirds took off, slipping into the darkness as quickly as they’d come.

By the time they vanished, the Deliverance was already listing to the side, and I barked, “Abandon ship!” The crew scrambled to life, rushing toward the lifeboats. I went the opposite direction, rushing to Cris’s side.

“He’s not going to make it,” said Emerald, her talons soaked in blood.

“Don’t tell me the odds. We have to get him to the lifeboat. Cris, you still with me?”

The parrot groaned weakly, the noise coming out as more of a gurgle.

“Turn around,” I told Emerald, picking Cris up with ginger hooves. His feathers were soaked from the gaping wound in his chest, but I managed to sling him over Emerald’s back without disturbing it too severely.

“Walk slowly,” I ordered, and we made our way toward the lifeboats. They were already prepared by the rest of the crew by the time we reached them. Emerald climbed up and over the side of the ship with care, but every little jostle to Cris tore at my nerves. He was in bad shape, but there was a first aid kit on the lifeboat: possibly just enough to save his life. When Cris was safely laid into the bottom of the lifeboat, I hopped in and began lowering us down to the water while Emerald tended to his wound.

The lifeboats got clear of the sinking Deliverance , and the stricken vessel slipped below the surface a few minutes later. The pirates responsible had long since vanished into the night.

Chapter 4: Ranting and Raving

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Okay, so I wasn’t the best janitor the navy had ever seen.

I groaned as I tried to sit up, my head spinning like a top. It took a few seconds for my faculties to come back to me; when they did, the first thing I realized was that my beak had punched through one of the plastic trash bags. My face sat in the middle of the goopy remains of whatever the sailors on this boat had eaten in the last couple of weeks. I recoiled in disgust, pushing the bag off of myself and springing up with vigor I didn’t know I had, sputtering and wiping at my face to get rid of the smell.

It didn’t work. At least I hadn’t managed to taste anything, but that garbage was ripe. Nothing short of a shower would fully purge the stench from my feathers.

I gagged and shuddered. Regardless of how I smelled, there was a much more serious problem at hand. Before me sat the metal cart I was using to haul the trash out of the ship—overturned, its contents strewn out all across the floor in a pile of white plastic bags and random bits of garbage that managed to escape during the tumble. It was a miracle nogriff had heard it all come crashing down.

Lesson one for the day: hauling a loaded cart of trash up a flight of stairs is a bad idea.

That’s what I got for trying to take a shortcut. Cedar Breeze told me to tie my cart to a rope and lift it out through the cargo hatch. I didn’t want to bother with the ropes, and now I was here.

It only took me a minute or two to turn the cart upright and load everything back into it. With it squared away, I wheeled the cart over to the hatch, which was a square hole in the ceiling of the cargo hold, right in the center of the upper deck. Several ropes hung down through it, and I tied them onto the cart with square knots—the only kind of knot I fully remembered how to tie.

Satisfied with my work, I then realized I wasn’t sure what to do next. I spread my wings and leaped up through the hatch to the main deck. My eyes weren’t ready for the bright sunlight, and I blinked hard while they adjusted.

I traced the path of the ropes; they ran through pulleys suspended from the mast, and then down to eyelets along the edge of the deck. I was hoping there’d be a crank to lift it up and out, but it was just the rope and pulleys on this ship. I was going to have to get this one with some good old-fashioned elbow grease. Great.

It would have been better to have some help for this, but a quick check around reaffirmed that I was on my own. I bowed down, stretching my arms out, and then rocked forward to transfer the stretch to my hind legs. With a shake of my head and a steeling of my will, I was ready for the big lift.

I smiled; even though I was the trash griffon, this job was going to give me one heck of a daily workout. I’d be looking good by the end of the summer. Gotta focus on the positives, I reassured myself.

I grabbed the two ropes and pulled them taut, testing just how much weight there was on the other end. Even with the pulleys adding leverage, there was no give. I’d stacked the cart pretty high, so it was going to be tough, but I’d gotten it up a few of the stairs before I lost control and fell the first time. I knew it was doable, so I braced myself against the ropes, took a breath, and heaved.

Nothing. This thing was apparently heavier than I thought it would be—the type of thing that requires a team lift. I looked around again for another griff, but the deck was empty, and after checking the docks, I found them deserted as well.

I groaned. There was no time to waste on flagging someone down. I wanted to get this done as quickly as possible so I just might get to do something cooler than moving trash by the end of the day. I returned to the ropes and dug myself in, locking my claws against the grain of the wooden deck for better traction, and then lifted. I strained against the ropes, pulling with everything I had.

Sweat poured down my brow. I managed a step forward, and then another.

My arms burned; my claws strained against the weight to keep traction.

Another step. Breaths came in deep, measured gulps through gritted teeth.

Another step; I was nearly halfway there.

And then it all came to an abrupt end.

My hind legs faltered, and I was shoved flat to the deck by the force of the rope as it snapped backward, my cart plummeting into the cargo hold below. I winced at the crash behind me, and at my own incompetence, staying where I was until the metaphorical dust settled. Surely someone had heard and was coming to investigate, and would find me and my embarrassment plain for all to see.

But as the seconds ticked by, I heard nothing more than the standard ambiance: the distant lapping of water against ship hulls and the crashing of waves on the rocks of the shoreline. By the mercy of all the gods above, nobody else was around to watch me make a fool of myself. So, after catching my breath, I slunk over to the cargo hatch and surveyed the damage.

Amid a pile of garbage bags, some of which had broken open, the cart sat turned over—a noticeable dent in its underside where it had hit a stack of cannonballs, which were now scattered around the floor.

Correction: I wasn’t the best janitor the navy had ever seen. I was the actual worst.

I hopped down into the hole and got a closer look. Aside from the major dent, there were numerous other dings and dents in the thing that were not my doing. These carts obviously lived rough lives. With any luck, my addition to the cart’s catalog of damage would go unnoticed. At least the wheels hadn’t broken off; I didn’t want to explain to Lieutenant Cedar Breeze that I’d smashed the one piece of naval property they’d entrusted to me within an hour of starting my job.

Yona would be so proud of me, I mused mirthlessly.

I cleaned up the spill for the second time that morning and restacked the cannonballs, which were a lot heavier than I expected them to be, but it made sense when I thought about it. They were solid iron balls the size of my fist—of course they were heavy.

I grumbled at myself and my stupidity the whole time, lamenting my innate need to cut corners. After a sufficient amount of grousing, I finally decided to turn off all of my lazy instincts. I’d have to do this in about twice as many trips as I wanted to. I loaded half of the bags that I’d started with, leaving the rest in a neat pile by the cannonballs, and went back topside.

This time, I was much more successful. The cart came to the surface with only a moderate struggle at the ropes, and I was over the first hurdle. I brought it safely onto the main deck, and then promptly spent the next few minutes trying to untie all of the square knots I’d used to get the thing up here.

I was totally drenched with sweat by the time I wheeled the cart down the ramp and onto the dock. From there, it was an easy trip down to the much larger dumpsters near the path that led toward headquarters; they were in a pit, set low enough that I could just dump the cart over to empty it. The bags hit the bottom of the dumpster with a cacophonous chorus of calamity, and then it was time to head back and start the cycle over again.

I finished my work aboard the Summation a little before noon without any further incidents, and with that last load done, I dropped my cart off and checked back in with the lieutenant to get dismissed for lunch.

“You only finished the first one?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, sir.”

He sighed. “Not bad for your first go, I guess, but you’re going to need to pick up the pace. You feel like you’ve got the hang of it yet?”

I shrugged despite myself. “It’s pretty simple work.”

“Then you’ll have two more done before quitting time?’

“Shouldn’t be a problem, sir.”

Cedar Breeze nodded. “Good. Dismissed.” I saluted him and began making my way out of the office, but froze in place when I realized I had no idea where to go for food. Backpedaling, I turned and opened my mouth to ask, but he was quicker on the draw. “Chow hall is around the corner to the left; you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And stop calling me ‘sir’ every time you say anything to me. It’s a waste of your time and mine.”

“Yes, sir.” I said it before I realized what I was doing.

“Stop it!” he barked, though the slight smile on his face made me feel better. “Get out of here before you say it again.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as I walked out of the office, but that relief was gone once I was back into the direct sunlight.

I walked around the corner, and as advertised, there was the dining hall. It was a squat stone building without windows on the front. It was smaller than I expected it to be, but that made sense when I thought about it. Only a relatively small group of personnel were stationed at the docks regularly, myself included. This wasn’t where the entire navy ate their meals.

And the best part was that they served meat—actual meat.

Well, fish, but it was at least something not grain or vegetable-based.

The cafeteria wasn’t crowded, so I found a seat by myself in the corner. Aside from a few glances, nogriff paid me any mind. I was filthy from the morning’s work, but I managed to enjoy my food and break in peace.

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. The work wasn’t so bad when I could keep it at an arm’s length, and I did enjoy the repetition of it on some level. I also got everything done faster. In the time it had taken me to clean one dumpster in the morning, I finished two in the afternoon and started on a third. The usual daily quota was five, so I was still moving at a snail’s pace, but I would probably make my quota the next day.

Aside from the smell, it could have been worse.

Thursday morning, I awoke to a pit of dread in my gut when my alarm tore me from my dreams. It was a shame; I’d been enjoying the dream. The details of it were already hazy, but it involved flying. I think I might have been leaving Griffonstone behind for good, or maybe I was getting kicked out? Something to that effect.

I sat up and turned the alarm off, snuffing out the obnoxious bells with my fist, then glancing around at the darkness of my room with bleary eyes. It was still before sunrise, probably early enough that I’d beat Ty to the shower today. I threw the covers off and hopped out of bed before groggily trudging down my hallway and toward the bathroom. When I got to the hatch in the kitchen, I found everything dry and undisturbed. I was indeed the first one to the bathroom that morning. Score one for Gallus.

I left the hatch open while I showered. When it came down to it, I preferred a visible exit to the privacy of a closed hatch. Once I was cleaned up, I made myself some hash browns in the toaster. It wasn’t the ideal way to make them, but the frozen potato patties I bought at the store held together well enough that I could be lazy.

While I chewed over my breakfast, I found myself staring at the wall across the den, my mind wandering away from the tasteless food I was shoveling down my face.

Was this all worth it?

When I came here, I expected things would be different for me this summer. Instead of three months of near-isolation and struggling in Griffonstone, working for Grandpa Gruff when he was willing to pay me and finding enough odd jobs to feed myself when he wasn’t, I came here for a stable, dignified job. I was going to spend time with Silverstream, make new friends, and do fun, interesting things in my spare time.

So far, I’d been shoveling trash until I was too exhausted to think, and then I came home and lounged around my room for a few hours until I passed out. I hadn’t talked to anyone for more than idle chit-chat since I started my job last Sunday. Heck, I hadn’t even seen Silverstream since she dropped me off at headquarters on Saturday.

I came here to escape Griffonstone, but it had followed me.

I finished my breakfast, put on my uniform that was in desperate need of a wash, and made my way out the door and toward the docks. In my first five days here, I hadn’t explored any of the city past the path that led from the market square to my apartment. I took to the air when I reached the market, taking a slow, gentle path down toward sea level. I’d left with plenty of time to spare, so I could take my time getting to work.

I relished the chill of the early morning air as it streamed through my feathers. Just as I’d expected when I first arrived here, working down at sea level was like wading through hot soup for eight hours a day. Up here, I was away from the heat and humidity, and I had made a habit of leaving early in the mornings so I could take my time and enjoy the cold for a bit before I had to resign myself to the pressure cooker for the day.

I took about ten minutes to fly out and away from the mountain, but then it was time to turn back and start my descent toward the docks. As I approached the city, I couldn’t help marveling at the scale of it. Mount Aris was the largest of a jagged range of mountains that hugged the coast, lots of small points sticking up like the claws of an army of dragons reaching skyward from the earth. It made me feel small, looking down on it.

High above it all, I could almost forget how much I was growing to hate it.

I got to the docks a few minutes before my scheduled time and began my fifth day of fun and excitement with a great, big frown on my face. By now, I’d gotten the hang of how to do my job. I hadn’t made any major blunders since that first morning, and now I was comfortable enough with the work that I could zone out while I did it and forget how slowly the time was passing. One load of garbage blended into the next; one ship became two, and then three.

I was almost ready to break for lunch when I was torn from my rhythm. I had just dumped my cart and was on my way back to get one final load in before chowtime. Over the rattling of the empty cart as it crossed the wooden decking of the pier, I heard a series of wingbeats closing in rapidly from behind me.

Instinct took over for a split second, and I whirled around with talons bared, hackles raised, ready for whatever attack was coming in. However, when my eyes came into focus, my vision was filled with pink and blue.

Of course it was her.

“Easy there, tiger,” said Silverstream, setting down in front of me with a final flap of her wings. She’d stopped herself short of the tackle-hug she was probably going for when I’d whipped around ready to fight, and instead settled on the deck in front of me.

“You really shouldn’t sneak up on griffons like that,” I scolded, smoothing out the feathers on the back of my neck that had puffed out, then made a point about examining my talons. “It’s dangerous.”

She giggled. “If it makes you fluff up like that, it might be worth the risk.”

My cheeks heated up. “Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes, which was met with more laughter. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you get scratched.”

“I’ll take my chances.” She craned her neck as she checked me up and down. “Look at you in that uniform, all snazzy and official! That green really suits you.” Silverstream stretched her arms out, this time offering the hug instead of tackling me. I accepted it, though I tried to keep it loose and fast, on account of the fact that I smelled like… well, hot garbage.

Of course, she noticed. “Whew! If I’d known you’d be that funky, I would’ve brought a saxophone.”

“It’s hot out here, cut me some slack.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think sweat smells like old fish.”

“I… it’s a griffon thing,” I lied. Or, I thought, I could just tell her the real reason I stink.

Yeah, no. I’d rather keep what little respect she had for me intact.

She was winding up for another question, so I had to act fast. “So, what’s up?” I asked, pushing the conversation along.

“Just checking in on Hippogriffia’s newest sailor. How was your first week?”

Outside of wanting to correct her that I was a recruit, not a sailor, I wanted to spill my guts right then and there. I wanted to tell her all about how I felt, about how much I hated it here. But then again, that would have put her on the spot. She’d probably take it upon herself to try and secure a promotion for me, which would kill just about any semblance of a reputation I had around here. I bit my tongue and said flatly, “It’s been alright, I guess. Working on ships is pretty cool.”

“Aren’t they?” she agreed, looking around. She pointed toward the one to my right. “Like this right here. Barquentines are my favorite!”

“Hold up. Barken-what?”

“Barquentine. The ship?”

“I have never heard that word in my entire life.”

Silverstream laughed. “Gallus, come on. You sound like you’ve never been around boats before.”

“Literally never.”

“Wait, doesn’t Griffonstone have a port?”

“It’s hundreds of miles from the coast.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Didn’t you ever take geography?”

“I didn’t pay much attention in that class.” She scratched the back of her head, the faintest blush coloring her cheeks. “But anyway, barquentines!”

“Sure,” I said. “What’s a barquentine?”

Silverstream jumped off the dock and took wing, rising toward the ship’s center mast. “It’s all in the sails. They’re square on the mainmast here—” she moved down from the center mast toward the rear of the ship “—but the other sails are triangle shaped.”

“That is the nerdiest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” I called up to her. She blew a raspberry back. “How do you even know that?”

“When your dad’s in the navy, you kinda pick things like that up after a while.” She tucked her wings in and dove down to the dock, landing next to me with a heavy thunk. “You’re probably gonna need to learn how to spot the differences between the ships since you work for the navy now.”

“Meh, I’ll figure it out.” I shrugged. “So, why do you like barquentines the best?”

Silverstream answered with a vacant shrug of her own. “I dunno. I just like the name.” She turned away from me and faced the direction she came, and I followed her gaze down to see a smaller, cream-coated hippogriff walking toward us, a large camera hanging around his neck.

“There you are, Terramar! What, did you get lost on the way down here?”

Terramar stuttered a few times before he retorted, “Well, maybe if you didn’t fly like a million miles an hour, I wouldn’t get lost!” He was a little awkward, I surmised.

Silverstream laughed a single, dry laugh. “That’s just slowpoke talk for ‘I got lost.’”

“I spent three months’ allowance on this camera and I’m not getting it broken because you wanted to fly fast!” His reasoning was solid, but his delivery came out whiny and desperate.

Not the best way to win arguments there, slick, I thought.

Silverstream turned to me. “Terramar, this is Gallus, my friend from school. Gallus, this is my little brother.”

Terramar nodded at me. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Every time she comes home, she’s constantly going on and on about all the stuff that happens at school. Your name comes up a lot.”

I turned to Silverstream with a smirk, and she blushed faintly. “What? I like to talk about you guys,” she defended.

Back to Terramar. “What kind of stuff does she say?”

“SO ANYWAY,” Silverstream cut in, blushing harder. “I wanted to do this earlier this week, but I totally forgot and missed your first day. I guess your fifth day is close enough, so whatever, right? Anyway, picture this: a scrapbook all about our summer together! Doesn’t that sound great?”

My smirk faded. “Wait a second, you forgot about me for a week?” was what I wanted to say. Such a fantastic summer ‘together’ we’d had so far, but instead of killing the mood immediately the first time I’d seen her in a week, I held back and flatly stated, “That sounds like a lot of pictures.”

“Yup!” she happily exclaimed with a nod. ”We gotta get started on that. Come on!”

For his part, Terramar looked about as on board with Silverstream’s manic plans as I was. He awkwardly shuffled forward, standing off to the side as Silverstream led me by the wrist over to the edge of the dock.

“So for this first picture, let’s just get us sitting on the dock together.” Silverstream plopped herself down on the wooden deck and patted the spot next to her for me. I hesitantly sat down. “Ok, let’s take a nice one first. Should we do one looking at the camera, or maybe off in the distance? So many choices… Terramar!” She slowed herself down, closing her eyes contentedly and leaning in close to my side. “You’re the photographer. Make us look good!”

“Okay…” said Terramar. He took wing and eyeballed a few angles before he settled on hovering just off the edge of the dock. “Alright, both of you scoot up to the edge, and then... act like you’re watching a sunset.”

I breathed in and puffed my chest out a bit, assuming what I hoped would turn out as a regal pose. Silverstream wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I looked past the camera, off toward an imaginary sunset that was really just the side of the boat that happened to be in front of us.

The shutter snapped. “That was good. Now one more.” I felt Silverstream adjust her arm behind my back, and then the camera clicked again. “Okay, that should be enough.”

I relaxed, and Terramar came over to us. It was one of those new fancy cameras that printed out the pictures right when they were taken. He already had the first one in his hand, and the second was on its way out of the camera. He held it up for us to see. The first one turned out well enough, though I thought my smile looked a little off.

The second photo slipped free of the camera’s slot, and Silverstream took it, giggling under her breath. The photo wasn’t quite done developing, but I could already see what had happened.

Bunny ears.

“Hey!” I shot a glare at her, but the instant I reacted, then came the laughter from both of them.

“Gotcha!” Silverstream cackled.

For some reason, I couldn’t think of anything snarky enough to say back. Left with no better ideas, I lightly shoved her on the shoulder. She shoved me back, and we laughed.

“For that,” she said through a giggle, “I’m putting that picture on the cover of the book.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, dork.”

“Okay, so next up, I want some action shots,” said Silverstream, flying up and perching on the edge of the barken… ship thing. “Show us the nitty-gritty. Act like you’re working hard, show off what you do to keep the navy afloat!”

A bead of sweat ran down my forehead, one not caused by the humidity. “Sure,” I said, walking back over to my cart.

The trash cart. I could see it now: I, Gallus, the garbage bird, immortalized forever on film as a lowly janitor.

It was a miracle that she’d showed up at lunchtime like she did. No other crew were nearby, so I had options about how I wanted to present myself. I walked straight past the cart, instead looking for something more respectable that I could pose with. I joined Silverstream on the deck and found what I was looking for: a rope. It was attached to the sails, and I struck a pose, miming like I was pulling on it with all of my might.

“Oh, good one!” Silverstream beckoned Terramar over, and he snapped a few shots of me.

“And…” I searched the deck for another object of interest and found it in the form of a stack of supply crates. I picked one up—no small feat, considering it felt like the small box was full of lead—and carried it toward the cargo hatch, smiling the whole time as Terramar took more photos.

“That’s great!” Silverstream called. “What next?”

“And that’s pretty much it,” I said. “I don’t do anything super exciting. Just… loading crates and stuff for the most part.”

“You’re too modest,” she mock scolded. “This is super cool and I’m glad you’re happy doing it.”

“It pays the bills, I guess.”

Silence developed, only the faint lapping of the waves under the wooden pier filling the space. I hoped it would send the two of them away. It was a relief to hang out with Silverstream and actually talk with someone else, but I also didn’t want her to see the true extent of my duties. If she left now, I could keep things just muddy enough to not embarrass myself.

They, however, kept lingering, and so I decided to give things a nudge. “Well, I better get back to work if we’re done with pictures. I’ll see you later?”

“Just try and stop me,” she said with a giggle. “Come on, Terramar! I’ve got a scrapbook to start.” They left me alone with my work, and I watched them fly away until they were fully out of sight.

I wanted to go with them, but the dumpsters wouldn’t clean themselves. I grabbed my cart, but as I started pushing it forward, a thought stopped me dead in my tracks.

She forgot about me for a week?

Queen Novo was right. Of course she was right.

I closed the file on my desk and returned it to its place in my cabinet. That was the last of the paperwork involved with the griffon’s temporary placement, and now that it was out of my feathers, I was only slightly less annoyed—as much as I could be, considering my hand had just been forced into signing off on allowing an untrained griffon into the ranks.

It was only a small comfort that I’d be leaving him untrained and working a job that I’d come up with just for the occasion. Trash duty was always something rotated in among the usual dock crews, never a dedicated position. A small part of me felt sorry for the griffon. He didn’t deserve to be stuck with something so foul, but it wasn’t like there was much else for him to do. Training him properly would be a waste since he was only here for a season. Without going through basic training, he wouldn’t be of much use.

It had been a quiet week, just as Novo predicted. No chaos, no breakdown of order due to his inclusion on the dock crew. In fact, I’d been able to go back to business as usual and completely forget about the incident when paperwork regarding it wasn’t on my desk.

That was what annoyed me the most. It wasn’t giving the griffon a job, or even that my claws were tied into this arrangement. It was the fact that she was right.

I sighed and took a sip of coffee from my mug that read “I Ship It” in block letters. My daughter had given it to me during the first Three Days of Freedom festival last year, but from the concealed smirks on her face while I opened it, I could only assume that it was one of those in-jokes she had with her friends. Truth be told, I was afraid to ask what it meant, so I settled for assuming it was about my job and left it at that. Without regard to the mug, the caffeine was a warm welcome this late in the day. I was merely an hour away from returning home for the evening, but I was starting to drag as the hours wore on.

At least it was over with. In a few days, I could forget that the Navy employed a griffon entirely.

Except I couldn’t. Novo still expected me to use him as a publicity stunt for her foreign affairs ploy. I could kick the duty of organizing that to somegriff beneath me, but I’d still get to hear plenty about it and probably make a few public appearances to promote the idea.

I scowled as I took another drink. This was a navy, not a political circus act.

At least for now, it was another problem for another day. It had been a long week, and I was ready for my day off.

There was a knock at the door, and my aide poked her head through the door. “Sir, message for you from Greenfin Island. Urgent stamped.” She passed the letter across my desk to me.

I furrowed my brow. “This late in the day? Must be. Thank you, Spearmint.” With a casual flick of a claw, I sliced the envelope open.

URGENT REPORT: SEND DIRECT TO HQ.

Merchant ship Deliverance reported sunk by pirates, approximately 50 miles west of Greenfin Island early Thursday morning. Crew members found in lifeboats, one critically wounded. Were found by another merchant ship and brought to Greenfin for debriefing. Two other civilian vessels have been reported missing. No traces found of them at this time.

Requesting additional vessels to aid in search and rescue and increase patrols until the threat has subsided.

~ Commander Scarlet Waves
Greenfin Island Command Center

I rubbed my eyes and groaned. Just when I’d been thinking about the weekend, here was something to mess it up.

I cleared my desk and resorted to the first tool I always consulted when I had to make decisions: the map. I kept a large, well-detailed map rolled up and propped in the corner of my office. It saw use at least once a week, and this particular one was close to its expiration after being rolled and unrolled enough times that the edges were tattered.

I spread the map out before me and took a moment to look at the big picture. Mount Aris was near the top left corner, at the tip of a peninsula that jutted out from the mainland in the very appropriate shape of a beak. Hippogriffs didn’t control a large amount of land, mainly confined to the peninsula. The border with Ornithia sliced a round-ish arc across the top of it, the difference in color between the two nations further emphasizing the beak shape.

Seaquestria wasn’t far from Mount Aris, marked about two miles offshore to the south. Past that, there was open ocean, all the way to the southern edge of the map where the Great Ice Sheet began. The further south the map ran, the more bodgy the cartography became. The South Sea was infamous for its storms, and they tended to get worse and more frequent the more distant from civilization you went. Before the Storm King, some efforts to properly chart the area down there had been made, but that ground to a halt when hippogriffs disappeared beneath the waves.

Someday, I mused. Militarily, I wanted to know the territory down there in order to better understand my surroundings and be better prepared. Personally, it was morbid curiosity. A great mystery lay in those endless fields of ice a thousand miles away, but I wasn’t going to get any expeditions together if I had to spend all my time bothering with the pirates who decided to disturb the peace in my waters.

That led me back to the actual reason I had opened the map. Pirates. That had been the reason far too commonly in the last few months. Apparently, in the absence of an iron-fisted despot to keep things in check, the criminal underworld found a lot of room to flourish. Pirate incidents had steadily risen in the past year, despite my efforts, but this was different.

Until now, they hadn’t sunk anyone.

I turned my attention to the long, thin, curved slice of land four hundred miles to the southeast, from whence the letter had come. Greenfin Island was the second-largest installation the Navy had in the south sea, though even with that title, it had roughly half the size and a quarter of the staff that the base at Mount Aris held. Across such a vast stretch of ocean, patrols were spread thin. It would have been easy for the pirates to work around them if they became wise to our movements and learned the patterns.

That was the first item of business: patrols. Given that our ships were obviously missing something in their routes, the pirates must have figured them out and worked around the patrols. It was time to shuffle routes and schedules around, but if Captain Waves was worth her salt, she’d have done that already. I began to mentally draft a response anyway, with added emphasis on the importance of vigilance.

Next was the vessels. Greenfin’s regular fleet was twenty-two strong; enough to cover their area of responsibility, but now they would need more help to keep a lid on things. The question was how much?

My first thought was to send eight ships and bring the total operating from Greenfin to a nicely rounded thirty, but my thoughts halted when I realized that sparing eight ships would drop my numbers by nearly twenty percent. A bit much, given that this was the first report of anything major. I hedged my number back a bit, settling for five.

I pored over the list of active vessels to select the five that would go. It mostly came down to random choice, but I was able to pull several from patrol routes that had considerable overlap with others and those that were currently in port. My final shortlist was Governance, Derelict, Thunderclap, Eidothea, and Summation.

I nodded to myself and commenced writing my reply to Commander Waves. Before I could go home for the day, I needed to make sure everything was in order to send those ships off. The crews were to be notified. I would have to adjust my schedule to account for the reduction in my fleet.

I’d be home late tonight, but there was still a chance that I’d get my weekend after all.

For all the garbage I had to deal with, getting paid at the end of the week was nice. When I went to the lieutenant for dismissal at the end of the day, he was waiting for me with a slip of paper and a slap on the back.

“Congratulations, you survived!” he shouted with a hearty laugh.

The claws on my shoulder caught me off guard, probably because of how tired I was. The only thing my brain came up with was a cautious “Thanks?”

Cedar Breeze laughed again. “That’s your stub. Take that to the disbursement office at HQ to get your pay.” He passed me the slip. “Gotta say, you did pretty well for your first week. Think you’ll be good for the rest of the summer?”

It terrified me when put in those terms, but I nodded.

He smiled. “Dismissed. Get some rest. See you Sunday. ”

“Thank you, sir,” I said and walked out of his office. Since my first day, the vaguely stereotypical comments had died down from the lieutenant, but I was still a little on edge about them, half expecting one every time I talked with him.

Maybe I should have cut him some slack. Aside from the remarks on day one, he’d been a pretty alright boss so far.

I took wing and headed for headquarters. After waiting in line for a few minutes, I left with a small sack of coins that I spent most of the flight up to the highlands inspecting. Granted, it was only half of what I could expect next time since I’d only been there for a week, but it was nice to hear the coins jingling as I flew back up to my apartment.

That, however, was one of the only nice things running through my head. I was scowling when I walked into my empty, undecorated room and flopped down on the bare mattress, tossing my money on the floor beside the bed.

“Oh, I forgot.” I drummed my fists into the mattress as the line played through my head for the umpteenth time that day. I had spent the entire afternoon angry after Silverstream and her twerpy brother left me alone to finish my shift, but now the anger had softened into frustrated sadness.

She forgot I was here?

I didn’t want it to be true. Silverstream, the one true friend I knew I could count on in this place. The entire reason I was here and not in Griffonstone. She’d forgotten about me that quickly?

Did she even care at all?

Mist clouded my eyes, but I blinked it away. I may have been fairly new to the idea of having friends, but I could tell when I wasn’t wanted. Of course it made sense. She didn’t actually want me here. She just pitied me and my situation! Since I’d played on those sympathies, she felt bad enough to pull some strings with her royal ties. Now that I'd been here a few days, her duty was done. I could just fade into the background for three months until it was time to go back to school.

It stung. It was like getting bitten in the chest by a manticore. I thought I could trust Silverstream, but she’d showed me that it wasn’t true. She wasn’t really my friend.

That train of thought was alarming enough to wake up the rational part of my brain, and I shook my head to clear the haze. “That’s ridiculous,” I said out loud, trying to reinforce the idea in my head. “Silverstream is my friend. She cares about me. She just got busy and so did I.”

I felt a little better after saying it to myself. Silverstream could be a little airheaded, but she wasn’t malicious.

In spite of that, tears streaked down my cheeks, overwhelming my will to hold them in. I searched desperately around the room, but it was as empty as I felt. There was nothing here to distract myself with. If I stayed here, I’d be alone with my thoughts for the rest of the evening. That prospect was enough to catapult me off the bed. I didn’t bother grabbing any of my things on my way out of the room.

One of the perks of having an inclined hallway lead to my room was that I could use it as a slide down. I coasted into the living room and intended to keep my momentum going on the way to the front door, but I stopped in my tracks when I saw who was standing in front of the fridge.

“Hey, dude!” said Ty, holding a tray full of various fruits. I hadn’t seen him since Saturday, and on my second time seeing him, he was covered in what looked like some sort of ancient tribal war paint, a mess of colorful swirls and dots all across his body from head to hind hoof. “You gotta try these cherries.”

“What happened to you?” I asked incredulously.

“I was out on patrol all week. Let me tell you, sea serpents are sassy when you get in the way of their water polo.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with that tidbit, but I shook my head. “No, I mean what’s with the ritual paint?”

“Oh, this?” He examined himself, checking over the designs from front to back. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“What is it for?”

“Party,” he answered. I cocked an eyebrow, so he clarified. “There’s a rave happening over at Meistra’s tonight. It’s been a while since I hit one of those, so I’m going all out.”

Again, that meant little to me. “A rave? What’s that?”

Ty’s eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

I shook my head. “Griffonstone isn’t really known for its nightlife. Never heard of a rave before.”

“Hey, Diamond, get in here!” Ty shouted, craning his head toward his hallway. I heard his room’s door open, and a moment later, a teal blue female hippogriff stepped into the living room, also decked out in similar paint swirls to Ty, though hers were noticeably sloppier than his.

Ty gestured between us. “Diamond, this is my roommate, Gallus. Gallus, Diamond Glitz.”

“Charmed,” she said, her voice carrying a smooth, refined lilt to it.

I returned the greeting with a simple “Hey.”

“This dude hasn’t ever been to a rave,” Ty said, pointing a claw at me.

“Really?”

I shrugged. “I hadn’t even heard about them until now.”

“You’re coming with us,” said Ty. “You have to experience this.”

I took a glance back and forth between the two hippogriffs, eyeing the abstract designs painted all over their feathers, and I felt hesitant. “If it means I have to get painted up like that, I don’t think I want to.”

“Come on, dude, you’ll be missing out!”

“I still don’t even know what a rave is,” I reminded him.

“Ok,” said Ty. “So, do you like dancing?”

“It’s alright.”

“Do you like sick electronic beats?”

I shrugged.

Ty snorted, but before he said anything, Diamond cut in. “Maybe you could come anyway and see if you like it. We won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do—” she glanced in Ty’s direction, scolding him “—but it might be good for you to get out and try something new.”

I considered the offer. Past getting myself out of this apartment, I had no idea what I was going to do that evening. I didn’t know anything about the city; no ideas on where to go or what to do. On my own, I probably would have wandered around aimlessly for the evening. Trouble could lurk anywhere. I could handle myself if I got into trouble, but getting attacked in a random alley didn’t sound like a pleasant way to spend a Thursday night.

On the other hand, if I went with Ty and Diamond to the rave, I’d have a guided tour for the evening. I’d get to hang out with someone I was at least a little familiar with, and who knew? Maybe I’d actually enjoy myself at the party. I was nothing if not adaptable.

“I’m pretty much broke,” I said. “How much does this thing cost?”

Ty snapped his claws together, pointing a finger gun at me. “Tell you what, since this is your first one, I’ll get your cover charge.”

“Thanks, Ty.”

“So that means you’re coming?”

“I guess,” I said with a shrug. “But I don’t want to get painted.”

I got painted.

Well, I was able to talk them down to a simple design on my face, so I guessed it was a victory. Diamond added some swirls of the bright pink and yellow stuff emanating outward from my eyes and a few dots around my beak. I convinced them that a simple glow stick hanging from my neck would suffice for the rest of me.

When I looked in the mirror, it wasn’t all bad. Granted, this was still far outside the realm of what I was used to, but it was actually kind of nice in a way. Diamond was very skilled with the brush, her patterns very even and symmetrical. The sloppier lines on her body led me to the conclusion that Ty must have painted her up and she did his.

Were they an item? I couldn’t be too sure. They didn’t act like they were a couple, but that brush had gotten close to some pretty intimate places on both of them.

I was pulled from that thought when we rounded a corner and came into view of the venue. Meistra’s was fairly unassuming on the outside. The building was housed inside one of those typical circus tent-shaped buildings, though it stood out that the usual window panels were blacked out—or at least they looked black in the darkness of the evening. A line stretched out the door and around the block, moderated by two bouncers who stood an imposing height over the hippogriffs in the line, which only made it more intimidating to me since I was a foot shorter than the average hippogriff.

The line moved quickly. In about twenty minutes, Ty paid the cover charges and we entered the club. As soon as I walked in, I was punched in the face by both the sound and the smell of the place. The pulsating, rapid fire electronic music was accompanied by a frantic, energetic laser light show that dominated the dance floor, where a dense crowd of partygoers had amassed and were bouncing around totally at random, out of sync with the beat more often than not.

And that said nothing for the smell. Smoke hung heavy in the air. From the pungent, acrid smell, a lot of it wasn’t coming from a fog machine.

I was already having second thoughts.

Before I could dwell on them, however, Ty and Diamond led me toward the dance floor. As we approached it, the reason they painted themselves up became clear: it was fluorescent paint. The swirls painted up and down their bodies began to glow, and by the time we entered the crowd, they were at full brightness, the designs decorating their feathers taking focus and seemingly making their bodies disappear in the chaos.

It was stunning, to say the least. A small part of me wished I’d gotten the full treatment, but I remembered the designs they’d put on my face. It was enough. We slipped further and further into the crowd, apparently right at the end of a song. Things were calm enough that we managed to get right in the center by the time the music faded out.

There was no break. As soon as the first song finished, another one slammed through the rows of giant speakers that surrounded the dance floor. Behind me, I heard Ty shout, “Hold on, bro!” at the top of his lungs, but it was a distant echo, muffled under the wall of sound. I could feel the bass rippling through my forehead as the song swelled, wasting no time building up. Hippogriffs began dancing with abandon—well, not so much dancing as they were writhing against each other, finding what little groove they could in the tightly packed mass of feathers and sweat.

The song went through several phases, evolving past the first drop and occasionally slowing itself, allowing everyone a moment to catch their breath. I bobbed along with the music, letting the energy of the room wash over me. It wasn’t my taste, but I couldn’t help but enjoy being there in that moment. I made sure I faced Ty and Diamond, keeping track of where they were. I didn’t want to get lost in this crowd.

But then I felt the music build. I’d listened to the bare minimum number of techno songs in my life to know that the final drop was coming, and I braced myself. The bass swelled slowly, the synthesizers pushing higher and higher until it reached a peak. A pause as a distorted voice said something akin to “Let it loose,” though I couldn’t tell exactly what it was.

And then: chaos. The song blasted into its final chorus like it was packed with nitroglycerin, and the crowd went wild. I was shoved around by dancers as they absolutely lost their minds. Like a poor, unsuspecting fish swimming past a flounder, I was sucked into the depths of it before I had a chance to react.

As I was violently thrashed around by a horde of glowing hippogriffs considerably larger than myself, oddly enough, the only thing I noticed was how hot it felt. In the middle of a mass of bodies all pressed together, the air was humid and thick. One song in, and I was already drenched with sweat, most of which didn’t belong to me. I got slapped, kicked, and punched more times than I could count, and by the time the song was over, I had no idea where I was. I’d long since lost Ty and Diamond in the chaos. I needed to find a way out before the next song left me pummeled to death.

Since I was relatively small, I could slip my way through tight spaces fairly easily. I found my way to the edge and left the dance floor, winded and drenched just as the next song took over the room.

For as violent of an experience as that was, I had to admit, it had been a rush. Not the type of rush I usually looked for, though, especially considering that my smaller size relative to the hippogriffs made it downright dangerous.

In the entrance to the rave, there was a much more relaxed and less-compacted group standing around. I had to assume they were like me, not quite ready for the intensity of the rave itself, or at least needed a break.

Back home in Griffonstone, I’d never had a hard time finding alcohol. I knew Equestria was fairly strict with their drinking age laws, but at home, nogriff really cared enough to enforce them. Beer was a big part of our culture, and I’d started drinking it when I was twelve. It tasted nasty at first, but like anything, I got used to it after a while. An occasion like this demanded some form of imbibement—that was a word Ocellus taught me. It was fun to say. So I started scanning around for a bar.

I couldn’t see one anywhere. I wasn’t sure what the drinking age was here, but I was apparently old enough to be let into a party like this, so I figured I’d be old enough to drink here too. With no luck finding it on my own, I approached the first griff I saw who wasn’t talking to someone else.

“Do you know where the bar is?” I asked a lime green chick who was standing off on the far wall.

She looked at me like I had two heads. “Bar?”

“Yeah, a place to get drinks.”

“I don’t know how it is where you come from, but we don’t have ‘bars’ here,” she sneered.

It was clear that she wasn’t interested in talking to me, so I turned to take my leave. “Alright, geez, sorry I asked.”

Realization crossed her face. “Wait,” she said. “You’re new in town, aren’t you? I haven’t seen you around here before. What brings a griffon like you to Mount Aris?”

I paused, thinking of just walking away, but I decided it would be best to mingle, even if she hadn’t come across well the first time. “Work,” I answered, keeping it vague.

She nodded. “Well, you should’ve probably heard this before you showed up at a party, but alcohol is illegal here.”

Suddenly, it made a lot more sense. I hadn’t seen anyone holding a drink the whole time I was here. “Oh.”

She smiled coyly at me and motioned for me to follow her. We went down a hallway that led around and then behind the dance floor, separated from the writhing dancers by a simple black curtain. Down that row, a few rooms were in various stages of use, and she led me into the last one. A few other griffs stood gathered around a wooden barrel in the corner.

“Password!” demanded the griff sitting by the barrel.

“It’s me, you idiot,” said the girl as she led me in. “I’ve got another taker.”

“A griffon?” He mumbled something to himself, and I decided not to worry too much about what it was. “Price is ten bits a taste,” he said, producing a plastic cup and a ladle. “No refunds.”

“Now you sound like the griffon,” I snarked. Bootleg alcohol was something I’d never seen before, given the free availability of the stuff back home. Heck, it could have been classified as a bare necessity for life in Griffonstone; otherwise living there would have probably been totally unbearable. “How much does ten bits get me, exactly?”

“A full cup. As small as you are, that should be plenty,” said the hippogriff by the barrel. “You want it or not?”

This guy didn’t sound like he was interested in haggling, so I left it at that and produced my coin sack. He filled the cup full of dark liquid from the barrel and offered it to me only after I’d counted out the money. Ten bits was a small price to pay for what I could only assume was some pretty strong stuff.

I took the drink and thanked the bootleggers before I turned to leave, but one of the griffs standing by the door stepped into my path.

“Drinks don’t leave the room,” he said, his face flat.

Right. I didn’t have a lot of experience with harder alcohols, but I knew the best way to do them was bottoms up, hold your breath and do the shot as quickly as possible. That wasn’t entirely possible given the size of the drink, but I tipped my head back and drank about a quarter of it in one gulp.

Pain. The stuff was swill, tasting more like paint thinner than anything fit for griffon consumption. It fought its way down my throat kicking and screaming, igniting my esophagus as it went, and then as a final act, it pooled into a lake of fire once it hit my stomach.

I coughed and sputtered when I came up for air, and that got a round of laughs from around the room. My eyes were watering, but I had to admit, after a few seconds, the burn was pretty nice. That said nothing of the taste, though. It still tasted like I drank a tall glass of kerosene.

I decided that one drink was enough, and passed the cup to the girl that led me in. “If anyone wants the rest of that, you’re welcome to it. I’d rather not die tonight.”

That got a few more laughs and earned me a slap on the back as I left, returning to the party proper. One drink like that wasn’t going to be nearly enough, but I started to notice the faint effects of it pretty quickly. I got onto the dance floor again, this time sticking closer to the edges where I could dance in relative safety.

I spent an hour or so between dances and occasional chats with random griffs at the entrance to the party, but by the time the faint buzz of the bootleg liquor wore off, I was about ready to head home. The party was still going strong, but I wasn’t. It was only nine o’clock, but I’d had my fill. As I started looking toward the exit, a claw slapped itself over my shoulder, and I whirled around to come face to face with Ty.

“Hey, dude,” he said, his words unfocused. I came out damp with sweat after just one song; he was absolutely sopping wet. None of his body paint was left intact, the remnants of it just a few luminous smears across his feathers. His eyes weren’t quite locked on anything, off in some other world. “How’s it going?”

“Hey, yourself,” I said. “You alright?”

“Yeah, never better.” Ty swayed a bit in place. Next to him stood a girl, definitely not Diamond Glitz. She was equally drenched, and she had a wing draped over his back, a dopey little smile on her face. “I’d like you to meet Topaz. She’s a singer.”

“I’m not really that good,” she said, almost equally as out of it as he was.

“What happened to Diamond?” I asked.

“Oh, she’s around.”

“Right.”

Silence took over for a moment, and I decided it was time for me to go. “I’m gonna take off. Are you sure you’re good to get home?”

“Yeah, bro, no sweat. I’ll see you back there.” His appearance stood in stark contrast to his words, but I decided it wasn’t my place to question it. Ty was the one with experience at these sorts of parties, not me. If he said he was good, I’d take him at his word.

I nodded and made my way to the front door, where new griffs were still joining the line, though it had gotten much shorter now. The party would probably run into the wee hours of the morning, and the regular weekend hadn’t even started yet. I didn’t want to know what parties on Friday nights looked like. Not yet anyway.

The early schedule I was on had me geared to go to bed. I got back to the apartment at ten thirty, and after a quick shower to wash the night’s activities off of myself, I dropped into my bed and started drifting off almost instantly.

I went the whole night without thinking about Silverstream. Mission accomplished.

Chapter 5: Two Birds in the Bush

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“Good morning!”

The hippogriff I waved to looked up from her gardening with a start. When her eyes focused on me and she realized where the unexpected greeting had come from, she smiled and waved back. “Good morning, Silverstream!”

I had no idea who she was, but I didn’t have time to find out; I had somewhere to be and kept to a brisk pace.

The walk from Dad’s house to Gallus’s new apartment wasn’t terribly long. I was up early, before the streets grew crowded with the daily hustle and bustle. The soil was cool under my claws, and the city was quiet enough that I could hear the distant humming of the Harmonizing Heights carried on the breeze as it gently rustled the leaves of the trees overhead.

It was gorgeous. I hadn’t gone to the HH in forever, not since I was home for Spring Break. I loved going there with a sketchbook in hand. The low hums the mountaintop produced always helped get my muse going. Maybe if I found time later I could—ooh!

Idea: I could take Gallus there later! I didn’t know how much exploring he’d done on his own in the last week, but even if he had been there already, nogriff was immune to its charms.

I smiled as my plans filled themselves in for the day. I left the house that morning without any solid idea of what I was going to do, just a goal.

When I saw him at the docks yesterday, he tried acting like everything was fine, but I knew what was really going on. From how tired his eyes looked, I could easily see that he wasn’t enjoying himself, but the hard work didn’t bother him. No, this was a friendship issue.

Or, more accurately, a lack-of-friendship issue. He came a long way over the last year, but hadn’t made a complete turnaround. Ever aloof, Gallus was still a closed-off and introverted griffon, slower to warm up to new creatures than the rest of the gang. That wouldn’t change easily.

He was sad that he hadn’t made any friends among the crew griffs. I knew that the crews usually worked in groups, so if he was out there by himself, they probably hadn’t accepted him as one of their own just yet.

Of course, he would never tell me that outright. He was too proud.

The guilt didn’t leave me be for the rest of the day. If he wasn’t happy, it was my fault since I was the one that put him up to this. I couldn’t exactly go to Queen Novo to fix it either, not even counting that I’d basically cashed in all of my favors with her to get him here in the first place. I didn’t want to say it, but if Gallus was having trouble making new friends, then he would have to sort it out himself. I could still do something about it, but it was going to be something more my usual speed.

I could cheer up Grouchy the Griffon. It was the least I could do.

I rounded the last turn onto his street with urgency in my step; I wanted to get a start on things S-T-P. At the doorstep, I let myself into the apartment with the key hung around my neck. The den was dark, curtains drawn over the windows. Clearly, the boys living here had a sunlight allergy.

“Typical bachelor pad,” I muttered with a smile.

Up the ramp, Gallus had his door shut tight and, on a wiggle of the knob, locked too. Not that it mattered, though—my key worked for both doors.

I frowned as I stepped into the room. Gallus was still asleep, curled up on the bare mattress without so much as a blanket. One wing stuck straight up in the air, rising and falling in slow, even rhythm with his breaths. I crept over to the bedside, taking care to move silently. He kicked a hind leg out as I approached, but he didn’t wake. Another kick, and a quiet murmur of something I couldn’t understand. His legs twitched again, just a little.

He was dreaming, and it was one of the most adorable things I’d ever seen. A small, content smile crossed his beak, and he went still once again. I had half a heart to just leave him be. Unlike downstairs, Gallus had the shade panels in his room completely turned off, letting in all of the light from the outside. If he was still asleep, he must have been extra tired, probably from working hard all week. I stepped back from the bed and looked around the rest of the room.

It hadn’t changed at all since last weekend. Aside from the wadded-up uniform sitting on the floor next to the bed, it was still completely bare. Another glance around the room made me decide against letting him sleep. Plans had changed. I could take him sightseeing, but before any of that, we were going shopping.

I clapped my hands together like I had a pair of cymbals. “Wake up, sleepyhead!”

“GAH!” His eyes snapped open and he scurried to the head of the bed, putting distance between himself and me by pressing his back into the headboard. He took a second to focus in on the situation; when he did, he incredulously asked, “How did you get in here?”

I held up my necklace. “I have a key, doofus.”

“I locked the door for a reason,” he shot back with a frown. “I don’t want to get jump-scared while I’m asleep. Also, privacy?”

My smile waned when I considered that. I was invading his privacy by barging in here unannounced. No matter how good my intentions were, I probably shouldn’t have come in without knocking.

“Sorry,” I said with a blush. “I’ll knock next time.”

“Please do.” He deflated a bit, relinquishing his grip on the mattress under his rump. “So, what’s up?”

“You tell me,” I joked, waving a claw at the rest of the room. “This place looks exactly the same as it did last week.”

“I was busy.” Gallus rolled onto the floor with a soft thump. “New job, remember? I haven’t had time to worry about decorating.”

I pointed to the exposed mattress with an unamused crease of the brow. “You didn’t even get sheets for your bed.”

“…I was really busy.”

“Well you’re not busy today, so we’re going shopping! There’s a yard sale around the corner and we’re going to go pick out some stuff for this place, so get up!” I bounded off toward the door with the expectation that Gallus would follow along with me, but when I paused in the den, he wasn’t there. He took his time, ambling down the ramp with a yawn about thirty seconds after me.

That was a problem. I’d been to enough yard sales in the year I’d lived on the surface to know that they played by the same rules as reef sales in Seaquestria: if you wanted the good stuff, you had to get there early. “Come on, Gallus, we’ve gotta go!”

Gallus lazily pointed his hand toward the kitchen. “Can I not shower and eat first?”

“A shower will take too long! All the good stuff is gonna be gone if we don’t get there quick. Nogriff cares what you smell like at a yard sale.”

“Yeah, but this griff does.” Gallus moved to walk past me, but I stepped into his path.

“Just smooth your feathers out and grab something to eat on the way. This is time-sensitive.”

“Silverstream, chill out. It’s just a yard sale. I’ll be quick.” He stepped around me, popping the bathroom hatch open and disappearing into the space below. With him gone, I went to the couch and flopped onto it with a frustrated sigh.

Staring at the ceiling was one of my favorite forms of catharsis. Something about lying flat on my back and staring up at nothing was exactly what I needed to get the thinker going.

I heard a door hinge squeak off to my left, and I turned my head to see the hippogriff I could only assume was Gallus’s roommate stumble into the kitchen with bleary eyes, his pale red mane sticking up in angry cowlicks where it wasn’t matted down to his scalp.

“Good morning, random girl on my couch,” he said, waving at me.

“Hey,” I said back.

A long silence took over while Gallus’ roommate poured himself a bowl of cereal. I didn’t mind, considering how occupied my mind was. I knew where a couple of yard sales were going to be. If the one closest to us was picked over, then those might still be a possibility even though the pickings would be slim. I mentally mapped out the most efficient routes while I stared at the ceiling.

“I didn’t see you at the party last night,” the roommate continued, interrupting my train of thought.

“Party?” I asked.

“Oh, ok, so you didn’t crash here last night,” he mumbled through a beak full of cereal. He held up the box. “Hungry?”

“No thanks.” I was about to go back to my brainstorming, but a different idea popped into my head. I had a pretty good idea of what Gallus was bothered about yesterday, but I wasn’t totally sure. If I wanted answers, I had just met someone here who lived with him.

“What was your name, again?” I asked.

“Ty,” he answered. “You?”

“Silverstream. ”

“Huh, so you’re a random, mildly famous girl on my couch. Neat.”

“I’ve got a question for you, Ty.” I hopped down from the couch and walked to the kitchen, taking a seat at the breakfast table across from him. I glanced at the bathroom hatch, making sure to keep my voice low in case Gallus could overhear. “Has Gallus seemed upset to you in the last week?”

He shrugged. “I’ve barely seen him since he moved in. I was gone most of the week on patrol, and he was doing his thing here.”

“What about this party you mentioned last night?”

“What about it?”

“Gallus was there, right?”

“Yeah, I took him over to the rave at Meistra’s last night.”

“Wait,” I said, squinting, “you took Gallus to a rave?”

Ty nodded. “He tagged along with us.”

“And I missed it?!” I slapped the table, jostling his bowl of cereal.

He winced, rubbing a claw on his temple. “Can you take it down, like, three notches?”

I paused, blinking, then pulled back a little way and tapped my talons together. “Sorry,” I said, grinning sheepishly, then cleared my throat and tried another approach. “I mean, uh… what was it like? What did he do there?”

Another shrug. “I dunno. We took him to the dance floor and we got separated in, like, five minutes. It was crazy out there.”

I deflated a bit, my smile waning. “Did he dance?”

“Not that I saw. Why?”

“Because if he goofed it up and I missed it, I'd be really upset.” I chuckled, but decided against including the part about how I’d been trying to get Gallus to open up a bit more. Dancing was one of the things I’d tried to get him to do while we were at school, but with no such luck.

Ty and Gallus were barely acquainted; I didn’t want to embarrass him. Not yet, anyway.

“Fair,” Ty mumbled through a mouthful of cereal. “Tell you what. You seem pretty chill. If you’re around next time I’m making plans, you can come with us.”

“I’d like that.”

The hatch opened, and out of it climbed a still-damp griffon, working over his face with the towel as he walked across the room.

“Pick ’em up and set ’em down, Gallus. We got places to be!” I called after him as he disappeared up the hall to his room.

“Blah blah blah,” came the muffled reply.

True to his word, it only took Gallus a couple of minutes to come back down, feathers straightened and crest fluffed back to its usual place. “We going or what?”

“Yep! Clock’s ticking, gotta fly.” I hopped up and made for the door, dragging Gallus along behind me.

“You kids have fun,” Ty called after us.

“Just a teensy bit more, aaaaaand… heave!”

“Gah!” Gallus shouted, shoving a recliner up to the top of the hallway. I braced myself to the doorframe and tugged with all my might against the weight of the chair, and finally, it tipped over the threshold and we slid back a few inches.

“Woohoo!” I shouted, falling onto my back, winded. Gallus appeared at my side a few seconds later, his breathing as labored as mine was. I held up a fist and he bumped it.

“Let’s not… buy… anything that… that heavy again.”

“Deal.” The armchair had been a bit of an impulse decision at the second sale we went to. It wasn’t that either of us found it particularly interesting, but…

Gallus huffed a breathless chuckle. “I bet that old hen is crying over this thing right now.”

“Totally.”

We were browsing the furniture available at the sale and were about to leave when Gallus nudged me. Another hippogriff was standing behind us, hoof tapping on the ground, eyeballing the chair like a hungry wolf.

In the ensuing bidding war, more than a few expletives were exchanged between Gallus and the other bidder. It became a point of pride more than anything, but in the end, we walked away from that yard sale victorious, a ridiculously heavy and moderately worn recliner in tow for about double the price it should have gone for.

“Any ideas where you want to put it?” I asked.

“Front and center, right next to the door,” he answered. “We spent way too much money on this. It’s a trophy now.”

We shared another laugh and picked ourselves up off the floor to slide the recliner over to its new spot, which wasn’t far at all, considering that it was already about where he wanted it. While Gallus adjusted the chair to his liking, I went downstairs and retrieved the other two things we’d picked up: a poster and a book. Gallus found those on his own, and the poster was still rolled up, so I didn’t know what it was, but the book was highly appropriate: Nautical Terminology for Idiots.

I passed the poster to him. “Where do you want me to put the book?”

“Nightstand,” he said, pulling the rubber band off the poster and unrolling it. He spread it out flat on the floor, and I got a good look at it as I walked back over toward him.

“I never took you for a minimalist, Gallus.” The poster was exceedingly simple: a yellow circle in the center of a red backdrop with a white triangle on the lower side, coming up to meet the circle.

As the words left my beak, I took another glance around the room and took the words back. With our additions, it was only slightly less empty. There was still a long way to go before we could call it complete, but it made me think back to his dorm room at school. I rarely went in there, but the few times I had, it had been about as spartan as this. Gallus lived with just a bit more than what he could carry on his back, so it made sense that he would have gone for a simple decoration like that.

“What’s the poster of?” I asked.

“It’s an old tour poster for some band I’ve never heard of. I just like the way it looks,” he explained, picking it up and scanning the walls for a place to hang it. “And I just realized I don’t have anything to hang it with. Great.”

“Maybe your roommate has some tape?”

“I’ll ask him later.” He carefully laid the poster across his mattress, which was still bare, and I came closer to examine it.

“Oh, I get it. It’s like a sunrise over a mountain.” I traced a claw over the poster. “It somehow evokes a feeling of calm with just two shapes. That’s amazing! Maybe I’ll have to pick up a record and see what their music is like.” I squinted to read the tiny logo in the corner of the page. “Brahe sounds like an interesting band name.”

“You’ll have to let me know if they’re any good.” He idly scanned the room and blew a tired sigh. “So, now what?”

“I figured I’d leave that up to you. I had the morning, you get the afternoon.”

Gallus frowned. “That’s fine and dandy, Silverstream, but I don’t really know anything about this place. I kind of need you to lead me places right now.”

“Well, what sounds fun? I could take you on a tour of the city or something, or we could go somewhere?”

“Let’s go somewhere,” he answered a little too quickly. “I’ve been cooped up in this city all week.”

I smiled to keep the appearance up, but internally I frowned. He really didn’t like it here.

It just… I don’t know. It hurt a little more than it should have.

“Sure! Anything you want to do in particular?”

“Not really,” he offered unhelpfully.

I racked my brain for a few seconds, trying to think of things to do outside of Mount Aris. The only thing that came to mind was, “I know where there’s a wild stackberry bush. They’re in season right now. Maybe we could go pick some?”

“Works for me.”

“Oh! We can bake something when we get back.”

“You know how to bake?”

I laughed. “Nope. Terramar does, though. He’ll help us. Let’s go!”

After we found some bowls to carry our harvest in, we took off for the wilderness. I led the way, Gallus lagging far enough behind that we spent most of the flight in silence. I hated it, but it gave me time to think. Chief among my thoughts was that berry picking was a poor substitute for what he needed. He didn’t like his job; how would this make that any better?

Ugh. I hated it when I didn’t have any good ideas. Winging it usually worked out for me, but this was pretty sad compared to my usual skill with this sort of thing. I was the happy one—the one who could cheer up anygriff even on their worst day. But here I was, leading him off to pick berries instead of addressing the actual problem. Sure, hanging out was nice and all, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to do more to help.

But what to do exactly?

I had no idea.

The bush was a couple of miles from Mount Aris—still within sight of home, but far enough away that it felt like we were far out in the woods. It grew in a shallow ravine, hidden by ridges that obscured Mount Aris when we were on the ground.

“So, stackberries?” Gallus asked from behind me, finally ending the silence as we approached our destination.

“Stackberries,” I confirmed.

“What are they?”

I blanched. “Really? You’ve never had stackberries before?”

He flew up alongside me, shaking his head. “I was vaguely aware that they existed until about ten minutes ago. Do they taste good?”

“They’re kind of bad as far as berries go. Not very sweet, kinda tangy, but they’re really good when you add sugar and bake them in desserts.” I pointed to a ridge just ahead of us. “ The bush is right up ahead, in that valley.”

“And none of the other hippogriffs come out here to pick berries? Won’t it be worked over already?”

“Way ahead of you. Stackberries grow all over the place out here. We’ve already passed like three other bushes, but those are the ones everygriff goes to. This one is far enough away that there should be plenty.”

He nodded, and we flew quietly for a few seconds more before he spoke up again. “Hey, Silverstream?”

I thought I sensed the faintest hint of vulnerability in his voice. I looked over and was instead met with a smug grin.

“Last one there is a rotten fish!” He opened his wings wide and flapped hard, shooting out ahead and blasting me in the face with the gust.

“Oh, you’re on!” I put on speed and began catching up to him, but we had maybe another twenty seconds of flight left before we were there. He had too much of a lead for me to make it up in that time.

“Haha, slowpoke!” he shouted over his shoulder. In the midst of taunting me, he wasn’t watching where he was going, and at that exact moment, a small black blur came in from the right.

“Look out!” I shouted.

He whipped around just in time to duck away from the incoming crow. He dodged downward and clipped the top branch of a tree, knocking him off balance just enough that when he put on the brakes, he tumbled butt-over-head and dropped out of sight below the canopy.

I backpedaled hard, slowing myself so that I could hover over where he’d fallen through. From below came loud rustling and snapping as he crashed through the underbrush with the grace and subtlety of a train wreck. “Ow ow ow ow ow!”

“Gallus? Are you alright?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this thing had thorns?”

I breathed a sigh of relief; he hadn’t broken anything. “Did you fall into the bush?” Now that serious injury was off the table, I couldn’t resist the urge to giggle.

“Everything is pain!”

It was still a little funny, but the agonized shriek of his voice made me feel more sympathy for him than anything. I’d been pricked by the bush’s thorns many times, but never all over my body at once. It was bad enough to just nick my arm on the bush when I reached in to grab a berry. This was on a totally different level.

“Just fly up, there’s less to go through that way!”

More rustling and a shrill squawk of pain split the air, and Gallus emerged from the bramble like a whale breaching the surface of the ocean, with the caveat that he was covered in torn-off pieces of stackberry stalks. He dove past me toward a spot clear of underbrush.

“Help,” he pleaded, trying to pick the thorny stems free of his feathers and fur. I swooped down to him and went to work on a piece that was embedded above his tail.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“Ow! Easy!”

I let go of the stalk, waiting for him to calm down. He caught his breath for a moment and nodded to me before he ripped one off his shoulder and winced. I followed suit with mine, pulling it out in one swift yank.

We spent the next few minutes in tense silence as we pulled the rest of the thorny branches free from Gallus’s fur and feathers. He’d fallen directly into the center of a thicket. If it hadn’t been for his feathers, he would have been covered in little bloody scratches. Not that he didn’t have more than his fair share of that, especially in the finer feathers on his face, but most of the thorns didn’t quite make it through to the skin.

I was working one of the last short scraps of vine free from between his wings when he spoke up. “Thanks,” he muttered, eyes downcast, his ears flattened.

“No problem,” I said, yanking the spiky stalk free from his feathers.

He winced, which morphed into a wry chuckle. “Now I kinda wish you’d taken me on that tour of the city.”

It wasn’t the sort of laugh I felt like I could join in on, but I decided to keep it light. “There are bushes with thorns in Hippogriffia. My dad has a bunch of rose bushes around our house, so you wouldn’t be completely safe there either.”

“I’ll be sure to watch my back, then.” He sighed and wiped at his face, a tiny bit of blood coming away on his claws. “Gods alive, that stings.”

“I’ve gotten my fair share of cuts from these bushes, too. They can be mean if you’re not careful.”

He shot me a look.

“Sorry, not helping.”

He lingered on me, then blinked and lowered his gaze. “It’s fine. Just… stupid mistakes, right?”

“Oh sure, I can’t tell you how many times I crashed when I first got to be a hippogriff. Flying is hard! One little goof and wham—you’re going headfirst into a tree before you can figure out which way is up!” I chuckled at the memory, the mind-bending pain of hitting that spruce with my face distant enough in the past that I didn’t cringe at the thought of it anymore. “I still crash every now and again because I forget how you can’t float in the air like you can underwater and—”

Gallus’s breath hitched, his shoulders shaking. I came out of my own little world just in time to see tears streak down his cheeks.

“Gallus! What’s wrong?” I scooted over to him and took his hand.

“This was all a mistake,” he whispered, wiping at his eyes. The effort was worthless, though, as more tears fell down his face.

In that moment, I did the only thing I knew to do: hug. I scooted up next to him, wrapped a wing over his shoulders, and pulled him close. “Hey, it’s okay. Just let it out.”

In true Gallus fashion, he didn’t let it out. “This is so stupid,” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his wrist. “I’ll be okay, I just need a minute. Go get started with the berries or whatever.”

“Will you really be okay?”

A pause, followed by a reluctant “no” and more tears and sniffling. I kept my wing on him while he got a grip on his emotions. It didn’t take him long to recover, probably thanks to the ‘hardened nature of the griffon psyche’ that he always liked to proudly boast about.

Gallus didn’t let things get to him. He was stronger than that.

But I knew better.

Except for now, it seemed—despite all that talk about wanting to get him to open up… I genuinely didn’t know how to feel about this; I’d never seen him cry before.

When the shuddering and shaking finally subsided and he was left with a bleary-eyed, pensive stare at the ground in front of us, I decided to try prodding him a little.

“Feeling better?”

He nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

“Gallus, you know you’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

He sighed. “And you won’t let me get away without it either, will you?”

It was my turn to shake my head, and I reinforced it by tightening my wing’s grip on his shoulders. “You said this was all a mistake. That wasn’t just about the crash, was it?”

“No,” he confirmed. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “I feel like… coming here in the first place was a mistake.”

I decided not to let him know just how much that revelation stung. “Why do you think that?”

He took a long time to answer. “I don’t even know where to start. I don’t think I’ve had a single good experience since I came here. My job sucks, I haven’t made any friends, and—” he pointed his gaze at me “—the one friend I do have left me alone for my first week.”

“Left you alone? What did—oh, I did that, didn’t I?”

He nodded. “I get it if you were busy the whole time, but I haven’t had anyone for the last week. Pretty much total isolation except for my racist ass of a boss and drunken party animal roommate who I’ve only seen twice. This is probably going to sound really selfish, but I came here to not spend my summer alone and struggling, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”

“You haven’t met anyone else at your job? I thought dock crews usually worked together.”

Gallus sighed. “I scoop trash, Silverstream. They gave me the literal lowest job they could find, and then they threw me into the cargo hold by myself to do it. I’m lucky if I see anygriff at all while I’m down there. It’s hot, it’s gross, and it’s lonely.”

“But you said—”

“I lied.” He averted his eyes. “I was embarrassed to tell the truth, so I cooked up some crap on the spot about how I work with the regular crews. I’m sorry.”

So I was only half right. He hadn’t made friends, but he was also stuck with a job far worse than what I’d expected him to get.

And it was my fault. A renewed wave of guilt crashed through my gut. “I… I can talk to Queen Novo and see if we can—”

“No,” he said flatly. “If you try to change things, you’ll only make it worse for both of us.”

“But—”

“You don’t get it, do you?” He turned to me again. I could see the frustration written plainly across his face. “This isn’t something you can just fix. If you go to Queen Novo, you’ll get shot down. If—for some reason—she does decide to push me up, I’m going to pay for it by officially becoming the pariah of whatever crew I work with. My reputation will be destroyed.”

He looked back to the spot on the ground in front of us and continued. “I’m not mad at you. You were doing what you thought was best for me, but I guess it just wasn’t meant to work out.”

Realization dawned. “Wait, does that mean you’re quitting and going home?”

A pause. He took a breath and let it out slowly, leaving me in suspense. “I’m considering it.”

My ears drooped, and I deflated. I pulled my wing off of his shoulders and stared at the ground beside him. The quiet was stifling, but I had no idea what to say to break it. Suddenly, all I could concentrate on was how guilty I felt for even having him here next to me in the first place. I was desperate to try and say something that wouldn’t steer the conversation in a worse direction than it had already taken. The first thing that came to mind was “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

“It is my fault. I could have come over to see you this week. I could have done something else to make things better.”

“Silverstream, stop. There’s no way you could have known.”

“Well, what can I do to make you stay?” I shot him a pleading look. “I know things have been terrible, but I don’t want you to go home already! There’s so much more of summer left, and we haven’t done anything together.” I took a breath. “I don’t want this to end.”

“I still haven’t made any final decisions.” He shrugged. “I dunno, it’s been a bad first week and I’m just frustrated.”

“Can you at least think about it for a while? I promise things will get better.”

“I will.” Gallus stood up. “Still up for picking berries?”

I smiled. “Let’s get some fruit.”

Stackberry cobbler was amazing.

After Silverstream and I finished picking berries from the bush and thorns from my butt, we spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen at her house. True to form, Terramar came to our rescue and saved our baking efforts from total failure, though not without more of that whiny little brother stuff I’d seen the day before.

I was going to have to sit him down and give him a lesson about standing up for himself. Silverstream had a tendency to walk all over him in the nicest way possible.

It was evening when we got back to my apartment, a half-eaten stackberry cobbler in hand and a pair of stomachaches to go with it. Silverstream was right about the berries. They weren’t great on their own, but after baking? Totally different story. Adding sugar transformed them from unpleasantly tart to deliciously tangy. When the question of who deserved to keep the leftover dessert came up, Silverstream decided that I’d literally bled more for it and therefore deserved the rest. I didn’t argue.

The lights were on in the den when I opened the door. Ty was sitting at the breakfast table in the exact same spot as that morning, though instead of cereal, he was eating a full meal this time. I detected salmon on the air, but something else he’d cooked smelled stronger. I wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“Sup,” he greeted, casually waving a claw toward us. “What’s in the dish?”

“Stackberry cobbler,” Silverstream answered with pride. “We made it ourselves.”

“Dibs!” His smirk went away when he saw the glare I shot him. “That was a joke.”

“It’d better be,” I muttered, taking the dessert into the kitchen. I found an empty spot in the fridge for it and safely stashed my treat for later, but as I closed the door, one of the lessons from school came to mind. “Generosity is caring,” Professor Rarity had said, or something like that. The actual quote used more eloquent vocabulary that I didn’t remember. Not to mention that he fed me the first day I was here and paid my cover charge last night.

I sighed. “If you want to try a piece, you’re welcome to it.” If Grandpa Gruff had seen this, he would have laughed in my face and taken the whole thing. The thought made my stomach tighten, but then again, I wasn’t in Griffonstone anymore.

“I’ll take you up on that later,” said Ty. He was still in the early stages of eating his meal, so that probably meant when he was done with the main course. Looking over his shoulder, I identified the source of the stronger smell as some kind of rice. It actually looked pretty good.

“I really should get going,” Silverstream said. She waved for me to come to her for a good-bye hug. When I stepped up, she leaned in close and whispered, “Are you sure you’re alright? After, you know, earlier?”

I smiled and nodded. “It was fun. We should do something again tomorrow. Maybe that city tour?”

“Yeah! You haven’t seen the Harmonizing Heights yet, have you?”

I shook my head.

“Then it’s settled. I’ve got some stuff to do tomorrow morning, but I’ll come over in the afternoon.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said with a smile. She reached out for the hug, but I kept it short again.

“See ya!” she chirped, taking wing and zipping out the door.

I was in the process of turning to say good night to Ty before going up to my room for the night, but he got a word in first.

“Nicely done, my friend,” he said, flashing me a wink.

“What?”

His smirk grew into a devilish grin. “You got yourself a keeper.”

“What?”

“Your friend. What was her name again?”

“Silverstream?”

Suddenly it made sense. I knew where this was going.

I did not like it.

“Yeah dude, Silverstream. I think you found yourself a good one there.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, easy there. I don’t know where you got that idea from, but Silverstream and I are not dating.”

Ty laughed. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“Dude, come on. Are you serious?”

Suddenly his expression sobered. “As a heart attack. You guys would make a really cute couple.”

Faced with the sudden resurgence of my fight or flight response, I decided to fight it. “You sure you’re not still drunk from last night?”

That was met with more laughter. “I think anygriff could tell you that blindfolded. Call it what you want, but you guys obviously have something going on. I know it when I see it.”

Scratch that. It was time for flight. “Whatever, dude.” I turned and left the kitchen without another word, letting the sound of Ty’s amusement fade behind me as I climbed up the tube to my room.

“He’s so full of it,” I muttered. The lights came on, and then I remembered the first thing we’d done that morning. The new chair and poster hanging over it stuck out like a sore thumb in the otherwise empty room. I went to the chair and took my first official seat in it. Aside from the faint smell of use it carried, the thing was comfortable—perfect for thinking. It was convenient that we’d bought it today because I had a lot on my mind.

I rubbed my eyes and winced. My face was still raw from crashing headfirst into the stackberry bush, as were a number of other places on my body where the thorns had found their way through to the skin.

“Stupid.” I had no idea why I’d decided to race Silverstream in the first place. I got distracted while flying fast and lost control because of a stupid crow. That wasn’t like me. I never crashed.

I was still embarrassed that I broke down crying in front of her. However, I knew exactly why that happened. Going to a rave with Ty had only served as a distraction, but hanging out with Silverstream all day had brought the thoughts of abandonment back to the surface. I did a good job of hiding it all morning, but I guess the crash was enough of a shock to make me lose control and spill my guts.

But then I took it a step further. My contemplative stare turned to a scowl, the memory of what I’d said ringing in my ears.

“I’m considering it.”

That was a lie—another outright lie that I made up on the spot. In the heat of that moment, I was angry. I wanted her to feel the same fear that I felt—that her friend was drifting away from her the same way I’d been afraid all week.

It was vengeful, and I regretted it the second it left my beak. I never considered leaving. Regardless of how much this sucked here, at least it wasn’t Griffonstone.

If I felt dirty about the methods I used to play Silverstream to my advantage to get here, this was downright filthy. This time I wasn’t lying to improve my situation or cover my tail. It was malicious, for no reason other than to make her feel worse. I’d had the lessons drilled into my head a hundred times throughout the school year: lying to friends is bad.

And yet I was lying to her more than anyone else.

I wanted to punch myself in the head. What if she found out about all of the lies? How would she react? What if Silverstream stopped talking to me because of it? I was digging myself a deeper and deeper hole.

And Ty said we were cute together. Sure, she’d be the cute one, but me? No way. Liars didn’t get to be cute.

Wait, did I just call Silverstream cute?

Chapter 6: The Good Ol' Double-H

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I didn’t sleep much that night. One of the apparent side effects of getting scratched by stackberry thorns is that the cuts puff up slightly and start itching like the dickens. I spent most of the night tossing and turning, trying to ignore the constant tickling all over my body and not scratch myself until I bled. Maybe I was allergic?

The irritation of the stackberries notwithstanding, it was only part of the reason I couldn’t sleep. Between the constant annoyance and scratching, Ty’s stupid voice dominated my thoughts.

“You two would make a cute couple.”

He was wrong. I had to respect the audacity it took for him to say something like that to me when we were still barely acquaintances, but it was pure nonsense. Silverstream and I were friends, and as far as I was concerned, that was the beginning and end of it. I couldn’t look at her like that. It was… I don't know, weird?

Then why was I so worked up over it? I rubbed my eyes and blinked hard as the dawn’s earliest glow began trickling into the room through the walls. I groaned and lifted a wing over my face.

It wasn’t like Silverstream and I were that close. Among our friend group, we were the furthest apart. We were friends, sure, but I wouldn’t exactly call us best friends—that honor belonged to Smolder. Dragons and griffons are cut from similarly cold, uncaring cloth. We always got along the best out of everyone because we understood each other.

For a second my mind lingered on how dating Smolder would turn out, but it ended with a derisive laugh. Nothing against her, but something told me that I’d wind up dead before long in that scenario. So far as I knew, she wasn’t even interested in boys, let alone one from another species. That was okay with me.

So why Silverstream, aside from simple proximity? We hardly ever hung out one-on-one before I came to Mount Aris. In a group, everything was peachy, but being alone with her could quickly turn into sensory overload. Her enthusiasm was fun, but when exposed to the full brunt of her talking a million words per minute and never sitting still longer than it took her to say those million words, I could only endure so much of it at a time. She wore me out more often than not.

No, Silverstream was not the kind of girl I was interested in. Not even counting what everyone back home would think if I wound up with a hippogriff, we just weren’t compatible like that.

I blew a defeated breath into my crest and rolled out of bed. It was an early start for a weekend, but I needed to get up and occupy myself. I felt better after a shower and breakfast, but my brain was stuck in a loop. Every time I went idle, even for a moment, it was back to thinking about Ty.

And Silverstream.

I didn’t know what I was going to do until Silverstream showed up in the afternoon. My room was still pretty much devoid of anything interesting, and I somehow didn’t have the willpower to actually go outside and make my own entertainment. I was stuck here, alone with my thoughts.

“Ugh,” I muttered under my breath as I flopped onto the couch and buried my face into my hands. Ty and his stupid comment. I had no idea what I was going to do to get away from it. If he was here, I probably would have launched into a rant about how wrong he was, just to shut him up. I had the evidence and facts on my side.

Come to think of it, it was weird that he was nowhere to be found. Usually there was at least some evidence of his comings and goings, but this morning there was nothing. Not a peep from his room, not even a muffled snore. The kitchen was in proper order, nothing out of place. It was just me. I was still a little groggy from getting nearly no sleep, so I rubbed my eyes and stretched myself out further on the couch.

Next thing I knew, I awoke with a start to the sound of a knock at the door. I sat up with a groan and rubbed my eyes. It was amazing how quickly I’d fallen asleep only an hour after giving up on my insomnia. I really hated my body sometimes.

I had no idea how long I was out, but it was a safe guess that I’d slept into the afternoon and Silverstream was here. A little pang shot through my guts as I gripped the door handle, and I steeled myself against it. She was just my friend. There was nothing to be afraid of.

I would be lying if I said I would have ever expected who greeted me when I opened the door. Instead of Silverstream, a sandy-coated hippogriff a full head taller than me was standing on the doorstep. “Hello! Valiant Wing of Hippogriffia Daily, pleasure to make your acquaintance. You must be Gallus, right?” She offered me a claw, and through my stunned silence I had the presence of mind to shake it.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I croaked after an awkwardly long pause.

“Excellent, do you mind if I come in? I’m doing a story about the Navy and I’d love to ask you a few questions.” She had a way of talking so fast that it made my head spin, but with enough authority to lead me along without question. Was it just me, or did every female hippogriff talk a mile a minute?

I nodded and stepped aside, allowing her into the den.

“I like your place,” she commented, eyeing the room with a probing gaze. She was taking mental notes, searching for details in the surroundings. Her gaze lingered on the kitchen and the hatch leading to the bathroom for a few seconds. “Very cozy.”

“Uh, thanks I guess,” I said, scratching the back of my head.

“May I?” She took a seat on the couch, and given that it was the only chair in the room, I stood awkwardly at one end of it.

Valiant Wing took out a notepad from her satchel and produced a shiny metal ballpoint pen with an ornately engraved surface, a lattice pattern etched into the metal. This hippogriff did a lot of writing, and she wanted the whole world to know how good she was.

That observation did little to answer the obvious question. “Why are you here?” I asked, blurting out the first thought in my head.

She frowned slightly. “Like I said, I’m here to interview you.”

“Why me?”

She leaned toward me, flashing me a smirk. She knew something that I didn’t. “Because you are big news, Gallus. I report on big news.” Her voice was sultry, like a warm summer evening on the beach. It was comforting, but at the same time something about it was unnerving, like a jaguar was hiding in the jungle next to that beach. If she was anything like the journalists in Equestria that were always writing takedown pieces about the friendship school, I needed to watch my step.

“That doesn’t clarify anything.”

The smirk dried up, as did her tone. “I don’t assume you’ve looked very deeply into naval history, have you?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice to say that your inclusion in our military is a first. In its history, Her Majesty Queen Novo’s Royal Navy has never included a griffon among its ranks.” She made a point of enunciating every word in the navy’s full name.

My brow raised. I knew that Headmare Twilight had tried to send that gigantic Rock Hoof pony to work in the Hippogriff Navy just a few months ago. It didn’t work out, but not because he was a pony, to my knowledge. The navy wasn’t an organization that discriminated based on species. I couldn’t have been the first, right?

Then again, I hadn’t exactly seen any other griffons here besides me. Maybe I was the only griffon in this whole city?

That thought made me feel a little lonely.

“It sounds like you already know everything about it. A lot more than I do.”

She laughed, a quick little snort. “That’s the official story that anyone can discover for themselves, but talking to the first griffon to ever join Her Majesty Queen Novo’s Royal Navy will give my story the texture it needs!” She clicked her pen. “So, let’s start off with some basic questions. Have a seat, tell me a little about yourself, Gallus. How did you wind up in Hippogriffia?”

That was a loaded question. I steered around it with a shrug as I went to the far end of the couch. “I honestly don’t know. One minute I was in class, the next minute I’m here. Life is kinda crazy these days.”

Valiant’s pen worked furiously against the page, her hand deftly practiced at writing down as much as possible as fast as possible. Even more impressive was the fact that she could keep eye contact with me while writing. “You and me both. So you’ve gotten yourself a job with the Navy?”

“For the summer, yeah.”

“Just for the summer?”

I nodded.

Valiant gave me a puzzled frown. “I didn’t know the Navy did temporary positions.”

“Apparently they created one specially for me,” I said under an eyeroll.

“Wow! You must have impressed them.”

“Sure, enough to make me a janitor for three months.”

“So you’re working in sanitation?”

My smile carried a sharp edge of irony. “I’m the best trash griffon they’ve got on the payroll.”

Valiant Wing marked something out hastily on her sheet. I must have surprised her with that revelation. “How do you like working for the Navy?”

I shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. I’ve had worse jobs.”

“Worse jobs? Care to elaborate?”

Reminiscing on my life before I became a student wasn’t something I felt like doing so early in the day. “Not really.”

She frowned and went back to her notebook, leafing through the pages. “You said you don’t know how you wound up in Hippogriffia. Surely there’s more to the story than that. Was there a specific event that led you here? Someone you know?”

She’d noticed the deflection. I sighed inwardly, “Yeah, my friend Silverstream was the one that brought me here.”

“That’s right, she’s the one who goes to that school in Equestria. You’re a student there too?”

I nodded.

“And she was the one who helped set everything up?”

“Yes, and I’m very thankful for that. Without her help, I’d be back home in Griffonstone.”

The reporter tapped her pen against the tip of her beak. “If memory serves, Silverstream is related to the royal family. Did that have something to do with the hiring process?”

I could read the writing on the wall. Whether she was pushing for a corruption or nepotism angle, that question would lead nowhere good if I answered truthfully. “She suggested I get a job with the Navy, I interviewed for the position, and I got the job. That’s all I know.”

This time seeing her mostly hidden grimace of frustration brought a little nugget of satisfaction. Shutting down the question designed to raise the scandal alarm felt good. Like I was protecting Silverstream somehow.

Shut up, brain.

“Moving on,” said Valiant Wing. “You come from Griffonstone?”

I nodded.

“And you’d rather not be there?”

I shook my head. “It’s a dump.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” she commented, scribbling furiously on her notepad. “So, how do you like living on Mount Aris? Any early impressions of the place?”

Another loaded question, but this time I decided to be truthful. “It’s pretty nice, but I haven’t had a great first week. I don’t know how well I like it, to be honest.”

Valiant frowned and marked something else out. “I’m sorry to hear that. Anything you did like so far?”

I could tell I wasn’t giving her the answer she wanted, and I reveled in that for a moment. “I’m far away from home and in a new place. There’s a lot of things to do and see, opportunities everywhere. And it’s pretty. I love the architecture here.”

Valiant scribbled down a few more things and folded her notepad closed. “That’s all I’ve got for you.” She rose from her seat. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”

“My pleasure,” I said, shaking her hand.

She departed quickly, showing herself out. The door closed with a click, and I was alone again.

“That was weird.” I sat there in the quiet of the den for a moment. She couldn’t have been here more than ten minutes, but it felt like the conversation had taken over an hour. I sprawled out on the couch and let out a sigh. Maybe I hadn’t been asleep for long before the reporter showed up, but I was still tired. It only took a few minutes for me to fall asleep again.

Once upon a time when I was younger, I took an art class. The class was a breeze to me, but not for everyone. Terramar took the class with me, and he struggled with it. He had to rush every single project in that class and barely passed at the end. The teacher was never very happy with his work, and he didn’t stick with it afterwards.

Terramar once told me that a blank canvas was intimidating. He never knew how to start, so he always put it off until he was forced to at the last second. For me, a blank canvas was a land of infinite possibilities! I could do anything in that little square of stretched fabric. It was my domain, a place where I made the rules.

Starting was always the most difficult part of any piece—that much I could agree on—but unlike him, I didn’t dwell on that.

Good thing for me that abstract impressionist paintings didn’t need a well-placed start point. I could leave everything up to chance. Dollops of every color of oil paint I owned were laid out on my palette, the canvas stood stalwart on the easel. I took the brush in my beak, closed my eyes, and lowered it to the palette, giving it a swirl around the outer edge to make a pass through all of the colors.

With feeling, I repeated in my head, stepping up to the canvas with eyes still closed. I brushed a wing against it to ensure I wasn’t just going to swipe at the air with my paintbrush, and once I was in position, I arched my neck and dragged the brush across it in a haphazardly curved line from left to right.

There! Now the hard part was done. I opened my eyes and took the brush in my free hand before examining my work, a stripe of varying color and intensity, a mishmash of whatever happened by chance when I closed my eyes.

But what did it mean? How did I feel about it? That was the hallmark of abstract impressionism. The seemingly random patterns of colors all meant something. Anyone could splash paint onto the canvas, but it took an artist’s touch to bend the colors to shape, to represent raw emotion in a physical medium.

I stared deeply at that streak of mixed color, analyzing it. What story did it tell? What was I feeling when I first laid it down? My brain usually had a knack for sorting out what the colors said, but this time I was drawing blanks. I had no idea what it meant.

Why is art so hard?

I was about to drop the palette on the ground and give up when it hit me. Confusion. There it was. This time, the randomness of the painting truly was random. The colors had no clear meaning, but that was now the point. True mastery of an art form came when you could break the rules on purpose and get away with it.

So, confusion. Why was I confused? The world was a confusing place a lot of times, sure, but I wasn’t particularly worried about anything right now. Things had calmed down a lot in the last year. Now that I was home for the summer, I could relax and not worry about things that I didn’t want to worry about.

I frowned. It’s Gallus, isn’t it?

I raised my brush back to the canvas, picking up a glob of blue paint and tracing it parallel to the original stripe of confusion. That boy had me worried. And sad. Saddied? No, that didn’t work. Sadness and worry were two separate things. They needed separate stripes.

I chose yellow to represent my worry, only realizing the similarity to Gallus’s colors after I started laying down the yellow stripe. Multidimensional symbolism!

So I was worried about what could have made someone as stoic as Gallus break down crying, and sad that he was considering leaving Mount Aris because of it. Yesterday gave me a glimpse at a side of Gallus he rarely showed anyone. The last time he’d been that emotional, he was divulging the tragic details of his home life or lack thereof in Griffonstone, and even then, he hadn’t cried.

If he could go all of his life without anyone to call family and not even cry about it, then something must have been really bad in the last week, probably much worse than he’d let on. That was just like him; suffer in silence and never show the cards in his hand.

I filled in the space between the blue and yellow lines with pink. Tender and raw, the fleshy, fragile part of a person. Guarded by his exterior colors. Apparently Gallus was a little softer inside than I had thought.

But how soft was he? Was he fragile enough under his shell that his life before moving away from Griffonstone could have broken parts of him? Was he damaged?

I shook my head, clearing those thoughts away. Gallus was fine. He had his scars, but that was what made him Gallus. I focused back on the painting and blinked in horror at what I had done while lost in thought. Red. Everywhere. A huge swath of crimson bisected the canvas from top to bottom, staining the yellow stripe to orange and the blue to purple where they crossed.

“This isn’t helping,” I said, sighing. The clarity I usually felt from art wasn’t coming to me. I was working with an incomplete picture. The more I thought about it, the more curious about Gallus I became.

I knew about his home life, at least a few details. No family, no friends, but the rest of it was a mystery. I also knew his job here in Hippogriffia wasn’t great. Outside of that? I just knew what everyone else knew. He was a snarky, tenacious griffon who kept everyone at arm’s length, even his best friends. What was he hiding in that mind of his?

I cleaned my brush and pushed the easel up against the wall. I hadn’t set out to do it at first, but this painting had morphed into a visualization of Gallus, and it wasn’t even close to half complete. I couldn’t finish it in good conscience if I didn’t know more about him.

So that meant I needed to do some digging. Gallus was an enigma. I could crack the code.

I went to my bed and slid myself underneath it, reaching for the big basket of junk I had stashed there. Among various seashells and assorted nicknacks I’d accumulated from yard sales and still had yet to find a use for, there was a stack of notebooks from my first year at friendship school. I thumbed through the stack, frowning when I didn’t find what I was looking for.

“It must be at Mom’s house,” I said with a groan. That meant an hour-long trip to Seaquestria just to pick up my old psychology notes. Hopefully, she wouldn't be home and I could just slip in and out unnoticed.

But it would be a worthwhile trip. I had a hunch about what was wrong with Gallus, but I needed more information. Lucky for me, I had a full course in psychology under my belt, all the tools I needed to get to the bottom of his mind’s mysteries. I just needed to use them. I grinned as my plans filled themselves in. Today, at the Harmonizing Heights, I would get my answers.

It was before noon, so I wasn’t running late, but things could get a little dicey if Mom saw me. If I wanted to get to Gallus’s place on time, I needed to hustle!

“Hey there, Gal Pal!” Silverstream stepped into the den with the usual grin on her beak, oblivious to me as I tried to process the name she’d just called me.

“Gal Pal? Really?”

She blinked. “What? It’s a fun name! Short for Gallus Pallus.”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid that’s a no-go, uh…” I tried to think of something to match it with, ”Sillystream.”

It was the best I could come up with on the spot, and it sucked.

“Ok, that one was lame,” she laughed. “And I’ve heard it before.”

“I wonder why.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Sorry I’m late. I had to make a run to Seaquestria today, and that took way longer than I thought it would. My mom loves to talk my ear off when I’m down there.”

“It’s alright. I had a weird morning. Some reporter showed up and asked me a bunch of questions about my job. Kinda wore me out. I was napping most of the day.” I felt a lot better after the nap. Clearer. No longer were my thoughts centered around Ty’s comment or the implications thereof. Nor would they be now that Silverstream was here.

There was a slight pause as her smile twisted itself into a frown. “What did you say?”

Right. She knew that whole story now. “Eh, just the basics. You’ll get to read it when it comes out.”

She smiled, but I could still see some of the wariness in her eyes.

“So!” I said, clapping my hands together to change the subject, “Whatcha wanna do today?”

“You know. What we had planned!”

I blanched, searching my memory. “Oh, yeah! Right. That.”

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

“...Yeah.”

She giggled. “Then it’ll be a surprise!”

“Cool. I’m ready when you are,” I said.

“Great!” Silverstream bounded outside, slapping the top of the doorframe with her talons as she walked out. I followed along and locked the apartment behind us. The dirt path was damp and the air smelled faintly of rain, but it was sunny. I must have slept through the rain shower.

Silverstream was already almost to the end of the block by the time I started up the street, so I had to run to catch up. “Any chance you could take me underwater sometime?” I asked, her earlier comment about going home to Seaquestria still on my mind.

“Sure! We could do that today instead if you want to. There wouldn’t be enough time to get to Seaquestria and back, but I know a coral reef nearby that’s really pretty.”

“Eh, we already have plans for today. Next time?”

“It’s a date!”

I tensed. Shut up, brain. You know what she means.

Instead of making the usual left turn toward the market that I always used as a takeoff and landing point, we turned right at the first intersection. The path led us uphill, past several more rows of residential trees like the one I was in, though these looked more upscale, some of them perched on pillars of stone that elevated them above the road. Further ahead, the tree canopy opened up and spat us out onto a crowded, wide cobblestone road.

“Huh, so this is where the action is.”

Silverstream nodded. “Yep! Main Street.”

“Figured it would have a more exciting name.”

“It’s a placeholder. We’re voting on an official name sometime this year.”

“Wait, why wasn’t it named in the first place?

Silverstream’s ears drooped subtly, just enough that I noticed. “It’s a long story,” she said, her words clipped, but she perked up in a blink. “This way!” She pointed us right, and we walked down the thoroughfare amid the hustle and bustle of an entire city of hippogriffs. The little market I landed in every day near my apartment was small by comparison. Main Street was lined with stores, stalls, and tents like a fair. Streamers hung overhead from the light posts. Immediately in front of us, a merchant was searing salmon over a fire, the warm scent of smoke and fish making my mouth water. I almost asked Silverstream to stop so I could buy some.

Over the sounds of the general commotion, I picked up on a strange low hum emanating from somewhere ahead of us. I cocked an ear, trying to figure out its source, but it was difficult to pinpoint. Silverstream noticed it too, and she grabbed my hand. “Ooh, it’s starting! We gotta hurry!”

I saved my question about what ‘it’ was, my brain too busy focusing on her claws intertwining with mine as she led me at a gallop down the road.

Stop thinking about it.

The humming in the air grew louder as we approached the arch, which rose to a point in a shape that reminded me of an onion. It was set into a high stone wall covered with moss, and several more engraved arch shapes in the wall surrounded the central one like feathers of a peacock’s tail. Through the opening, I could see no more buildings. Just a lush green field with a waterfall off to the left.

A park? Was there some kind of concert going on here? My gaze was drawn upward as we entered the park, marveling at the height and grandeur of the gateway arch.

“These are the Harmonizing Heights!” Silverstream announced, earning a few looks from the other hippogriffs and a couple of ponies coming and going from the park.

It was impressive. The true summit of the mountain—not counting the artificial height from the stone wings that wrapped around it—was kept separate from the city. Waterfalls around the sides flowed from bluffs built up around the edge, converging into a rushing, effervescent stream that ran down the center of the park. Birds sang in the grass, and all around, the hums emanated from seemingly everywhere.

I didn’t have words for it at first. It was a beautiful place, to be sure, but the strange tones vibrating the air in a pattern nearly consistent with music were captivating. I searched the walls, trying in vain to find the source of the sounds, but there was none. It came from nowhere and everywhere.

“Alright, tour guide. Tell me about this place. Where’s that sound coming from?” I asked.

Silverstream beamed at the opportunity to dive into details. “I actually worked as a tour guide before I went to friendship school, so I’m glad you asked!” With a quick flap of her wings, she settled on top of a boulder about twice as tall as I was, puffed out her chest, and launched into a speech. “The summit of Mount Aris is a beautiful plateau that not only is home to the capital of Hippogriffia, but where music comes from thin air! The sound you’re hearing is the crown jewel of our mountain, the Harmonizing Heights. Some like to think that it was magic that produces the songs, and they’re right! Kind of. It’s not magic in the traditional sense, but the magic of engineering!”

“You rehearsed this?”

“Oh, I’ve given this speech like a hundred times. Know it like the back of my hand!” She puffed her chest back out, re-entering her tour guide mode. “The sounds you hear aren’t natural to the mountain, but they’re actually an accidental result of the huge construction project at the beginning of King Nimbus’s reign, when the Wings were built to help us defend the mountain from invading navies. After they were constructed, sometimes a resonant hum would occur when the wind blew from just the right direction. After a few years, the king decided to make some modifications to the walls that would make the wind resonate at musical intervals, and so the Harmonizing Heights was born!”

I gave her a vaguely sarcastic round of applause. “Bravo! Encore!”

Silverstream picked up on it and took a bow. “It was the performance of my career.” She hopped down from the boulder and urged me onward, deeper into the park.

We continued into the meadow until we found a nice spot under a tree, right next to the confluence of the streams. She plopped down in the grass and patted a spot next to her.

“So, this is the plan?”

“Yup! After yesterday, I figured we should take it easy and not do anything too active. We can just hang out here for a bit until the sun sets. That’s okay with you, right?”

Great Grover’s ghost, did she overhear him last night? My heart rate increased, and my mouth suddenly felt dry. Was this really going where I thought it was going?

Of course it wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Silverstream and I hung out plenty one-on-one. What made this any different? A stupid comment from a roommate I barely knew? I sneered at myself internally. I had no idea why it was getting to me so badly, but I needed to stop it, pronto, or—

“Gallus?”

I snapped back to reality. “Yeah, that’s cool,” I muttered, sidling over to her and claiming my place by her side.

Phrasing. I pushed the thoughts from my brain. They didn’t matter.

“I found something earlier that got me thinking,” said Silverstream.

“That’s dangerous,” I quipped.

Silverstream pulled a notepad out that had been tucked under her mane, ignoring my snark. “Have you ever taken a personality test?”

I blinked. “Nope.”

“Look at that, two firsts for you today!” She dropped the note pad in front of me and offered a pencil. “Just fill that out and I’ll handle the rest.”

I cautiously opened the booklet and shot her an unamused look. “You’re really making me take a test while we’re not in school?”

“It’s a fun test!” she countered. “It helps you get to know yourself better.”

“I know myself pretty well. It’s not like I can ever get away from myself.”

Her expression flattened a bit. “Just take the test. I’m doing it too.” She turned to her packet and left me to fill out mine. It seemed like half of the questions in the test were just slightly reworded versions of ‘Do you like going to parties?’ or ‘Do you work well in groups?’. It was farcical to me, but I decided to humor her and fill it out honestly.

I was about halfway through the test when I noticed another sound join in with the droning hymn of the mountain. This time, though, I could easily pinpoint the source. As Silverstream filled out her test, she started humming along with the tune. A couple of times when the pitch shifted, she lagged behind the change by a second or two. Each time, she adjusted her wings and creased her brow.

I realized I was staring and forced myself to look down at the page. A strange warmth in my chest bubbled up.

I thought it was cute, and I hated it.

I finished the rest of the test at breakneck speed and pushed it toward her. “Welp, I’m gonna go explore on my own while you finish yours up. Come find me when you’re done!” I sped off before she could reply, making a beeline to a bluff on the edge of the park.

“I hate you, Ty. I hate you a lot,” I cursed under my breath. I landed a bit harder on the bluff than I intended to, earning a look from a couple that were also perched up there. The water looked inviting and cool, so I dunked my head into it. The cold stung, frigid catharsis shocking my brain out of its warm, fuzzy thoughts.

Distract yourself. I searched around for anything to occupy my mind, and my eyes settled on the stream itself. The ledge we were on couldn’t have been more than ten feet wide, so the fact that a natural spring could rise in such a small outcropping was ludicrous. I waded into the shallow stream and approached the stone wall, feeling around the streambed for a source.

Aha! Found it. I felt a current push upward on my hand, which I found to be coming from a small metal grate.

So everything about the Harmonizing Heights was unnatural. I took another look at the valley, and it suddenly felt cheaper, less spectacular. This wasn’t a natural wonder. It was a cold, desolate mountaintop transformed into a lush paradise by hippogriff claws. A sculpture.

I walked over to the edge, standing at the top of the small waterfall and peering down at the short cascade into a shallow pool below. It may have been artificial, but it was still pretty nice. I dove over the edge, spreading my wings to arrest my fall and carry me gently to the ground next to the pool.

An old griffon legend stated that if a waterfall had a cave behind it, the treasure of a lifetime could be found within. Not that there were many waterfalls near Griffonstone—it was on a high, arid steppe. Rain was rare outside of a month or two in the summer.

Grandpa Gruff certainly believed it, though. One time, he dragged me along on a trade run to Sheerwater, the new capital of the Griffon Empire. We got sidetracked on a road we hadn’t ever taken before, one which incidentally took us right past a tall waterfall on a stream. Grandpa Gruff eagerly abandoned the cart to go search for his life’s treasure, only to return agitated a few moments later. There was no cave. He was in a foul mood the rest of the day.

He was never pleasant, but that trip had been hellish. Nowhere close to being worth the paltry twenty bits he paid me for two days of putting up with him.

I shrugged off the memory. Maybe my luck was better than his.

I peered back through the veil of rushing water, and I could barely make out a dark, cavernous space hidden behind it. I took a breath, closed my eyes, and leaped forward. The brief splash of water hit like a heavy punch downward as I rushed through. I didn’t shatter my beak against a rock wall, so that was a good sign. I skidded to a halt on a jagged, rocky floor and opened my eyes.

It wasn’t a grand cavern, but the little waterfall had a cave large enough to at least accommodate a griff or two. I searched around the shadowy space in earnest, scanning around for my treasure of a lifetime.

There was none, of course. Who would stash valuables behind a waterfall in the middle of a city? Other than a few names scratched into the rock, there was nothing in here but me. I scoffed, laughing at the small part of me that hoped the legend would hold true. I wasn’t getting rich quick today.

Behind me, a splash through the waterfall and claws skidding to a halt drew my attention. I whirled around, hackles raised, only to find my vision filled with pink, purple, and blue.

“Couldn’t wait to explore the double-H on your own, huh?” Silverstream said, giving herself a quick shakedown to dry her coat and feathers.

My treasure of a lifetime. How convenient. “Double-H?

“Harmonizing Heights.”

“Right. Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist its charms,” she said, flashing me a knowing smirk. If only she really knew. “It’s almost sunset. I’ve got a great spot where we can watch it. Come on!”

With another splash, Silverstream disappeared through the waterfall. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to plunge through the chilly water again.

Was I going to be like this for the rest of the summer? Unable to look at Silverstream without feeling all tingly and embarrassed? Yesterday, despite the unpleasantness that happened, everything had been fine. We were just friends hanging out, having a good time. That much hadn’t changed, but now I couldn’t turn off the rosy tint in my brain.

I sailed through the waterfall and landed on the riverbank, shaking the remaining dampness from my wings. Silverstream was already in the air, hovering overhead waiting for me. I took wing and she led the way upwards. Higher and higher we climbed, heading for the highest point we could reach: the tip of the spire. I hadn’t gotten a close-up look at it yet, but now that we were nearer, I realized what it was.

“Was that the old palace?” I asked, shouting over the wind. She followed where I was pointing and nodded. She continued on in silence, leading us higher. I expected us to go straight to the top, but instead we aimed for a flat spot right at the point where the stone wings converged into the spire. The ledge was barely three feet wide, so sticking the landing was a bit tricky. One of my hind legs hung over the edge until I found my footing and fully perched myself there.

“We aren’t going all the way to the top?” I asked.

“We’re not allowed up there. There’s guards on the top platform.”

“But we’re allowed here?”

Silverstream shook her head. “Technically, no.” She paused and shot me a sideways glance. “But has anyone ever told me not to be up here?”

I nodded and settled myself, lying on my side half curled up. Silverstream chose to recline back and rest her head against the stone wall, her hind hooves hanging over the edge.

Below, the entire city stretched out like a staircase leading down to the world. The sun rested on the horizon, a fierce orange ball sinking into the ocean that colored the entire sky around it. The last rays of its warmth were fading, and as high as we were, I was starting to notice the chill in the air. I puffed a slow breath out of my mouth and noticed the faint wisp of steam.

Something warm and soft pressed against my side, but instead of appreciating it, I shuddered. Silverstream had shifted, leaning up against me on her shoulder.

She’s just cold. She’s just cold. She’s just cold. She’s just cold.

She sighed. “I love coming up here in the evenings. You can’t beat the view.”

“It’s nice,” I croaked.

“Uh, you okay?”

I cleared my throat with gusto. “I’m good, just a little thirsty.”

She shrugged and we went back to uncomfortable silence, at least for me. After a few minutes, she broke it with: “Do you have a secret spot like this back home in Griffonstone?”

“Yeah. It’s nowhere near as good as this, though. Sometimes I’ll fly out into the plains around Griffonstone and try my luck at hunting. Usually, it doesn't work out very well, but one time I found a little pond with some shade trees in a valley a few miles away from the city. It turned into my reading spot when I needed to get away from things.”

“That sounds nice,” she hummed. “Sometimes I take a small canvas and some paint up here. If I can’t think of anything else to paint, I’ll just do a landscape of the city.” She paused and took a breath. “Everything’s kind of like a painting from up here. When you get high above the city, it looks so much more peaceful. Like all of the problems and bad stuff just fade away.”

“It’s nice,” I said again, my brain short-circuiting. It was the only thing I could think of besides the fact that she was still leaning against me and being all sappy.

This wasn’t a date. This was something friends totally did all the time. Right? Right?

I snuck a sideways glance at her. A small, content smile crossing her beak, eyes transfixed on the sunset. She took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh.

There was no way this wasn't the real deal. I could deny it all I wanted, but I couldn't ignore what was staring me in the face.

Should... should I make a move? My wings were pinned against the stone, but I could move my arm. I started shifting my arm to slide it behind her back and onto her shoulder. Slowly, carefully, like a thief rappelling into a jewelry store. My heart was about to beat through my rib cage. Was this really happening? Was I really doing it?

Reason hit me like a freight train. Abort, stupid! Abort!

My brain hit the escape button just as the sun slipped below the horizon. “Oh crap, you know what? Ty asked me to help him… move the fridge. Tonight! Right now.” Hastily, I stood up and left Silverstream leaning against empty air. She caught herself with a talon before she tipped over.

Silverstream looked at me incredulously. “Uh…”

“This was fun. Really fun! We should do it again sometime okay bye!” I flapped hard to take off, but on the downstroke, my wing clipped stone and I fell off the ledge with a yelp. For a second I tumbled in a freefall, but I was able to twist myself around in midair and open my wings fully, arresting my fall. With my flight stabilized, I spread my wings wide and sped off toward home.

I didn’t slow down until I made it back to the apartment.

Chapter 7: Fortune Favors the Bold

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Ty was standing in the kitchen, sifting through several containers of food on the counter when I got back to the apartment. Both the fridge and freezer doors hung wide open.

“Hey, dude. I wish you’d showed up a few minutes ago. Would have asked you to help me move this thing,” he said, slamming the fridge door shut with a crisp slap.

I had half a mind to punch him right in the beak. He was the source of all of my problems today. That stupid, dopey grin on his face mocked me. I wanted to smack it off him. I took a step forward and bumped into a very full and heavy duffel bag sitting in the middle of the floor, pulling me from my rage-fueled thoughts.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“I just got orders today. There’s some—you alright?” He cocked a brow at me. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just got back from flying. I’m a little tired,” I said, quickly covering my tracks.

Ty clicked his beak. “Huh. Anyway, some stuff is going down and the Eidothea is getting deployed to Greenfin Island. I have to go with it—sad, I know.”

Good. Now he’d be out of my feathers for a while and I could straighten out the whole Silverstream debacle without him hanging over my head. “Well I guess I’ll see ya,” I said, walking toward my ramp on the left side of the room.

“Hang on a sec,” Ty said. I rolled my eyes and stopped in place.

“Yeah?”

“Come here and take a look,” said Ty. “If you want any of this food, it’s yours.”

I came in here bristled and ready to fight him, and he was gonna give me food. Again. “If it’s still good, I’ll take all of it,” I said. “Thanks.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s here?”

I shook my head. “I’m not picky.”

Ty nodded and started loading containers back into the refrigerator. “Might as well let someone eat it, right?” When all of the food was put away, he stretched his wings out and yawned, walking toward the front door. “It’s gonna be a long night prepping the ship. Maybe I’ll get to sleep sometime tomorrow.”

I sighed. Was it right for me to be so pissed at him? He probably didn’t have any idea of the socially awkward beast he’d awoken in me yesterday. “What are you getting deployed for?”

Ty shook his head. “Not supposed to say. All I can tell you is that it’s indefinite. Could be a week, could be months before I’m back.”

Suddenly I felt a little less happy about him leaving. “So this might be the last time I see you?”

He nodded. “Yup, might be.” He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, but paused before he walked out the door. “I just thought of something. Could you do me a huge favor?”

Considering that the last two things Ty had done for me were drag me to a rave and make me suddenly develop a crush on one of my best friends, I was a little wary. Maybe the third time was the charm? I decided to humor him. “Sure, what’s up?”

“How good are you at taking care of pets?”

I shrugged. “Never had one.”

Ty deflated a bit. “Would you be interested in learning how?”

“I guess.”

“Sweet! Follow me.” Ty led me up the ramp toward his room. As we approached the doorway, I started to pick up a strange smell—earthy, a bit stale, with faint hints of pungent smoke lingering on the air because... of course he did that. I stepped through the threshold and expected complete disarray, given everything I knew about Ty so far. Laid back and spacey, he didn’t seem like the type to run a tight ship.

And yet he did. The floor was clean and free of junk. Several shelves took up space along the outer walls, and his bed made neatly—not a wrinkle on it. Aside from a little bit of clutter from the sheer amount of things he had stashed in the room, it was tidy. The smell, I deduced, was the result of the pet he’d asked me to take care of. The windows were the weirdest thing about the room. All of them were blacked out, completely impervious to the dim twilight glow outside.

An aquarium without any water in it stood on a short cabinet next to his bed, its interior bathed in the red glow of a heat lamp affixed to its top. The floor of the tank was covered in wood shavings, sand, and rocks. Perched atop one of the larger rocks directly under the lamp was a small tan lizard with spines running the length of its back.

“This is Sassafrass,” Ty began, ushering me toward the tank. “She’s a desert spineback lizard I found in the Badlands last year. I think she had a run-in with a predator because she was missing a hind leg and still bleeding when I found her, so I took her in.”

Sassafrass seemed to notice the two giant faces appearing on the other side of the glass and cocked her head to the side, blinking at us with beady eyes.

“How does she feel about living in a glass box if she was wild before? I asked.

“It took her a while to get used to it, but she wouldn’t be alive now if I didn’t save her. She didn’t warm up to me very fast, but she came around. She loves getting scratches now,” said Ty. He flipped the lid off the aquarium and reached in, gently plucking Sassafrass off her rock. She didn’t seem to mind, accepting the ride from what must have looked like the hand of a god to a creature her size. He brought her out of the enclosure and held her up to me on his outstretched palm, gently scratching the little spiky lizard behind her head.

Again, she blinked at me and cocked her head, her little black eyes staring blankly.

“Go on, she doesn’t bite,” Ty encouraged. “Hold out your hand and let her come to you.”

I didn’t have much experience with reptiles. Well, non-sentient ones at least, but conventional wisdom told me that they weren’t very interested in becoming friends with me. Hesitantly, I offered my hand.

She blinked at me again and turned herself to face away from me, clumsily rotating her body around and showing me the stump where her hind leg had been.

“Aw, she’s just shy.” Ty lowered her back into the tank. “You’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

“Are you sure I should be the one to take care of her if she doesn’t like me?” I asked.

“Diamond’s really the only one I would trust to come over and take care of her,” said Ty. “But Di doesn’t like lizards all that much. If you’d rather not, I can ask her to do it, but you’re going to be living here. It’d be a lot more convenient.”

I nodded. “Fair enough. Anything specific I need to know?”

“She needs to eat twice a day, so you can do that before you leave for work and when you get back. Feeding is a little tricky, I’ll show you how to do it.” He opened the door to the cabinet under the tank, pulling out a plastic bin that held several glass jars.

“What are those?”

“Ant farms,” Ty said, “Desert spinebacks eat almost nothing but ants. I used to have to go out and collect them myself, but I found a way to get queen ants a few months ago. Now I have her whole food supply right here.”

He spent a few minutes going over how to collect ants on a small moistened sponge and drop it into the lizard’s cage with a pair of chopsticks. As soon as the unlucky ants were lowered into the cage, Sassafrass went to work, picking the sacrifices off one by one with her long tongue. Upkeeping the ant colonies was another task to worry about, but aside from occasional replenishment of water and sugar, they didn’t require much work.

“If you run into any problems, you can hit Diamond up for help. She knows how to handle everything.” He wrote an address on a slip of paper and handed it to me. “Other than that, I think you’re all set. What time is it? Ten till ten? Yikes, I’m running behind.” Ty offered a handshake, which evolved into a quick hug and slap on the back that I didn’t bargain for. “If I don’t come back before you’re out of here, thanks for helping me out. I’ll see ya.”

“Good luck out there,” I said. He nodded and ducked out of the room. A small pang of finality hit me when I heard the front door click shut, and then I was alone.

He was pretty much the only friend I had here besides Silverstream, and now he was leaving. With a sigh, I turned off the lights in Ty’s room and headed up to mine.

“Swirl!” barked the gravelly voice I’d been so fortunate not to hear all night. The peace and quiet was nice while it lasted.

I set down the crate I was carrying and poked my head over Eidothea’s port side railing, and sure enough, there she was. Clipboard in hand, annoyingly small glasses perched high on the bridge of her beak in front of reddish-brown eyes. I’d recently learned that color was called ‘puce’. 'Puce' perfectly described how unpleasant they were to look at. Her pale brown coat was the color of muddy water. A short crop of purple hair hung out of the bandana tied around her head. Her writing hand held both a pencil and a lit cigarette between her claws.

“Yeah, Moraine?” I asked.

“Has inspection been completed?” She didn’t even take her eyes off her notes as she talked at me.

“Not yet. Oyster said he wanted to check the keel one more time after we bumped that sandbar last week. Once they’re done there, we’re all set.”

“Oh right, that,” she muttered, taking a drag from her dart. The implication was clear. She blamed me for steering the ship through a shallow delta and lightly scraping the bottom. At night. While she was on the navigation desk. “Any chance they’ll find damage that delays us?”

I answered with an eye roll, but she didn’t notice it. “No, the hull is fine.”

“You’d better hope so.” Moraine turned curtly and continued on her way down the dock. She stopped at a stack of crates I had left near the gangway to deal with later and shook her head, scribbling something down on her clipboard, and I felt a little pinch of annoyance in the back of my skull. It was standard procedure to double-check each other’s work, but to have her scrutinizing everything I’d spent all night working on with her well-rested eyes irked me.

I didn’t like Moraine. She liked me less.

I shook my head and turned back toward the crate I had been carrying—another thing she liked to bug me about. As the first mate, it wasn’t technically my job to lug cargo around, but there were only so many administrative duties to do before I wound up standing around and watching everyone else work. I liked pitching in and helping out when I could, and that was “unbecoming” in Moraine’s eyes, so I’d been told.

It was enough to make me grind my beak. I just had to put up with her until I could transfer to a new ship—whenever that happened. I lifted the crate and carried it the rest of the way to the cargo hatch, hopped down through the hole, and dropped it off for the cargo hold crew.

Maybe it wasn't so bad. Moraine was the only griff on the ship that I didn't like. I could deal, but it sucked that I had to deal with her more often than anyone else aside from Captain Virga.

I went back topside, ran through my mental checklist again, and breathed a sigh of relief. Aside from a few more crates that the crew was in the process of handling, we were ready. My brain was buzzing with the numbness of sleep deprivation, and soon I’d get to go below to my quarters and set up my hammock. I was about to go over to the last crates and assist the crew, but a smudge of bluish green in my peripheral vision caught my attention, coming in for a landing on the ship’s handrail. This hippogriff’s colors were much brighter than Moraine’s. More welcoming. But then again, I was biased toward this one.

“Di!” I shouted, running across the deck to meet her.

“Hey, you,” she greeted with a warm smile as she hopped down from the railing and reached out for a hug. Her mane was a little messy. When she pulled me close, she still smelled of that light staleness when you first wake up in the morning, a faint hint of sweat and linen on her fur. “Sorry I’m so late. I was scared I missed you.”

“Well hey, you made it,” I said, breaking the hug. “We’re running late anyway, so it worked out.”

“Good thing,” Diamond said. A sharp whistle called out from somewhere near the bow, signalling that Moraine had finished her check and was giving us the all-clear to get underway. That meant we had a couple of minutes before I'd be needed somewhere.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said, dropping a shoulder bag stuffed with something box-shaped on the ground. She undid the flaps and revealed to me a sight I thought I’d seen the last of for months.

“Cinnamon-Blasted Oat Munch?” I pulled the boxes out of her pouches and clutched them close to my chest. “Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

“You better hide that,” Diamond warned me. “Lots of hungry eyes on this ship.”

“From my cold, dead claws,” I growled through a grin. Di laughed. It made my smile feel fuller.

“Oh and one more thing.” She dug back into her bag again and pulled out a little square of metal I instantly recognized.

“My multi tool?” I took the tool from her and folded it open, revealing the pliers. A little bit of rust hid on the inside of the well-traveled tool. “Where did you find it?”

“Between my dresser and the wall,” Diamond said. “How long ago did you lose that thing?”

“At least a year,” I said, pulling its much newer and shinier replacement out of my uniform's front pocket. The new tool I’d bought had a couple of extra blades hidden in the handles and a better can opener than the old one, but the pliers were looser and the handles were too fat. I swapped the tools out, tucking old reliable into the pocket. “What would I do without you?”

Di snorted, “Not leave your stuff all over my room when you stay.”

“But it gives me an excuse to come back and find it.”

“Not like you needed an excuse.” Di rolled her eyes with a playful smirk.

I shrugged. “I like coming over, what can I say? You’re fun.”

With a quick laugh, Di changed the subject. “So, Greenfin Island, huh? They had to send you back there?”

“Yup,” I confirmed with a shrug.

“You won’t be gone for six months this time, will you?”

I answered with another shrug. “I dunno. They didn’t say how long we’d be deployed.”

Diamond sighed. “Of course they didn’t.”

I didn’t have much I could say to make her feel better, but I still tried. “I have a feeling that we’ll be back in a few weeks. Shouldn’t be too long. The orders seemed pretty straightforward.”

“Anything else you can say about it?”

I shook my head. “Gotta keep it hush-hush for now. There’ll be press releases out sometime soon though.”

“Well, it won’t be dangerous will it?”

I hated lying to her, but I shook my head. Pirate raids weren’t exactly the safest thing to be deployed over. “We’ll be fine,” I said. “Nothing we haven’t done before!”

Diamond smiled, but I could see the weariness in it. She was still worried. “I guess I better let you get back to it. Be careful out there, will you?”

I chuckled and gave her another hug. “I’ve got the best crew sailing to back me up. We’ll be fine.” I relished in her touch for a moment, enjoying her warmth. It was too short, though. When she pulled back, she left me wanting more.

It was a pattern with her.

When we separated, she turned away from me and spread her wings to leave. Watching her go made me sad, but then a thought occurred to me. We were heading out to sea, and the orders sounded like we were in for something more dangerous than usual. I wasn’t scared, but the outside chance of something happening to me spurred me to do something that the rational part of me knew was a bad idea.

“Hey, Diamond?” I said.

She folded her wings and walked back to me. “Yeah?”

Why am I doing this? “Have you, uh… you know.” I scratched the back of my head, the sentences not quite sewing themselves together properly.

“What’s up?” she asked. I searched her face, desperately hoping for a good sign to proceed. She seemed attentive, though I could see from her brow stitching that she probably knew where I was going.

Fortune favors the bold. Screw it. “Have you ever thought about getting serious?”

It wasn’t good. She got coy again. “I’m serious. You’re the goofy one.”

I blew a breath out through my nose. “Come on, you know what I mean. We’ve been doing this for what, going on two years now? I like you, I know you like me. Why aren’t we making it official?”

A faint blush colored her cheeks, and she averted her eyes. “You’re right. I guess... I don’t know why we haven’t. I mean, I’ve thought about it a little.”

“And?”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe?” I parroted.

“It’s just… we have a good thing now, don’t you think? It’s simple. I like it.”

“Why not make it better?” I asked.

Diamond sighed. “I don’t know. I like not being tied down. We can both just do our thing right now, sometimes we do it together, sometimes we don't.” She looked me in the eyes. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for more yet, Ty.”

I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath. It was better than an outright no, but it still didn’t feel great. “I won’t press you about it anymore. Just, think about it while I’m gone? Maybe?” I asked.

Diamond smiled. “I will. I promise.”

“Thanks.” I smiled back and pulled her in for one more quick hug. “I’ll write you when we get there.”

“You better!” Diamond shooed me off and took wing, lifting off the deck to return to the top of Mount Aris.

I started walking the direction I’d been before she showed up, but frowned when I got to the gangway. Several of the crew griffs were giving me stupid grins and snickering. Apparently we’d attracted some attention with our little conversation. “What are you buzzards staring at, get back to work!” One of them whistled at me and a chorus of “oooh!” rose up like we were in the school reef all over again. I was about to go over there and make them regret it, but a sudden gust of wind caught me in the side.

“Think fast!” Diamond shouted as she swooped in and planted a quick smooch on my cheek. Before I could react, she was already off, flitting away with a smirk on her face.

She always left me wanting more.

Greenfin Island wasn’t as pretty as I remembered it.

I was the last one to shuffle down the gangplank once we were moored at the docks. My sleep schedule was all messed up thanks to the all-night prep work before we left, so I got to spend most of the trip by myself, staying busy with chores around the ship while most of the crew slept. Taking inventory of powder magazines and food stores, cleaning cannons, lots of the fun stuff I got to do as an enlisted sailor, but with tons more paperwork to go with it. At least I didn’t have to swab the deck anymore.

The docks at Greenfin Base were longer than the ones at Mount Aris, but that was simply because there was more space available to work with here. Sheer cliffs and jagged rocks back home limited the scope of our base, but here there was a gentle, wide harbor with plenty of room to moor the ship and not have to worry about packing in to conserve space.

The docks all ran toward the back of the harbor, where the small port town of Aeolia welcomed weary sailors to the loving embrace of taverns, real beds, and non-galley cooking. As far as port towns went, it was fairly upscale. Having a navy base on site helped to keep it from turning into a haven for crime like so many others.

At night, long silences on the bridge practically forced me to think about things. Diamond was on my brain more often than she wasn’t, and for the first time in my life, I was starting to think that was a bad thing. When she crossed my mind lately, there was a new pang there that I hadn’t felt before. It made my chest actually hurt.

Our relationship was… what was it? I wanted to call it complicated, but the more I contemplated it, the simpler it sounded. We weren’t dating; we had both agreed that was the case. At the end of the day, we were friends, but sometimes after the day ended, we were a little bit more than that. Kind of.

It was simple and it worked—for me especially. Given that my job often took me away from home for extended periods of time, not having to worry about holding down a steady relationship granted me emotional flexibility that I enjoyed, and the freedom to explore other relationships. We had a great arrangement, but my stupid heart and my brain weren’t on the same page.

I wanted to go exclusive. The idea that we could have that occasional intimacy all the time made me feel all light and fluttery in my chest, but I knew Di would never go for it. She made it clear from the start that she didn’t want to commit to anything. She had her life, I had mine, and she wanted it to stay that way. Our worlds could be adjacent, maybe overlap a bit, but they would stay separate.

Regardless of how she answered my question, I could live with it. But that wouldn’t make it hurt less if she said no.

I took a deep breath of the salty air and let it out through my nose. Now that I was deployed, I was busy with other things that I could occupy my mind with. Like the crowd of crew griffs shuffling back and forth on the shoreline. The naval installation here was small, much less impressive than the labyrinth carved into the base of Mount Aris. A few square, free-standing stone buildings were clustered just off the beach. The Navy didn’t invest a lot in the style of the buildings at the base here. Behind those? That was where the party started.

I was technically off duty, so I kept going past the crew gathered on the beach and the navy buildings, making a beeline for Aeolia’s main square. It was twilight, and I knew that if I wanted to avoid eating at Eidothea’s galley, I needed to get to the markets before they shut down for the night.

As soon as I was in the town itself, the population around me got a lot more varied. A healthy number of zebras and parrots joined the mix in the narrow cobblestone street, the two main groups that lived here in addition to hippogriffs. The buildings lining the street were painted bright colors, housing an equally vibrant population within their walls. Greenfin Island had long been a rest stop along several trade routes through the South Sea. As most things had since being liberated from the Storm King, it had flourished in the last couple of years. Zebricans and Ornithians were the most common visitors, so they made up the largest numbers of permanent residents here aside from hippogriffs.

Everything took on flavors of the various species living here—which, for me, meant that the street food was amazing. It was here that I discovered the magic of Ornithian habanero peppers. And fish tacos. I was cutting it close, but I found my favorite street kitchen just before closing time.

The bright green parrot running the stand perked up when I arrived. “Weren’t you here last week?” he asked me.

“That I was,” I said. “I just couldn’t live without another Caliente taco.” The smell of roasting peppers was enchanting.

“Then you got here just in time,” said the parrot. “How many do you want?” I held up two claws, and he nodded, going to work on the grill, roasting peppers over fire along with the other ingredients in his signature Caliente tacos. Beans, rice, habanero pepper, and grilled salmon topped with a dollop of guacamole.

I paid and left with anticipation building. With these tacos, half of the fun was the flavor, and the other half was the heat. Diamond thought I was crazy when I told her that I was addicted to food that caused me pain, but she was the one missing out on the spice of life.

I took a stroll around the rest of the market square as I ate, admiring the scenery through bleary eyes since the peppers had lit my sinuses on fire. I was almost finished with my food when I heard my name yelled out from behind me.

“Hey, Ty!” said a voice I knew all too well. I turned around and was greeted by a tan griff with a big patch of fur missing from his chest. Powder Keg was the gunner of the Eidothea. “Have you been crying?”

I finished off the last of my taco and threw the wrapper away. “Habanero,” I said through the mouthful of invisible flames.

“We haven’t been here an hour and you already snuck off for tacos, sounds about right.” He laughed, and I joined him. “I still don’t know how you eat that stuff.”

“I’ve got refined taste. You wouldn’t understand,” I said with a shrug, wiping at my nose. “What’s up?”

“I’m heading over to The Mussel for some drinks,” said Powder Keg. “You want to come with? First round’s on me.”

I mulled it over for a moment. Given that this wasn’t entirely a hippogriff town, the ban on alcohol didn’t apply here. Technically, the navy didn’t allow us to drink when we were in town, but The Mussel was practically known as the navy’s watering hole anyway. Even the senior officers could be found there from time to time.

“I can’t turn down free booze,” I said. Powder Keg laughed, and we made our way down the street toward the bar.

The Mussel was large and roomy with a nightclub-style flavor. It wasn’t especially busy until our group arrived, considering that it was a Monday night. A few parrots, zebras, and hippogriffs were scattered around the room, each mostly keeping to themselves. Thumping, uptempo music played over the loudspeakers, but the dance floor in the center of the room was empty under the flashing, colored lights. While we crossed the room, my eyes lingered on a bright orange parrot sitting at a table with several others around her of assorted color. She was pretty, the kind of girl with an effervescence that drew attention to itself. Her eyes met mine for a brief second, and then we both looked away. I kept walking behind Powder Keg, and we settled in at the bar. True to his word, the gunner put bits down for the first round.

“So, what do you think of this whole mission?” Powder asked me as he pounded down a shot.

I followed his example with my own shot. ”Depends,” I said.

“I’m sure they gave you a more detailed briefing than we got,” said Powder. “They don’t just tell us to keep something hush-hush if there isn’t more to the story.”

I shook my head. “No, I’ve seen your orders. You have the exact same copy I got. Unless Captain Virga isn’t telling us something, we’re all just as clueless as each other. Speaking of which, have you seen the captain?” I asked. Powder Keg nodded. “Maybe it’s just the schedule they have me on, but I didn’t run into her the entire way here.”

“She’s been a little scarce,” said Powder Keg. “Mostly stayed in her quarters the whole time.”

I frowned. “That’s odd.” Maybe Powder Keg was onto something after all. Captain Virga rarely stayed in her quarters when we were at sea. If she was cooped up in there, something was important—more important than what the orders they’d given the rest of us said . “I guess we’ll find out what it is tomorrow at the briefing.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Powder Keg downed another shot.

We traded a few more rounds of small talk between shots, the details growing fuzzier the deeper into the shots we got. With each round, I found myself more and more pleasantly distracted by not thinking about Diamond.

I didn’t want to get out of bed. Rays of morning light shone through the window and landed on my face, so I had a dilemma: either lie here and be mildly annoyed by the faint glow through my eyelids, or get up and close the curtains so I could go back to sleep.

Wait. I wasn’t supposed to be in a bed. I was on Greenfin Island. I should have been on my hammock below deck on the Eidothea. We had a briefing this morning! My eyes shot open, and immediately my attention snapped to the bright orange parrot still asleep in the bed next to me.

She was pretty, even asleep and snoring with her tongue lolled out of her beak. Nicely done, drunk Ty. Unfortunately, I had no time for cute parrots. I needed to go. The alarm clock on the nightstand read oh-seven-thirty—half an hour before morning briefing. I could still make it on time. I started shifting myself toward the edge of the bed, but pressure on my chest stopped me. Her wing was draped across my torso. She muttered something in her sleep and pulled herself toward me, wrapping me up tight.

It felt nice, but I didn’t have time to feel nice right now. Her grip wasn’t very good, thankfully, so I tried again. I shimmied a bit to the right, freedom within my grasp, but then she stirred again. This time she picked herself up and flopped on top of my chest, pinning me to the bed.

Fantastic.

“Uh, hey? Good morning,” I said.

I got a snore in response. She was still asleep.

I poked her in the side. “Hey,” I said gently.

She groaned and hid her face from me, so I did it again. Her eyes opened slowly and searched around the room for a moment before they settled on me, our faces a mere inch apart.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Morning,” she muttered.

“Sleep well?”

“Mmmm, not enough,” she said, a goofy little grin crossing her beak.

So it was one of those nights. I racked my brain, trying to remember the details. I was at The Mussel last night. It was too typical for Powder Keg to get me to go on a bender the first night on deployment. I knew that it was difficult to stop me once I started. We did shots, and at some point I wound up on the dance floor. From there, the details got fuzzy, but I recognized her face as the one I’d made eyes at when we first got there. I must have asked her to dance when I was sloshed.

Crap. What was her name again?

Another glance at the clock confirmed that I was losing time. I needed to get this bird off me and get out the door, preferably before she pieced it together that I didn’t know who she was. That was always awkward. It was nice that parrots were so lightweight. Even though she had my arms pinned at an awkward angle, I was able to gently lift her off of myself without much trouble.

“I really need to go,” I said, trying to set her off to the side so I could scramble out of the bed.

She resisted, pushing back against me. “Can’t you stay a few more minutes?”

“I overslept already. I’d love to stay, but duty calls...” I nodded my head to the side a couple of times.

She blew a defeated sigh out her nose and rolled off, allowing me my exit. I hopped up and gave my wings a quick stretch, arching my back to wake my core muscles up. I’d be taking to the air to get there, so the last thing I needed was a wing cramp at altitude.

The bedroom I was in was small and cozy, the walls painted a rich shade of teal—kind of like Diamond, my brain added. I paused in my tracks for a second and looked at Orange Parrot Girl, a small twinge of guilt slicing through my gut. If I wanted to go exclusive with Di so bad, what the hell was I doing here?

I shook my head. There was nothing actually wrong with this, right? Diamond and I could sleep wherever we wanted. We were both technically single, after all, but something about this still felt wrong. All the more reason to get out of here asap.

The bed took up most of the room's floor space, the narrow paths around it barely wide enough for me to walk down. A small bathroom adjoined to it on the wall opposite from the exit. I could afford a minute to splash a little water across my face and freshen up, so I went there first.

A pale yellow wreck of a hippogriff looked back at me from the mirror, my mane in sad disarray. My wings needed a preening, stray feathers sticking out at odd angles. The cool water was a bit of a shock, but it washed some of the grogginess out of my eyes. I ran my talons through my mane, smoothing out some of the bed head. It wasn’t perfect, but I might be able to get away with it. Better than nothing. I raised a wing and started working on the loose feathers, and then was surprised when someone took the other wing.

“Allow me,” said Parrot Girl, plucking some feathers free with her bright red beak. I blinked at her. Sex was one thing, but preening? That was usually not part of the deal with one-night stands. What did I say to her last night?

A big red flag raised in my mind. This girl was clingy and forward. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be in a situation I couldn’t just back out of.

And I didn’t even remember her name. Still, her preening my other wing would save me a minute or two, so I didn’t decline the offer. I finished plucking my left wing at about the time she finished on my right. “Thank you,” I said, giving her a smile. One last check in the mirror confirmed that I wasn’t a slob anymore, so it was time to—

Hold it. I clutched at my neck. My pearl fragment was gone.

“Hey have you seen my shard?”

“Shard?” she asked.

“My necklace,” I clarified.

“Oh, you mean the kind that all of the hippogriffs wear?”

“Yeah. I can’t leave without it.” Not without getting murdered by the captain when I got to the base, at least.

“I might have,” she flashed me a coy smile and reached behind her back, producing my pearl shard in her wingtips.

“Oh good, I thought I lost it,” I said, reaching out, but she had other ideas, pulling the shard out of reach before I could grab it. So it was going to be a game. I didn’t have time to play it. “Alright, what do you want?”

The coy smile got coyer. “Come a little closer.”

I complied. “Are you gonna make me beg?”

“Just a little,” she breathed as she touched a wingtip to my chin and pulled me downward. She was petite, even for a parrot, barely tall enough for her crest feathers to touch my chin when we stood at full height, so we had to meet in the middle. I leaned to the side and locked my beak with hers. She kissed me deeply, and I returned the favor with a passable amount of enthusiasm. In the middle of the kiss, eyes still closed, I reached up and snagged my shard from her wingtip.

She came up for air after a few seconds. “Promise me you’ll come back soon, Hurricane.”

I had to fight the urge to blanch. I didn’t know her name, and she knew the wrong one for me. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing on my part for forgetting hers.

Regardless, I needed to get out of here. Now.

“Sure thing,” I said, dropping the shard over my neck. “We had fun, didn’t we? I’ll see you soon,” I lied. Or at least I hoped it was a lie. I snatched my uniform up off the floor next to the bed and threw it over my head as I left, not slowing down or looking back.

Another crisis averted, and I wouldn’t be late for the briefing after all. I took off once I was out of her house. The air was still cool from the night, but the first warmth of the sun wiggled its way through my fur. As I flew over the town, I ran through my mental checklist, which was quite short for today. I didn’t have anything to do at the briefing but fill a chair and listen, and we’d figure out the rest of the day’s plans after that. My best guess was that we’d load up and get underway to somewhere before the end of the day.

I flew high over the town, admiring the little city as it awoke for the day. The market square griffs were starting to open their stalls for the day, opening their windows and setting out their goods. Fresh fish, greens, apples, oranges—

Clementine! That was her name. Of course! She was small and bright orange, just like the fruit. It should have been obvious. How did I forget it? I was usually great with names, and here I’d just made one of the worst exits of my career.

I glanced back over my shoulder at her house as it shrunk away into the distance. It was probably for the best if we never crossed paths again. Drunken one-night stands where neither of us bothered to learn each other’s names were probably not a good place to start a relationship.

But then again, this wasn’t like the usual hookup where I just left in the morning and that was that. She seemed really into me. Like, scary amounts of interested. I wasn’t super familiar with how parrots approached the dating scene, but preening wasn’t something hippogriffs did unless we really really liked someone.

Did I lead her on last night? The details of the evening were lost to the rum. I couldn't be sure, but there was something wrong. Either she was just super clingy, or I gave her the wrong ideas about where we stood. The guilt hit stronger than before, enough to give me pause. Should I have gone back and made sure everything was cool between us?

I shook my head. I didn’t have the time, not today. I weighed the facts in my head and came to the conclusion that it was probably just her. I’d had enough hookups to know my way around them. Even drunk, I probably hadn’t promised her anything permanent. I resumed my flight toward the navy base, but I didn’t feel totally sound in my reasoning. The guilt remained, but it would just have to stay that way.

I touched down at headquarters in the nick of time. The largest of the cluster of slate-gray buildings with tiny windows held a small amphitheater with a stage in front. The room was packed and alive with chatter when I walked in. All of the crews from the five newly arrived ships were here. I found my crew grouped in the middle of the right edge and took my seat at the front, finding an open chair next to Powder Keg and Moraine. Ugh.

He shot me a sideways glance and smirked. “Have a good night?”

“You could say that,” I said, earning a chuckle from him.

The briefing started a few moments later. The call to stand at attention came, and at once every griff in the room rose in more or less perfect unison. The lights dimmed save for the stage lamps, and the left stage door opened. In stepped a tall, slender hippogriff, her coat bright red and her mane stark white, seasoned by the years.

“At ease,” said Commander Scarlet Waves, taking her position at the podium. Once the quiet commotion of us taking our seats had died down, she began her address. “Good morning, I hope you all have had a good night’s rest, because we are going to hit the ground running today.

“I’m sure you were a bit confused by the orders you received. We usually don’t withhold mission objectives from the crews, but this time things are a bit different. The details of this mission are secret, and what I tell you now will not be given to you in writing, so listen up!” Projectors lit the wall above the commander’s head, displaying a map of the South Sea. “On the evening of Wednesday, May 29th, a merchant vessel named Deliverance was about fifty miles northeast of Greenfin Island, sailing west with a load of grain from Zebrica—destination: Mount Aris. They were due for a midday arrival on Thursday, but never showed.”

Powder Keg nudged me, whispering something about how this was totally irrelevant. ‘Give us our orders and let us go,’ yada yada. I couldn’t quite make it out. Moraine, who was sitting on the other side of him, shushed him.

“A little after noon on Thursday,” Commander Waves continued, “Deliverance’s crew showed up here on Greenfin Island, picked up from lifeboats by a local fishing boat. One of them had a gunshot wound to the chest.” A few murmurs went through the room. “The crew all told the same story. The Deliverance had been sunk.” She paused for dramatic effect, letting the few murmurs in the room quiet down. “Deliberately. By pirates.”

That was the big surprise. From the way she began, I was expecting this to be a search and rescue mission, but now I could guess where the rest of this briefing was going.

This was a search and destroy mission.

The slide on the screen changed, showing two pictures. The first was a grainy, black and white picture of a large galleon with dark sails and a figurehead of a crudely carved eagle. Next to it was an equally grainy, colored portrait of a red parrot, decked out in gold bullion and obscuring part of his face behind a broadsword.

“After an extended hiatus, it appears one of our oldest friends is back in business. Those of you who have been here for a while will remember him, those of you who are newer, listen up. This is Captain Sternclaw, the reason you are all here right now. He’s had a long history of ransoming cargo ships and miraculously escaping justice, but it appears he’s dreaming a little bigger these days. Instead of commandeering ships and kidnapping crews, he’s sinking them. In addition to Deliverance, we have unconfirmed reports of two more merchant vessels that may have been attacked since the first. A threat like this cannot be left alone, so we’re putting a stop to it once and for all.”

Commander Waves took wing and hovered above the podium. “When a dog goes rabid, it’s time to put him down. Our mission is to find Captain Sternclaw and bring him to justice. Whether that means a short drop on a rope or a long drop to the ocean floor, it doesn’t matter. We will be amplifying our efforts to police our waters. In addition to regular patrols, our best ships will be sent on a specific detail to track and capture the pirate.”

I leaned forward in my seat. The best ships were being sent to hunt Sternclaw down, and Eidothea was one of the best ships sailing. Did that mean us? Were we getting sent on the special mission?

Chapter 8: Fortune Favors the Blades

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“Escort duty,” Powder Keg snorted, stuffing a bite of fish into his beak. “They pull us from our patrol route, make us come all this way, and stick us on escort duty. What a joke.”

I could understand him being upset. Of the five ships that got pulled from Mount Aris, only Derelict and Summation got put on the hunt mission. The remaining three were assigned to a less glamorous job: protecting merchant vessels by sailing along with them on their routes. I had hoped for the cool job as much as the next griff, but now that two days had passed, I was over any misgivings I had about the assignment.

The gunner, on the other hand, still hadn’t shut up about it. I just nodded my head along to his complaint and ate my pasta. I didn’t have the energy to tell him to can it, but somegriff else at the next table over sure did.

“If I have to hear you complain one more time, I’m hogtying you and throwing you overboard,” said Moraine, cupping her head in her hands.

“I could stand to go for a swim,” Powder Keg said with a smirk.

“Good luck getting back on board with wet wings,” Moraine muttered, turning away from us.

After that, Powder Keg was silent. I didn’t like Moraine, but she wasn’t all bad all the time.

The rest of the meal passed in dull silence, and while most everyone else was retiring below decks for the evening, I went topside and took a quick walk to inspect the deck as I started my night shift. Everything was in order, so I climbed the ladder to the bridge.

“Captain Virga,” I said, closing the door behind myself. “Didn’t expect to see you here, ma’am.”

“Finished with your rounds?” asked the captain. She was sitting at the navigator’s desk, eyes transfixed by a glowing crystal sitting on the tabletop.

“Yes, ma’am, everything’s in order. Something wrong with the cube?”

“Yeah,” said the Captain. “It turned red about an hour ago and locked itself up tighter than a Saddle Arabian whorehouse. I’ve been fiddling with it but I can’t get it to do anything.”

I crossed the bridge and joined her in gazing dumbfounded at the bright red crystal. These were a fairly new addition to navy ships, allowing instant communication with headquarters through a magic channel. At least that was the theory. Apparently the enchanters who made them weren’t the best at their jobs. The cubes were notoriously unreliable, often to the point that we operated without instant communications, like the old days.

“You think you can figure it out while you’re on watch?” asked the captain.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug. I’d become fairly proficient at fixing the cube when it went down. “Do you have the instruction book?”

A heavy book as thick as my arm slapped down on the table. “Go crazy,” said Captain Virga, rising from her seat. “I hope you can figure it out. I can’t hardly see what I’m doing with that thing.”

I nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The captain nodded back at me and made for the door. “Have a good watch, Lieutenant.”

The first order of business for an overnight watch was caffeine. My sleep schedule had finally stabilized after my escapade in Aeolia, but I would still need plenty of tea to make it through the night. I offered to make some for Hyperia, the helmsgriff on duty, but she declined. I started up the small stove in the corner of the bridge and set a kettle of water on for tea.

While the water heated, I went back to the communications cube and picked it up. The block of crystal hummed faintly with enchantments, the slight buzz of the energy from it radiating through my talons. I consulted the manual and found the section on troubleshooting, which told me to hold my claws at two very specific points on its surface.

A question popped up. Reset? I did that, and the light faded from the cube, turning it into a simple chunk of dead, transparent rock. That lasted a few seconds, and then it came back to life. The enchanted hum returned, lighting it up.

The typical prompt for a passcode came up. I entered it. The side of the crystal facing me changed, covering itself in letters laid out like a typewriter. The top face glowed red, showing me a short backlog of transmissions from headquarters. I loved it when the cube problems were simple.

I wrote a quick message to headquarters confirming that we were up and running and sent it off, the device displaying a little symbol of an envelope whizzing off the edge of the crystal when I did. I then checked the backlog, first looking at the weather forecast. A cold front advancing from the south would probably overtake us around dawn, which meant to me that we could expect a stronger tailwind and rougher seas. I needed to keep an eye on the sky for that front so I’d know when to change the orientation of the sails. Routine stuff.

The second message was a little more concerning. Another of the escorters, Itroscia, had been silent for twelve hours, long enough to raise alarms at headquarters. Alerts about ships going unresponsive were routine just because the cubes sucked, but the last known location caught my attention. I checked the coordinates against our own route, and sure enough, it was straight ahead of us, near an area of jagged, dangerous rocks called The Blades.

Had they run up on the rocks? It happened to Kraken’s Beak a few months ago, so that was certainly a possibility, but I hadn’t heard of any storms in that area in the last day. I trusted that our crews would be able to steer clear of The Blades in calm weather, so that didn’t sound likely.

Was it the pirates? I felt a little pit of trepidation open in my gut when I thought of that, but I dismissed it. Last I heard, the hunting crews were working on a tip that took them far away from us entirely. They were following a trail of evidence, so that meant we were probably in the clear up here—I hoped.

I shook my head. It was probably just their cube acting up. Nothing to worry about.

It took me less than ten minutes to get the communication cube up and running, just long enough for the water to boil. I steeped a bag of black tea in a metal cup and checked our course on the compass while I did so. Our heading was zero-three-two; north-northeast, exactly where we needed to be. A visual check confirmed that we were still running alongside our mate, the silhouette of the merchant ship dotted with a couple of dim red formation lights visible out the starboard windows, a few hundred yards away.

Escort duty wasn’t very different from our usual regimen of sailing around and not doing much else, only this time our route was much straighter and we had a merchant vessel always within sight of us. Mother of Pearl was the ship we were tasked with guarding for the last couple of days, and we were nearing the end of our run with them. In a day or so, we’d reach the limit of our jurisdiction and release them to their voyage up the Celestial Sea to their eventual destination at the port of Manehattan in Equestria.

I headed aloft to the poop deck, where our signal light was mounted. I aimed the light toward Mother of Pearl 's silhouette and flashed a quick status check message to them, flipping the shutters open and closed. Hopefully whoever was on watch on the merchant vessel was awake.

‘Status check,’ I flashed.

I waited a few seconds. No response.

‘Status check,’ I repeated.

A few more seconds and a little light began blinking on the merchant ship, a quick sequence of short and long flashes. ‘Normal,’ it said in signal code.

I looked down the ship. Aside from the lookout, I was the only one up here. Our lookout was pretty new, a hippogriff named Blue Note, despite the fact that his coat was purple. Bluesy was cool, so I knew I could get away with being slightly unprofessional.

‘Good business, little bro, just checking,’ I signaled.

It was a small departure from procedure—very inconsequential, but it felt nice. I was about to head back down to the bridge when I saw the light on the Mother of Pearl blinking again. ‘Big thanks, big dog,’ said the light.

I smiled. These were my people.

The rest of the night went by like any other, but this time I had a friend in whoever was on watch on the merchant ship. We spent a little bit of time relaying messages to each other, slipping little jokes in or sending our usual status checks in jargon.

Around daybreak, the jokes ceased. The last message I got from them was: ‘Watch change. Peace.’ And then it was back to business as usual, the status check responses turning back into ‘Normal.’ Just like normal.

I was getting tired around then, and it wouldn’t be long before I could go below decks and sleep. I didn’t feel as tired as I usually did around this time of the morning. Maybe having something to occupy the mind was all I needed to make it through.

Moraine was the first relief crew member to show up. She caught me right in the middle of a yawn when she opened the door. “Morning,” I greeted her through the end of the yawn.

“Good morning,” she returned curtly. “Anything break?”

“Just the cube. I fixed it though.”

Moraine rolled her eyes. “If it goes down again today, I’m giving it a float test.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said, rising from the navigation desk with a stretch. My eyes burned, and I was ready to go knock out for a while.

“Hold it, Swirl.” Moraine stopped me just short of the door. I turned around to see her peering out the starboard window. “I think I saw something while I was walking in. Bring me the glass.”

You could have just as easily gotten it yourself, I grumbled silently. She snatched the glass out of my claws and leveled it, leaning forward.

“Take a look. Two o’clock, on the horizon.” Moraine passed me the spyglass, and I followed her directions, scanning for anything besides empty water.

Smoke. A faint plume of it way out in the distance, barely visible. How Moraine had spotted it without a telescope, I had no idea, but there it was. Immediately, my heart skipped a beat. The missing ship.

“We need to investigate that,” I said. “Headquarters reported a missing ship in this area earlier.”

“And you didn’t tell me that immediately, why?”

“We get several of those a week. It’s always the cubes. I didn’t think it was important.”

Moraine groaned and wiped at her forehead. “Whatever. Signal the merchants. Tell them to drop behind us and follow close.” she said, crossing to the wheel.

I nodded and left the bridge, hopping up one level to the poop deck and the lantern. Mother of Pearl copied the message on the first send, and I nodded to myself. A gust of wind blew across the deck, drawing my attention toward the sky. A long, gray arc of clouds was approaching behind us from the south. The cold front.

Timing was never the weather’s strong suit. Still, rain or shine, we had a job to do. A few sailors had come to the deck to do morning chores, and I yelled to them. “Battle stations!” Since Moraine was taking charge in the wheelhouse, I headed below decks to alert the captain and rouse the rest of the crew.

I spent the next hour on standby at the signal beacon, keeping Mother of Pearl up to speed on what we were doing. My suspicions from last night confirmed themselves as we slowly closed the distance toward the mysterious plume. The horizon morphed from a flat line to a serrated saw—The Blades. Anticipating the approaching wind shift, we took the sails in as we approached the rocks. The last thing we needed was to get blown into the rocks and flay the hull.

We were on motorized drive going forward. The steam engine on board didn’t get but occasional use, so we had to start it from cold. The ship slowed to a halt for a few minutes while the small boiler built a head of steam. Slowly but surely, the water below the stern began to churn and froth. A plume of coal smoke began puffing out of a tall, skinny smokestack near the stern, and the Eidothea eased forward.

We were close to the outer reaches of The Blades when Moraine stuck her head up from the bridge. “Tell the merchants we’re stopping and then come down to the bridge.”

Once both ships were brought to a halt, I headed down one deck and found a bustling scene on the bridge. Captain Virga had taken over as the helmsgriff, and Moraine was on the navigator’s desk, busying herself with drawing out routes on a map.

“First Mate, I need you to get a flight team together,” said the captain. “We can’t lead the merchants through the rocks, and we can’t leave them alone either. Send scouts to see what the fire is, and then we’ll reassess. Dismissed.”

I saluted the captain and left the bridge, immediately starting on my task as I descended the ladder to the main deck. “Alright, listen up!” I shouted, earning the attention of the dozen or so crew standing outside. “I need five volunteers to go fly out and see what the smoke is. Show of hands, who wants to go?”

It was nearly unanimous, all but a couple of the griffs raising a hand to the sky. I felt a little swell of pride while I chose five at random from the crowd. “You, you, you, you, and you. Take weapons just in case. Talk to the gunner about getting swords. I want you in the air in three minutes!”

The air team saluted and hustled down to the gun deck to meet with Powder Keg. I returned to the bridge, this time armed with a question of my own.

“Flight team will be out in three minutes, Captain,” I announced as I entered, shutting the door behind me. “Should we start building an action plan now?”

Captain Virga nodded and stepped out from behind the wheel, taking her bicorne off and revealing a short crop of crimson hair that stood at attention in the absence of a hat. She was the tallest of the three of us, having a slight height advantage over me. She placed her hat on the navigator’s desk carefully, distracting Moraine from her chart work. “The way I see it, we have three possible outcomes. The first and most likely is that the smoke is just some grass or a bonfire somewhere, and we can go on as we were.

“If there is a ship in distress on the other side of the rocks, we have a very big problem holding off the stern. We’re much less flexible if we’re dragging a big, clunky cargo ship with us wherever we go. Are there any passages they could fit through nearby, Moraine?”

The second mate shook her head. “None within thirty miles.”

“Keep working on that. Check it again,” said Captain Virga. “But in that case, we will have to make a choice based on urgency. We can either mark their location with the cube and leave it for someone else, or we can go up thirty miles to find a way through The Blades.”

Outside the windows, the flight team sprinted across the deck and hurtled over the side, soaring into the air in formation. Based on how close the smoke plume looked now, it would only take them a few minutes to return with intel. It couldn’t have been more than a mile or two away, a jet-black column of smoke rising into the air. It almost looked like a volcanic eruption I saw when we were sailing past the Dragon Lands a few months back, though the color was darker. Whatever was happening over there didn’t look like a natural fire.

“What if it’s urgent?” I asked. “Like, life and death if we don’t get there asap?”

The bridge went silent as Captain Virga and Moraine mulled over my question. After a few moments, Moraine spoke up. “Our orders are to stay with the merchants.”

“But look at that smoke plume!” I argued, pointing out the starboard window. “That’s way more smoke than any bonfire I’ve ever seen. If I were to guess, someone’s in big trouble over there. Are we just going to leave them hanging?”

“And risk leaving them to get attacked?” Moraine countered. “If anything happens to Mother of Pearl while we leave it alone, we can expect dishonorable discharges all around. Maybe even a court-martial. I say we stick to our orders. The merchants stay with us no matter what.”

I felt my hackles raise. "Even if it gets someone else killed."

Moraine scoffed. "Our orders are clear."

“Our mission is to protect creatures from all threats. Does that not extend to whoever is burning out there in the middle of The Blades?”

“And what?” Moraine asked. “You advocate leaving the ship right behind us to the wolves to go chasing after a lost cause?”

A vein popped in my forehead. “Coward,” I snarled.

Before Moraine could jump out of her seat to escalate, the captain intervened, stepping between us. “Both of you will stand down, now. The last damn thing I need right now is my lieutenants fighting over nothing!” Captain Virga marched to the stern end of the bridge, taking her place at the helm. “The decision is mine to make and mine alone. Typhoon, go take a lap and make sure the crew is prepared for any eventuality. Go.”

I left the bridge and only remembered to breathe once I had gotten to the bottom of the ladder. If I wasn’t sure before, I was now. As soon as we returned to port, I was putting in for a transfer even if it dropped me back to being a regular sailor. As much as I loved this ship and my crew, I couldn’t take any more of Moraine. The sooner I got away from that insufferable hag, the better.

A hippogriff screech caught my attention off the starboard side, and I watched with anticipation as the scout flight returned to Eidothea. They landed midship, just in front of me.

“What’d you find?” I asked.

The leader of the flight, Hydro, removed his goggles. “It’s a shipwreck, sir. Looks like one of ours. There’s a big oil slick on fire and a bunch of hippogriffs in the water.”

I blinked. “Wait, hippogriffs?”

Hydro nodded. “That's what we saw.”

“Good work,” I said, giving Hydro a fist bump. “You can go back to your usual posts for now.”

That was… huh. Hippogriffs didn’t just go overboard. Our shards gave us the ability to transform into seaponies, so why were the sunken ship’s crew not using them?

It was a question better speculated with more heads. I rushed back to the bridge, deciding to put the quarrel with Moraine on hold for now. “Captain!” I announced. “Flight just got back. It’s Itroscia. She’s sunk and her crew is in the water.”

“Sounds like they’re in for a long swim,” said Captain Virga. She didn’t seem worried, for the obvious reason. “Moraine, message headquarters and mark the location for—”

“They’re not seaponies,” I interrupted. “Hippogriffs are in the water.”

“What?” The captain rushed out from behind the wheel. “They didn’t transform?”

“The flight leader said they were all hippogriffs,” I confirmed.

Captain Virga took a second to mull it over and started pacing the length of the bridge. “What kind of defense measures does Mother of Pearl have on board, again?” she asked.

“Eight cannons, not a lot. Maybe enough to fend off a small attack,” said Moraine.

“Dammit,” the captain spat. “Give me a moment.” She went silent and continued pacing, her face tight with concentration. She stole occasional glances out the window at the smoke plume.

Moraine and I sat and stood in our respective places in awkward limbo, waiting on an answer from the captain. Seconds ticked by, and I grew more and more antsy with every passing moment. My mind flicked to the crew on the other side of the rocks, treading water in bodies not built for swimming. Right now, seconds were precious. A couple of minutes passed before I couldn’t take any more and blurted out, “We need an answer, Captain.”

She stopped in place and wheeled on me. “Well, I have one. We’re going with your play, Typhoon. Signal the merchants, tell them to ready their cannons and hunker down until we return. Navigator, find me the shortest route through The Blades.”

Moraine didn’t have an objection, to my surprise. She went to work on the charts without a word, and I did likewise, heading up to the lantern to send a message to Mother of Pearl.

‘Emergency. Ship sunk. Crew in jeopardy. Attempting rescue. Ready defenses. Hunker down until return.’ I signaled.

‘Good copy, good luck,’ came the reply, delayed by a few seconds.

The steam engines chuffed back to life, and Eidothea slowly eased forward. I was slightly nervous now for more than one reason. The cold front was approaching closer, jagged clouds on the leading edge spanning the whole horizon like the jaws of a monster the size of the world, ready to clamp down on us. Navigating a dangerously narrow channel with strong winds approaching was a fast recipe for getting blown into the rocks and sunk. Or ambushed.

I pushed the thought out of my mind. The hunting ships were nowhere near, so the likelihood of us getting attacked was remote. It was probably just a navigational mishap like with Kraken’s Beak. Everything was fine.

But that didn’t explain why the crew didn’t transform.

I hopped down from the signal light and took note of the chatter among the sailors. The information was spreading, so I needed to get a head start. “Everygriff, listen up! We’re going into search and rescue mode as soon as we’re through the rocks. All griffs not helping us navigate, go below decks and ready the medical supplies! Get side netting ready and bring every life jacket we have to the main deck. Let’s go!”

While the rest of the crew scrambled to follow orders, I followed them below deck. I desperately hoped that this wouldn’t be necessary, but everything about what we were heading into seemed wrong. If we were going in, we needed to be ready on all fronts.

The gun deck was a cramped, musty space that smelled strongly of sulfur, the ceiling barely tall enough to stand at full height. Given the largely peaceful nature of the seas in the couple of years since Eidothea was launched, the gun deck was ironically the quietest of the three lower decks, often doubling as lounge space. I silently hoped that wouldn’t change today.

“Powder Keg!” I called.

“Yeah?” he answered from near the bow. He popped his head up from behind a cannon and stood, making his way toward midship where I stood, craning his neck down a bit to clear the support beams in the ceiling. “I don’t get visits from you all that much. What’s all this I’m hearing about a shipwreck?”

“Itroscia is sunk in The Blades. We’re attempting search and rescue.”

“The Blades?” he asked. He reached through one of the gun ports and propped open its cover, revealing a view of a large rock wall passing the edge of the ship. We were in the strait now. “Well shit. I have a buddy on that ship,” said Powder Keg. “Is the crew alright?”

“We hope so. Just in case things go south, we need the cannons ready.”

Powder Keg grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He let out a screech to get the attention of the rest of the gun deck crew, who were lounging about the space. “Get up, you lazy sacks! It’s showtime. Load the cannons and roll ’em out!”

“I don’t think we’ll need them,” I said. “Better safe than sorry, I guess.”

Powder Keg cackled. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

I chose not to respond to that. “Just be ready for firing orders if they come.”

“Can do!” I left the gun deck as Powder Keg launched into a series of joy-filled commands to his subordinates. I wished I could be happy for him to get a chance to use his cannons for something other than practice.

I returned to the main deck as we completed a hairpin turn, avoiding a rock shaped like a gigantic ace of spades. I could see ahead of us the rocks gave way again to open water, though the horizon held more of the dangerous outcroppings. A wide strait in the middle of The Blades, right where the smoke plume was coming from. A perfect place for an inexperienced captain to get cocky and make a mistake. We passed the spade rock close on the port side, and finally, the source of the smoke came into view.

The ocean was on fire. A great pool of black stained the surface of the water, bright orange flames licking at the expansive smudge and giving rise to the dense, dark plume of smoke. Oil. I could see no other signs of wreckage from the distance. I flew up to the lookout’s nest for a better vantage point.

“Let me see your spyglass,” I said to him as I landed. Bluesy was watching the fire intently with his telescope, so much so that he yelped in surprise and nearly dropped it.

He eyed me for a second, plumage fluffed out and a faint redness in his cheeks. “Sure,” he said, offering it to me. I took it and focused on the water around the flames. Sure enough, there was wreckage. A widely scattered field of debris littered the water, and I could see little smudges of color around it. Some were clinging to the pieces of debris, others treading water and struggling to hold their heads above the surface.

Why were they not transforming? What happened to their shards? I rubbed mine between my claws. Was something here disrupting their magic?

Rescue teams formed from the crew members on deck. The same group of five that flew the scouting mission took to the sky to spot survivors from the air, and another eight transformed into seaponies with bright pink flashes as they jumped overboard. They would be able to start the rescue process while Eidothea lumbered the remaining half-mile at the speed of molasses.

I hopped down to the main deck. The shards were still working for us. My nerves grew a little more restless. “Steady as she goes, griffs,” I said to the crew as I walked laps around the main deck.

Finally, at that moment, the cold front overtook us. The wind shifted as the arcus cloud passed overhead, darkening the sky. A few droplets of rain mixed in with the spray it kicked up. The temperature dropped sharply, and the ship groaned as it fought the wind’s force.

We all collectively ignored it, anxiously eyeing the wreck ahead. There were still no signs of Itroscia on the surface, only random bits of splintered wood and other debris floating among the stricken crew.

“Here comes one!” Bluesy shouted, pointing down toward the front of the ship. I rushed to the bow and sure enough, an unaccompanied purple hippogriff was swimming toward us. The dive team must have missed them when going for the main group closer to the wreckage. One of the crew still onboard took initiative and dove over the railing, transforming into a seapony a split second before hitting the water.

Commotion erupted from the port side a few moments later. Sailors hoisted the first survivor and her rescuer over the edge of the ship, where she collapsed in a gasping heap on the deck.

I rushed to her side and began assessing her for wounds. She had a number of cuts and scrapes, her coat matted with blood and oil. One of her hind legs was cocked at an unnatural angle, broken above the pastern, but she was okay. Nothing immediately life-threatening.

“What’s your name?” I asked. Somegriff passed me a canteen and I offered it to her. She was dazed, her eyes taking an unnaturally long time to focus in. Once she found the water, she snatched it from my claws and drank greedily. I let her have a couple of pulls, but then took it back from her. “Easy, you’ll make yourself sick.”

The hippogriff sputtered and coughed. “Berry,” she gasped, collapsing back onto the deck. “Berry Breeze.”

“What was the name of your ship?”

“Itroscia,” Berry Breeze croaked, confirming our assumption. She was showing signs of shock, her rapid, gasping breaths shaking her entire body. Her eyes once again lost focus, staring off somewhere into the sky above us.

“Someone get some towels,” I ordered, and a crew member disappeared from the huddle around Berry. “Stay with me, you’re alright. We’re gonna take you back to land.”

No response. Her breath hitched in her throat, and tears streamed out of her eyes.

“Hey hey hey, everygriff back up, give her some air.” I shooed the crowd back. “We’ve got a lot more survivors coming, I want you all ready to help them aboard.” Slowly, they dispersed.

“I’m here!” announced a voice from above the commotion. I breathed a sigh of relief as a pale pink hippogriff on the shorter side parted her way through the crowd—Lieutenant Cardia, Eidothea’s medical officer. Our rescued griff was in good hands. “I’m here. You’re safe. Take deep breaths and count to one hundred,” said Cardia to Berry.

I took a step back to let the good doctor work. “Alright, back to your posts!” I shouted. “We’re about to have a lot more coming aboard!” The sailors did as they were ordered, and the journey toward the wreckage continued. I pulled out my spyglass to keep searching for survivors, but just as I did, I felt another particularly cold rush of wind from behind and looked toward the stern.

A fog bank was bearing down on us, and it was then that my nervousness began transitioning into fear. As the mist rushed over The Blades and overtook us, I silently cursed the weather. It was now going to be harder to rescue the sailors and even harder to make our way out of here safely. The mist rolled overhead and obscured the field of survivors, the fire on the sea surface lighting the fog with a sickly orange glow.

A field of survivors. Hippogriffs in the water. It still made no sense that they weren’t transformed. I looked over my shoulder at Berry Breeze, noting that her shard was missing. That would explain why she was still a hippogriff, but the rest of Itroscia’s crew? I could buy that she lost hers during the sinking, but surely there would be at least one of them somewhere that they could have passed around to save themselves. A wave of unease reverberated through my gut. Something was up, and I needed to get to the bottom of it. I crossed the deck and returned to the survivor. Cardia had made quick work of her injuries, the larger cuts already bandaged while she finished the process of stabilizing Berry Breeze’s hind leg.

“How’s she doing?” I asked.

“She’s had a rough go of it. Looks like she’s going through some mild shock. Broken leg, lacerations, a couple of burns,” said Cardia. She bit off the bandage and finished wrapping the broken limb as tightly as she could manage. “I’m going to need help carrying her down below.”

I shook my head. “You stay up here. There’s a lot more coming aboard. I’ll get her moved.” Cardia nodded, steely resignation in her eyes, and continued with her work.

I turned my attention to Berry Breeze. Her breaths were shallow and rapid, but she had stabilized a bit, and she no longer had the thousand-yard stare. She needed to recover, but the need for answers carried equal weight. “Hey Berry, do you feel like you can talk to me?” I asked.

She hesitated, but locked her eyes on me and nodded.

“Good. What happened to your shard?”

Berry gasped and clutched at her chest, feeling around for the necklace that wasn’t there. “They took it!” she shouted, her hysterics coming back. “They took them all!” Her breathing quickened sharply as she squirmed around.

“Ty! This isn’t the time for an interrogation,” Cardia protested.

“Whoa hey, easy. It’s okay,” I assured her, ignoring Cardia. I feared the response to my next question more than I feared her. “Who are they?”

Berry Breeze’s eyes came back into focus, and she locked with mine. “They’re going to take yours too.”

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly full of sand. “What? Who is coming to take my shard?”

Berry Breeze thrashed, her broken leg kicking Cardia in the beak as she tried to scramble herself upright. “It isn’t safe here!” Berry shouted. I grabbed her and pinned her down to the deck, struggling against her strength. She kept struggling, tears streaming down her face freely. “What are you doing? Let me go!” she screamed. “They’re going to kill us all!”

“I need help here!” I called over two other sailors, and they helped me restrain the frantic hippogriff. “Let’s get her below deck. She’s not herself.”

A rushing sound split the air open. I looked up just in time to see a cannonball smash into the mainmast, ripping through the crow’s nest. I only had time to dive out of the way myself before the splintered remains of the tip of the mast fell to the deck right where I was standing.

Chapter 9: I wonder what he's up to...

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“Silverstream! Dinner will be ready in ten!” Sky Beak’s voice was muffled through the door. If I’d had music playing, I don’t think I would have heard him.

“Ok, Dad!” I yelled, assuming he’d hear me. Tonight was lobster night. I missed the days when Mom and Dad used to combine their cooking powers. Mom made the kelp fritters, Dad’s specialty was the lobster. My stomach rumbled at the thought of my favorite meal from days gone bye. Since Dad and I moved to Mount Aris, we rarely ate all together as a family.

Tonight, we only had half of the equation. Terramar was with Mom tonight, so it was just me and Dad for dinner. Lobster without kelp fritters. I was hungry, but I had something more important on my mind: math.

“Add three, carry the two…” I muttered under my breath, tapping a talon against my beak. The personality test results required a lot of calculation to get to the meat of the matter. Somewhere in the mix of numbers and letters spread out on the page before me resided the truth about Gallus.

Math always got a bad rap in schools, but I loved it. I enjoyed seeing patterns and figuring out how things worked with just some symbols on a piece of paper.

Sweat pooled on my brow as I worked, my brain running at full capacity. I was nearing the answer. Just a few more computations before I would have a picture of Gallus in rock-solid, quantifiable data. I took a glance over at the instructions one more time to ensure that I was adding and subtracting the right numbers and checked my work. The mess of values and variables condensed down into just three.

It was done. Centering came first, and he scored low: 24, firmly in the introvert category. That made sense, considering his closed off and shuttered nature. I smiled. The test was accurate after all!

For the next trait, Flexibility, he scored 53, just barely falling into the Adaptable category. Again, it made sense. He was pretty adaptable, but he also liked his routines when he could establish them.

The last metric featured a high score of 70, tipping him to the Rational side of the Rational/Emotional scale. Again, it made sense. Gallus was a thinky sort of guy. I’d only ever seen him get emotional in the middle of big moments, like when he confessed to us about his lack of family during the winter holidays.

Or on Saturday.

I scooted back from my work and rubbed my eyes, blinking hard. I had so totally focused on my work that the room was dark now, all of the day’s light gone from the windows. It must have been a couple of hours since I first sat down and looked at what I was doing. My stomach rumbled, but that didn’t matter. Now that I had my data, I had work to do.

So Gallus was I-R-A: Introverted-Rational-Adaptable. I could work with that. My attention turned from the papers scattered across the floor to the imposing figure of the easel, standing in the shadows. It knew I was coming for it next.

The colors on my palette were still wet from the painting session over the weekend, though what remained was mixed together and dried in a few spots where it had been spread more thinly. I elected to clean it and start anew, using a knife to scrape the old paints into the trash. A fresh perspective needed fresh paint.

With my palette refilled and fresh colors ready to go, I wheeled the easel out from the corner and put it in the center of the floor. I took a deep breath and took in the canvas, the lines from my previous attempt waiting to be joined by new friends, ready to be completed.

Introverted. Rational. Adaptable. What colors represented that? Hmmm…

Seconds ticked by with my brush hovering over the palette. My eyes darted from color to color, searching for a complement to the yellow, blue, and pink stripes already on the canvas.

Green? I considered it for a moment and shook my head. It was directly between blue and yellow on the color wheel—not complementary to either. It didn’t even correspond to the subject matter. I didn’t envy him, nor was he envious of me. It was just a random choice, but I had already started the painting with randomness! It didn’t need more of that.

I consulted the literature that came with the personality test, flipping through the pages until I found the information on Gallus’s personality type.

I-R-A personality types are resilient, independent thinkers who love an intellectual challenge, the pamphlet read. They are very focused on what’s real, and tend to be closed off—both in their resistance to trying new things and the concealment of their truest feelings.

I started losing focus as I read deeper into the writeup, even though it didn’t continue that much longer. The literature was more concerned with happy little icons doing average, everyday things than it was with providing the insight I needed. It made sense, given that the personality test had only cost me ten bits at the drugstore.

“I already know all of this!” I shouted, dropping the booklet on the floor.

I looked down at my brush and back up at the canvas. Did I really need any more? I knew Gallus. I knew him pretty well, all things considered! I could easily assign colors to those traits I knew about him. I could finish the painting right now. I could make it look good. An abstract painting could take liberties—maybe the finished result wouldn’t be what I envisioned, but that was okay. Nogriff would ever know.

Introversion would be a muted color. Pastel green? These core personality traits would fill some areas on the canvas, background colors that I probably should have laid down before I painted the first stripes a few days ago. Rational screamed a deep red, maybe with a little bit of orange mixed in? I could blend the two a bit, maybe do a three-way gradient once I’d picked a color for adaptability?

I swirled some colors together until I felt satisfied with the shade of green, but paused when I brought it up to the canvas. Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t place a claw on it. Was it the colors? Sure, green blended into red wasn’t the most pleasing combo, but something else bothered me. Several minutes ticked by as my brush danced over the palette, never settling on a color or a mixture to begin. I slowly grew more frustrated at my indecisiveness until I took a step back and looked at the whole easel.

Am I going to sacrifice my artistic integrity just so I can finish the painting faster?

Even with the personality test, I knew nothing more about Gallus than I did last week. Yes, he closed himself off and concealed some of his true self from me, just like the test result said. It was accurate, but only as a broad generalization.

I didn’t want my painting to be a generalization.

I stared at the canvas for several more minutes, searching for a way around the problem, but none came to mind. My enthusiasm slowly withered until I finally breathed a defeated sigh out of my nose and set the palette aside. Pushing the easel back into its corner, I resigned it to be finished later, and turned it to face the wall. The last thing I wanted was for it to stare at me while I slept.

My palette was fully loaded with colors, but I had no idea what to use them for. My muse was stuck on Gallus’s painting, and it wouldn’t budge until I finished it. Unless I cracked the case in the next couple of days, the paints would dry up and go bad, never used to create anything.

That thought made me sad, but provided me with a little bit of motivation to keep working on the problem. I needed a new tactic, something that would yield me some real results, like what I’d gotten when he fell into the stackberries.

Do I need to push him into another thornbush to get him to be real with me?

I snorted, laughing off the ridiculousness of the thought.

Unless...

I blinked and shook my head. No. I would not inflict pain on Gallus to get him to talk to me. There had to be a better way, even if it was hard. I just needed to hang out with him more, and then the information would come. If I could hang out with him, that was. I hadn’t seen him at all since Saturday when he’d left in a rush because he needed to help his roommate move a fridge.

I understood the urgency. Refrigerators are heavy, but he could have at least mentioned it to me at some point before just running off. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him! The way he acted, it almost seemed like he was nervous about something.

It was a good thing I knew he didn’t get nervous easily except in tight spaces, otherwise I’d think I was the one making him nervous. Boys sure could be weird sometimes.

“Dinner is ready!” Dad called from the other room.

Not a moment too soon. I flipped the lights off and went downstairs to get food, but thoughts of griffons didn’t leave my mind immediately.

“I wonder what Gallus is up to…”

“GRIFFON!”

I froze in my tracks, the feathers on the back of my neck bristling as I spun around to find the source of the shout. Cedar Breeze stood at the door to his office, and he motioned with a claw for me to come. I let out the breath I’d been holding and walked back into the shade under the dry dock overhang. The sudden lack of oppressive heat from the sun made me shudder. Or maybe it was the nerves?

I closed the door to the cramped office behind me and faced a cold glare from the lieutenant. “Sir?” I asked.

“What do you have to say for yourself, recruit?”

“I don’t know?”

“Apparently you have a lot to say. Word on the street is that you’re a bit of a chatterbox,” Cedar Breeze said, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

“Is this about my job?” I asked. “Because I hardly say a word to anygriff all day long.”

“Not to the crews, no, but I hear you like talking on your personal time. Chatting with strange hippogriffs who show up on your doorstep unannounced?”

I filled in the gaps. “The reporter?”

Cedar Breeze nodded.

“How did you—”

He shook off the question before I could finish it. “I have my sources,” he said. “Who was it? Was it Valiant Wing?”

“Yes.”

Cedar Breeze groaned. “Of course it was her. You know she’s the biggest muckraker at the Daily, right?”

“No, I—”

“Of course you didn’t. You haven’t lived here for two weeks yet.” Cedar Breeze sat down at his desk and wiped a wing across his forehead. “Let me tell you something. I was a journalist before I joined the navy, so I know how they operate. Those griffs will tear you down if you give them anything they can use against you. What did you tell her?”

I shrugged. “I don’t remember half of it. We mostly talked about how I’m the only griffon to ever work here.”

“I guess it shouldn’t concern me too much since I’m not in PR, but there’s something we usually tell our recruits on day one: never talk to the press. I figured you’d have less faith in strangers since you’re a griffon.”

I was taken aback, but only slightly. Nearly every time the lieutenant talked to me, he made at least one jab at how greedy or hostile griffons were. Every. Time. Because he was my superior, I knew I wasn’t in a position to counter it, so I stayed silent even though it irked me that I couldn’t call him on it.

There was a pause where he probably expected me to say something, but I kept my beak shut. After a moment, Cedar Breeze continued. “Okay, so you talked to the press unsupervised. That’s not good, but I doubt you gave away anything that would cause any real damage. I mean, you’re just on trash detail!” A raspy, very one-sided laugh echoed in my ears. The lieutenant cleared his throat. “Alright. I bet you’re going to hear about this from somewhere higher up the ladder soon. Be ready, because you’re probably gonna get one heck of a chewing out for it.”

“I’ll be ready for that,” I said, my eye twitching.

“Good. Dismissed,” said Cedar Breeze, waving me off and turning his attention back to whatever was on the jumbled mess of his desk. I didn’t care what it was, so I left on the downswing of a very unenthusiastic salute.

The trash had been particularly nasty that day, rotten leftovers from what I assumed was a fish chili night a week ago—dumped haphazardly into a leaky trash bag. I couldn’t force myself not to shower when I got back to my apartment. I spent extra time working the soap and water in between all of my feathers, deep-cleaning the sweat and rancid garbage fumes. I must have been in there the better part of an hour. Not that it mattered. I lived alone now.

The water got rid of the day’s funk, but it didn’t get rid of the tension I’d built up. I was annoyed and a little bit fearful of whatever reprimands were surely coming down the line for me. If they were so concerned about security, why didn’t they give me a briefing on what I could and couldn’t do on my own time? I was completely untrained, and they were getting mad at me for that?

I grumbled to myself as I paced around the den. I needed a distraction, and it didn’t feel right poking around in Ty’s room, so that left me with very few activities to occupy myself. I had a book I bought at one of the yard sales, so I sat down in my recliner and cracked open Nautical Terminology for Idiots.

I only got through the first page of the introduction before my eyes drooped. Exhaustion from the heat and exertion caught up with me all at once. I closed the book and rested my head against the chair.

The next thing I knew, I woke up in a pitch-dark room with my head hanging over the armrest. My right wing was pinned awkwardly under my ribcage, the wing joint complaining loudly about the situation. I propped myself up and folded the wing in, the dull ache subsiding a bit once the pressure eased.

I must have fallen asleep for several hours. I had to feel my way over to the light switch, the magilights in the room firing up with the dull hum of their enchantments. I stifled a yawn as I took a look around the room. Falling asleep had helped dull the unpleasantness of the day, but now I was wide awake at ten o’clock.

I would go stir-crazy if I stayed here for the rest of the night. Maybe a couple of laps around the mountain would clear my head and let me go back to sleep. I shut the lights off in my room and headed down the ramp but stopped at the front door.

Should I? Going out at night was something I reserved for emergencies back home in Griffonstone. After dark, the city transformed from callous to dangerous. Any griffon encountered on the darkened streets could be a threat—a mugger or maybe kidnapper if they were bigger than you.

But this place was different. Hippogriffs were hardly the self-serving opportunists that griffons were. A loner on the street at night here was more likely to get walked home than mugged. Hippogriffs were really not all that different than ponies, maybe only slightly less nice. Really, they were just tall ponies with beaks and claws.

I chuckled to myself as I imagined how ridiculous Princess Celestia would look if she grew a beak. Or maybe it wouldn’t be very ridiculous at all? She’d basically be a hippogriff without any plumage.

Still, better safe than sorry. I didn’t bother taking anything with me except for my keys. If I was going to get mugged, they’d get away with just me at best—I had plenty of sharp edges on me to discourage that.

I locked up the apartment and started walking at a brisk pace. The night air on the mountaintop was growing chilly, the nearly-full moon casting the street in dim streaks of moonlight. Since I’d lived here, I had always turned left when leaving the apartment. Tonight, I decided to turn right. Though it wasn’t exactly prime sightseeing time, it still counted as exploration.

Mount Aris was deceptively spacious, a place that looked considerably smaller from the outside. Walking around in the city proper, the tree canopy obscuring just how limited the space on the mountaintop actually was, I didn’t feel surrounded on three sides by gigantic stone wings fifty feet thick.

I walked in a straight line for a couple of minutes. I couldn’t tell for sure what direction I was heading, but the general slope to the right told me I was walking toward the south. Ahead of me, the murky darkness of the tree canopy solidified, and I knew I’d found the south wing. That meant I had three options: left, right, or up.

I needed to get my muscles working, so I went vertical, spreading my wings and taking off straight up. Some branches brushed me as I broke out of the canopy, but nothing close to what I’d crashed through when I went into the stackberry bush. I still itched a little bit from that.

When I broke through the trees, I noticed the stars... or the lack thereof. One of the things I’d missed about home was the night sky. Equestria had a bit of a light pollution problem, and the stars were never as brilliant there as they were back home in Griffonstone. Mount Aris had the same kind of sky as Ponyville, a bit hazy from all of the lights on the mountain.

I was something of an amateur astronomer back home, or at least as much as I could be, considering that I couldn’t afford a telescope. I still couldn’t, even with a navy salary. I always liked looking at the stars in my free time. I liked finding patterns and watching how different constellations drifted across the sky throughout the year, and as cheesy as it was, they made me hopeful. The vast universe held plenty of possibilities, each little point in the sky representing another place that existed far away from Griffonstone. I knew I wouldn’t be stuck in that backwater slum forever.

And look at me now. Crappy job, no prospects, terrified of my own friend.

I shook the thought from my head and kept flying, gaining some altitude. The mountain at night looked a bit like the big Hearth’s Warming tree I’d helped set up and then sabotaged over winter break, covered with glass house ornaments and illuminated by randomly scattered outdoor lights. I was directly over the Harmonizing Heights, close to the spire now, the ledge I’d fled from on Saturday looming faintly against the backdrop of the sky.

More memories bubbled to the surface. Silverstream being the first volunteer to stay with me after I confessed and got sentenced to remain in Ponyville over the break. Silverstream being a little clingy toward me for a few days after the Tree of Harmony put us through that fear gauntlet. Silverstream putting in so much more effort than she needed to so I could come here for the summer.

I didn’t understand why I did it, but I came in for a landing on the ledge, knowing full well what I was doing to myself by coming here. My eyes were well-adjusted to the dark now, and I could see all of the details of the stone, even a couple of claw marks on it. A blue feather was tucked tightly into a crack. I dug it out with a talon and held it up to my face.

Yep, it was mine. I sighed as I twirled the feather in my claws. It had probably come loose when I scrambled to dive over the edge and run from her. That had been four days ago. I hadn’t talked to Silverstream since.

In fact, I’d been avoiding her. Yesterday she came over and, thankfully, didn’t let herself in this time. I hid in the bathroom, sitting in the pit with the lights off and praying she wouldn’t come in to try and find me. Apparently she got the message last time when she’d barged in and woke me up. After knocking for a couple of minutes, she left me alone.

I felt a little bit guilty, but I couldn’t blame myself for it like I could with all the other little slights I’d been throwing her way. If I had talked to her then, I would have broken down and blabbed about everything. The lies. The crush. All of it.

I needed more time to be able to face her. I needed to be able to put all of this nonsense behind me and get back to normal, and I felt that I was nearing the verge of a breakthrough. A few more days, and I would have all of those feelings repressed to the point that I could ignore them and let them die in the depths of my subconscious.

Not a moment too soon, as far as I cared. Without Ty in the house, I lived a solitary existence once again. I missed her. I wanted to hang out like we did last week. But I still needed time, and that was when I realized where I was. This was one of her favorite spots, and even though it was late, my chances of running into her were significantly higher up here than elsewhere on the mountain.

Not to mention that I hadn’t fed Sassafrass. I needed to head back, so I spread my wings and started coasting back down toward the city.

I landed on Main Street and opted to finish up with a little more walking. There were a few hippogriffs out on the street, though all of the open markets were shuttered for the evening. I kind of liked it, the usually bustling market all still and peaceful under the night sky.

I turned down the side street I had taken with Silverstream when we walked here before the incident on Saturday. The street was dark, the tree canopy covering the road and filtering most of the moonlight out like when I’d left. A few street lamps dotted the road, but the majority of them were unlit.

I kept my eyes out for the turn onto my street, but as I kept walking, it didn’t seem to be coming up where I thought it would. I kept walking for a while, but the intersection didn’t appear. I was heading downhill, toward the front of the city.

“Took the wrong turn,” I grumbled, doing an about-face and starting back the way I’d come. Not that it was a big deal. More exercise to tire me out, I couldn’t complain.

After a few more minutes of walking, Main Street neared once again. One more try—after that, I’d just fly up and come in on my usual return-from-work route. I noticed a tiny bit of grogginess creeping its way back into my eyes, so maybe by the time I got back—

Movement. My eyes darted to a tree house on the right. A shadow had just slipped around the back side of it. My hackles raised, but I gave myself a shakedown to quiet them. This wasn’t Griffonstone. I wasn’t about to get attacked.

I kept on my way, but on the other side of the tree, the shadow reappeared, darting to the next one, the hippogriff’s hind hooves audible against the dirt. Hippogriffs weren’t as stealthy as griffons, though this one was making a reasonable effort to try.

Then another shadow darted past, right on the heels of the last one. Instinctively, I crouched down, lowering my profile. Surely they knew I was here, as I’d just been walking out in the open. I slipped to the side of the path, hunkering down in the shadows, my ears perking forward to listen closely to any sounds I could make out. I couldn’t hear or see anything. The two shadowy figures seemed to have stopped behind a tree.

What are they up to? I wondered. A few more seconds passed with no more movement, and I slowly crept forward, putting more weight on my rear paws and walking on my knuckles to silence the clicks of my talons. I slunk along on the side of the road, hugging the edge of the streetlight’s glow. The shadowy figures were heading toward Main Street. There was no sign of them in the next gap between trees, and so I kept moving up.

There. They were on the move again. I crossed the road and decided to tail them a little closer, slipping between the buildings on the same back alley path they were using. It was risky business if any more hippogriffs were following them since they could come up behind me and catch me, but I had faith in my stealth. Though my feathers were bright blue, they blended well in the dark.

Wait. Why am I doing this? What those two mysterious hippogriffs were doing out here at night shouldn’t have been any of my concern. All I needed to worry about right now was the lizard waiting for her dinner back at home.

But what I needed to do didn’t quite align with what I wanted to do. Slinking around under the cover of night? That was interesting. I didn’t need to know what they were doing, but I was morbidly curious. I kept on their tail, careful to leave just enough distance that they wouldn’t notice me.

They paused at Main Street, hiding behind a closed market stand, watching and whispering to each other. They held for several minutes, peeking their heads out periodically. A few hippogriffs passed on the road here and there, and it became clear to me that they were waiting until the coast was clear to cross the wide thoroughfare unnoticed. I hunkered down next to a bush about fifty feet behind them.

Suddenly, they jumped up and broke out into a dead sprint, darting across the wide open street, both laden with some sort of packs over their backs. The leader was orange, a bit shorter and faster than the griff behind her, a pale gray male based on his stockier build.

They were probably sneaking around because of the contents of their packs. I fixated on those. Had they robbed someone? I slunk across the gantlet of street lights after them, hoping I would make it without being seen.

A few twists and turns down the back alleys north of Main Street, and I got my answer. They disappeared around a corner, and when I poked my head out, I was practically staring right up at them, just a couple of feet away. I froze, but they didn’t seem to notice me. The leader stood on the doorstep of the corner building, which she knocked on three times. I still hadn’t been noticed, so I slunk backwards and hid myself behind a trash can sitting by the road.

The door opened quickly, and the two mysterious griffs disappeared into the building, the door slamming shut behind them.

“So that’s it?” I muttered with a frown. Pretty anticlimactic for all the sneaking around. I waited a minute, and when no more signs of activity showed, I stood up to make tracks for home.

The door swung open, and out stepped the orange hippogriff. I sunk back into my hiding place, watching carefully and holding my breath as she scanned the horizon. A few seconds later, her gray partner in crime also came out. Neither of them had their packs, but the gray one held a bag of something in his claws. I couldn’t make out what it was in the dark, but I could hear it.

Coins. A lot of them.

Wordlessly, the two shared a fist bump and started on their way, walking right past my hiding spot without noticing me. They slipped around a corner, and once I was satisfied they were clear, I stood up and walked out to the main road.

That was a lot of money. Based on the size of the coin sack, at least five hundred bits—about what I made in a month. I found the right road home this time and spent the rest of the walk thinking about what they were going to do with all of that money. I wondered what I could do with all of that money.

Sassafrass was attempting to climb the glass walls of her tank when I got into Ty’s room, like her lizardy way of protesting me being late with her food. As Ty had instructed, I let a small crowd of ants crawl up onto the damp sponge before I transferred it into the tank, where Sassafrass started picking them off hungrily with her dart-like tongue.

As I watched her eat, I looked around the room at the various shelves stuffed with knickknacks. Ty had quite a collection of junk in here, most notably a guitar and a ukulele propped up on the wall. It was left basically as he lived in here, and it was interesting to see all of the things he had stowed, like I was viewing a small snapshot of his personality in physical form.

“I wonder what Ty’s been up to…”

I rolled onto my stomach and pushed myself up from the deck. I was vaguely aware of the dull ache where I’d landed on my shoulder when I dove, but it didn’t matter.

The lookout’s nest was gone. Debris littered the deck, small fragments of the shattered nest surrounding two large halves of it that had crashed into the deck, buckling it in a couple of places.

It fell right on top of Berry Breeze and Cardia.

Eidothea’s lookout nest was relatively large, a full platform atop the mainmast instead of the barrel-sized ones that cheaper ships used, and now it was sitting in shambles on the deck. I rushed over to the debris, and I found that my worst fears were realized.

A pair of wine-red hind legs were sticking out from under one half of the platform, one of them wrapped in a splint.

My training had prepared me for crisis scenarios. I knew that keeping a calm and level head would create a more effective response to the problem. In that moment, knowing that a hippogriff was under the debris, that immediately went out the window. I panicked and grabbed at the rubble, feebly attempting to lift it off of Berry Breeze. It didn’t budge.

“Help me!” I shouted. One by one, crew members gathered around and took up positions. We heaved on three, lifting the heavy mass of mangled wood off of the hippogriff below. We moved it to the side and dropped it. It didn’t matter anymore.

Cardia, who must have jumped out of the way as I did, was already by Berry Breeze’s side when we finished moving the debris, but as soon as I laid eyes on the victim… I knew. There was too much blood. Cardia looked up at me and shook her head, a forlorn look of resignation on her face.

I felt sick. Angry. Guilty. Emotions I didn’t know about boiled to the surface, ready to erupt, but before they could come out, I was pulled back to reality by a very candid reminder of what did this in the first place. Another cannonball whizzed through the air, but this time way off the mark, sailing well clear of the stern and hitting the water on the far side of the ship.

Right. We’re still under fire.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled myself together. I was the first mate, so I had a job to do. If I cracked now, we were as good as dead. “Battle stations!” I screamed, twirling my wrist in a circle above my head, signalling to the crew to get a move on. “I need eyes on! Did anyone see what side that came from?”

“Starboard bow!” shouted a sailor. I crossed over from the port side and peered out into the fog, leaning forward and squinting hard to try and make out anything in the mist, but there was nothing there but a gray wall.

Another cannon report in the distance was almost immediately followed by the sinister hiss of the cannonball as it passed overhead, missing so high that I never heard a splash on the other side.

“They’re firing blind,” I said, thinking out loud. “The one that hit the crow’s nest was just beginner’s luck.”

I still couldn’t see the source of the cannonfire thanks to the fog, but on the next shot, I saw the faintest flash in the mist before the next ball sailed by us, this time a little closer but still a fairly wide miss. We didn’t have much time before they got lucky again. I folded up my sightglass and rushed across the deck with wings spread, bypassing the ladder entirely.

Captain Virga watched me burst through the wheelhouse door, and I could see the tension in her eyes. “Typhoon, would you mind telling me what the hell is happening out there?” she asked.

“The crow’s nest took a direct hit and we lost part of the mainmast. I’m not sure if Bluesy was at his post when it struck, but we confirmed a casualty from the debris falling on a rescued sailor.” The words tasted acrid coming out. I wanted to scream, but I had to hold it together.

“Any idea where it came from?”

“Somewhere off the starboard bow. No idea on the range, but they’re totally obscured by the mist.”

Moraine turned around in her seat. “How the hell did they hit us on the first shot if they can’t see us?”

“Lucky shot,” I said. “Their aim isn’t great, but they must have been watching us and attacked right after the fog rolled in. They’re firing blind, but I think they’re trying to dial it in.”

The captain nodded and began turning the wheel to the right, feathering the throttle to the steam engines. “I’m turning toward them to present a smaller target. Moraine, get on the cube and notify command that we are taking fire from unknown hostile elements and intend to neutralize the threat.”

“Aye, Captain,” said Moraine, picking up the communication crystal.

“How many of the crew are assisting with the rescue?” the captain asked of me.

“A couple dozen are out there now. Should we call them back?”

The captain pondered it for a moment, but shook her head. “No, they need to keep rounding up the survivors. Any idea on the size of what we’re up against?”

I shook my head. “Can’t see them.”

“We need to send spotters out there then,” said Captain Virga.

“I’ll do it, ma’am,” I blurted. The job would have been better left to gunnery spotters, but I wanted to do something, not sit here with cannonballs flying around me.

I expected the captain to turn me down, but instead she nodded and levelled an intense stare at me. “Alright,” she said. “Find that ship, and do it before they start scoring hits again.”

I snapped off a salute and quickly did an about-face before I could let my nerves show. I exited the bridge and jumped down to the deck. “Hydro!” I shouted, finding the big blue leader of the previous reconnaissance flight. He was assisting with tossing the lookout’s nest debris over the side to clear the deck.

“Sir!” He stepped out from the gathering of sailors on deck.

“You’re on me. We’re sniffing them out.” He was wearing his equipment from the first flight he made, but I still needed some for myself. I headed below to the gun deck and outfitted myself with flight goggles and a sword from the armory room at the back of the gun deck, fitting the belt snugly around my midsection.

“Ready?” I asked.

Hydro put his goggles on and nodded. My pair were tinted for flying in sunny weather, but they would work. I secured them over my eyes and we took off at a dead sprint, leaping over the railing and taking wing. We set off in the direction the cannonfire had come from: straight south, according to my compass. I thanked my old drill instructor for her insistence that I keep a compass on me because the ship faded into the mist immediately after we lifted off, leaving us with no landmarks except for the glowing blaze of Itroscia’s wreckage.

The flight lasted under a minute before we found out just how close we actually were. A muzzle flash cut through the mist just below us, and the telltale whizzing of the cannonball as it hurtled past. The source lurked just ahead, a dark silhouette slowly bleeding through the murky fog. Finally, I could see what we were up against.

“Seriously?” It was an enemy ship, alright. But it was small. Considerably smaller than Eidothea. A two-masted schooner—a little vessel obviously intended for civilian use but commandeered as a quick run-and-gun swashbuckler—useful for terrorizing unarmed fishing boats but horribly underpowered to deal with a fully-outfitted navy corvette like Eidothea. They must have only had one long gun on board, which they were aiming in our general direction. I held up a flattened hand, bringing Hydro and myself into a hover. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Yep. That’s what took out our lookout nest?” he asked.

“Must be.”

“Weird that they’re shooting at us. Usually they just run away,” said Hydro. “Think they might have sunk Itroscia?”

I studied the faint silhouette below us as another cannon report cracked through the air from below. “I’d be shocked if they did it alone.”

Hydro nodded, keeping his eyes trained downward. “So, what do we do?”

“That’s up to the captain.”

We flew back to Eidothea at full speed, crashing headlong through the mist with abandon to get the information back as fast as possible. Once the ship appeared from the gray, I could see that the rescue operation was moving along. Our crew was using their shards to daisy-chain the survivors and let them transform into seaponies. A steady stream of them swam toward the ship, and they were gathering on the port side where the crew on board was changing them back so they could climb the netting we’d lowered over the side. I dismissed Hydro back to his post on deck as we landed. He went over to assist with bringing hippogriffs aboard, and I went straight to the bridge.

“It’s a schooner,” I said, closing the door behind me. “Looks like one long gun. About six hundred meters out.

“Just the one?” asked Captain Virga.

I nodded. “That’s the only source of cannon fire.”

Captain Virga seemed to sense the implication in my answer, frowning and scratching her beak. “They didn’t sink Itroscia.”

“That’s what I was thinking. It looks like they’re either making a diversion or leading us into a trap.”

Moraine scoffed, still working with the cube at the desk. “And we’re not already in the middle of one now?”

She made sense. We were alone out here, and our position would leave us with little in the way of tactical advantage.

“Whatever it is, we can’t continue the rescues if we have cannons trained on us,” I said. “They’ve already killed our lookout and one of the survivors. Can we spare some crew to fly over and take care of it? I can lead the mission.”

“Splitting our crew between that and the survivors would be dangerous,” said Captain Virga. “Divide and conquer, we’d be playing right into their hand.” The captain stared pensively out the window for a moment, and then she took a grip on the wheel. “Put the rescues on hold for now.”

I saluted and went outside, descending the ladder with haste in my step. I was about to make a lot of griffs unhappy. As much as I hated doing it, I had orders.

“Make way!” I bellowed, parting my way through the small crowd around the netting. The survivors were easy to distinguish from the regular crew by their soaked feathers. Their uniforms were in varying states of repair, many of them missing their bandanas. I peered over the side, watching a couple of sailors clamoring their way up the netting. Down below, a dark blue hippogriff who I remembered as Brutus clung to the edge of the netting just above the water line, using his shard one at a time to transform the seaponies back to hippogriffs. He had things surprisingly organized. “Hey Brutus!” I shouted.

“Ty?” he asked.

“Bring it in, sailor,” I said, waving my claws in a ‘come here’ gesture. He looked up at me quizzically, but nodded and started climbing up after the last hippogriff he’d de-fishified. This was met with a lot of shouts from the gathering of seaponies still waiting in the water. “We can’t take you all on right now,” I addressed them. “We have to go take out whoever is shooting at us before we can get the rest of you aboard. Stay here, we’ll be back for you as soon as we can.”

I turned away from the railing before their protests could meet my ears as anything more than a dull roar of voices.

I felt the ship gently accelerate. It was slower than if we had our sails out and a tailwind, but the steam engines did a passable job of getting us underway. As a corvette, Eidothea was sleek and built for speed as far as sailing ships went. The group of seaponies in the water drifted away slowly, and I could feel their anguished stares on my back even though I wasn’t watching them.

The crew continued tending to the several dozen new arrivals from Itroscia. Cardia directed the process of moving them down to the lower decks, the more severely injured griffs being carried down below by my crew. As I watched them shuffle down the ladders, a selfish thought crossed my mind. We were about to be extremely crowded with lots more mouths to feed for the rest of our voyage. Did we have enough supplies to get us to port, especially now that our mainmast was damaged?

I didn’t dwell on it. Those thoughts could wait until we didn’t have hostile ships firing on us, as another cannonball whizzing past us reminded me. The shots were still missing wildly because they couldn’t see us directly, but they were close enough to be problematic. Another random chance hit like the one that took out the crow’s nest could wreak havoc with even more griffs on board.

Our gunners would need to be briefed, so I joined the procession going down. The gun deck was a tense place, all of the gunners sitting ready by their cannons, peering out of the gun ports and watching tensely. Powder Keg was near the bow, his…

His arm was stuck down the bore of a cannon.

“What are you doing?” I asked incredulously.

“Powder’s wet,” he said. “Gotta get the shot out so we can replace it. I keep hearing cannonballs and a lot of racket upstairs. You got good news for me?”

I decided not to tell him about Bluesy. “We’re going after the pirates shooting at us. Is your crew ready for a full broadside?”

Powder Keg nodded. “Minus this one, we’re ready to go. Twenty-three cannons waiting for the signal.”

“You have it. You’re cleared to fire at will.”

He chuckled manically. I normally would have been off-put by his enthusiasm to shoot someone, but I was angry. The bastards on that schooner killed two griffs and Poseidon knew how many more on Itroscia.

I wanted to see them torn to shreds and sunk.

A few minutes passed in tense silence as we slowly made our way toward the pirates. The source of the cannon fire slowly drew closer, and I spent those minutes running back and forth ensuring that everything was squared away and ready to go. Any crew on deck was armed with swords, and when the silhouette of the offending ship finally appeared in the mist, we were as ready for combat as we could ever be.

As soon as we came into view, the cannon shots got a lot more accurate, one of them glancing off the hull on the port side and splashing into the water just off the stern. The stationary pirate ship ran out their sails in an attempt to dodge us, but we were too quick for them. We had been approaching them dead on, and then the ship started a right turn, lining up the port side for a pass on the pirates.

The seconds that ticked by as we approached carried the tension of a cable stretched between two planets. The main deck was silent, everygriff staring intently at the target. I half expected them to mount a last-ditch attack and send any flight-capable pirates at us, but they didn’t. The ships slowly aligned parallel to each other, and when we were abreast of them, Powder Keg got his wish.

The row of port-side cannons erupted, a zipper of lead running from bow to stern as the gunners got their first ever taste of action. One after the next. Boom. Boom. Boom. The percussion of each one was tangible in my face. I watched the pirate crew duck down as the hail of fire descended on them. Cannonballs ripped into the smaller vessel, punching gaping wounds into the hull. Wood splintered, followed by smoke. If I hadn’t been already deafened by our own cannons, I could have sworn I heard a faint scream from the distance. Or maybe it was just my ears ringing.

Cheers erupted from the crew on deck once the volley ended. We watched the enemy craft begin to list and smoke, fire breaking out in its stern. It was a triumph for Eidothea’s crew. The first engagement we’d ever participated in, unplanned and unprepared, and we came out on top. Someone hugged me spontaneously, and I halfheartedly accepted it.

It felt surreal. The vengeful part of me was sated. We’d torn them a new porthole below the waterline, just like I wanted!

But we’d probably just snuffed out dozens of souls. It wasn’t that I was horrified. They more than deserved it. I had no qualms about doing what we had to do, but I felt… different. Though I hadn’t lit the fuse, I had participated in the sinking of that boat. I had given the order to fire that resulted in the killing of other living beings.

What disturbed me was that I didn’t feel any remorse.

But the operation was far from over. I would have plenty of time to dwell on things later. We had work to do. With the immediate threat dispatched, we could turn around and go back for the rest of Itroscia’s crew, hopefully before any other pirates got too big for their britches and came at us.

Eidothea started its turn back toward the northwest, and I kept my eyes on the receding form of the pirate ship as it slipped lower into the water. I could see the tiny forms of several pirates scurrying around on the deck of the stricken ship, a few of them jumping overboard.

Okay, scratch that, I felt just a little bit of remorse—emphasis on little. They were still murderers and thieves.

Now that the immediate threat had been taken care of, I could think a little more about the big picture, in particular what Hydro and I had discussed.

“Think they might have sunk Itroscia?”

“I’d be shocked if they did.”

I learned long ago that gut feeling was never to be ignored. Though we had taken out the threat for now, my instincts told me that we only had part of the picture. Something else was lurking out there. The griffs we’d rescued from the Itroscia wreck could hopefully provide some useful information on what we needed to do. I mounted the ladder to go down to the crew deck, but stopped just before my head dipped below the surface.

Another cannonball whizzed past the bow.

The unease in my gut hardened into a dense mixture of anxiety and frustration. It couldn’t be as simple as just taking out one rogue ship, saving the crew, and going home as heroes. No, we just had to deal with an entire damn fleet.

I climbed back up onto the main deck, readying myself for another speech to calm the crew down, but then another cannonball came. And another. One from the port, one from the starboard, and two from the stern. Instead of assurances, I yelled the order to battle stations, flew up to the poop deck, took out my spyglass, and extended it in search of the source of the cannonfire. The fog was thinning slowly as the cold front receded further away from us, giving me a bit more range. This time, the sources of the shots weren't totally obscured. A couple of sloops were flanking us on either side, taking potshots but clearly missing on purpose. Not a huge problem. We could handle that.

But when I found the ship firing from off the stern, my jaw dropped.

Out of the fog, the faint outline of a ship nearly twice the size of ours revealed itself. They had their blackened sails run out, and somehow they were still approaching us fast despite going against the wind. It was a galleon, a massive ship made for both fighting and hauling big things, evident by the way its stern rose to a sharp point on the end, giving it the appearance of a cat stalking its prey—us.

I felt our ship’s turn tighten. The captain was taking evasive maneuvers, probably to try and outrun the looming threat. Surely she needed something of me, so I dropped down to the bridge. “What’s the game plan, Captain?” I asked on my way through the door.

“Shoot the gap and get the heck out of here,” she responded levelly. Only her white-knuckle grip on the wheel betrayed how nervous she was. “I doubt that galleon can make it through the gap we did. All we have to do is get there. Moraine, you got a bearing for me?”

“0-7-5,” Moraine called out. “I think.”

“Do you think or do you know?” barked Captain Virga.

“It’s between 0-7-4 and 0-7-6. I can’t tell exactly without any landmarks to go on. We’ll have to adjust once we can see it.”

The captain cursed under her breath.

“And the rest of the survivors?” I asked.

More cannonfire erupted from the galleon’s deck guns, the shots screaming past both bow and stern.

“They’re swimming,” she said with a sigh. “This is officially too hot for us to handle. We’re bailing and hoping they can’t catch us.”

Eidothea had a good chance of outrunning the galleon if we could maneuver around them and avoid a broadside. But it would be close. We were angled perpendicular to their approach, and with just our steam-powered propellers, we were a lot slower than usual.

“Can we use the sails on the mainmast?” asked Captain Virga.

“Negative,” I said. “The top of it is sheared off. Just the fore and mizzen.”

“Raise every sail we have left. We need all the speed we can get.”

I saluted and went to work once again, using my fingers to pinch-whistle and get the crew’s attention as I left the bridge. “All griffs on deck! Run the sails out, now!”

We went to work immediately, taking our places and the ropes and opening our sails wide. The cold wind caught on them immediately, attempting to pull them free of our control. The masts groaned as the wind grabbed the sails, the speed boost they provided immediately noticeable.

The galleon drew closer, beginning to angle itself toward us. They were still fighting the wind, but they must have had one crazy propulsion system to be able to keep up with us. We just had to keep trying.

They must have sensed our play, because all three of the pirate ships were converging toward us. One of the sloops followed behind the stern, but they had no chance of catching up. The other was closing in from the port side, and the galleon loomed on the starboard. They and the much larger galleon were attempting to catch us in a pincer movement. Our only hope now was our speed. If only they hadn’t gotten that lucky shot on the mainmast, we probably would have made it with time to spare.

All we could do now was watch and wait with bated breath. The minutes ticked by as the slow race played out. Now that they were closer, I could make out that the galleon’s hull was painted in pale olive green, similar to the color of algae. An imposing figurehead in the shape of an eagle adorned the bow, and I could see a crowd of sailors on the deck, waiting and watching just as we were.

Green Haze. The intel was wrong. The hunting ships had followed a false lead, and now we were here to take them on all alone.

The pirates drew nearer minute by minute. The fog was clearing steadily, and now we could see the rocks ahead that would be our saving grace, but we were going to make it by a whisker. Running into that gap at full sail was a risky move, and we could easily sink ourselves if the pirates didn’t beat us to the punch.

Green Haze loomed a mere hundred meters away now. I could make out the faces of the pirates on deck. A ragtag group, mostly parrots with a few abyssinians and equids mixed in. They were eyeing us hungrily, waiting in the wings like we were their meal just moments from being delivered. Most of my attention was on them, the biggest threat, so it came as a shock when I heard shouting from the port side of the deck.

“Get clear! Incoming!”

I whirled around to see one of the pirate sloops mere meters off the port bow, closing fast. They were coming in shallow, the wind pushing them quickly toward the ship.

The sound it made when the sloop hit our bow was horrendous. Creaking, groaning, splintering wood. The confused shouts of the crew on deck. The whole cacophony of the crash was horrible, as was the lurch as our ship lost a very considerable amount of forward speed.

So they were stopping us by force. Well played, pirates.

For the first time during the whole engagement, Captain Virga emerged from the bridge, a grim scowl on her face. She drew her sword, crossing to the port side of the deck, headed for the point of impact. “Swords ready, griffs! Don’t let them board us!”

“I wouldn't worry about that too much, Captain,” said a new voice from behind me, loud enough to pierce through the commotion. The crowd of griffs on deck turned as one to face its source: a bright red parrot wearing a worn gray coat and a tricorne cap with an eagle embroidered on it. He hovered in place just off the starboard side, a belt carrying a broadsword and two flintlock pistols hung loosely around his waist. “We wouldn’t want to go somewhere we aren’t welcome.”

Captain Virga rushed through the crowded crew and took up a place on the railing at the front of the pack, raising her sword toward the pirate, though he was well out of her reach. “Sternclaw,” she spat.

“Ah, so there’s no need for introductions! I’m always happy to save time.” Sternclaw barked a laugh, a chilling sort of joviality so inappropriate that it carried a sinister edge. He was flanked by a small wing of goons, other parrots all hovering in place behind him, swords held in their claws as their wings were occupied with keeping them aloft. “Good morning, Captain and crew of—” he craned his neck to peer toward the bow “—Eidothea! I love the names you navy griffs put on these ships—very elegant.”

“You do realize that what you’re doing is a provocation of war, don’t you?” said Captain Virga. “You sank Itroscia and marooned the entire crew to die.”

“Accusations! Goodness.” He feigned shock, even floating backwards a few inches for effect. “Not a lot of pleasantries in you griffs today. Is it the weather? I personally hate it when it gets foggy and cold, but there’s no need for nastiness.”

“Do you deny those accusations?”

Sternclaw shrugged. “Well, no, but when you put it like that you make me sound like some kind of maniac.”

“You fire on my ship unprovoked and ram her with a sloop, and you’re concerned with semantics?” Captain Virga’s grip tightened on her sword. “You really are mad.”

The parrot’s smile fell. “Now we’re throwing insults. Tsk tsk, Captain, you could use a lesson in politeness.”

Captain Virga’s brow furrowed. His nonchalance was getting to her. “You know it’s unwise to present yourself before an enemy force? Maybe I should come up there and teach you a lesson in war strategy.”

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

“And why not? I’ve got a hundred griffs and you have seven parrots with you.”

Sternclaw chuckled, and then his face darkened. The sickly cheerful demeanor evaporated, replaced with a stone-cold glare full of murder. “Because if you even so much as make a move at me, my crew will ensure that there are no survivors.”

I think everyone on the deck involuntarily glanced at Green Haze’s cannons. Captain Virga, for her part, appeared unfazed by the threat. She did adapt a less threatening posture though, lowering her sword and resting it on the railing. “What is it you want, exactly?”

And then he snapped right back to chipper. The sudden change creeped me out. “Oh, nothing much. Just all of those magic necklace things you’re wearing.”

Captain Virga looked over to me and tipped her head slightly, motioning for me to come over. “What in the name of Poseidon could you possibly do with our shards?” she asked as I parted a few griffs out of the way.

“I have my reasons,” said Sternclaw. As soon as I stepped up to the captain’s side, I heard a click. Captain Sternclaw had a pistol aimed right at my head. Nothing sent shivers down the spine quite like being a twitch of a claw away from death. “I don’t like all these side-eyes and nods you’re giving him, Captain. I don’t think you’re planning a dinner date for later. You wouldn’t happen to be plotting something, would you?”

Captain Virga shook her head. “No, nothing of the sort. It seems you have the better of us, so we concede. We fully intend to cooperate so we can achieve the best possible outcome for all of us. We’d like to go home at the end of the day. I’m merely sending my first mate down to check the bow for leaks after you rammed it. Is that allowable?”

Starnclaw considered it for a moment, and then uncocked his pistol, waving it to the side. Captain Virga turned to face me, and I was really glad I was paying attention to her face, because she mouthed the words ‘Full steam.’ Immediately I understood. Raise the boiler’s pressure as high as it could go, and then give it full throttle.

We were busting out of here, or we were going to die trying.

I carefully backed away from the railing, watching the pirates to make sure I wouldn’t end up with a bullet in the head anyway. When I got to the ladder to the lower decks, I bolted down it, only remembering that I hadn’t been breathing for a solid minute when I reached the bottom. I sucked down wind as I raced through the gun deck, the crew deck and down to the orlop deck—the cargo hold. The orlop deck was cramped and dark, only a single narrow passage between supply crates and ropes as thick as my hind legs. I thought I felt a rat brush my leg, but now was not the time to think about rodent problems.

Faint light ahead guided me to the stern. The fire in the boiler was the only light source down here below the waterline. I pushed ahead as fast as I could through the cramped space, ignoring the latest in a series of adrenaline rushes I’d had in the last hour.

The boiler was a large metal box tucked away in the very back of the ship. The low overhead in the orlop deck rose about a meter to accommodate its size. The actual mechanism was concealed behind a large wall of metal plate, several valves sticking out of its surface and a firebox door the only features on its surface other than rivets.

“Ty?” asked the crew member who had been tasked with keeping the boiler fed. He was fairly new, so I wasn’t totally solid on his name yet. I decided his name would be Boiler until I learned otherwise.

“Grab your shovel,” I said, taking the spare one from an overhead rack. “We’ve got to get this fire going as hot as it can.”

“Yes, sir,” said Boiler. He sounded frightened, a bit of shakiness in his voice. “What’s going on out there? I heard a lot of cannons going off. Did something hit the bow?”

I shook my head. “It’s a mess,” I said, taking a shovelful from the coal pile and throwing it into the firebox. “Be glad you’re down here. Might be the safest place on the whole ship.”

We continued shoveling coal into the firebox until we had reasonably reached the limit of what fuel we could dump into it. The fire in the box roared, the heat threatening to singe the hair on my legs every time the doors opened. “Keep the fire going as hot as possible and don’t let off any excess pressure until it’s at the limit. Be very careful with that pressure valve. If you take your eyes off it for a second, you could blow us all up.”

Boiler gulped. “What’s all this for, sir?”

I paused, searching for the right words. “To save our asses.”

Boiler nodded reluctantly and saluted me. I gave him a quick slap on the shoulder and bolted back to the ladders. I could count on one hand the number of times we’d actually fired up the boiler since I had come aboard Eidothea, and now it might be the one thing that saved us.

Once I got back topside, it was immediately clear that Captain Virga was stalling. Sternclaw was wearing a smug grin, chattering away about something or other. “...simple really. Parrots lack magical ability, so if I want to do anything fun, I have to get creative. That’s why I need your necklaces.”

“Surely there’s a better way to get magical artifacts than this,” said Captain Virga, almost chiding him like a schoolteacher would a rowdy fledgeling. “I hear the black market is full of those. You probably know more about that than I do.”

I slipped over to her side. “The hull looks solid, ma’am. A little damage, but it should hold until we make it to port.”

“Thank you, Ty. Would you go alert the second mate on the bridge?” She flashed me a weary look. She was nervous.

So was I. I saluted her and made my way to the ladder cautiously, keeping an eye on the pirates. He was more occupied with her than with me. “And pay for some shoddily enchanted glass? Do you know how much I actually make ransoming cargo ships? I couldn’t afford what those buzzards out in the Badlands are charging.”

I stopped paying attention and climbed the ladder, again only remembering to breathe once I was safely inside the bridge. “Moraine,” I said.

“Please tell me there’s a plan to deal with these goons?” she said.

“Yeah, there is.” I crossed the bridge to the wheel and took my position at the helm. The parrot goon squad could see everything I was doing through the windows, so we had a very limited window of surprise to work with. I gripped the wheel and the throttle levers next to it, my hands shaking faintly and rattling my claws against the handles.

“Run.”

I threw both throttle levers forward as far as they would go, and the ship lurched. I could feel the pressure in the boiler beneath my feet releasing, faint vibrations rolling through the decking. I jerked the wheel to starboard, angling us toward the gap in the rocks. Captain Virga was ready. As soon as we were under power, I heard her muffled scream from outside: “Full sail, let’s go! Everyone else, get those—”

A gunshot rang out, followed by the commotion of an entire crew of hippogriffs springing to life. A chorus of battle cries and wingbeats followed the gunshot. The sails were opened once again, and they added to our acceleration, though the sloop still clinging to our bow slowed us down. The parrots I could see through the window all flapped hard upwards at once, giving themselves altitude. They rose out of sight, revealing instead the side of Green Haze just a stone’s throw away. Two decks of cannons run out.

Aimed right at us.

“Hit the deck!” I screamed. Puffs of smoke and fire spouted from the cannons on the galleon, and I had a bare second to react before the windows exploded inward. I closed my eyes and turned my head, the glass raining across my right side. The thunder of the cannons mixed with the horrible cacophony of shattering glass and splintering wood. Something heavy and hot hit me in the shoulder. It felt like my whole chest had ignited, the flames burning down into the flesh. I fell down hard as the wheelhouse shredded around me.

That horrible second lasted for an hour. I lay on the floor, arms protecting my head, ears ringing from the sound. I heard more cannons, this time our own going off in retaliation, but they were something short of a full broadside. I only counted five shots from our guns. I opened my eyes and looked up.

None of the windows on the starboard side were intact, and a couple of the wheel’s handles were torn off. Moraine was also on the floor, covering her head with her claws. She turned her head toward me and—

A huge shard of glass was sticking out of Moraine’s right eye.

“Oh gods,” I muttered, crawling across the floor to her. My own face lit up with pain as I looked at hers. “Moraine, you with me?”

“I can’t see anything!” she gasped, shuddering. “My face hurts so bad. Ty, is something in my eye?”

Shivering, I nodded. “You could say that.”

Moraine’s breathing sped up as she panicked. I chanced a glance out the starboard windows. The cannons had disappeared from Green Haze’s gun ports. They were reloading, and in less than a minute, they’d be ready to fire again. We didn’t have time to panic.

“Moraine, can you stand?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Okay. Can you open your left eye?” Reluctantly, she did. Tears spilled down her face as she propped her good eye open with her claws. “Good. There’s a big piece of glass in your right eye. Be careful with it. I need you to steer.” I helped her to her feet and guided her back to the wheel. When she was situated, I crossed the bridge and opened the door. “I’ve got to go check on the—”

I opened the wheelhouse door and immediately retched when I saw the scene on deck. The cannons had been loaded with grapeshot. Anti-personnel fire. The entire volley was intended to kill the crew, not destroy the ship.

Dozens of griffs lay dead or dying on the deck below. Those who were fortunate enough to escape the worst of it were dazed, milling around aimlessly in a sea of death and destruction. Our sails hung limply against the mast, having not been secured before the volley.

I searched the deck for the captain, and when I found her…

I stared. Her pale blue form lay motionless in the spot she had been standing when I saw her last. I couldn’t pull my eyes away. I had just spoken with her moments before. I had just enacted her plan to get us out of here.

And now she was dead.

Every second I stared at her body, I felt more and more dissonance. It grew outward, a strange numbness that started in my chest and worked its way down my limbs. I was frozen in place in the wheelhouse doorway, unable to move. Unable to avert my eyes from the horrible sight of my commander lying dead among dozens of her crew.

Something yanked hard on my tail, pulling me back a step.

“Ty! Go!” Moraine shouted, pulling me back to reality. I whirled around and faced the horror head on, steeling myself against it.

Captain Virga was gone. That meant I was our new captain.

“Raise the sails!” I screamed, jumping upward to the poop deck and the mizzenmast. My shoulder screamed in burning agony, but I ignored it. I rushed to the ropes and was joined in short order by several wide-eyed griffs in various states of shock. We took up our positions on the ropes like mindless drones and heaved, pulling the sails open and tying them off. The effect was appreciable in the strong wind, the ship creaking and groaning under the extra thrust.

We still had the sloop clinging to our bow, and that was our next problem. Pirates on the deck of that ship were coming out, drawing their swords. One by one, they spread their wings and started flying toward us. I drew my sword, ready for the impending fight.

But it never came. The parrots flew upward, crossing over top of us just above the height of the mast. The sloop’s crew was abandoning ship and returning to Green Haze.

A new set of hoof and claw steps joined us on the poop deck. It was Hydro, the plumage on his neck stained red from a gash just below his jawline. He was lucky it didn’t go deep enough to get the jugular. “Are you guys okay?” he asked.

I didn’t answer him. “Find survivors and render first aid. Hydro, go down and see how many first aid kits Cardia has left.”

“Yes, sir,” he acknowledged. “Why aren’t they boarding us?”

I followed the fleeing parrots back to the pirate galleon. The guns had been rolled out again. I pointed a claw at them. “That’s why. Get down!”

The screaming of a thousand murderous demons manifested itself once again. Another volley erupted from Green Haze, but this time they fired actual cannonballs. The heavy fire tore through Eidothea, wood splintering and cracking the length of the ship. Once again we all dropped to the deck in hopes of surviving. I watched a ball crash through the foremast, shearing it off just above the deck. The broadside was over in seconds, but this time the damage was more structural. The foremast fell over the side of the ship and splashed into the water below, taking another of our sails with it.

Two hundred meters to the gap. We were so close, but we wouldn’t survive another volley. On shaking legs, I stood and hobbled over to the side of the ship that had taken the worst of it and peered over the railing. Holes dotted the side of the ship, large ones. Smoke rose from some of them. Was something on fire down there? Then a scarier thought occurred to me.

Were we taking on water?

Immediately I rushed down to the bridge. “Moraine, keep us on course for the gap!” I didn’t bother waiting for her response. She knew what she was doing. I could trust her to get us there.

Down the ladder I rushed. The gun deck was in shambles, and I didn’t even want to think about what those cannonballs might have done to the crew deck, crowded as it was with survivors from Itroscia.

Down in the orlop deck, my fears were realized. Water pooled on the floor. I could hear the sound of it rushing in under pressure on both sides of me. For these sorts of emergencies, we kept wood wedges and hammers below the waterline. I felt my way to one of the breach kits and took as many wedges as I could grab in one wing and a hammer in the other.

The darkness of the orlop deck was less than ideal, but a clue lay ahead. Light shone in through a hole in the ceiling, and I traced the trajectory to find where a jet of water was shooting into the ship. The ball had split the hull outward but not punched through, and I accidentally kicked it as I walked up, stubbing my claws. I didn’t care. I immediately went to work, driving the wooden wedges into the hole with frantic fervor despite searing pain in my shoulder. The seawater was like a firehose punching me in the face. I couldn’t breathe. And still, I hammered away. It was this, or we were sunk.

It took six wedges to fill the gash left by the cannonball, though a slow trickle of water remained. It would have to be that way for now. The water had risen to fetlock deep now. I rushed to the next hole I found near the bow and filled it. I nearly choked on seawater, but I got the second hole patched. With that one sealed, I turned around and saw the faint outlines of a couple of other griffs had followed along and were hammering away to seal breaches down by the stern.

There were enough griffs working on the breaches that I felt reasonably confident they’d be able to control it, so I left them to it. Captain Virga was dead. I was the acting captain now. I needed to lead us out of here. “Good work, griffs! Keep it up!” I shouted as I headed for the topside. The words felt hollow.

Once I was on the surface again, I felt a bit of relief. Green Haze trailed behind us, no longer in position to pepper us with cannonballs. We were entering the gap now, a gap they were too large to fit through. I heard groaning and crunching, watching as the pirate sloop clinging to us rose out of the water and stopped in place, ripping free of the bow. Eidothea bucked to the side as The Blades sheared the parasitic vessel off of us, impaling it on the rocks.

We made it. Normally I supposed I would have cheered at such a success. I had survived a too-close brush with death. We had escaped from Captain Sternclaw.

But not all of us had. I was surrounded by the bodies of griffs I’d known for years. My friends. My second family. I watched Green Haze disappear behind the rocks, and I didn’t know what to feel. I couldn’t say that I felt nothing, but stepping over the bodies of my crew only made me nauseous.

Back in the bridge, Moraine stood at the helm, watching nervously out the windows. She still had a huge piece of bloody glass sticking out of her face. “This was a lot easier when I had more crew to guide us through. And two eyes,” she added dryly. At least her injury hadn’t dampened her spirit.

I didn’t respond. Moreso, I couldn’t. I flopped myself down at the navigator’s desk and looked at the cube. It had split into chunks, a deformed lead ball lying on the desk next to it. So much for telling command what had happened.

I sat there for a few minutes, watching the rocks pass outside the window, my mind numb. Not a single thought went through my head during those minutes. I think my brain had taken all the abuse it could for one day. I hadn’t slept all night either. As the adrenaline slowly drained from my bloodstream, I became more and more aware of the pain in my shoulder. What had happened with that anyway?

“Ty,” said Moraine, pulling me back from my zone-out.

“Yeah?”

“You’re bleeding.”

“So are you.”

“Look at your arm.”

I glanced down, and sure enough, my entire right arm was red. A charred hole in the shoulder of my vest led to a deep wound, blood oozing from it and dripping from the tips of my claws. Had I left a trail on the floor? “Huh, would you look at that.”

“Go down and get yourself checked,” said Moraine. “That looks serious.”

“You first.”

She glared at me with her good eye.

“Okay, fine. But you’re going as soon as I get back.” I said, hoisting myself out of the chair and limping for the door. My vision swam a little as I stood. I was about to step out when Moraine stopped me.

“We’re losing power,” she said.

I twisted my face up in thought. “Oh yeah, the orlop deck is flooded. Probably quenched the fire in the boiler.”

Moraine’s eye widened. “And we’re down to one sail?”

I nodded.

The rocks receded away from the window a little. We were through the narrows. I glanced to the port side, toward the spot where we’d left Mother of Pearl before we traipsed into The Blades.

It wasn't there.

I was too tired to care. “Looks like we’re running out the oars,” I sighed, climbing down the ladder and doing my best to keep my sight above deck level. Everything hurt, but only like a distant echo of pain. I knew it was there, but I couldn’t tell where it started or stopped. On wobbly legs, I lowered myself down the two remaining ladders to the crew deck.

The entire deck overflowed with hippogriffs in varying states of distress. It was bad enough that some of the Itroscia crew, still drenched and covered in oil, were helping tend to the wounded among Eidothea’s crew. Some griffs were bloodied. Some were missing limbs. A couple were dead, cannonball holes directly above some of the bunk spaces.

I stood off to the side, my head swimming. It was like watching the scene through a glass orb, everything distorted and further away than it should have been. A distant echo of voices and commotion that I couldn’t understand reverberated through the space.

Suddenly, the floor rushed up to meet me, darkness encroaching on the edges of my vision. One last thought went through my head before everything went dark.

I wonder what Diamond’s been up to...

Chapter 10: Oh.

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I still hadn’t gotten used to Mount Aris weekends. In both Equestria and the Griffon Empire, Saturday and Sunday make up the weekend. Here, it was Friday and Saturday. I stared at the high vaulted ceiling as I pondered the question instead of getting out of bed. A few minutes passed before I came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter, but I still felt mildly curious as to why hippogriffs started their weekend a day early. Maybe I could ask Silverstream about that the next time I saw her.

After a brief pause, I ran the thought through my head again and felt vindicated by the lack of a nervous rush in my chest. I had devoted myself to suppressing all the gooey, crushy thoughts in my head about her, and I was making progress. A few days ago, I would have gotten jittery at the mention of her name. Now, the pangs were less severe. Controllable, even. Within a week’s time, I would be able to put it all behind me and go back to hanging out with Silverstream like normal.

With that settled, I rolled out of bed and padded down the ramp toward the bathroom, my talons gently scratching on the wood floor. Fridays were good days. I could sleep in and let my muscles recover from the long week of scooping up the horrid messes that sailors left behind. Yesterday, I had completed my duties early, but instead of letting me do anything remotely interesting, they stuck me with scrubbing the kitchen—galley, I reminded myself—from top to bottom. Somehow, that was more taxing on my body than throwing trash bags and shoveling out dumpsters.

After a shower, I flopped down on the couch and stared up at the ceiling while I let my feathers air dry. I was stuck in a weird limbo between not wanting to go outside and having nothing to do inside. I could go out to the markets and find some things for my room, but that would require leaving the apartment.

I hated conflicting feelings. Nothing good ever came from them. Just like having a crush on Silverstream, being indecisive about what to do with myself today would lead only to self-assured destruction. I needed to make a choice, so I did. I would go outside. I would make a run to the markets and find a few distractions.

I threw myself off the couch and yawned, doing a quick stretch and shakedown even though I was only damp. I headed up the ramp on the other side of the tree. Before I left, I needed to feed Sassafrass.

When I flipped the lights on in Ty’s room, I saw no movement in the lizard tank. I crossed the room quickly and peered around the side of the cage, revealing a pair of beady eyes looking at me from under the log.

“Not feeling too social today?” I said with a slight smile. Carefully, I reached in and plucked the sponge from last night’s feeding out of the tank. It was still damp enough that I could reuse it, so I dropped—

An ant was crawling up my talon. Reflexively, I shook it off, and the tiny insect disappeared from view as it launched across the room, somewhere into oblivion. A visual check of the enclosure revealed a few other ants skittering around in the sandy bottom of the tank.

“Not hungry either, huh?” I dropped the sponge into an ant jar and waited a moment, allowing a few ants to crawl up but stopping short of the usual number. I transferred them to the tank with the pair of chopsticks Ty provided and tapped the glass, watching Sassafrass for signs of life. She stayed still as a statue, only the faint rise and fall of her chest as she breathed showing that she was alive.

“I guess you can eat when you feel like it.” I smiled at the tank weakly and left the room, flipping the lights off on my way out. Her lack of appetite worried me a little, but I decided it wasn’t scary just yet. If there were still ants in her tank tonight, then I’d worry about it. Heck, maybe I’d just given her too much food without realizing it?

Taking a page from Sassafrass’s book, I decided to skip out on breakfast and instead pick up something at the markets while trinket shopping. I checked my coin bag on the way toward the door: seventy bits—enough for a couple of items and a good lunch. I stepped out the front door, but when I turned around to lock up, a rustle in the tree above me grabbed my attention. Something was falling toward me. Instinct kicked in as I bristled and darted to the side, clearing away from the porch the moment a pink blob of hippogriff landed on it.

“Surpris—wait where’d you go?” Silverstream shouted as she came to rest and whirled around until she found me crouching next to the tree, hackles raised.

It took a second for my brain to get up to speed with what just happened. “I—I told you it’s dangerous to sneak up on griffons!” I stammered.

“I’m two for two on making you all puffy and not a single scratch, so who’s the real loser here?” Silverstream stuck her tongue out at me, making me suddenly very self-conscious about my raised hackles. I shook out my back and smoothed the feathers and fur, hoping my blush wouldn’t show through the fine feathers on my face.

“I’m warning you, these talons are sharp.”

“Sure,” Silverstream giggled at my attempt to hide my bruised pride. “So anyway, whatcha doin’?” she asked.

“Nothing much. Just headed down to the market to find a few things for my room.”

“And you didn’t invite me?!”

I shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important enough to get you.” Among other reasons.

“But there’s bargain hunting to be had! I know these markets like the back of my wing. I can get you all the good deals.”

“Last time I went shopping with you, we paid double the asking price for a chair.”

Silverstream scoffed. “That was all you, Gallus.”

“You were egging me on the whole time.”

“The point—” Silverstream held up a claw to interrupt the dispute “—is that you should always bring me along when you go shopping. I’m a good luck charm in hippogriff form!”

Maybe I hadn’t made as much progress as I thought I had. The screaming pain in my chest was still there. I could ignore it, but I was about to break a sweat from trying. “Okay, do you want to go shopping with me?”

Silverstream shook her head. “Nope! I’ve got to go help my dad.”

I deadpanned. “Then why did—You know what? Never mind. I guess I’ll see you later then.”

Silverstream dropped down to the ground and blocked my path as I turned to leave. “Wait! I still need to ask you about something.”

I held my hand out flat and rolled my wrist, gesturing her onwards.

“Ok, here goes.” Silverstream inhaled, prepping herself for the question that was to come. “Have you ever played ring toss?”

“Uh, yeah? Who hasn’t?”

“Right?” she snorted. “Anyway, I need someone to work the ring toss booth today. Can you do it?”

“What kind of festival is it?”

Silverstream puffed up, her eyes shimmering with pride. “The High and Dry Hootenanny!” she announced, singing the last word. “Dad and I have been planning this one by mail for months!”

I snorted. “Hootenanny? Really?”

“What? It’s a fun word!”

“You hang around professor Applejack too much.”

“She says a lot of them fun words!” Silverstream said, poorly imitating the pony’s trademark drawl. I caught a hint of a blush as the fur on her cheeks puffed out ever so slightly. Had I just managed to turn the tables and fluster her a little?

Why did she have to be so adorable all the time?

I caught the thought and tossed it back into the sea of ideas that need never resurface, deciding to speed the conversation along instead. “So, why’s the hootenanny so high and dry?”

Silverstream grinned at my curiosity. “Because we love living in our old city again! High and dry, out of the water? You get the idea. But I really need your help and I don’t think I can’t make the festival work without you so will you pleeeeeeaaaase help me?” She pulled out the puppy dog eyes and got right in my face, her beak a single inch away from mine.

One inch.

Air raid sirens went off in my head, screaming at me to break rank and run for cover. I eased back a half step. I was wrong. I wasn’t ready. Didn’t anyone ever teach her the concept of personal space? Maybe I hadn’t noticed it before because of my obliviousness, but she seemed to love getting all up in my face every chance she got. How was I supposed to whip myself into shape if she got within kissing distance every time she saw me? I needed to keep avoiding her. Another few weeks of the silent treatment would be enough to rid me of this—

“Sure, I can help out today.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach as my body said the words completely on autopilot, stepping totally out of line with my conscious mind. Item number twenty-one on today’s list of reasons to be disappointed in myself.

Silverstream beamed and pounced on me with a quick hug. “Great! Meet me near the gate to the Harmonizing Heights at about four. I’ll get you set up. You’re gonna have a blast at this thing, just you wait!”

She was already airborne and flying off towards the treetops before I could leverage a response. “Great, can’t wait,” I said weakly.

What did I just get myself into?

More work and a cowpony hat, that was what.

I could easily tell that Silverstream had designed the ring toss game by just how forgiving it was. If I or anygriff back home had been the designer, I would have rigged it with rings just small enough that getting them to land on the pegs would have been nearly impossible. In this version of the game, small rings had been substituted for hula hoops, and the pegs for wooden barrels.

I didn’t hate it, though. In comparison to my usual duties, this was a lot more fun and worthwhile. Ring toss was popular with the younger hippogriffs, and awarding little knickknacks to fledgelings dressed like Equestrian outlaws beat scooping sailor garbage any day, though I wasn’t getting paid for this, as far as I knew.

For her part, Silverstream had chosen a pretty good spot for me to help out. Running a ring toss booth at a carnival held remarkable similarity to working at the markets in the Griffon Empire. I had to attract and hold the attention of customers and entice them to come and peruse the merchandise. There was no haggling here, but I could still use my entrepreneurial skills.

Well, I could have if I could focus on the job. Several hours in the booth passed with me distracted by the tangle of nervous thoughts in my head. I couldn’t put my all into selling the game with my mind running in circles, dreading the inevitable moment when she would come by to check the booth. What was I going to say to her? How would I say it? I had to walk a perilously thin line with every conversation so as not to betray my true feelings to her while also not seeming too aloof.

“Hey, mister?”

The voice pulled me back to reality, where I was face to face with short blue fledgeling with an excited smile on her face. She pointed to the barrel, where five hoops were stacked neatly around the top.

“I won!” she announced, her chest puffed out in pride. “I want the shark!”

“Hey, look at that,” I said, reaching up to the hidden shelf above my head where the grand prizes were stored and retrieving one large shark plush. It was nearly half her size. She took the plush from me and off she went, disappearing into the crowd before I could congratulate her.

My anxiety was making me run a carnival attraction like a morgue, just sitting there and moping instead of being proactive and working to bring in new players. No, I just sat there nursing the gigantic ball of butterflies in my gut. I did my job when griffs came up to the booth. I took their money and set them up to play, but that was it. I wouldn’t break any records with my performance.

Aside from my mediocrity, the High and Dry Hootenanny seemed like a big success. The entire market row along Main Street had been converted for the festival, the usual vendor stands folded up and set aside to make way for carnival games and a couple of stages at either end of the road. The Hootenanny theme meant that anyone working on staff was dressed in western wear. I had a ten-gallon hat on my head, and a number of the crowd were wearing dusters and Stetsons of their own. A few had even busted out boots with spurs on their hind hooves.

My booth wasn’t far from the gate to the Harmonizing Heights, so I could see the action at one of the stages. In the gaps between players, I got to watch the acts cycling through. An illusionist was putting up an impressive display on a big white screen held up behind him, and I had heard mention of sign-ups for an open talent show coming up at some point. In the sky above, flying races and agility competitions soared past every few minutes, and over it all I could hear the faint sound of fiddles and banjos in the distance. Mount Aris was usually a bustling place, but now it was downright crowded.

I watched the comings and goings idly during my downtime. It was the only thing that kept me from hyperventilating at the thought of when I might hear—

“Hey Gallus!”

Silverstream. There she was, a clipboard in hand, a duster draped across her shoulder and a wide-brimmed sombrero on her head, bustling over toward the booth as she worked her way through the crowd.

My chest tightened. “Howdy,” I said, actively trying to convey nonchalance.

“Ooh, getting in character! I like it. How’s everything going?” she asked.

“Good,” I said. “At this rate I think I’m going to run out of prizes in an hour.”

“I can go find more if you need them!”

“I was exaggerating,” I dismissed, though there was some truth to it. “How’s running the festival going?”

“As far as festivals go, this one is great! Dad and I have organized tons of them before. He does most of the real planning, though. I just go around and make sure everything is all running smoothly.”

I was doing pretty good at this whole ‘act casual’ thing. “So is your dad like the Mount Aris version of Professor Pinkie?”

Silverstream shook her head, “Not really. He’s nowhere near as crazy,” she said with a laugh. “This is just something he does for fun sometimes. He works for the navy just like you do!”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Just like I do? So he cleans trash out of the ships?”

That caught her off guard. “No!” she barked through an awkward laugh. “No, he’s in charge of a bunch of supply chain stuff. Doing festivals is like an extension of his day job so he’s, like, super good at it.”

“Looks like it,” I said, tossing a glance at the nearby event stage, where the crowd was cheering enthusiastically for the illusionist performer. “I didn’t know this many griffs lived here.”

“They don’t,” Silverstream said. “A lot of the attendees came up from Seaquestria and a few came from villages further up the peninsula.”

I nodded, and… I lost it. Suddenly I was fresh out of casual things to say. Now that we were done catching up, what else could I talk about? ‘Oh hey, Silverstream, wanna talk about how I totally don’t have a crush on you?’ Please. I wasn’t in any position to talk to her right now. Maybe if I just let her lead the conversation and didn’t offer much, she’d get bored and—

Wait. This was Silverstream. The hippogriff with an uncanny ability to get me to tell the truth when she saw something amiss. I had used a lot of my leeway to be awkward around her. If I didn’t stop acting weird, she’d get suspicious and pry it out of me. I needed to keep the conversation going, and fast. Damn the torpedoes, I had to say something!

“When are you going to take me down to Seaquestria?” I blurted out, though the damage had already been done from how long it took me to formulate the sentence. Silverstream’s brow creased for the briefest moment before she caught it and returned to her usual grin. She was onto me.

“Hopefully someday soon.” That was odd. For a moment I thought I detected a hint of sadness in her voice, but she quickly returned to normal. “Hey look!” She pointed behind her, noting a big group of hippogriffs coming down the road. “That’s a lot of customers. Mind if I help you run the booth for a little bit?”

It was less a question and more a statement, as she hopped over the counter and joined me in the booth before I had a chance to object.

It feels a lot smaller in here now, I noted as she brushed past me and her tail flicked the tip of my beak.

“Don’t you have other things to do?” I asked.

Silverstream waved off my question. “Everything’s going smooth, no worries. Plus I get to hang out with you some more!”

The lump in my throat swelled, but I swallowed it before it could choke me. I just had to play it cool for a few minutes. No different than the other hundred times we’d hung out before. I could do this.

“Step right up, folks!” Silverstream announced, filling the role of the carny without missing a beat. “Step right up! Try your claws at a game of skill as old as time itself!” The wave of new hippogriffs rolled in, the majority walking past us toward the stage at the end of the way. Thanks to Silverstream’s advertising, a small line gathered in front of the booth in under a minute. It put my customer attracting skills to shame. I averaged one every five minutes: she pulled five in one.

It made sense, I decided as I took the first griff’s money and passed her a stack of hoops. Silverstream was more exuberant than me. She was well-known around the city, so a familiar face would draw more interest than some random griffon that happened to be in the mix... and she was prettier than me.

I wanted to fight that thought, but it kicked loose others. While the customers stepped up to the booth and tossed their rings, I found my attention drawn away from the work and settling on Silverstream. She was in the zone, shouting words of encouragement and zipping around the booth, to the delight of the customers. She turned a plain, uninspired game of ring toss into an exciting, engaging challenge just by being there.

I enjoyed watching her work. She lit the booth up with her personality, and I found myself admiring it. A little bit of warmth in my chest flared every time she congratulated a winner, which was well over half of the players since the hoops were made so large.

The line dwindled quickly, and soon we were all out of new players. I was only halfway paying attention when she started talking to me. “...Busy today, huh?” she asked. I didn’t catch all of what she said, so I just nodded absently.

Silverstream hopped up and perched herself atop one of the barrels. “All this here hootenanny stuff has me pooped!” She wiped her mane out of her face, the long, sky blue locks cascaded out from under her hat and down her shoulders like a waterfall, caressing—

Stop. I forced myself to divert my attention toward the front of the booth. The crowd moved along, though it was thinner now. No customers in line to bail me out.

“Hey Gallus?” Silverstream asked.

“Yeah?” I croaked. Why was my mouth so dry? I cleared my throat and tried again. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last week.”

Dread built in my gut, but I didn’t look her way. “Yeah?”

“Did you really mean it? The stuff about wanting to go back to Griffonstone?”

In the midst of all the romantic tension in my head, I had forgotten about what I said to her after I fell into the stackberry bush. Right now, going home sounded like a good idea, but for entirely different reasons than what prompted me to say it in the first place. It was best to be consistent though, so I nodded. “I said I was thinking about it.”

“Well, have you thought about it?”

I hazarded a glance over to her. The warmth and exuberance she’d been full of moments ago were gone. That same shiny-eyed look of concern she’d given me while I broke down last week was on her face again, knitted brow and ears splayed back ever so slightly.

“A little,” I lied. “It’s kind of a big decision.”

“Then don’t go!” Silverstream blurted out, almost yelling at me. “Why are you thinking about giving up so easily?”

I turned away. “It’s complicated.”

Silverstream hopped down off the barrel, wings spread. She had more fire in her now. “It really doesn’t need to be.”

“It is, though.”

“Why is it?” she asked, the question almost accusatory. “I get it, your job sucks! I haven’t liked some of the jobs I’ve worked, but I never thought about running away from home because of them!” She groaned. “I know you’re not telling me everything. What is it? The food? Your apartment? Do you not like your roommate? What is it?”

“Silverstream—”

“Is it me?”

I winced.

“Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it! Please!”

The words hung over the booth like a bad omen, stifling both of us. Their heated nature earned a few head turns from passing hippogriffs outside. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. Lucky for me, she didn’t expect me to.

“I’m sorry,” said Silverstream, much more quietly. Her eyes glistened, threatening tears. “I just…” She took a breath. “It hurts when you don’t talk to me. After you told me you wanted to leave, you’ve been really distant. Every time I came over to see you this week you weren’t there. You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

“Silverstream—”

“Can you just tell me please? What’s wrong? Am I the problem?”

If only she could know the half of it. “No!” I stood up and walked over to her, hoping it would make me seem more believable. “No, you’re not the problem. Not even close. You’re one of my best friends in the world! Why would you be the problem?”

“Well, when you give me the silent treatment, what am I supposed to think?”

“It’s nothing like that. I’ve just been, you know, busy this week. I’ve been staying late at work a lot and going out on my own to explore things. It’s just bad timing that I wasn’t ever home when you knocked.”

Lying through my beak, yet again.

“So you aren’t going to leave?”

“Never said that.”

Silverstream’s eye twitched. “Are you kidding me? What are you… I...” she fumbled the words, growing more and more angry with every moment until she threw up her hands. “I don’t believe this! Are we not friends anymore? You can’t just keep lying to me like this and expect—” Her head snapped to the right and the anger evaporated immediately. “Howdy! Welcome to Ring Toss Roundup!”

I let out a breath as a new customer mercifully interrupted the conversation. Silverstream instantly abandoned her rant and went into some approximation of her normal demeanor. I shuddered as the air left my lungs. I had been dreading this moment. This was the price I had to pay for being shady with her, but I hadn’t expected her to catch onto my lies so quickly. Her words stung, probably just as much as mine had to her.

Two high-pitched shrieks assaulted my eardrums and interrupted my brooding. Silverstream had practically pulled a hippogriff mare over the table with a hug. For a second I thought she was taking out her frustrations on a customer, but the laughing and smiling told me otherwise. This was one of her friends. The mare had mint green fur with a streaked purple mane, a bit taller than Silverstream.

“Oh my gosh Laguna, it’s been so long!” said Silverstream.

“Girl, where’ve you been?” said Laguna when Silverstream let go of her.

“Oh you know, school and junk.”

“I know that, but why haven’t you come to see me since you got back?”

I tuned out of the conversation and turned to the hippogriff mare accompanying Laguna. She was bespectacled and stood with a bit of a slouch, hovering a bit awkwardly off to the side while Laguna and Silverstream chatted it up. You and me both, sis, I thought.

“And this is my girlfriend, Gale!” said Laguna. The ashy gray mare stepped forward and waved hello. “She came up from Seaquestria just for the Hootenanny. I told her she had to experience one of your festivals.” Her attention turned to me and a smirk grew on her face. “Ooh, is this your boyfriend?”

I could feel my feathers falling out of my head. Silverstream giggled and glanced over to me, “Nah, this is Gallus. He’s a good friend of mine from school. He's staying down here for work this summer.”

Wow, the friendzone was just as cold as they say. And yet I felt a little relieved?

Silverstream turned back to the couple. “Nice to meet you, Gale. Are you two gonna play a round?”

“How much is it?” asked Gale.

“Three bits for five throws,” I said. Gale nodded and passed the coins across the counter, and I exchanged them for the hoops.

The couple didn’t separate as they stepped in tandem over to Silverstream’s side of the booth. “Alright, lovebirds, here’s the rules!” Silverstream started. “If you can get a hoop over the barrel, you get a prize! We’ve got some fun stickers, glow in the dark keychains, or seashell necklaces for the small prizes. The grand prize is one of the big stuffed animals hanging out on the roof, and five hoops wins it!”

The couple glanced upward. “Oh!” said Laguna. “I want that sea serpent!” I felt slightly off-put by her choice of prize, but it wasn’t like I grew up in an area where sea serpents existed.

“Your wish is my command,” said Gale.

It was a little funny to watch the bookish hippogriff fumble with the hoops. She had atrocious form, but she still managed to land two of the five throws on the barrel. “Oh, ouch, sorry about that!” said Silverstream, gathering up the hoops from the floor. “Not enough for the grand prize, but you can pick out some of the regular prizes!”

“It was the wind,” said Gale, blushing faintly. She dropped three more bits on the counter in front of me. “I’m just getting warmed up. This time for sure.”

She got none.

Laguna had progressed from giggling at her date’s ineptitude to rolling her eyes. After Gale concluded her second failed attempt, Laguna walked over to the table and put three of her own bits down. “Watch and learn, bookworm,” she said as she bumped Gale out the way with a smirk. She concentrated on the barrel for a moment and let the hoop fly, settling it gracefully down around the barrel.

Her date’s face grew progressively redder with every throw. Laguna got three out of the five, and her misses were a bit closer to the mark than Gale’s.

“That’s three! Not bad, Laguna!” Silverstream reached up into the top of the awning and pulled down the stuffed serpent. It must have been two meters long, a green plush snake sporting a mustache and a head of hair.

“But wait, I only got three?” Laguna asked.

“It’s cumulative,” said Silverstream with a wink. “Go on, take him!” She tossed the stuffed serpent, which landed over Laguna’s back. She took the plush and wrapped it around her neck, bringing its face up next to hers.

“I think I’ll name you Slithers,” said Laguna to the plush. “We’re gonna go catch the show at the stage. Say hi to Terramar for me, will you?”

“Sure can!” said Silverstream. “How about we go get lunch sometime?”

Laguna beamed. “Let’s do it. Later, Silvers!”

Silverstream waved them off with a smile, and the couple turned to leave. I half expected her date to be all pouty, considering she’d just gotten what I would consider a nice big slice of humble pie. But as they walked away, I caught a glimpse of a shared laugh between the couple, followed by a playful swat of the tail from Gale.

My cheeks heated up as more intrusive thoughts injected themselves into my mind. A weird sort of longing swelled in me as the couple shared a laugh. I wanted what they had, but now I knew that Silverstream had me neck deep in the friendzone. Which is a good thing, I had to remind myself. It still didn’t ease the sting.

I averted my eyes. Desperate for something to occupy myself with, I pulled out the cash drawer and started counting out the afternoon’s haul—an unimpressive pile of coins, maybe a hundred bits if it were soaking wet.

I knew what was coming. Now that we weren’t helping customers, we’d go back to the conversation from earlier. Dread filled my guts, but this time it felt different. I needed to push back and get her off my case, but how could I do that without looking like a total jerk?

“So…” said Silverstream. “You never said whether you still wanted to go back to Griffonstone.”

“I don’t know,” I said, sorting the coins by denomination with a talon. “I don’t really want to.”

She threw her hands up. “So that’s it! You’re staying!”

I held up a claw to stop her building elation. “I’m not sure I want to stay here either.”

Silverstream deflated so hard that she almost started flying around the room like a balloon. “Ugh, why not then? What’s so bad about Mount Aris?”

“For starters, I don’t really fit in here.”

“Well, think of the positives then!” said Silverstream, somewhere behind me. “There’s all kinds of reasons to stay! Mount Aris is pretty. The food is great. You have a job that pays well. I’m here!”

Enough things in this conversation had already made me nervous. I just wanted it to be over. Of course the stupid, primal, ‘hmm, must pursue female’ part of my brain considered her a good reason to stay. Why wouldn’t it? She was nice, she was pretty, and she cared about me. And she was really pretty. What more could I want?

To not screw things up with one of the first friends I ever made?

The wrestling match between my conscience and my baser instincts raged while I stood up. I needed a sack to stash the coins in, and I thought I’d seen one in the back earlier. I whirled around and…

There she was. Right in front of my face. Our beaks one inch apart.

One inch.

Time warped. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there face to face with her, staring at her like a schmuck.

“Gallus?” she said.

“Eh?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good.”

“Are you sure? You seem a little… out of it all of a sudden.”

Reality began to catch up to me. “Nah, I’m good,” I repeated, forcing myself to stop gawking and get the coin bag I’d been after. I scooted past her and started rifling through the supply bin in the back corner of the booth.

The jig was up. Any second now, she’d ask me a question I couldn’t weasel my way out of convincingly. She was about to find out about my weird, misguided crush on her, and that would be the end of our friendship as I knew it. Maybe we’d still be friends after this, but it’d never be the same. She’d always have this little embarrassing tidbit on me, and it would definitely drive a wedge between us.

My heart sank. Maybe it would be better if I just came clean and explained myself. My limbs tingled with fear at the thought. Maybe I could salvage a little scrap of my dignity if I was the one to come out with it and tell her. I took a breath that rattled around my ribcage, doing little to steel my nerves. Here goes.

“Fine! If you’re not going to talk to me, then I’ll just go!” Silverstream stomped across the booth. Before she hopped over the front table, she stopped and chanced a glance over her shoulder at me. There were tears in her eyes, accompanied by a dejected frown that nearly tore my heart in half. She stood there staring at me with those glassy eyes for a few moments, her anger softening into more tears. “I get it, you need some space. That’s fine. I’ll leave you alone. Just… let me know when you’ve made up your mind, okay?”

The resolve I’d worked up drained out of my chest with my breath. I didn’t have it in me to stop her. “For sure,” I croaked, my mouth dry.

Silverstream sighed. “The carnival games close at nine, come find me if you need help closing up.” I could easily see the weight on her shoulders when she flew off and disappeared into the rest of the festival. Great. Now I was an emotionally confused mess and a jerk. I had hurt her by avoiding her after dropping that bombshell last week, and now I’d doubled down on the whole shutting her out business. How? How was it possible for one griffon to mess things up this badly this fast?

The rest of the festival sucked.

Whenever I got stressed, I had an old habit of pacing it out: back and forth, back and forth, sometimes for hours. Recently, I only did it the night before a big exam. But there I was, pacing back and forth in the den of my apartment.

Hyperventilating wasn’t part of my usual process, though.

I was already a nervous wreck from the incident at the hoop tossing booth so it came as a cruel twist of the knife in my chest when I got home and went to feed Sassafrass. She hadn’t eaten a single ant that I’d put in there that morning, and she hadn’t moved from under her log.

For a few agonizing seconds, I thought she died. On closer inspection, I found that she was still alive, but I knew she wasn’t acting normal. Desperately afraid that I’d done something wrong, I hightailed it out of the apartment and straight to the address Ty gave me for Diamond Glitz’s house.

That was fifteen minutes ago. My frantic knocking woke the hippogriff up, and she hadn’t been pleased about it. Once I explained the situation, she told me she’d be over in a few minutes.

And so, powerless until Diamond arrived to bail me out of possibly killing Ty’s beloved pet, I paced. While I walked the floor, my thoughts rested mostly on the plight of the little lizard in Ty’s room. How I was stupid and careless and shouldn’t have agreed to take care of an animal.

Self-deprecating thoughts often come in groups, so in the gaps between kicking myself over Sassafrass, I kicked myself over Silverstream and how I’d handled our little chat today. I was a liar and a coward. I was weak. Everything wrong with my life stemmed from my own inadequacy.

The door opened, pulling me back from throwing myself into the pit of despair. Diamond stepped in, a cup of tea in hand, looking less sleepy-eyed but still wearing the same purple robe she had on before. Wordlessly, I led the way to Ty’s room.

“She’s in there,” I said, pointing a talon at the glass tank. “Thanks for coming over on such short notice.”

Diamond breezed past me, heading straight for the lizard enclosure on the far side of the bed. “What’s she doing?”

“She only ate about half of the ants I gave her last night and didn’t touch them this morning.”

Diamond craned her neck down to peer into the enclosure. “Yeah, they’re digging tunnels in there. You gave her more when she didn’t finish the ones from last night?”

“I didn’t notice until they were already in there,” I said. “She’s just been sitting under her log all day, hasn’t moved as far as I can tell. Do you think she might be sick?”

“We’re about to find out.” Diamond flipped the lid off the tank and reached in, removing the log and revealing the statuesque Sassafrass. The lizard did not react to her cover disappearing, her eyes staying shut tight. With careful claws, Diamond plucked Sassafrass from her habitat and held her out on a palm.

“Hey there, Sassy,” Diamond cooed, stroking Sassafrass along her spines. She was lethargic, but I could see her eyes opening wide enough to show me she wasn’t dead. Diamond turned to me. “How long have you been leaving the lamp on?”

“I’ve been turning it off at night and leaving it on during the day, just like Ty said to.”

Diamond cupped her free hand over the lizard’s back and flipped her over. She gently felt Sassafrass’s underbelly with the back of her claws. “She doesn’t have any swelling or anything. Seems healthy. It’s almost like she’s just sleeping.”

“Depressed, maybe?” I offered.

Diamond considered it for a moment. “Could be.”

“Think maybe it’s because she misses Ty?”

Diamond stiffened. “Could be,” she repeated, flipping Sassafrass right side up and stroking her with the back of her talons. Sassafrass stayed still, but at least she had opened her eyes.

I watched her hands closely, noting the comfortable familiarity she had with the small lizard. Diamond was skilled at handling reptiles, much better than me. I hadn’t even tried to pick her up. I felt a little nervous about Sassafrass freaking out and hurting herself. “Do you have any lizards at home?” I asked.

Diamond shook her head. “Nope, just a cat who’s probably wondering where I went so late.” She sank back onto her haunches and cupped Sassafrass between her hands. From where I stood, her sitting down revealed the nightstand next to Ty’s bed. A small picture frame behind the alarm clock caught my eye. I walked over and picked it up. It was a picture of Ty and Diamond together in their seapony forms, beaks and manes replaced by snouts and dorsal fins. Both were making funny faces and wearing goofy accessories: an oversized sombrero on Ty and glasses the size of platters on her. He had his fin wrapped around her shoulder and a sort of tranquil grin on his face. Kind of like his usual calm demeanor, but more… happy?

I turned back to her. Even with my near complete lack of romantic experience, I could see something going on there. I’d noticed it last week at the rave, but now it was that much more obvious. Why had Ty never mentioned anything about it to me? Surely it would have come up when we were all together in the same room.

“When was this taken?” I asked, tapping the picture frame.

Diamond turned her attention away from Sassafrass, “Oh that? That was—” she paused for a moment to think, “—last year, I think it was at a sailors’ ball we went to. Why?”

“No reason,” I said, setting the picture back in its rightful place. The lack of outward signs to their now blatantly obvious relationship struck me as odd, but before I could push that angle any more, my mind used it as a springboard. I needed advice on how to get out of an awkward situation with a girl, and I had a girl right here that I could ask for advice!

“You mind if I ask you a semi-weird question?”

“You might get a semi-weird answer. What’s up?” said Diamond.

My mental gears jammed on the question. “I’m trying to think of a good way to phrase this,” I started. “Do you know anything about…like...uh...”

“Go on, spit it out.”

I slapped my palm against the side of my forehead. “I guess I should just give you some context.” I took a breath and let it out through my nostrils. “I have a friend that I’ve known for almost a year now. She’s awesome, pretty much the best friend I ever had. In fact, she’s the only reason I’m living here and have a job right now.”

“Sounds like a nice girl.”

“The nicest,” I said, “and that’s the whole problem. Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen her a lot more one-on-one than before, and now every time I hang out with her, it’s like—”

Diamond held up a hand and stopped me. “I think I—ow, hey! Quit biting!” She glared down at Sassafrass, who stared back with a mouth full of claw and a total lack of fear. She pulled her talon free from the maw of the wannabe dragon. “I think I know where you’re going with this. You’re looking for advice on how to ask her out?”

“Not exactly,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “It’s more the opposite, really.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The conversation lagged for a moment while Diamond stood up and returned Sassafrass to her tank. “So she’s after you and you’re trying to let her down easy.”

I blanched. “No. No! Not at all. I’m the one with the problem here.” I pointed a claw at myself. “I’m crushing on her and I’m trying to stop myself before I screw up and ruin everything.”

Diamond looked at me for a moment. I didn’t know what to make of the look. It was like she was confused, but also disappointed in me—kind of a scowl but not quite. “This is Silverstream you’re talking about, right?”

“Wait, you know her?”

“Hard not to,” Diamond said. “She’s a local celebrity. Royal family, ambassador to Equestria and whatnot.”

“That just makes it worse!” I groaned. “She’s important and popular, and I’m nobody. I wouldn’t have a chance anyway, so why am I getting all worked up over her in the first place?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down,” Diamond said. “Are you sure you want my advice? You might not like it.”

Reluctantly, I nodded.

“Be honest with her.”

I frowned. “Well yeah, obviously, but that’s kind of the whole issue here. I haven’t been honest with her since I got here, and now I’m too scared of her to tell the truth.”

“How much longer do you think you can keep up the lie?”

Thinking back to the extremely awkward incident at the festival from earlier, I couldn’t counter that.

“Exactly.” Diamond laughed. “You’ll have to come clean eventually. Best to do it on your terms. Clear the air, make sure she knows how you’re feeling. She’ll understand!”

“Is it really that easy?” I asked.

“Yep.” Diamond looked over at me with a sympathetic smile. “It’s gonna be nerve-wracking. But you’ve already had plenty of that, haven’t you?”

I nodded.

“Then it’s nothing you can’t handle. Have a little faith. If she’s worth having as a friend, she isn’t going to let something like this ruin what you have.”

For the first time since the festival, I cracked a smile. “Thank you.” I muttered.

“Best of luck with that. Silverstream is a good girl. You could do a lot worse,” she said with a wink that I frankly did not appreciate.

“And I think I know what’s wrong with Sassy,” Diamond said, walking across the room to the doorway. On the outside wall next to where the windows were, a small black square sat on the rib between panes of glass. Diamond did something to it similar to scratching downward with a talon. Slowly, the walls faded. The dark panels faded down until they were transparent, exposing the nighttime streets of Mount Aris.

“Whoa,” I said, turning my head all around and taking in the sudden lack of opaqueness.

“You had the shade panels darkened all the way. Have you been letting in any light from outside?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I didn’t even know that was a thing I could do.”

Diamond laughed. “Well now you do. She needs a little bit of sunlight in addition to the heat lamp, otherwise she’ll think it’s winter. Less eating, less activity.”

“Like hibernation?”

“Yeah, but with less sleeping and more just sitting there. Leave those panels open some during the day and she should start eating like normal again.”

“I’ll do that,” I said. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” Diamond did one quick survey of the room and stifled a yawn. “I guess I’m going to head home. If she’s not back to normal in a couple of days or starts swelling up, come get me.” Diamond took one last look into the tank and smiled. “Yep, she’s just sitting there under the log. Bye, Sassy,” she cooed before turning and making for the exit.

I snuck a glance back over to the picture sitting on the nightstand. Sudden curiosity hit, and before she could disappear down the ramp to the living room, I stopped her. “Hey, Diamond?”

“Hmm?”

I kept my eyes on the picture. “What’s the deal with you and Ty?”

I didn’t get an answer right away. She stood in the doorway with a troubled frown and stared at the picture on the nightstand.

“It’s complicated,” Diamond finally said.

“Complicated how?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out,” she said with a dry laugh. “Maybe we have something in common there.” Before I could pester her any more, she ducked down the hall and left.

“Silverstream, is everything alright?”

I glanced up at Dad, who stared across the table at me with a quirked eyebrow. His plate of shrimp with cream sauce was mostly gone; meanwhile I had barely managed more than a couple of bites from mine.

“You’re usually starving after a festival. Is something wrong? Did I put too much salt in the sauce?”

“No, it’s fine!” I took a big bite to demonstrate my interest in the food. I even went so far as humming my approval and closing my eyes while I chewed! But when I opened my eyes, his concerned stare didn’t go away. “See? Yummy!” I said through a mouthful of shrimp.

“Uh-huh,” said Sky Beak. He went back to his food and left me alone for a minute. I swallowed, but the food didn’t give me any satisfaction like it usually did. It was just as weird to me as it was to him. I always loved shrimp with cream sauce! It was one of my favorites. And yet I just... didn’t want it.

“So, I think the Hootenanny went really well,” he said, trying to break the ice. We’d spent most of the meal sitting in silence, and that was all my fault. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him. I was just distracted.

“How’d everything go with your friend from school?”

I fought the urge to spill my guts. “He did fine.”

I had conscripted Gallus’s help for that festival specifically so I could spend a little time with him and get him to open up to me again, but the plan had been cursed from the start. I told myself I did it “for science” or whatever, so I could finish my painting of him. I had even convinced myself of it, but the uglier truth was that I wanted to corner him. It only took me a few minutes to screw it up and ask him too strong of a question, and then he closed off. If he wanted to quit his job and leave Mount Aris, I was running out of time to find ways to get him to stay.

And that wasn’t even the biggest reason today was a disaster.

Fork clinking against plate on the other side of the table reminded me that I wasn’t alone. I had spent enough of dinner brooding that Dad was getting annoyed. Or scared? “Silverstream, will you just talk to me? Did I do something to upset you?”

It was rude of me to shut him out like that. He hadn’t done anything to deserve the silent treatment, but between my frustrations with Gallus and… the other thing I wasn’t going to think about right now, I didn’t have much to say to him. But now I needed to do damage control.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s not you. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

Sky Beak nodded slightly in understanding. “I know you’re upset that she didn’t come,” he said. “To tell you the truth, so am I.”

I felt something strain in my chest, but I held it together. “I just need a little time to think,” I said, getting up from my chair.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, clearly weirded out. His face said, “Since when do you need to go off and think about things?” but his mouth said, “Just let me know if you need to talk, okay? You can always talk to me about anything.”

I smiled and gave him a quick hug. “I know. Thank you, Daddy.”

He returned it. “Going to bed?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned across the table and picked up my bowl, passing it to me. “Take that with you in case you get hungry later.”

I took the bowl from him and smiled. “Thanks. Goodnight. I love you.”

Sky Beak smiled back. “Goodnight. Love you too, sweetheart.”

I left the dining room knowing full well that he would be up for a while worrying about me. It hurt my heart that I was worrying him so much, but I couldn’t think straight. Exhaustion, Gallus, and… Mom not showing up. All of it conspired to turn me into a recluse for the evening.

I went into the living room and climbed the spiral staircase that led up to the house’s second level, where my room was. We lived in a spacious tree, almost large enough to fly up to the balcony, but not quite enough to do it comfortably or without breaking something. As I crossed the balcony to my door, I looked at our family portrait hanging on the wall. All four of us in our seapony forms: Mom and Dad, me and Terramar.

I moved past it quickly before it forced tears into my eyes. I could deal with the third thing that I wasn’t thinking about right now later. It wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Right now, I needed to worry about Gallus and redoubling my efforts to get him to stay.

I flopped down on my bed and groaned into the pillow. Today had been a stunning failure. Not only did I not figure out my griffon problem, but I also tore open a wound I thought I’d put behind me already. Today was just... fantastic.

At least the pillow could accept my thoughts. Another groan escaped me, and I picked the pillow up and buried my entire head under it, my beak pressing into the mattress. Why was he giving me so much trouble? Sure, I knew he could be stubborn, but this was ridiculous! Why did he want to leave? Everything he ever told me about his home life or lack thereof was horrible! How could I have put him into a situation worse than what he started with? Was I that bad at this?

“No. I’m fantastic,” I said decisively into the mattress, though the sentence felt lifeless. That couldn’t be it. He might be working hard, but there was no way I offered him something worse than what he had back home. Gallus was a hardworking, logical guy. He wouldn’t just act like this without a reason. What could it be?

I racked my brain for the details of the day. He seemed fine when I asked him to run the booth that morning, but he got all quiet and stiff in the afternoon. Granted, me basically vomiting out my frustrations on him didn’t help, but he acted nervous. He was hiding something. I could see it in his eyes. The nervous little twitches back and forth, never quite looking at me straight on until he stared at me for like a minute without saying anything! What was that about?

I ran the moment through my head again. I told him to think of reasons to stay. Food, money, me. That was such a weird place in the conversation to freeze up. Thinking of me as a reason to stay made things awkward for him? Ridiculous! I was his friend! He almost acted like...

...He likes me.

My head snapped up, launching the pillow to the floor.

“Oh.”

Chapter 11: Bankruptcy

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“He likes me...” I thought out loud.

The words rattled around in my head like pinballs. “Gallus likes me.” I said it again, letting it sink in a little bit. After a few moments of staring at the wall, a smile crossed my beak. The smile gave way to a giggle as I retrieved my pillow from the floor. “Pssh. That’s silly.” I fluffed the pillow, rolled over onto my side, and closed my eyes.

But then they opened again.

“Or is it?” He sure had been acting weird at the ring toss booth, but that wasn’t a crush type of awkward, was it? It felt more like an “I’m not sure I want to be friends anymore” kind of awkward. Did griffons get confrontational when they were in love?

I wanted to laugh it off again, but this time it felt different. I hopped out of bed and flipped on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in dim light. Could it be so simple? Was he being cagey because he was crushing on me?

The easel in the far corner of the room drew my attention, the canvas facing the wall. I dragged it out from the corner, exposing the week-old stripes of paint crossing the mostly barren canvas. Immediately, memories flooded into my brain. The Harmonizing Heights. The personality test. Gallus stiffening when I caught up with him under the waterfall. Gallus jumping and flying off when I accidentally leaned against his shoulder. I believed him when he said he remembered his roommate needed help, and then he avoided me for a week.

In hindsight, it was obvious. “It’s a crush!” I exclaimed, beaming at the painting. “He’s not leaving because I messed something up! He wants to leave… because of me.” The smile melted off my beak like snow in a kiln. “Oh no.”

My bowl of shrimp in cream sauce was still on the nightstand, long cold, but I didn’t mind. Now that it wasn’t wracked with guilt, my stomach complained about the lack of dinner it got tonight. Not to mention I needed brain food. I popped a piece into my mouth and went back to the painting. Gallus wanted to run away because he felt awkward around me. That was very different from me needing to find him a new roommate. How could I fix that? Could I fix that?

Things were getting complicated. We were supposed to have a fun summer together, but he just had to go and catch feelings. Nothing ever stayed simple in the life of Silverstream. But it wasn’t like he was being clingy! In fact, it looked like he wanted to run away from his feelings. He was probably all kinds of torn up inside!

In a weird way, it was kind of cute.

My cheeks heated up as the implication of that thought settled in. I sat down on the floor and took another bite of cold shrimp. Chewing helped me think. How could I approach this? For as convoluted as the situation had become, it came down to a simple choice: yes or no.

I hadn’t ever thought about Gallus in that way. Did I want to take things past friendship with him?

“He is pretty cute,” I mused, tracing the dried paint lines on the canvas with a talon, the blue and yellow stripes sandwiching a soft pink one. “And he’s nice. Responsible. Hard-working.” I imagined him coming up to the doorstep with a bowtie, his crest feathers coiffed just right, taking me out to dinner at that fancy new café down by the shore. We’d go for a walk on the beach and hunt for seashells. Maybe I could take him swimming down at the big coral reef west of Seaquestria.

Going on a date with Gallus sounded pretty fun. In fact, it sounded like tons of fun! Gallus would be a great date. But what about our argument earlier? It probably had him messed up like crazy! If it upset me enough to lose my appetite, he’d be pacing the floor and agonizing over every little detail of what we said. It would take a miracle for him to get any sleep, the poor thing.

I polished off the last of my leftover shrimp and walked to my closet, grabbing a robe and slippers. If he couldn’t sleep, I could go over there and put his fears to rest right now. And then we’d both get a good night’s sleep!

I closed the bedroom door carefully and stepped out onto the landing. Dad had already gone to bed, and the den below was dark and still. A year ago, this would have qualified as sneaking out, but I was old enough now that he couldn’t enforce bedtimes and curfews anymore.

On the off chance he woke up and found me absent, I quickly scribbled out a note and left it on the breakfast table:

Went to go see Gallus. Needed to ask him a question about the Hootenanny. I’ll be back in an hour.
Love,
Silverstream.

The night air felt invigorating, despite the fact that my beak had started going numb by the time I slipped through a small gap in the forest canopy and landed on the path in front of Gallus’s apartment.

I knocked on the front door three times and waited. And waited. I knocked again, but still nothing. Neither of the two bedrooms in the tree’s branches were lit from the inside. I gave it one last try knocking on the door, but got no response. He was probably asleep after all. Even without the emotional distress I caused him, it had been a long day.

Still, I wanted some way of knowing I’d see him again soon. After the last week of him making himself unavailable, I had to make sure he knew I was looking for him. But how? I didn’t have any paper to write him a note, and I might have been frozen solid by the time I flew two roundtrips from here to home. Maybe I could carve a message into the front door?

“Nah, that’d creep me out too.” I scratched my head, but then my claws bumped something tucked against my ear. A pen! I must have absent-mindedly tucked it there after I left the note for Dad. Sometimes not thinking about things paid off! But I didn’t have anything to write on. Thinking fast, I flew up just high enough to touch the apartment tree’s branches and plucked a leaf from it.

The pen had trouble leaving marks that were legible, and I had barely any writing space. The point of the pen stabbed through the leaf in a couple of places, but soon enough, I had my note.

I slid the message under the door and let a breath out through my nostrils. Feeling a bit let down, I turned and took off. It was a little silly of me to expect to resolve problems like this in the middle of the night. I could just come find him tomorrow.

The tip of my tail twitched back and forth gently as I watched the road below me. I usually didn’t spend a lot of time sitting in tree branches since Griffonstone didn’t have many that weren’t the size of a city block. My legs ached from the awkward position I had to lay on the branch, but that didn’t matter. I was focused. A little discomfort was a small price to pay if it meant I didn’t miss my mark.

Hour three of my stakeout, give or take. My stomach rumbled and my eyes sagged, but still I waited. I had to be here if they went by. I had to know what they were doing.

I had always figured some sort of underground market existed in the nicer, more civil parts of the world like Equestria and Hippogriffia, but no signs of it were evident while I was in school. It had to be smaller business than what went on in the back alleys of the Griffon Empire, but I knew it was there. There was money in it. I just needed to find the way in.

Silverstream would never approve of this.

I let out a breath as the incident from earlier ran through my head again. The awkwardness. The lies, each one another shovelful of dirt out of the hole I’d dug for myself. She had come so close to finding out the truth. I came within an inch of giving her a tell-all worthy of the tabloids. If that happened, the metaphorical hole would have doubled as my grave.

And then Diamond said to be honest with her. That was crazy talk! The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was in too deep now. No matter what I did, what I said, she would find out. She would be hurt. She would stop talking to me and our friend group at school would fragment.

I was living on borrowed time anyway, so what did it matter?

Forget that noise.

A shadowy form approached from the front, and I froze. The fur on my back bristled and my claws kneaded into the tree’s bark. As quickly as my alert raised, it lowered. Just another regular hippogriff walking past on the path below. They paused at a doorway across the street and fumbled with their keys, eventually finding the right one and entering their tree, returning the scene to stillness.

It was about half past midnight now, judging from how far the moon had risen. They probably weren’t going to show up. Surely whatever they were peddling would be in higher demand because of the weekend, but maybe I just hadn’t picked the right tree. I’d encountered the smugglers on this path two nights before, but maybe they took an alternate route tonight.

I stifled a yawn, signalling that the time had come to head home, but first I had to get out of the tree. I had camped out on part of somegriff else’s home. If I made any noise, I would wake them.

Slowly, I slid myself down the branch, using the claws in my hind paws to cling to the bark. I didn’t make a sound as I left my perch, reaching the ground with a grace I could only thank the feline half of my genetics for.

I didn’t think about her as I walked down the road toward home.

Then: movement. Far ahead of me, almost out of sight entirely, two shadowy figures crossed the road. My attention deepened. I strained my sight to wring every last bit of detail I could out of the faint moonlight. I broke into a sprint, still taking care to keep as quiet as I could.

I reached the spot where I thought they crossed the road and slowed my pace, slipping off the path and following along in the direction they had been moving. I looked for any evidence of hippogriffs, searching for tracks or broken branches. The darkness made that next to impossible. Maybe if I had the ability to follow scent trails I would have been able to find it, but alas, griffons hunted by sight and sound, not smell. After stumbling around between the tree houses for a few minutes, I threw up my hands and gave up, returning to the main path and resuming my walk home.

“Must have been my eyes playing tricks on me,” I muttered, kicking at a pebble. I’d just resume my search tomorrow.

When I found my way back to my tree, my energy had slipped. Today had been long and taxing. I just needed to get a good night’s rest and forget all about it.

My knuckle brushed something on the floor as I entered. I flipped the light on, revealing a bright green leaf that I didn’t remember seeing when I left.

Whatever. I’d just clean it up later. I brushed it aside and went up the hollowed-out tree branch to my room, where my still-blanketless bed awaited. Maybe I’d have enough money next paycheck to buy some sheets.

I got up early the next day. My thoughts never fully left the smugglers. My dreams had me running after some shadowy figure, in a tunnel that grew ever smaller the further I chased it. The walls closed in slowly, cinching down inch by agonizing inch. The end of the tunnel never got any closer, like I was running on a treadmill. Try as I might, no matter how hard I ran or how loud I screamed, only the walls got closer. Just as stone pressed against my back and knocked me to the floor, I woke up drenched in cold sweat.

I didn’t know what it meant, but it was a very unsettling way to start the day.

I walked with purpose down the path toward Main Street. The sunlight streaked through the canopy in long rays over my head. The air felt a little warmer than the typical pleasant and crisp days on the mountaintop. I hoped it wouldn’t get hot up here too. Not on my day off. I did enough sweating during the week.

Evidence of the High and Dry Hootenanny had vanished overnight, and the normal stands set up along Main Street returned. The tents and the trash left by the crowds had been cleaned up, but I could see that the temporary stage near the main gate to the city was still being broken down. The layout of the tents had shifted a bit after the festival, throwing my sense of direction off slightly. It took me a few minutes to find the street I took a wrong turn on two nights before.

Bingo. There, just off to the left of the path, sat a shrub. I traced a line across the wide thoroughfare to another road on the far side. This was it, right where I’d followed the smugglers across Main Street Thursday night.

I retraced my steps down that path on the other side until it ended at a T-intersection. One tree to the left, and there it was. The door they’d disappeared into.

I knew enough about shady dealings that snooping about would be noticed and dealt with severely. I needed to keep up the appearance that I was just passing by. As I walked past, I took in every detail I could about the door. Red and wooden, nothing worth remembering. The tree it led into wasn’t what I would have expected of a hideout, though. It came complete with a picket fence and well-kept hedges, even with a cutely painted mailbox out front. It looked like a family home. Maybe that was the point? Hide in plain sight, operate out of a place that the authorities would least expect?

After a lap around the paths deeper in the forest along the northern edge of the mountain, I came back around and made one more pass by the smuggler tree. Again, nothing that suggested nefarious activity. Why those smugglers went here was anyone’s guess, and it left me with one less lead in on the market connection I wanted.

I was directly in front of the house when the door opened. Every muscle in my body tensed to make a break for it, but that would blow my cover. Play it cool, just keep walking. I watched the hippogriff who came out from the corner of my eye, taking in all the details I could. Female, magenta coat, deep blue eyes. She had pierced ears in addition to the pearl necklace and a mane that more resembled big feathers than hair.

Everything about her seemed ordinary. She didn’t seem to take much stock in me, casting a disinterested glance in my direction before she stepped out of the tree with a bag of garbage in tow.

Maybe I had the wrong house? There should have been some signs that something was up, but I had nothing. It was an ordinary house. An ordinary hippogriff taking out the trash. I’d just have to keep searching for answers if I actually wanted to get—

CLINK! Behind me, the girl dropped the trash bag by the path. It must have been full of glass, because it hit the ground with a nearly ear-splitting sound. She didn’t seem to care, walking back up the path without a second thought.

I paused as she disappeared into the house. Why were they throwing away so much glass? Could that be a clue? I shimmied off to the side of the road and hunkered down, watching the house for any signs of life. At least one hippogriff was inside, but I would just have to take the chance that they were busy enough not to notice me rifling through their trash. I backtracked around to the front of the house and slunk toward the mailbox. It looked like the curtains were drawn, so my luck held for now.

It struck me as a fitting metaphor for how far I’d fallen when I cut a little hole into the plastic bag with my claw. A dry chuckle rolled off my tongue. I couldn’t get away from the trash, whether it be dumpster cleaning or dumpster diving. Maybe I was the garbage all along.

At least I was with my own kind now. I pulled the bag open and peered inside, immediately noting a surprising lack of unpleasantness. Whereas the sailors produced only the ripest, juiciest, most rancid trash possible, this one didn’t smell like trash at all. I took a whiff and…

Wine. Strong wine. Among a light assortment of general garbage, the bag was mostly filled with empty wine bottles. While it wasn’t my place to judge another griff’s vices, it almost certainly wasn’t the result of a single hippogriff wetting their beak. I didn’t have time to ponder that, though. Every second I sat here was a second I could be caught. I slunk away from the trash bag and resumed my journey down the street.

The smugglers were trafficking alcohol, then. It struck me as a little odd considering how much drinking happened back home in Griffonstone, but then I remembered the rave. The back room where they served up swill to those who knew where to look. Alcohol was illegal here. That house had to be a distributor for some sort of underground liquor trade.

Emerging from the forest and joining the flow of the Main Street market traffic, I meandered without a course in mind as I chewed over the new information. The market square was busy today, probably making up for the time they lost closing early for the Hootenanny the day before. I needed food, so I swung by a stand selling freshly-caught fish. There were so many varieties on the ice that it made my head spin. The river near Griffonstone only had a couple of species, but those were bony and tasteless. These were huge and colorful.

After a few minutes of indecision, I came away with a couple of pounds of shrimp and halibut, both things I hadn’t eaten before. The best part of living here was definitely the seafood. I may have been beaten down and alienated from everything else, but these hippogriffs sure made some good fish. Surely Ty had some spices stocked at the apartment I could use to cook myself a nice meal later.

I turned to start my walk back home, but I only made it a few steps before I stopped in my tracks. My attention locked on a tall clay pot sitting on the ground in front of an odds and ends dealer. The pot was unremarkable, but it forced a connection in my head. It looked a lot like a pot that griffons used to ferment wine.

I knew how to make wine. I also knew how to sell wine.

“How much for that pot?” I asked the vendor.

A few minutes later, I dragged a heavy clay pot down the path toward my tree. The vendor wasn’t very keen on haggling with me, and I didn’t really have anything to trade to sweeten the deal. I paid full price for the pot, which left me with just five bits to my name until my next paycheck on Thursday, but I’d be fine. If my idea held any water, it would pay for itself in no time.

As tempting as it was to roll the pot for convenience, I knew better. One pebble hitting the side wrong would leave me with a pile of clay chips in the road. I just had to keep dragging it along, lugging it on two legs. At least there wasn’t far to go. I worked up a bit of a sweat getting it down the road, but soon enough I got to my tree. I kicked the door open and then heaved it up the steps, plunking it down on the living room floor with a heavy exhale.

The pot doubled as a way to carry my food as well. I took its lid off and reached down into it, retrieving my shrimp and halibut. Those went straight to the fridge. I then grabbed a drink of water and toweled the sweat off my brow. Just one more push up the ramp would do it, and then it was relaxation time.

When I walked over to the pot, I took a glance at the incline that led to my room and immediately thought better of it. A short break on the couch was in order before the final push. It wasn’t like anygriff else was going to come in and ask me why I bought large pottery for no reason.

My body melted into the cushions when I flopped down. I’d been working myself pretty hard since I came to Mount Aris, and my muscles were grateful for the downtime.

I took a deep breath in through my nostrils and let it out through my mouth. While my body rested, my brain had some work to do. If I wanted to get into winemaking, I would need supplies. Yeast and sugar were available at the market. Easy enough, but getting enough fruit to make a worthwhile amount of wine would be tricky. The market didn’t have a ton of selection, and the prices there weren’t super cheap. Griffonstone had the same problem, but grain was plentiful, so the griffon drink of choice was beer. I didn’t know of a way to make an appetizing form of alcohol from fish, so wine was really my only choice, but buying fruit wouldn’t be economical.

But I can get it for free. I dug around in the fur on my chest and found one of the thicker scabs from the stackberry bush. Silverstream had told me that they grew wild in the area. That meant they had to be abundant. And freely available! It was the obvious choice. The thorn bushes that had forced me into an uncomfortable situation with Silverstream would get me out of a different one. If this worked, they’d make me a fortune.

My tail twitched back and forth on the floor as thoughts of money drifted through my head, but then it brushed against something. I lifted my tail and found a leaf clinging to the tuft of fur at its tip. After a failed attempt to shake the debris loose, I snatched it with my claws, but before tossing the leaf aside, I noticed some dark lines scrawled across its back.

Need 2 talk 2 U. ASAP. Ring toss stuff. -SS.

I frowned at the note. It was just like her to push the issue even after I’d ruined everything. She never knew when to quit. And writing messages on leaves! She probably just pulled a leaf off of the tree and used it. Like I was supposed to check my floor for random leaves with messages on them! On what planet did she think that would be a reliable way to deliver messages? She could be so spontaneous sometimes that it was a problem.

Before it bugged me any further, I threw the leaf back to the floor. It didn’t matter. Not anymore. I’d see her when I saw her. With the newfound annoyance to fuel me, I hopped up and started dragging the pot toward my room.

The sting of exertion in my muscles didn’t mask the dull ache in my chest.

Watching afternoon thunderstorms bubble up and rain themselves out had become a favorite activity of mine over the last few weeks. As the heat and humidity swelled, so did the clouds. Every afternoon was a game of chance. Would a storm blow over and cool us off, or were we going to swelter in the sun all day and not cash in on the humidity that we were stuck with either way? It was anyone’s guess.

Boredom and monotony had nearly pushed me to the point of starting a betting pool, but that would require the other workers to actually talk to me. I tried every now and again, but none of them ever seemed interested in holding a conversation with me. Small talk wasn’t something I shied away from, but I couldn’t make it happen here.

“Afternoon!” I chirped, forcing myself to stay upbeat as I pushed a greasy cart that smelled of rotten fish toward the trash pit. The hippogriff passing me cast a sideways glance and muttered a hello back. So went my typical interaction with the sailors, day in and day out. At first I didn’t understand it, but lately, I’d come to a realization.

I wasn’t one of them. The navy was like a family. The griffs here held a certain respect for each other. They looked out for each other, even if they were strangers. But me? The outsider who didn’t earn his way in here? Regardless of how secretive Silverstream and Queen Novo may have been about putting me here, I still stuck out like a sore thumb. I hadn’t gone through training. I wasn’t from here. To my knowledge, I was the only griffon within a thousand miles. I just scooped trash out of the ships and would be gone in a few months. They didn’t respect me. Why should they?

At least I had the thunderstorms. A rumble overhead brought my attention back to the sky. Sure enough, the clouds overhead had grown dark and pregnant with rain, ready to birth a torrent onto the harbor. Today, I would get the cooldown I wanted.

As I returned to the latest ship and began tying the ropes to my cart to lower it into the hold, a few fat raindrops splattered on the deck. I quickened my pace. If we were due for a downpour, I could at least stay dry for a little while longer. I tied off the ropes and hoisted the cart, dropping it through the cargo hatch and into the hold. Once below deck, I pushed the cart to the side of the open hatch so it wouldn’t sit in the rain while I filled it.

In the few minutes it took me to pile the trash into the cart, the shower came in. A flash of lightning lit the cabin for a brief moment and thunder echoed off the mountain overhead, starting as a gentle roar before ramping up to a booming peak. The rain funneled into the open hatch, pooling on the cargo deck. It didn’t seem like a good idea to leave it open during a storm, but I hadn’t been trained in how to close it. Thinking back to the way the navy griffs treated me, I didn’t feel a strong desire to go above and beyond. Soaking myself to the bone was enough.

The rain trickled between my feathers and fur, the cool water a shock against my overheated skin. I hoisted the latest trash load out and untied the ropes, paying little mind to it. I was going to enjoy the rain. It was just about the only thing I could enjoy anymore.

As I pushed the cart toward the mainland, my thoughts drifted toward home. All of the misery and loneliness I dealt with there seemed to pale in comparison to what I felt now. The scheme I’d cooked up the previous day didn’t sound so appealing anymore. My conviction to not worry about Silverstream had dried up. It was just a thin veneer of denial. Ruining my friendship with her hurt. A sharp, burning pain, far worse than anything I would have dealt with if I’d just gone home instead of going through all of... this.

Maybe I’d make good on the lies I told her after all. I could just take my paycheck on Thursday and buy a ticket to Griffonstone; put all of the failures of my first three weeks here behind me.

At the pit, I unceremoniously turned the cart over onto its side and watched the trash fall into it, assisted by the torrential rain pooling at the base of the garbage pile. I turned the cart upright, and then we started the cycle again.

I was about to turn back onto the pier when I nearly jumped out of my skin. An alarm bell mounted to a pole above me suddenly ringed loudly and frantically. Where the docks had been mostly devoid of activity, in seconds a flood of hippogriffs came out of the ships and from the dry dock area. Faced with overwhelming confusion, I did the only thing I knew to do: get out of the way. I pushed my cart into a gap between two crates on the edge of the pier and stood by it.

The other sailors cast a few glances in my direction as they went where they were trained to go in case of emergency. The bell rang for a minute longer before it ceased.

“What the hell is this about?” shouted a familiar gruff voice. From around the corner came the pale blue form of Lieutenant Cedar Breeze, clad in a bright yellow poncho. “Who pulled that alarm?” He stormed past me without sparing a glance.

He disappeared into the curtain of rain, and that concerned me. I assumed the officers would be in the loop on surprise drills, but he sounded just as confused as I was. That meant this had to be real. My stomach fluttered. Were we under attack? Was something about to explode? Was it a rock slide from the cliffs above the docks?

It took me a few seconds to process the sudden gravity of the situation. We had no visibility thanks to the downpour, so whatever threat lurked out there could come from any direction. Without warning.

Suddenly, being alone sounded like a terrible idea. I left my cart behind and ran as fast as I could on the wet stone, trying to catch up to the one familiar face I had to cling to: my mildly bigoted boss.

I caught up to him near the southernmost pier. He was in the process of directing a few sailors off to where they were needed.

“Lieutenant?” I asked.

He whirled around to face me, his face as serious as a heart attack at a funeral. “What?”

“Reporting for… duty?”

Cedar Breeze started to roll his eyes, but he caught himself. “I guess I need every set of claws I can get. Go take up watch on the pier. Make noise if you see anything.”

“Yes, sir! What do I need to look for?”

“Anything.”

I gave him my best approximation of the proper salute and marched out onto the wooden pier. This was the most lightly used pier in the harbor, and today only one ship was moored here. I found a position that looked out to the south and hopped on top of a crate.

Looking for ‘anything’ didn’t set my mind at ease. It only told me how poorly prepared we were for whatever was coming. I searched around for weapons, but there was nothing in easy reach that I could use. I was defenseless.

BOOM! A flash of lightning striking close by nearly made me bail into the water below. It was probably against safety regulations to be sitting out in the open during an uncontrolled lightning storm. But that was probably the least of our concerns right now. We were under attack!

Probably?

I kept my eyes trained on the sea, or at least the dozen or so meters of it I could view before it dissolved into gray. I couldn’t even see the end of the pier from my position.

I heard a few commands and orders shouted over the storm to my right. More griffs were arriving on the scene. Reinforcements were good. I was drenched to the bone and shivering, but I had a job to do, and I would do it. I would keep my watch and hope that everyone else did theirs.

A little bit of sunlight returned as the storm let up a bit. Visibility increased quickly as the rain tapered back, which gave me some relief. I could practically watch as more of the immediate area became visible, until—

Ship. I jumped up and squinted into the haze, just barely recognizing its outline, maybe a hundred meters out. That’s a ship coming right at me.

The lieutenant said to make noise if I saw something. Griffons were built for that. I took a breath in and pushed.

“ROOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAR!”

I threw everything I had into that roar. My throat burned from it, and I could hear it echoing off the cliffs above the harbor, quickly replaced by the sound of claw- and hoof-steps racing up the dock toward me. Cedar Breeze was flanked by half a dozen sailors. “What in Tartarus was that, recruit?” he shouted.

I took a breath in and choked on it. It had been a while since I did that. “Ship!” I coughed. “Due south, a hundred meters! Ship coming right at us!”

Cedar Breeze took out a sight glass and followed where I pointed. A fat pause filled the space between the raindrops as we waited. I held my breath. Slowly, the spyglass lowered.

“It’s one of ours.”

I stole a glance at the ship. The rain lightened further as the storm wound down, revealing more details. The ship only had one mast, which struck me as odd considering its size. Instead of sails, it had oars run out, pushing it toward us slowly. As it closed the gap, I began to notice damage. Jagged stumps on the deck showed where the other masts had once stood. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it was listing to the left a little.

“Go to headquarters. Get all available talons to Pier One, on the double,” Cedar Breeze said to one of the griffs behind him. The messenger saluted and flew off. Wordlessly, the lieutenant waved the other griffs on the pier forward, the group taking wing at once and flying out to the ship. I assumed the command to follow didn’t include me, so I stayed put.

Over the course of a few minutes, griffs gathered on the pier. They used ropes to reel the ship in sideways toward the pier. When it was perpendicular to the dock, I could see the full extent of the damage. The entire starboard side was riddled with holes big and small. I finally got a look at the bold white lettering on the side of the ship’s bow: Eidothea.

Why did that sound familiar?

The damage was horrifying up close. Through a peppering of holes I assumed had to be from cannonballs, I could see hippogriffs moving around on the inside of the ship. There must have been two dozen holes dotting the length of it. And yet, somehow, it was still afloat.

The ship bumped against the dock with a dull thump, and the dock crew began mooring it. Another crew brought in a gangplank and ran it up to the top deck. In a few moments, the ship’s crew began to disembark.

Eidothea’s crew were battered and bruised, many covered in some sort of black tar that stained their coats and feathers like ink. They moved slowly down the plank, shuffling along like they were ready to drop at any moment.

The first few off the ship seemed fine, if exhausted, but then one with bandages came out. And another. One griff’s head was wrapped up, and another limped on a bandaged hind leg. They weren’t so filthy, but their injuries seemed to grow progressively more severe. A griff missing her entire left front leg hobbled slowly down the plank, immediately assisted by a couple of dock crew griffs as soon as she reached the bottom.

A sudden sense of duty outweighed the shock of seeing such severe injuries. I qualified as spare dock crew, so I joined the group at the base of the gangplank. When another amputee came down the ramp, I pushed my way forward and offered myself as a crutch to a bright green griff with a missing hind leg. Being shorter than the average hippogriff made me just the right height to act as a crutch.

“Thank you,” he said weakly, wrapping a foreleg over my shoulders. He wasn’t as heavy as I expected, but then again, I’d been tackle-hugged by Silverstream enough times to know that hippogriffs weren’t as dense as ponies.

“Don’t mention it,” I said. “Where are we going?”

“Our captain said—” the sailor coughed dryly “—they’re setting up a triage station at the dock entrance.”

“Works for me.” I concentrated on keeping my steps even to match with the injured griff’s slow pace.

I had a lot of burning questions about why this ship had so clearly been attacked. I snuck a glance up at the sailor’s face, noting his sunken and sad eyes. He looked like he’d been used up days ago. Asking him to tell me what happened to the ship was probably a bad idea, but I figured starting a conversation would help keep his mind off the pain.

“You got a name?” I asked.

“Nimbus,” he breathed weakly.

“Nimbus,” I repeated back. “Do you live up on the mountain?”

He shook his head. “No, I stayed in Seaquestria.” We took a couple more steps before he turned his head and looked at me. “I didn’t know we had griffons in the navy.”

I laughed. “Turns out I’m the first one.”

The rest of the rescue operation bypassed us on our slow trek toward solid ground. Most of the other crew from the ship were in better shape than Nimbus. A steady flow of griffs sped past us in both directions. I glanced over at the others just as Lieutenant Cedar Breeze passed by. Our eyes met, and I half expected him to say something to me, but he just gave me a quick nod.

On the step that transitioned from wooden decking to solid stone, Nimbus faltered, leaning more heavily into me. The stump of his missing left hind leg pressed into my back, and he winced. I assured him, “Just a few more steps, buddy. Almost there.”

The triage center was hardly set up at all. A few medics had assembled with basic first aid kits, but they were quickly getting overwhelmed by the sheer number of injured griffs. Just like on the dock, the catwalk that led from the docks to headquarters was bustling. It seemed like the entire navy had mobilized.

One of the medics noticed us, rushing over and pointing to an open spot on the ground where I could drop him off. We hobbled over to the spot together and carefully lowered Nimbus down. I crouched onto my belly as he lowered himself and rolled off to the side, keeping the stub of his missing leg elevated through the roll.

Nimbus more or less collapsed onto the ground and immediately relaxed on impact. Instantly, he was surrounded by two medics. “Thank you,” he muttered, though he wasn’t looking in my direction.

I left the medics to their work and started making my way back to the ship, finding my spot among the stream of sailors heading that way. It looked like the last of the crew was making their way down the gangplank now. The group on deck had shrunk to just a few, and workers from the dock were making their way aboard with tools, probably to stabilize the ship so it didn’t sink.

When I got back to the group around the gangplank, they had helped the last of the Eidothea crew. The situation seemed well handled, but I decided I’d hang around as long as I could in order to avoid going back to trash detail. There were no more griffs to assist to shore, but surely I could find some other job to assist with.

A few dock workers carried various items down from the ship, and I gravitated toward them. Unskilled labor was my forte. I spread my wings and flew up to the ship’s deck.

When I landed, my eyes went wide. There, standing right in front of me and surrounded by several high ranking officers, was a familiar face. His salmon-pink mane was greasy and tangled, and a big, blood-stained bandage wrapped around the pale yellow fur of his arm.

“Ty?” I asked quietly to myself. Now I knew why this ship’s name sounded so familiar.

The group of navy brass started moving toward me, seemingly headed for the gangplank. I sidestepped, hoping to avoid getting noticed. The higher ranking griffs didn’t even look at me, but they had all walked ahead of Ty. He had a limp thanks to the injury on his shoulder. Unlike the commanders, he noticed me straight away and paused.

We stared at each other for a brief moment. I could read how exhausted he was from his eyes, red and embedded under dark, deep circles.

“Hey, dude,” he said, flashing me a tired smile.

Words failed me. “Hey.”

He kept on walking before either of us thought of anything else to say.

Chapter 12: Face to the Door

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I took the pocket watch out of my vest, tapping a hind hoof against the floor impatiently. Five minutes late. “Queen Novo, are you quite ready?”

“Just a minute, Sea-bee!” she replied casually from behind the folding screen where she had spent the last twenty minutes primping and preening.

I threw a little eye roll at her nickname. “Please hurry, we’re already running late as it is.” It was a good thing she couldn’t see me from behind the screen. Faced with nothing to do while I waited on her to finish dressing, I stepped out onto the room’s personal balcony to get a breath of fresh air.

Of course, the air outside wasn’t exactly fresh. The city of Arini was not as beautiful as the brochures claimed it would be. Sure, it boasted plenty of strikingly white stucco buildings with bright orange pottery roofs, and they were pleasant in their own right. Wide cobblestone streets bustled with activity as the parrots of the city moved about their daily business, and a seemingly endless parade of titanic airships streamed in and out of the port on the western horizon, their bright white gas bags catching the dawn's first rays. It was an impressive sight, but one key detail kept it from qualifying as beautiful.

I leaned forward over the balcony railing. Perhaps it had been beautiful once upon a time, but that was hidden in a layer of soot and smog. During the height of the Storm King’s occupation, Arini had become the industrial heart of his empire. What had been a simple port town two decades ago now boasted a bustling and productive manufacturing hub on its west end, one that belched smoke into the air with abandon. Prevailing westerly winds then carried that smoke right into the city proper most days. When Ornithia was liberated, the citizens hadn’t let go of their newfound economic prosperity. Industrialization breathed new life into the ancient town, but that breath was choked with pollution.

The gleaming palace we were lodged in mirrored the architecture of the city around it, all soaring arches and white walls, though these were built of much more expensive and sturdy marble. Still not immune to the filthy air, though, I thought, running a claw along the railing and leaving a faint trail through the grime that had accumulated on it.

As far as seats of government went, it was fairly modest. Real estate on the stone outcrop the palace was perched atop came with a strict limit, and it hailed from a time before building taller was easy. Despite its relatively small size, the palace made up for it in its position. It was meant to be visible from anywhere in the city, a symbol of some old king who had built it. The view it commanded over the city below was impressive.

But I’d had enough time to take in the sights. “Almost ready?” I called over my shoulder.

“Seaspray, do I hover over you when you’re writing orders to your commanders?” I stayed silent. Nothing I could say would help my cause. “Exactly,” she added after a moment, “I’m almost done; calm yourself.”

Arguing with Queen Novo was usually a losing prospect, so I cut my losses and turned my attention back to the city below, noting the details along the horizon. Strategic points: the harbor, the factories. It was ultimately useless information in peacetime, but after a lifetime of military planning, it was hard not to gravitate toward them.

That thought made me frown. Anyone else with such a grand view before them would be content to take in the sight and enjoy the moment. It was my first time seeing Arini from above, and yet all I could think about were what points I’d target in an assault? Had all my years in command left me unable to enjoy the smaller things in life?

Briefly, the thought of retiring early crossed my mind. I still had plenty of good years left in me, but sometimes the notion of hanging up my uniform and stepping out of the hot seat sounded like a dream. It amounted to nothing more than idle fantasy, though some days it sounded better than being responsible for the fate of an entire nation or simply having to butt heads with Queen Novo over every little thing.

I had a duty to the hippogriffs in my charge, I supposed. The navy needed a leader, and they seemed to think I was the right griff for the job. Until a day came that I was no longer fit for service, I would stick by it.

“Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?” came Novo’s voice from behind me.

I turned around to face her, giving her a look from beak to hoof. She didn’t spend much of her time as a hippogriff anymore, though when she did, it reminded me of what things had been like before the Storm King; when times were simpler and we were younger. She had a few more gray feathers, but that same old self-assured smile on her beak was still there, a challenge to the world to keep up with her. Her outfit was quite pleasing in its simplicity: a sash of rich purple silk complemented her ivory white feathers and fur, adding an extra layer of sophistication alongside the crystalline blue and gold of her regalia. Not a single detail out of place.

She was beautiful, and despite my annoyance with her, I couldn’t deny it. A bubble of warmth rose through my chest, and I smiled. “You look splendid.”

“Thank you!” She did a quick curtsy but then frowned. “Oh, hang on a sec,” she said, crossing over to me. She reached out and straightened one of the medals adorning my vest. “There, now you look splendid too!” she laughed, mocking my verbiage.

My eye roll was involuntary. Regardless of how useful the time had been for her appearance, we were still late. “Let’s get going,” I said, trying and failing to mask the irritation in my voice.

“Shouldn’t we talk over our strategy a little first?”

I shook my head. “We’ll walk and talk.” I crossed the room and opened the tall, intricately carved wooden door, courteously allowing the Queen to exit first. Our steps echoed through the high hallway, the clicks of our front claws and the clops of our rear hooves reverberating through the space. “Step me through your plans again?” I asked. This was Novo’s affair, after all. I was merely here to assist.

“Schmooze and mingle.”

I waited a moment for her to elaborate, but she said nothing. “That’s it?”

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed.

“No plan, just go in and hope for the best?”

She nodded. “Free-form jazz.”

My eye twitched. “And here I thought you would have cooked up a master scheme.”

“I believe in the beauty of improvisation!” Her voice rose slightly out of defensiveness. “Conversations can’t be planned in detail. You have to just go with the flow.”

“The flow, being?”

“Well, there’s only one thing I had in mind,” she said, patting the newspaper tucked under her wing. “You remember the griffon we hired.”

“How could I forget the griffon you hired?” I rolled my eyes again.

Novo laughed, ignoring my little barb. “He’s my ace in the hole! They finally published the article about him a few days ago.”

I had to fight the urge to grumble my frustrations aloud, but I couldn’t help the bit of snideness leaking into my voice. “And was the article to your satisfaction?”

“It was perfect—thanks to you. Glad to know that your connections at the Daily are still good.”

“Right,” I grumbled, choosing to omit the fact that all I’d done was mail them a tip. The story they decided to tell was entirely up to them, and I wasn’t about to lift a claw to make it the right one. It was dumb luck that they hadn’t turned it into a smear piece. “And you’re planning to woo the griffon delegation with a week-old newspaper?”

“If I can’t convince them with my words, then the words in the paper might help.”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

Novo looked at me, her confident smirk souring. “I’m getting the feeling you don’t have faith in my abilities, Seaspray.”

“I have faith in you, it’s the others I’m worried about,” I said, which was only half of the truth. It wouldn’t do to tell her that I was still cross with her.

We came to the end of the corridor, turning right and immediately encountering a double door flanked by two parrot guards in shining golden armor that obscured their eyes. This was the kind of outfit that was designed to unnerve political enemies. An imposing, flashy presence that served to subtly remind those who entered of the might that governed this place. We didn’t need to bother identifying ourselves, as the guards pushed the doors open for us without a word.

“Just watch me go to work,” Novo said, ending the conversation on that note. She thanked the guards for getting the doors for us, but I kept my eye on them. Eyes forward, fixed in the same neutral expression. These parrots were well trained.

Inside the room, there was a low din of chatter from a very wide assortment of creatures, most of them decked out in the wildly varied formal attire of their homelands. Zebra in their traditional brightly colored robes, parrots in their shiny silver and gold regalia. Camels and deer were in attendance as well this year. I vaguely recognized a few of them, but there was little familiarity in the room that I could see immediately.

Queen Novo went directly for the Griffon Empire’s delegation. I lagged behind her and instead made my way to the refreshment table on the far side of the room. An ice sculpture of a parrot in mid-flight stood proudly at one end of the table—down its length was a beautiful and wide-ranging assortment of richly colored hors d'oeuvres. Bunches of grapes, assorted cheeses, candied oats and nuts, and even a few selections of meats for the carnivorous guests in the room. The food wasn’t of much interest at the moment, but the beverages at the far end of the table caught my eye. An array of bottles of various sizes and shapes, most of which I could only assume were alcoholic.

When in Ornithia, do as the Ornithians do. I rarely drank, given the laws in Hippogriffia, but this was a special—and legal—occasion. I recognized the squat, crystalline bottle of brandy in the center of the liquor rack, and I helped myself to a small glass.

With drink in claw, I turned to observe the room again. Queen Novo was rubbing elbows with all of the Griffon Empire’s half-dozen ambassadors, leading what would certainly be a riveting conversation if I were a politician. I could not overhear them, their words lost to the low roar of voices throughout the room. Truly, she was in her element. Similar conversations were happening elsewhere. It was impressive to see so many different species from around the South Sea all mingling together in the same room. Griffons, zebra, camels, parrots, deer, and…

A dragon? That was odd. I had never seen a dragon at one of these conferences in the past. I did recognize her, though it took me a moment to make the mental connection. She was quite small for a dragon, coming close to my own height, and her lithe build and shimmering blue scales stood out against the earth-toned fur and feathers of the majority of the attendees. She held a scepter tipped with a huge red crystal in one claw and a glass of some liquor in the other, thin blue flames wisping from its rim.

“Dragon Lord Ember!” I waved at her and started walking over. She noticed me and didn’t exactly perk up, but there was a glimmer of recognition in her eyes.

“Uh, sorry,” she said, just the barest hint of embarrassment in the slight smile she gave me. “I know I remember you, but you’re gonna have to help me.”

“General Seaspray,” I said, offering a claw to her. “We met when our student ambassadors to Equestria’s Friendship School went missing.”

Her eyes lit up as she shook my claw. “Right! Sorry, it’s been a while.”

I laughed off her faux pas. “It’s quite alright, second-in-commands are much more difficult to memorize.” I tossed a glance over my shoulder at Queen Novo, who appeared to have made fast friends with the griffon delegation. “How is Smolder, by the way? Our Silverstream speaks very highly of her.”

“She’s doing… well,” she said, her eyes shifting. “I bet you hear all about it from your student.”

“Oh no, not me,” I laughed. “I merely served as the escort for that first trip. Her father is the one who gets the earfuls. I only receive the necessary bits and pieces.”

Ember nodded and smiled. “That’s about the same reason I was there that time, too. Smolder isn’t my drake. I only see what’s on the progress reports from Princess Twilight.” She paused to take a sip from her drink, the flames no problem for her fire-resistant face. “But she is doing well!”

“Ah, I understand.” The common ground I thought I had with her didn’t go very deep. A subject change was in order. “So, what brings you to this conference? I wasn’t aware the dragons had business on the South Sea.”

“We don’t. Well, not yet, at least. Really, I’m just here to scope things out.”

“Not yet?”

“I’m sure you know that the Dragon Lands aren’t formally recognized as a nation.” I nodded, and she continued, “There’s been a lot of push lately to make it a real country, so I figured this would be a good place to start. Making a presence, that is.”

“How splendid!” I said. “I’m sure you know that land disputes are sure to happen, right?”

Ember nodded. “Thankfully, the portion of the Equestrian Badlands we occupy is pretty much empty. Nobody else but dragons would want a volcanic waste like that. We’re working on a treaty to Princess Celestia, but all of this statecraft business is pretty new to dragons. We’re starting from scratch, and it takes time.”

“I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor.” I raised my glass of brandy. “To the Dragon Lands!” Ember raised the glass of whatever flaming liquid she was holding, and we both drank the toast. “I cannot speak for her, but you should seek an audience with Queen Novo about this. I would bet my medals that she would love to support your cause. It pays dividends to have allies, you know.”

“I’ll do that. We thank you for the suggestion,” she said, trying out a slightly more formal tone with the royal we, the irony in the statement clear. This was a much less standoffish dragon lord than I recalled from our previous meeting. She was more pleasant when her student ambassador wasn’t missing.

A bell at the front of the room chimed three times over the din of the room. The meeting was about to begin.

The crowd in the room gravitated toward the front, where a positively massive, semicircular table with the middle hollowed out stood. It had likely been custom-built for the event, big enough to seat each delegation with wide gaps between each seat, but no unused space. Name tags signified where to go. I found my and Novo’s tags about halfway between the crest of the semicircular table and the wall, and we arrived at our places simultaneously from opposite directions.

“How did it go with the griffons?” I asked, thankful that their delegation was separated from us by the zebra, who had no less than a dozen members present. No chance of them overhearing.

“Perfect,” Novo said. “All it took was a little bit of coaxing, and I practically had them eating out of my palm. We’ll be having trade talks after the main meeting.”

It was little consolation, but at least the trouble I’d gone to for her little griffon PR stunt hadn’t been for naught.

From the crest of the table came another ring of the bell. “Welcome, delegates, to the second annual South Sea Rulers Conference!” The voice was a bit gravelly yet distinctly feminine, belonging to a bright green parrot with a crest of yellow feathers atop her head. “I am Chancellor Romunda of Ornithia, and I am honored to be selected as host of this year’s exalted assembly. We will begin with introductions to all participating nations.”

Starting from the far end, Chancellor Romunda read off introductions. Prince Catawba led the delegation from the Kingdom of Cervidas—a small dusty red buck with antlers adorned in an array of jewelry. The griffons were led by their Emperor Gretchen, who had come wearing only an ornate gold crown. The Zebra were spoken for by a mare in brightly colored traditional robes, Zetiri. Romunda represented the parrots of Ornithia, Novo stood for the hippogriffs and seaponies, King Hormoz for the camels of Camelu, and Dragon Lord Ember was called on last, conspicuously crammed at the other end of the table. It was probably a stroke of good fortune that she had even been allowed to attend in the first place.

As Novo’s accompaniment, I had little to do other than fill a chair. Much of the meeting did not concern me; nearly all of the time was devoted to purely political matters: border disputes, tariffs, foreign trade allowances, et cetera. The territorial issues were of a bit more interest to me than the rest, but they were between countries on the other side of the South Sea from Hippogriffia. The griffons and the deer of Cervidas had been arguing over survey details and easements at the conference last year, and that hadn’t changed. Cervidas was a relatively new nation, having won their independence from Griffon Empire rule not long before the Storm King took control of the region. In gaining their freedom, they had also cut off the Empire from their access to the sea, which Emperor Gretchen was not happy about.

About half an hour had passed in the talks when I received a tap on the shoulder. It was Sapphire, the leader of our guard detail. “Sir, there’s a courier here for you. Says it’s of critical importance,” she whispered.

“Critical?” I whispered back. I looked back at the table. The spotlight was still on the far side of the room, so that left me with plenty of time to slip away from the table without making a scene. I tapped Novo with a wing, mouthing the word ‘urgent’ to her as I left.

Out in the hall, the courier was still catching her breath, wings held out from her sides slightly to help with cooling. “Sir,” she wheezed when I came into view, snapping a salute.

“Let’s take this back to my quarters, shall we?” I said, nodding to the two parrot guards flanking the door. We three hippogriffs walked in silence down the corridor and back to the suite Novo and I occupied. Sapphire waited in the hall while the courier and I went in.

“From HQ, sir,” said the courier, passing me a scroll with the naval seal embossed on it. I took the parchment and unrolled it, skimming the document with haste. It nearly fell out of my claws by the time I got to the end.

My navy had been attacked.

Pushing myself through the initial shock of the revelation was difficult, but I needed to take charge of the situation. It wouldn’t do to stand there stupefied in front of a subordinate. “How long until you’re ready to fly back?” I asked the courier.

“A meal break and half an hour’s rest, sir.”

“Good. Meet me back here in one hour to take a reply. Dismissed.” She nodded and saluted with a wing before turning and speed walking for the door. I shut it behind her, letting my forehead rest against the oak paneling for a moment as I took a deep breath to steady myself.

An attack. One ship lost, another corvette crippled. Dozens killed or missing.

“Damn pirates,” I muttered, shredding the scroll with my talons. The anger gave way to a morbid, dry chuckle. At least now I would have something to keep me busy in that dreadfully boring meeting.

The door closed with a click, and with that click, I let my shoulders sag. Well, my left shoulder sagged. The right one was immobilized, the arm in a sling. The wound burned ferociously under the bandages, but I was pretty much used to it. Pain medicine had been in short supply on the voyage home, and what little we had was reserved for those with the most severe injuries.

I was one of the lucky ones who could live without it.

Navy HQ was a hive of activity in wake of my arrival. As it turned out, limping into port with a partially shredded ship full of partially shredded crew was quite a shock during peacetime. The paper pushers who worked in the tunnels deep under Mount Aris were in a frenzy, bustling back and forth down the corridors, breezing past me as they went about their business.

I could only imagine what the muffled voices on the other side of the door were saying. Four of the navy’s five Commanders—of which Commander Waves was the one missing—were locked in a heated debate following my debrief.

Debrief, yeah, I scoffed to myself. It felt more like an interrogation. A bright light directly overhead, the four officers sitting in the shadows of the otherwise dark room, notepads and quills at the ready, piercing stares from all directions. It was all designed to make me feel the squeeze. Even the questions had an accusatory edge.

“Who made the judgment to operate outside of the ship’s given orders?”

“Why was the ship attempting search and rescue without a prior threat assessment?”

“Why was there no communication with headquarters before or during the engagement?”

They hadn’t said it outright, but it was obvious they were trying to assign fault to Captain Virga, even though she was dead. Someone had to take a fall, right?

I rested my head against the door for a moment and let out a shuddering sigh. It was out of my claws now. My duty was done and I’d been dismissed; now it was time for me to go and get some rest. I began the long hobble out of headquarters, awkwardly making my way on three legs, my right arm held up in the sling.

They just had to choose a conference room in the deepest bowels of the HQ tunnel complex. At my slowed pace, the walk seemed to go on forever, lost in an endless labyrinth of twists and turns. The longer it went on, the more annoyed I grew. The corridors were tall enough for flight, but unfortunately, my injury prevented that. Flapping my wings jostled the shoulder too much. If I tried to take off, I’d just tear my stitches or maybe force the lead ball still inside my arm even deeper. I’d made my choice to forego treatment. Other griffs had worse injuries; they needed to be seen first.

And so I walked. Tired. Filthy. In pain.

It felt like an eternity, but I finally found my way to the front of the tunnel complex. I wasted no time making my exit. Darkness had almost fallen, only the faintest touch of sunlight coloring the horizon in burnt orange. The cool and still air smelled faintly of the sea’s salt. A few crickets chirped in the distance, mixing with the sound of...

Muffled screams of pain. The navy’s infirmary was attached to the main office complex, a much smaller extension of the tunnel system that had its own door to the surface right next to the office entrance. I’d been through it a couple of times, and I knew it wasn’t huge in there. With the number of injured we’d just brought in, the small medical bay was overwhelmed. It had been a few hours since our arrival, and they had made a big dent in the numbers of wounded, but there were still a small number of minorly injured griffs like me waiting outside on the ground, maybe a dozen or so. The screams were coming from those worse off who were already inside.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

That voice cut right through the fog in my brain, and not in a good way. My hackles raised ever so slightly on instinct.

A mirthless chuckle was punctuated by the faint crackle of a long drag on a cigarette. “Well, a sore eye, at least.” Leaning against the wall next to the infirmary door—half of her face obscured by bandages and the other half smoking like a chimney—was the last griff I wanted to talk to right now.

“Moraine.” I acknowledged her dismissively, starting on my way. I had no reason to stick around any longer.

“Hey, wait up a second,” she said from behind me.

“Yeah?” I stopped and turned my head just enough to watch her out of my right eye.

“How’d it go in there?”

Somehow, I thought I detected a little sincerity in her words, at least enough of a difference from her usual casual indifference that I turned around to face her. “It went fine,” I said, keeping my response vague.

“Come on, you have to give me more than that. What did they say to you?” This was definitely a rare mood for her. She seemed almost... friendly.

It kind of creeped me out. “It was just a standard debrief. To all four commanders at the same time.”

Moraine whistled her impression. “That must have been a sight to see.”

“It was.” I looked out at the horizon, watching waves lap against the rocks in the bay surrounding Mount Aris. I weighed the options before me. I could just go on my way and disregard her, as the sensible part of my brain told me to do. She probably only cared about my debrief to see if she needed to worry about her job.

But I decided to walk over toward her anyway. Moraine being even slightly cordial with me was rare, and part of me wanted to see what was making her act this way.

“Can I steal one of those?” I gestured to the pack of cigarettes in her hand.

She seemed taken aback, but smiled wryly. “You smoke?”

“Not that stuff, usually. But my head is killing me.” I plopped down on the ground next to her, leaning my back against the stone wall and letting out a breath.

“Sure,” she said, passing me a cigarette and a matchbook. I cupped my palms around the flame and lit the cigarette, taking a brief inhale of the acrid smoke. It tasted just as bad as it smelled, and I reflexively coughed as my lungs balked at the smog I’d thrown into them.

That got a laugh out of Moraine. “You better stay away from these things. They’ll have you hooked before you can blink.”

Another pull, another cough. “Good thing I hate the taste.”

We sat there in dead silence for a minute before she spoke up. “So, what becomes of the crew?”

“Effective immediately, you and I are placed on paid administrative leave, pending investigation,” I said, quoting the commanders directly. I took a puff from the cigarette and managed not to choke, this time keeping most of it in my mouth. “The crew who weren’t wounded will get two weeks of leave, and then they can either transfer to a new ship or work dock detail until Eidothea is repaired.”

“Fantastic.” Her tone held none of the enthusiasm the word required. “And I assume that means we can’t take a vacation?”

“You’d be right,” I said. “We can expect plenty of information requests. I bet you’ll have your debrief after you see the doctor. By the way, how’s your eye?”

“Hurts like hell. Cardia said ‘never say never’, but it’s a lost cause. No way they’ll be able to fix that kind of damage.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I sufficed it with, “That sucks.”

“It’s my life now.” She took a long drag from her cigarette, which was nearly down to the nub. “How’s your shoulder?”

“Hurts like hell,” I said, adopting her terminology. “But it’s stable enough; I’ll just come back tomorrow to get it looked at.”

Moraine nodded, and we slipped into a moment of silence, both content to let the nicotine do its work.

“So, what’s the plan to get back at those bastards?” she asked after a moment.

I shrugged my left shoulder. “Not much telling. We know the coordinates, so there’ll be a full complement of ships sent out there to investigate soon enough. After that, it won’t even concern us.”

Moraine scoffed. “And let someone else get the glory of taking those vultures down.”

“That’s about the size of it.” I took another drag. “Fine by me.”

“You’re okay with that?” I was sitting on her right side. If not for her bandaged eye, she probably would have been glaring at me.

“Yeah.”

“How? Aren’t you pissed off?”

“Yeah,” I repeated. “I’d like to wring that parrot’s neck, same as you.”

“Then why are you fine with just sitting here?”

Because we’d get killed if we tried, I wanted to say. My breath hitched before I could get the words out, so I chose a different answer that was easier to say out loud. “It’s out of my claws. Not worth worrying about.”

Moraine sneered. “Where was that indifference when we found the smoke plume?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she spat, venom dripping from her words. “If you hadn’t talked Captain Virga into abandoning our charge—”

I blinked. “You think this is all my fault?”

She laughed mirthlessly. “If I had my way, I’d still have both my eyes.”

“How dare you try to pin that on me,” I snarled, fighting to keep my voice level despite the boiling rage clawing at the base of my skull.

“Someone’s going to, especially now that you’re Mr. Big Shot in charge of the ship. You might as well hear it from me.”

Suddenly, I remembered why I never talked to Moraine. The best option was to walk away. “We’re done here. Thanks for the smoke,” I said flatly, flicking the butt aside and jumping up to start the long hobble toward home. I heard her say something after me, but I didn’t bother listening. It served me right for trying to talk to her. I should have expected nothing less.

The anger was enough to make me forget the pain from my shoulder, at least briefly. Without thinking, I spread my wings and pushed off, pumping them once and instantly regretting it as a lance of pain tore through my shoulder. I glided back down gingerly but nearly tumbled end over end as I skidded to a halt, cursing under my breath the whole way.

Getting to the top of the mountain was going to be an ordeal.

The wind had turned icy in the last few hours. At long last, we were almost there.

Progress came with difficulty against near-constant headwinds the past two days. Sailing in a tacking pattern meant a constant game of adjustment, zig-zagging back and forth and using the ship’s keel to make headway against the breeze and still get where we needed to go. It had grown to nearly a gale now, the clouds heavier and the seas angrier with each passing hour.

Such was the cost of needing a secure, remote place to do business. The hippogriffs rarely sailed this far south—nearly to the edge of the Great Ice Sheet. There was no point for them. Cyclones grew especially intense at this latitude, but they were regular, like clockwork. With enough time spent in these waters, one could figure out their patterns and work around them.

I had put in the time. I knew the storms.

Knowing was only half the battle, though. One also needed the skill and timing to make it through in the gaps. A few hours too early or late, and you’d be sunk or blown halfway around the globe if you survived. As captain, I always kept a close watch on the barometer. Headwinds typically meant the closest storm was moving away, and sure enough, the pressure had risen slightly in the past hour. We were in the gap. Another successful passage to The Keep! It would be at least another five days before we’d have an opening to set out again.

Five days was less time than I wanted. After all, a master plan was best created at its own pace, when the inspiration hit. The luxury of time had since been spent. I was committed now, and I would have to figure out my next move quickly. I leaned forward and rested my head on the railing, watching over the side as Green Haze’s prow clipped through the big, heaving waves below. There was something mesmerizing about the way it parted the water, slipping through the swells like a sharp knife through warm butter.

“Captain Sternclaw.” A voice behind me broke my trance. I turned to see the familiar face of a dull blue parrot, standing with her wings crossed.

“Yes, Astra?” I answered.

“We’re almost to The Keep. Don’t you think it’s time you addressed the crew?”

I sighed, returning my gaze forward and leveling it on the misty horizon. “I guess I’ve put it off long enough. I’ll do it once we’re berthed.”

“Aye,” she confirmed, spreading her wings and flying back to her post in the ship’s wheelhouse. I stood up, feeling a crick in my back as I rose. How long had I been hunched over the railing?

Long enough, I judged from the furtive glances the crew gave me. Surely they sensed something was wrong, what with their captain hanging his head over the bow for so long, but everything was perfect. Better than perfect! As far as they knew, we had just scored a major victory.

A perfect battle didn’t make a perfect war, though. Our first strike had been a nasty sucker punch, a bloodied beak the hippogriffs would no doubt be reeling from for weeks! But they would regroup, and now they would be sending every ship they had to hunt us down. Our next move would have to be equally perfect, or it would be our last.

But the crew didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

The mist on the horizon gave way to a large, looming black outline, revealing the first glimpse of our destination. The Keep wasn’t much, perched on a small outcrop of weathered black volcanic rock that poked above the sea’s angry waves. The remains of a dead volcano, the crescent-shaped island surrounded a small harbor that occupied the volcano’s crater. It made the perfect shelter for our ships in such a hostile environment, the island absorbing much of the sea’s force and leaving calm and stable waters in that small inlet.

Scattered around the island were an assortment of huts and a few larger buildings—mostly living quarters for the crew, but we had our own tavern and a few communal buildings as well. Getting supplies to such a remote base of operations was difficult, and it was a bit modest compared to some of the other hideouts I’d seen in my time. But in real estate, location is everything; that was where The Keep shone. It wasn’t extravagant, but it had anything a swashbuckler who didn’t mind the cold could need, all in a safe and secluded location away from the watchful eyes of the Hippogriff Navy. Even during his reign, the Storm King hadn’t come this far. Much like the hippogriffs, he had no reason to. I had yet to even find a map with this place charted, not even on the best and most expensive editions.

It was pure luck and probably some sort of divine intervention that I was the one to discover it. Years ago, while running from one of the Storm King’s patrols, I had somehow perfectly timed my passage between the South Sea’s storms and happened upon this place. It was the only thing I could credit with letting me evade the hippogriffs for so long.

And if my plans were successful, I wouldn’t need it much longer.

Green Haze eased through the narrow passage and into the safety of the harbor first, followed by the rest of our four ship convoy: Mother of Pearl, the cargo ship we’d just picked up; and the two schooners we hadn’t lost in the battle. The crew didn’t need orders to get us there, having come in and out of The Keep enough times that it was nearly muscle memory. The great black sails lowered above my head as we passed through the channel. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The last bit of the distance to the docks was a slow and steady coast, passing without incident. A few other crew that staffed the place in our absence ran out of a hut near the shore when they noticed our approach, and with some shouting back and forth to the crew on board, they tied off the mooring lines just as the ship came close enough to reach. With a satisfying lurch, we came to a stop, and a gangplank lowered.

We made it.

I climbed to the top of the wheelhouse, took a breath, and rang the ship’s bell twice. “Listen up!” I shouted between the rings. The deck crew were still busying themselves with the mooring lines, while the others from below deck were beginning to emerge. The motley assortment of parrots, Abyssinians, zebra, and the occasional griffon turned toward me. Their faces were filthy—no doubt their bodies were, too, underneath the winter gear they had donned—but under the filth, those faces were bright. Excited. It bolstered a bit of energy in my chest.

I waited about half a minute for more of the crew to pour out topside, and then I began. “I won’t keep you long, but that was some damn fine work you lot put in out there. Those navy bastards had no idea what they were up against!” A rousing cheer from the crew interrupted me, and I smiled. “That’s right, they were just routed by the finest crew sailing on the South Sea. You should all be proud.”

I took a breath as more cheers broke out from the crew. Too much positivity was dangerous. “This is merely the beginning. Now they know we’re here, and that we mean business. We’ve bloodied their beaks, and now they’ll be coming after us harder than ever before. There’s a lot of work ahead of us yet.”

The mood had come down a few notches. Now for the closer. “It’s all according to plan. Now that we have the shards we need, we can begin the next phase of our operation.” For effect, I pulled one of the severed necklaces out of my pocket, regarding the cloudy gem dangling from it. From the neck of Itroscia’s captain to my claws—the rest we’d stolen were in a crate below deck, but this one was a personal keepsake. I held it high for all to see. “This is the key! Little do those hippogriffs know that those gems they wear around their necks will be their undoing. In a couple of months’ time, we will be free to roam the seas on our own terms. We’ll be the ones in charge!”

A murmur of excitement swelled. “But for tonight, we celebrate. Double rations for every sailor, and all the grog you can drink! Now off you go!”

I surrendered the spotlight as the crew erupted in cheers and chants of my name; some of them even started dancing. Nothing like the mention of extra food and free booze to keep everyone’s spirits high. The merriment lasted a few minutes as Green Haze’s sailors disembarked, many of them heading straight for the tavern building.

I stayed around on the deck for a little while, making small talk with the stragglers and joining in on a bit of the fun, but as they trickled into The Keep and its comforts, I slipped back below decks to my quarters. The flimsy wooden door that separated my cramped little cabin from the rest of the crew deck closed with a quiet click, and I let out a breath, leaning my head against it. The crew could enjoy this evening, but not me. There was simply too much to do. I needed time to sit and think.

Taking a seat at my desk, I looked over a few of the papers scattered around its surface. Detailed maps of The Blades, with coves large enough to hide a large galleon like Green Haze circled in red ink. Lists of contacts I had in the various port towns around the South Sea. I would need those very soon, especially with the jewel of my small fleet wearing such a big target on its back. Getting around was about to prove more difficult than before. Daylight would be the greatest danger.

It had been two days since our attack. No doubt the naval command was aware of what had happened by now. Investigation would come before retaliation. I could anticipate the area around The Blades to be absolutely crawling with hippogriffs in the next few weeks as they searched the area for anywhere I might be hiding. Not that they would find anything other than the torched hull of that skiff that had been run up on the rocks when Eidothea slipped through my grasp.

It wouldn’t provide any clues. We had made sure of that.

That meant they’d be fanning out far and wide. Putting ships on every outcrop they knew of in an attempt to smoke me out. I’d have to come ashore somewhere eventually, and they’d be there waiting for me when I did.

As much as it pained me to think it, Green Haze would be taking a sabbatical. My next move would have to be done stealthily—that was where the captured merchants would come in. I snuck a glance out the port side window, watching as the dock crew worked on berthing the boat. Mother of Pearl was to go missing permanently. Renamed, refitted. Disguised to look like a fishing boat and not a freight hauler.

We had five days. Plenty of time to make the changes needed. The worst part would be coming up with a fake name for the ship. I hated naming ships! It was so difficult to come up with ones that fit.

Another glance out the window toward Mother of Pearl made up my mind. Laziness won out. “I’ll just let the crew come up with names and pick the best one,” I mused aloud. Problem solved.

That brought me back to what we were actually planning to do with it. Sure, we could sail out of here on a disguised ship, but we had to make use of our time.

There were several items on the agenda. First of all, the shards. I needed expertise to make that happen, the kind I couldn’t get without traveling. Luckily, I knew just the zebra. An old friend who was well versed in magical artifacts. An arcane tinkerer. Unfortunately, she lived in the coastal range of Zebrica. To get there, it was a straight shot across some of the busiest routes for navy ships going back and forth between Mount Aris and Greenfin Island.

I scoffed. All this trouble, just for a diversion.

The hardest part of all of this was the act. The crew had to believe we were getting some sort of tactical advantage from the hippogriffs’ pearls. The ugly truth was that those shards were as useful to me as flight feathers on a penguin, but I had to act like they were going to save the day—like somehow we were going to win just because we had them.

A superweapon, I had told them. One powerful enough to force those hippogriffs back into the sea and keep them under the waves forever. One that would keep us in charge of these waters as long as we lived. One that I had cruelly slain scores of hippogriffs in order to obtain the parts for.

“I just kicked a huge hornet’s nest,” I muttered to myself. Staying on top of this situation would surely be a huge problem. I had convinced my crew that our plan was achievable, that it wouldn’t send us swiftly to the bottom of the sea or the end of a rope. If they caught even a whiff that things weren’t as they seemed, I’d have a mutiny on my claws. It was a delicate balancing act, and I had taken my first step out onto the tightrope. No turning back now. My gaze turned toward the map of the South Sea hung on the wall, lingering on that little beak-shaped peninsula labeled Hippogriffia.

“Sooner or later, I’m going to find out how hard they sting.”

Chapter 13: Let's Talk

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Sitting outside in the top branches of a tall tree during a thunderstorm was probably not the best idea. In fact, it was a terrible idea, but sacrifices must be made sometimes! I had to do it since it was pretty much the only way to get a hold of Gallus. If I couldn’t get him to come to me, I had to go to him. This strategy had worked once; surely it would work again. I just had to be patient.

Then came the storm. Sudden! Electric! Full of the coldest raindrops that had a knack for finding their way right through my feathers! I toughed it out for a few minutes, but then flash-BOOM! Lightning struck somewhere behind me, so close that I could smell ozone lingering in the air. I almost jumped out of my skin as I leaped from the treetop, retreating to the safety of the apartment below. Gallus wouldn’t mind me letting myself in for something like that, right?

I stole a towel from the bathroom pit and dried the rainwater out of my feathers, resolving to go back out there the moment the storm broke. For now, the couch would serve as my safe and dry perch.

I flopped down and let out a sigh. A few loose feathers clung to the couch, all of them from a particular blue source. I picked one that was close to my face up and idly ran a claw through its vanes. Had he gotten my note? I thought it had been conspicuous enough, but he hadn’t come to find me like I asked. Then again, it had only been eighteen hours. And he had work today.

Okay, maybe he just hadn’t had time. That was understandable, but you’d think he’d make time for me if there was romantic interest involved! Every boyfriend I’d ever had would have dropped everything at a moment’s notice if I said the word. The desperation was real—and so consistent that I’d just assumed that was the default setting for boys.

Was Gallus built different because he was a griffon? In the past, he had talked at length about griffon society and all the aspects he hated about it. Certainly, he would have mentioned that at some point. Then again, I couldn’t remember talking at length with any of my friends at school about different courtship styles for their species. That was a subject I’d have to bring up with Ocellus next time she wrote me back. Ocellus knew everything!

For now, I would just operate on the assumption that there weren’t many huge cultural differences between us. I’d tried to come up with so many other explanations for his behavior in my mind: a death in the family; sleep deprivation; a rare planetary alignment that had thrown his magical balances out of whack and made him irritable and awkward and cagey. If there was any possible reason, I’d already thought of it. Every time, it always circled back to crushing crush anxiety.

And so that left me with one clear choice. I hated to see my friends in any kind of distress whatsoever. If there was a problem, I would do everything in my power to make it better. In this case, the power to alleviate the problem fell to me and me alone.

I hopped up from the couch. A few minutes alone with Gallus for a little chat, and then all would be well. The summer would be back on track—maybe even a little better than expected! He’d be along any time now, though a glance through the window revealed no cute blue griffons. The rain had let up a bit, but there was still enough that it made me think twice about going out there. Would he mind if I stayed here?

No, I chided myself. This apartment was not my space to do with as I pleased. I’d already overstayed my welcome by letting myself in, so I needed to go back outside and wait like the good friend I was. After a little straightening up to make it like I was never there and a sweep for loose feathers of my own, I nodded to myself in satisfaction and went for the door—

And then it yelped. I jumped back in surprise. Doors weren’t supposed to yelp. My heart fluttered a bit as I pulled the door the rest of the way open, only to find an empty doorstep, a few blue feathers resting on the steps.

“What are you doing here?!” croaked a voice from above. I followed the sound to its source and found the Gallus I was looking for, clinging to the side of the trunk with his claws. He was soaking wet and trembling, his feathers and fur matted down. He looked more like a distressed chicken than a proud, regal griffon.

“Oh, you know, just thought I’d drop in,” I said, scratching the back of my head sheepishly.

Gallus released his claws from the tree trunk and dropped down to ground level. “You need to be more careful,” he said, pushing his way past me and dropping his knapsack on the floor. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to care that I had let myself in. He hopped down into the open bathroom hatch and returned a moment later with a towel, drying his face first and then working his way around to—

“Is that blood on your back?”

I pointed to a big splotch of dark red above the base of his tail. Gallus inspected his rear half and said, “Huh,” but otherwise stayed silent, going to work with the towel. The bloodstain had been partially washed away by the rain, so it didn’t take him long to remove it. He then unceremoniously threw the reddened towel into the kitchen floor and started for the door.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, rushing toward him once he was done drying himself, trying to get a look at his back. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“It wasn’t my blood,” he said with a shrug, gently pushing me back.

I blanched. “Do you have any idea how little comfort that gives me? If it’s not yours, then where did it come from?”

“Work,” he replied monosyllabically. He tried to push past me, but I stepped into his way before he got to the door.

“Gallus, you’re scaring me. What happened? Was it a fight? Are you hurt? Are you okay? What’s—”

He held up a claw to stop me. “I’m fine! I just…” he sighed, “It’s a lot. I’ll talk about it, but there’s someone else who needs to know first.” He brushed past me and threw the door open. “Come on, I’ll tell you on the way.”

Gallus’s version of ‘telling me on the way’ consisted of more one- and two-word answers. He was preoccupied, his replies to my questions terse and lacking in detail. What I did get out of him was alarming, though. A ship had come in heavily damaged, and some of the crew were hurt. Gallus had helped with the offloading, and one of the wounded must have bled on him.

The longer we walked, the fewer questions I asked. A pit was growing in my stomach, and each additional piece of the puzzle Gallus offered only deepened it. He didn’t give me enough to assume the cause, but it brought the Storm King to mind.

A shiver ran down my spine, but I kept walking. After a few minutes and a few twists and turns on the winding streets of Mount Aris, we arrived at a fairly squat house on the very edge of the city, nestled against the mountain’s southern wing. The tree was unremarkable: a fat trunk that didn’t have many tall branches. One room of darkened shade panels sat nearly centered over the main trunk.

Gallus knocked at the front door and stepped back, waiting patiently. After a moment, the sounds of someone moving around on the other side of the door became audible. “I’m closed for the day,” said a muffled feminine voice from the other side of the door.

“Diamond, it’s Gallus,” he called, raising his voice to carry through the door. “I need to talk to you.”

The hippogriff inside the house shifted her tone quickly. “Oh! Come on in, the door's unlocked.”

Gallus turned the latch and pushed the door open, but as soon as it was open a tiny bit, an orange blur shot out from the crack, darting between his feet. “Moxie, no!” came the scolding shout from within, but it was too late.

The tiny tabby cat chanced a glance back over her shoulder at me as she tore up the path we’d come in on. Thinking on my hooves, I spread my wings and pushed off. “I’m on it!” I called over my shoulder.

Moxie was fast, but the housecat lacked the aerial advantage. Using my wings as a boost, I swooped down and scooped her up with my claws, latching onto the nape of her neck. She didn’t struggle as I turned and brought her back to the porch, where Gallus was watching me with raised eyebrows.

“Nice,” he said, pushing the door the rest of the way open and letting us inside. I held onto the cat until the door was fully closed, gently setting her down on the floor and letting her go. To my surprise, she didn’t immediately run off. Instead, she casually walked over a few steps and rolled over on the floor.

“Thanks,” said Diamond. She was sky blue, tall and graceful, with her light green mane feathers tied back into a loose ponytail and a pencil tucked behind her right ear. She watched Moxie for a moment, but when her eyes settled on me, a smidge of discomfort flashed across her face. “Gotta say, it’s not every day that royalty drops in and rounds up your cat.”

I could sense the unease in her voice, something that happened commonly here at home. “I’m just glad I was able to help.” I reached down to give Moxie a scratch between the ears. “She’s precious!”

Diamond smiled warmly, the unease vanishing. I’d gotten pretty good at defusing the whole royalty anxiety thing over the years. “One of these days she’s gonna find out just how nice she has it here when I lock the door behind her,” she replied, shooting Moxie another round of stink eye. The cat was completely unbothered, even going so far as purring softly as she licked a paw. “So, what’s up? Is Sassy doing okay?” she asked, turning her attention toward Gallus.

“She’s fine,” said Gallus. “It’s Ty. He’s back.”

It took me a moment to put the pieces together. I had no idea who Sassy was, but Ty was a familiar name. Oh, the roommate! I knew he was a sailor, but why was that so important that Gallus would make a special trip over here just to tell her? He must have made fast friends.

Diamond’s face lit up for a moment. “Already?” But then it soured, some realization dawning on her that replaced that excitement with fear. “Is something wrong?”

Gallus nodded. “It’s bad. His ship took a lot of damage. I only saw him for a second, and he looks like he’s doing okay, but he’s wounded.”

Immediately, Diamond was in motion, taking the pencil out from behind her ear and setting it down on a nearby table. “Where is he?” she asked, her voice wavering just a little bit.

“I think he’s at Navy headquarters. There were a lot of high-ranking officers swarming around him. Whatever happened, it looked serious.”

A pit of dread built in the pit of my stomach as more details came to light. I swallowed hard, reflexively trying to fill it with spit. The news was nothing to panic over yet, but something bad had happened. Hippogriffs had been hurt. Possibilities ran through my mind. Had they run up on the rocks like that one ship did a few months ago? Did something attack the ship? Had someone attacked it? I was a hatchling when it happened, but I knew the history of how the Storm King had taken over Mount Aris. It started with a few random attacks on Navy ships—nothing too crazy, but then one day the airships came, enough to block out the sun. They caught us off guard. We stood no chance.

The Day of the Dark Sky. We were forced to flee and hide beneath the waves on the barren seafloor. No more flying. No more crunchy food. No more interacting with the rest of the world. A whole nation cast into a life devoid of beauty and wonder, taken from us by a cruel tyrant.

My chest was twisting itself into a knot. No! Stop! The Storm King wasn’t coming back. He was dead. Dead-dead. There was surely a better explanation for what had happened than that. The thought frightened me, but I couldn’t give in to it. It would just live in the back of my mind, ignored and unloved.

Right now, what mattered was the present. What I could do to help in this moment. Coming back to the here and now, Diamond was on her way to the front door. “I’m going to find him,” she said, her jaw set in determination.

“We’ll go with you,” Gallus offered. I was thankful for him saying the words for me. Words were difficult all of a sudden.

The flight to sea level was fast and hard, even though it was a descent. Diamond led the way, flying so fast that we might as well have been in free fall. I kept my eyes on the ground, mostly to make sure my altitude didn’t get too low, but I was also searching for hippogriffs. The light was low, so I couldn’t see perfectly, but it looked mostly deserted below. Hippogriffs rarely used the path up Mount Aris. We opted for quicker and easier flight. Most of those left to the long climb were flightless tourists, and it was unsafe for them to do so in the dark.

And so I was a little surprised when I heard Gallus call something out, though the details of what he said were lost to the rushing wind in my ears. I saw him point at something below us, and my eyes settled on a little splotch of yellow and red, about a quarter of the way up the mountainside.

Finding Ty proved much easier than expected. We slowed down and dropped closer to the mountain, and soon the details resolved themselves. There he was, the same hippogriff I remembered meeting a few weeks ago when I went to take Gallus on his first shopping trip. It felt like such a long time ago.

Diamond landed first, skidding a little bit and nearly toppling over when she touched down. On such a steep slope, that looked super dangerous. I made sure to take extra care with my own landing, flapping hard to bleed off my speed from the dive. By the time I had sorted out my own landing, Diamond already had Ty wrapped up in a hug that used both forelegs and wings, blocking him from view almost entirely.

“It’s good to see you too,” Ty said, his words muffled, “but you’re squeezing my shoulder too tight.”

Immediately, Diamond unwrapped him and scooted back. Her eyes were full of tears, probably both bitter and sweet. She didn’t slow down for them though, turning her attention toward the medical wraps on his forelimb. “What happened? Why are you wearing a sling? What’s the bandage for?” She blinked. “Why the hell were you walking up the mountain by yourself in the dark with a bum leg?”

“That’s a lot of questions to answer at once,” Ty said. You and me both, sister. Now looking at him, I noticed his eyes were shimmering in the light too. “But before I do that, can you please catch me?”

I was a little confused by his response until his legs started shaking, and Diamond and Gallus both sprang into action to ease him to the ground as he collapsed.

“Thanks,” he said weakly, letting out a deep groan of pain.

“You idiot,” Diamond wavered, her voice choked by a sob.

“Guilty as charged,” Ty said with a chuckle. “I didn’t think climbing the mountain would be this hard. I was about to give up, actually.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we found you when we did,” I said.

“I’ll say,” Gallus agreed.

“Are you gonna be alright?” Diamond asked.

“For sure,” said Ty. “I just need a minute.”

“But how are we gonna get him to the top of the mountain?” I asked. We all looked around at each other for a moment, until Gallus spoke up.

“I think I have an idea.”

“Easy, easy!” shouted Ty, shifting in my grasp slightly. Gallus, Diamond, and I each had a leg in our talons—I had the foreleg that wasn’t bandaged, they both had the hind legs—carrying the big hippogriff like a sling. It was a delicate balancing act, the three of us carefully syncing up our wingbeats to keep him stable. Despite our efforts, we couldn’t help some of the jostling. “If you drop me, I’m going to be very upset until I hit the ground.”

The joke was almost shockingly morbid, but I couldn’t help smiling. He was trying to lighten the mood, and though it wasn’t having much effect with the other two, I appreciated it. Everything had been so serious since Gallus arrived, so the reprieve was welcome in my book.

We’d gained all the altitude we needed, sailing high above the winding path up the side of Mount Aris, nearly level with the city at its peak. The path was difficult to make out in the darkness, but I could tell it was a long way down. Just for good measure, I tightened my grip on his foreleg. Our awkward little airlift was going pretty well, all things considered!

“Slow and steady,” Diamond reminded us. We were coming in for a landing in a small market that Gallus had pointed us toward, easing toward the ground. I was steering our little airlift, and I adjusted my wingbeats to angle toward the clearing.

Thankfully, the market was mostly deserted, giving us ample room to make our landing. As gingerly as we could, we set him on the cobblestone street. Even though we tried our best, it was very difficult to come down gently enough when the first point of contact was a griff’s folded wings.

“Ow.” Ty grunted involuntarily as his back came down on the stone, his face twisting up in pain.

“Sorry, sorry!” I apologized immediately, wincing. “Are you okay?”

He grunted, but gave a nod. We released his limbs and allowed him to stand up, rolling over and carefully rising to his feet without making use of the injured shoulder. “What would I do without you guys?”

“Climb a mountain on three legs, apparently,” Gallus quipped, which got a chuckle out of Ty.

“Can you make it the rest of the way to the apartment?” asked Diamond.

Ty took an experimental step, hopping forward on his good front leg. “It’d be a lot faster if I had some help,” he said with a grimace, shaking his head.

Diamond positioned herself along his side, allowing him to throw his good arm over her shoulders. With Ty’s front supported, we started along the path, with Gallus and me leading the way. The apartment wasn’t far from the market square we landed in, but it took us nearly five minutes to walk the distance that normally would have taken two.

“Let’s get you upstairs,” said Diamond as the two hobbled through the door.

Ty shook his head. “I’d stain the sheets. Shower first.” I hadn’t wanted to say anything, but he did smell like a stray dog that had been dipped in sardine juice.

Diamond lifted the bathroom hatch and frowned. “That’s going to be a problem.”

“Not for a professional.” Ty reared up on his hind legs and stood back on his own three good legs. “Give me a sec, I’ll get down there just fine.”

“And you’re gonna shower with that?” Diamond pointed to the bandage on his shoulder, which was showing a bit of blood through it.

Ty looked down at his shoulder and groaned. “Ack, probably ripped a stitch when we landed.”

“Then you’re taking a bath,” Diamond said. “Let’s get you down there. I’ll help you wash up.”

Ty eyed her for a moment, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I can’t argue with that.”

I looked over at Gallus, who had been standing on the sidelines just as idly as I had for the last few minutes. He caught my glance and seemed to get the implication, which he met with a shrug. “Are you two going to need anything?” he asked.

“How much food do we have?” asked Ty.

Gallus shook his head. “Not much. I was planning on hitting the market today before you showed up, actually.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Ty said. “I haven’t had a decent meal in a couple of days. We lost a bunch of our food rations when the lower decks flooded.”

“I’ll go get some food, then,” Gallus offered, stepping toward the door. “Are there any places still open?”

“There’s one shop that stays open later in that market square we just landed in. Talon Stop. I go there all the time.”

Gallus nodded. “Any requests?”

“Cinnamon Blasted Oat Munch if you can find it. Anything else, just surprise me.”

“You got it,” Gallus said, but he frowned. “I really hate to ask this, but I’m broke until Thursday. Do you have any bits I can borrow?”

Ty chuckled. “Sure. There’s a little box stashed under my bed, should be enough to cover it there.”

“If you need any more, I can fly home and get some money real quick,” I offered.

“I should have enough to cover it. Thanks though,” said Ty with a smile.

Gallus disappeared up the hall on the right side of the room, which was followed by just enough of a lull in the day’s events for my brain to catch up. Gallus had promised me details, but his follow-through on that was lukewarm at best. He gave bits and pieces but never the full picture. Ty’s ship had been damaged—by what or whom, I had no idea. I could always just fly past the Navy’s docks and get a look for myself, but I was kind of afraid to know.

I glanced at the hallway Gallus had gone down. Was this really a good time for me to be airing the romantic laundry? After all that had happened today?

The better question was: if not now, then when? Was there ever a convenient time for groundbreaking revelations? Gallus, despite appearances, was still falling head over heels for me. Probably. He needed closure, and he needed it bad.

Or I was totally off base and about to make a fool of myself!

That was a Gallus thought. I had to be right, but even if I was wrong, something had to give. I wanted the Gallus who wasn’t afraid of me back.

A quick trip to the market with him was plenty of time and privacy to get everything out in the open and figure out the problem. I would make my move there.

Gallus returned with a small, jingly pouch of coins a few moments later. Ty was in the process of lowering himself down the hatch, with Diamond hovering over him in case anything went wrong, namely him slipping and falling into the bathroom pit.

“I’ll be back real quick. Anything else you need?”

“A toothbrush!” Ty called back. “My old one got blown up.”

Everyone froze and looked at him, unsure of whether or not to laugh at how ridiculous it sounded. The silence hung on for a few seconds before Gallus started back on his way. “You got it.”

“I’ll come with you,” I said, following after him and noticing the little flash of surprise in his eyes. He’d been trying to forget I was there. Poor thing.

“Cool,” he said, playing it off though his heart was definitely doing somersaults in his chest. We walked out just as Ty’s head ducked below the floor level. What little remained of the day’s light during our airlift was now gone, only a very faint illumination of moonlight making its way through the trees.

At first, we walked in silence. Gallus was never the chattiest griffon in the world, but today he was totally clammed up, only speaking when absolutely necessary. I understood why. The trauma of whatever he’d seen at the docks that day coupled with anxiety around talking to me would do that to a griff.

My confidence wavered. Was it really a good idea to force a resolution tonight? Gallus’s mind was clearly elsewhere. If I went through with my plan, I’d just be injecting more events into his already crazy day. Was that fair to him?

I glanced back over my shoulder at him. He was looking at a spot on the ground about three meters ahead of him as he walked; completely zoned out, the faintest hint of a scowl on his beak in place of his usual calm look of self-assurance.

I’m part of the reason he’s like that right now, I reminded myself. This wasn’t just about making a move on him. First and foremost, my goal was to make him comfortable around me again. The sooner that was done, the better. Whatever we decided to do with the revelation was just icing on the cake!

With my resolve regained, it was time to get the ball rolling. “Nice night, huh?” I said, leading in with innocuous small talk.

“Yeah,” he replied, the word clipped.

“I always love the way it smells after it rains! Everything feels so fresh and new.” I splashed through a conveniently placed puddle, adding emphasis to the statement. It was a pretty night, after all. The moon was rising into place, still not visible yet over the tall stone wings that blocked our view of the eastern horizon, but its glow was starting to become noticeable over the last remnants of twilight.

Gallus stayed silent. Small talk wouldn’t come easy.

We rounded a corner and stepped out into the market we’d landed in a few minutes prior. The open air stands were shuttered, but on the far side of the square, the faint fluorescent glow of magilights beckoned us. Talon Stop: the one store that stayed open past sundown, built into a permanent structure with shade panels on the outside. Through the window, a small array of fresh fruit and veggies sat waiting for us, with several rows of shelves further back that held all sorts of random things a hippogriff could need late at night.

The store was mostly empty, just a couple of other patrons milling about on their business. Perfect! No worrying about making a scene. Gallus wasted no time, making a beeline for the aisles. He wanted to be done as soon as possible.

Had I not known the truth, I would have been upset by how he was brushing me off.

I followed him up the first aisle, where he was thoughtfully considering the selection of cereal boxes. “So,” I began, keeping my voice low. “How are you holding up?”

He side-eyed me, but didn’t interrupt his search for Ty’s cinnamon oats. “I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t seem that way,” I said, idly scanning over the boxes with him. “You act like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“Kinda did.” He found the box he was looking for and picked it from the shelf, immediately turning and making his way to the end of the aisle. I had to speed walk to keep up with him.

“Gotta say, I’ve never seen you so upset that you couldn’t talk to me.”

It had come out the teensiest bit accusatory, but it got results. His ears perked up and he chanced another glance in my direction. “I just don’t feel like talking right now.”

“You mean you don’t feel like talking to me, right?” A tinge of frustration colored my tone, maybe a little more than I should have let on. This was supposed to be about de-escalating, right? If I wasn’t careful, we’d just have another ring toss booth incident here. I didn’t need to add ‘Talon Stop Incident’ to my list of regrets for the summer.

That stopped him dead in his tracks. “What?”

“I know you’ve been avoiding me for the last couple of weeks, Gallus,” I said. “Even right now. You’ve hardly said a word to me all evening.”

His eyes widened a bit, but he didn’t have a rebuttal. Instead, he kept on walking.

I continued on. “I get it. Like, after what happened at the Hootenanny? Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you. You don’t have to keep sulking over it.”

“I’m not sulking,” he said. “I just had a really crazy day and I don’t feel like talking about it.”

He was sticking to his denial, still trying to avoid the subject entirely. I needed to nudge him in the right direction. “I’m not talking about what happened today. Take however long you need to process whatever happened down there, that’s fine, but I’m talking about our argument on Friday. We didn’t even get past square one then.”

“This isn’t the best time, Silverstream.”

I scoffed. “When will it ever be the best time?”

“There isn’t much to discuss,” he countered, clearly trying another angle. “Nothing’s changed in the last two days. I still haven’t made up my mind.”

Whether or not he was being dense on purpose, it was still just the tiniest bit frustrating that he wasn’t taking the cues. “Well, let’s talk about it anyway. Maybe it’ll help you decide.” We made our way up the next aisle, Gallus taking no time to find the toiletries. He walked faster with every question. “Why are you thinking of leaving Mount Aris? Really. I want to know.”

“I already told you, there’s a bunch of reasons.”

“What are they?” I demanded. “Lay it all out for me. Help me understand.”

He didn’t slow down, grabbing a few more random bits of food on his way to the clerk. He’d bought himself a few moments’ reprieve, but we’d be right back to it as soon as he was done paying. It also gave me a second to regroup my thoughts.

It was almost the moment of truth. Despite how entrenched he was in delaying the inevitable, I had the nuclear option: calling him out directly. Of course, coaxing a confession out of him naturally was best. I had a few more minutes to prod him, but before we got back to that apartment, it was happening one way or another.

The cash register’s bell tolled, and then Gallus was off to the races once again, breezing toward the exit with renewed vigor. I fell in with him as he made it to the front door, taking note that he kept his eyes forward. A griffon on a mission.

“You hate your job. What else?” I asked, not missing a beat.

“I don’t fit in here,” he deadpanned. “That’s a big one.”

“Okay. What else?” We exited the market square, getting back on the path to the house. Clock was ticking.

Gallus stopped for a moment and glared at me, lagging behind. “Do I need another reason? What’s your deal tonight?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for days!”

He stepped around me, continuing on his way. “I’m really busy all the time. Not my fault.”

“Busy? With what?” I asked. “What do you even do when you get home every day? Besides pretending I don’t exist, I mean.”

“I have a life, Silverstream,” he said flatly, rolling his eyes.

Time was running out. I had to get the conversation back on track. “Ah, so you do have reasons to stay! What’s your problem, then? It must be huge if you’re just going to run away from it.”

We turned onto his street. The apartment was just three trees away.

“I never said I was running away. I’m just… thinking about things,” he corrected, returning to his lukewarm maybes. “And honestly, I don’t like being pressured about it. Look, the way I see it, I don’t have a whole lot keeping me here anymore.” Gallus shook his head and sighed.

I’d pushed it too far, and now he was trying to shut me down. Going into this conversation, I expected resistance. Gallus wasn’t the easiest nut to crack, but he was more entrenched than I ever could have expected. No amount of coaxing was going to work. We were in front of the apartment now. No time left.

You dumb griffon, you left me no choice.

Before he could turn to go up the steps, I pushed off with my wings and jumped in front of him, blocking his path. “What about me?”

“You?”

“Yes! Me!” I flared my wings at him. “I’m the whole reason you’ve been acting weird lately, aren’t I?”

“Silverstream, that’s—”

“You’ve never been so shifty around me, Gallus! It’s not like you.” I stepped closer, narrowing my eyes. “I know something’s up, and you can’t just hide it anymore.” Last chance to come clean yourself, you big stupid idiot.

His eyes were wide and his pupils pinpricks, breaths coming in short, nervous gasps. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he croaked.

“Oh, come on!” I couldn’t help my frustration boiling over. “Nothing’s the matter? You’re just gonna ignore me for the rest of your life?”

“Silverstream—”

“I’m so sick of this!” I stamped my claws on the ground, a few tears worming their way into the corners of my eyes. “This is so stupid! I want an explanation. Right now. If I’m causing problems for you, just tell me!”

His beak opened, ready to spew more flak at me like an octopus squirting ink at a predator, but then something changed. For the first time that night, he looked deep into my eyes. A flash of something crossed his face, a little grimace and a pause ever so slightly too long. Was that guilt? He closed his mouth before he averted his eyes again. “Look, it’s not you... It’s me.”

I scoffed. “Where did you pull that line from? This isn’t some stupid book. I’m right here in front of you.”

His ears flattened. “What? I didn’t—” he began to protest, but he stopped himself, taking a breath. “Whatever. It’s the truth. I’m the one with the problem. You’ve been nothing but good to me this whole time, and I’ve been awful to you in return.”

It was a start. Time to press him harder. “Why?”

“I don’t even know,” he said. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

“About?”

He hesitated, struggling to get the words out. “Life,” he said, his voice unsteady. He sat down on the dirt path. “I was homeless just a couple of years ago. Completely alone. No griff in Griffonstone cared what happened to me. I could have starved, frozen to death, whatever, and nobody would have batted an eye. Except maybe Grandpa Gruff, but only because he’d have to find a new kid to pay chump change for whatever stupid jobs he came up with.

“Now look at me. I’ve lived in two different countries in two years. I’m in school, I’ve got friends and a job, and I don’t have to steal food to survive anymore.” Gallus sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I don’t deserve any of it.”

“That’s not true,” I said, leaning forward and flaring my wings.

“What did I do to deserve any of this, then? One day, out of the blue, Grandpa Gruff just whisked me away to Equestria to become an ambassador for the Griffon Empire. He came and found me that day while I was rooting through a pile of trash, if you can believe that.” He laughed dryly. “Honestly, it’s really appropriate considering the job I have now.

“Everything that brought me here was completely outside of my control,” he continued. “Some new diplomacy program made by griffons hundreds of miles away from Griffonstone randomly selected me. I found you and our friends by random chance at school. It was pure luck that you were able to find a place for me here. Luck on top of luck on top of luck. I’ve just been thinking, when is it going to run out? I’ve been hitting jackpots for a while now, but I know it can’t last forever. It’s going to catch up to me eventually.”

“So that’s why you’re leaving? Just to get ahead of the curve?”

Gallus sighed. “Yeah. I feel... helpless. It’s like I’m just drifting along in the wind until it decides to smash me headfirst into the ground again. At least if I go back to Griffonstone, I’d make that decision for myself.”

I eyed him warily. “That’s crazy, Gallus.”

“I know, but I can’t help thinking it.”

“So what, have you been afraid of this the whole time you’ve known me?”

He nodded. “Ever since the first day I stepped foot outside Griffonstone.”

“How come you never told me?”

“Showing weakness around griffons is a fast way to get yourself scammed or worse,” he said casually, like it wasn’t one of the bleakest statements I’d ever heard.

“But I’m not some random griffon!” I countered. “I’m your friend.”

“Spend as many years in Griffonstone as I did, you’d have a hard time letting your guard down too.”

I scooted closer to him, but he shied away. “Gallus, don’t you feel like you can trust me?”

“I just told you all that, didn’t I?”

“And I’m glad you did,” I said, flashing him an earnest smile. While he didn’t quite smile back, at least he wasn’t scowling anymore. I thought I noticed a little extra sheen in his eyes. “You know, I’ve been there before too.”

Gallus cocked an eyebrow. “Griffonstone?”

“No,” I said with a giggle, though I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be funny or just dense. “I mean the helplessness. You know, feeling like a leaf on the wind, constantly having your guard up?”

He turned his head to look at me owlishly. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but… how? You’re literally part of the royal family. No way you had to live on the streets before.”

“Not exactly, but being forced into hiding for your entire childhood can do that too.”

“Oh, right, duh. Storm King invasion.” He slapped his forehead.

I nodded. “Yeah, that. I never really had much say over my own life either. It was always ‘Never go within sight of the shore, Silverstream!’ ‘Never swim less than ten meters below the surface, Silverstream!’ ‘You and everyone you love will die if you’re seen, Silverstream!’ Since I could remember being alive, there were so many rules about how to live my life. I was trapped.”

The memory sent a stab of pain through me. I hugged my arms to my chest and sighed. “When I was older, I broke the rules every now and again. Me and my cousin Skystar used to sneak out and swim up one of the water supply ducts to hang out at Auntie Novo’s old castle. We knew we’d be dead if we got caught up there, either from the Storm King’s troops or from our parents if they found out.”

I didn’t like to reminisce about my years in hiding, but that memory was one of the few that held no bitterness. I smiled softly. “Even though it was dangerous, those trips to the old castle were one of the few times I felt what it was like to be free. It was my decision to go up there, and mine alone. In that fountain, I was the one in charge.”

I snuck a glance over at Gallus. Gone was the hard edge his stare had carried all night, in its place a familiar, compassionate gaze, even with the barest hints of a smile on his beak. I couldn’t help the corners of my own mouth turning up. This was the Gallus I knew and loved.

Loved. Wow. That word suddenly felt a lot more weighty. I pressed on before it could throw off my mojo. “I know what it’s like to want to feel like you’re in charge of your life,” I said. “I’ve been there, and I know how frustrating it is to just be at the mercy of whatever life throws at you.

“But you’re thinking about it all wrong, Gallus. You’re not here because anyone forced you to be. I got you a chance to come here because I care about you. I want you to have a good summer, and I want to be a part of it. Is that so bad?”

Gallus frowned. “I guess not.”

“I can’t stop you from making your own decisions. If you really do want to leave, then I can accept that.” I sighed. “But if there’s any doubt in your mind, please think about staying. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay here. I want you to be here because you want to be here.” I lightly brushed my shoulder against him. “Not just because I want you to.”

“I still don’t know,” he said quietly.

“Whatever you decide to do, I can accept it. At the end of the day, I still care about you. An awful lot.”

Gallus didn’t look at me, his gaze averted off to some faraway hollow in the dark. He didn’t notice me as I scooted closer and carefully wrapped a wing around his shoulders. As soon as I made contact, he flinched, though he didn’t pull away.

I smiled. I’ve got you now, lover boy.

“So Gallus,” I began. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s more of an observation, really. But I have to say, something doesn’t quite add up.”

He turned toward me again.

“If all this is about you feeling like the world has it out for you, that still doesn’t explain why you’ve been so nervous around me.”

“What?” he asked, keeping his voice level despite the fact that his pupils had shrunk.

“It doesn’t make any sense to me,” I said, keeping my tone just the slightest bit flippant. “Like just now, I put my wing over you and you tensed up. It reminds me a lot of that time we went to the Harmonizing Heights and you were acting all jumpy and nervous every time I got near you. That’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”

“Uhh…” he croaked.

“I was just wondering what the deal was with all that,” I said, putting on my best naive smile.

His beak quivered as he tried to think of something to say, but a few moments passed in silence with us just staring at each other. He was frozen in fear, eyes like saucers garnished with little olives for irises.

The blank stare continued for an awkward length of time, and soon I grew tired of it. I wasn’t going to get an answer out of him at this rate, and I’d given him enough leeway already. Here goes nothing.

I leaned forward and planted a quick peck on his cheek.

It was like he’d been struck by lightning, every feather on his body snapping to attention as he leapt out from under my wing so fast it nearly yanked all of my primaries out. Griffon reflexes, I thought.

“What was that?!” he shrieked in a hushed voice, still mindful enough of his surroundings to keep it down.

“A kiss,” I said, matter-of-factly.

“But why?” He was in his maximum puffball state now, and he seemed to notice at the same moment I did, making a feeble effort to smooth out his feathers.

“Because it’s obvious, Gallus! You’ve been trying to hide your crush on me, haven’t you?” A butterfly with bladed wingtips took flight in my stomach. If my hunch was wrong, this was about to get really uncomfortable. Bracing for a rejection, I watched him with bated breath, but after a few seconds, he couldn’t even stammer out a single word. I let that breath out in relief. I was right!

“I...wh...you…”

“Gallus, calm down. You’re gonna pass out if you keep hyperventilating.”

“You knew?” he managed to squeeze out.

“You don’t have as good of a poker face as you think you do,” I giggled. “It was kind of hard to miss.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Sit down then,” I reassured him.

Taking my advice, he dropped his rump hard in the dirt a couple of meters away from me. “You knew,” he repeated, quieter this time. I scooted over to his side again, just as he started laughing. It was a dry cackle, one that could have only been born out of irony or desperation; in this case probably both. “You knew!”

“Uh-huh,” I agreed, not quite sure if I should join him in his mirth.

“So all that worrying was for nothing.” The laughter died in his throat just as quickly as it had started. “I feel like such an idiot right now.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re a cute idiot,” I said, pushing myself up against his side. He felt warm, though his feathers still smelled a bit musty from his long day’s work.

“That sounds so weird to hear out loud,” he said, letting the words soak in. “Did I just hallucinate that or something?”

I chuckled. “Nope, it’s real.” For effect, I pinched him on his ribcage.

“But…” He paused for a moment. “Why? Like, literally why? I’ve been a huge jerk to you ever since I got here, and now you’re just…”

“You should learn to take yes for an answer, Gallus,” I said. “After I realized what was up with you a few days ago, I did a little thinking. You’re actually charming when you let yourself be. You’re funny, you’re a good person, and most importantly, it’s so cute when I surprise you and your feathers get all puffy. Like right now.”

“Okay, I get it,” he said, smoothing his plumage down. Even in the dark, I could tell he was blushing fiercely under the blue of his cheek feathers.

“I just want to know why you were trying so hard to hide it from me.”

Gallus looked at the ground pensively, sighing. “Because I was scared I was going to mess up what we have. Like, what if you said no? What if it drove a wedge between us? I figured it was better to not address it.”

It all made sense: the awkwardness, the hiding. Every single weird moment in the last few weeks stemmed from that one notion.

“I get where you’re coming from,” I said, wrapping an arm around him. “But you have to have a little more faith in me than that. Even if I said no, I’d still care about you a lot. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, Gallus. There’s no way I’d throw that away just because you felt that way about me.”

“But you didn’t say no,” he said. “Well, I didn’t even get to ask you out, but still.”

“Yep!” I pulled him close, nuzzling into his cheek. “Did you want to ask, you know, to make it formal?”

“Oh… uh, sure. Why not?” He cleared his throat a bit melodramatically. Even with the result all but guaranteed, he was still a bumbling mess. “Silverstream, do you... want to go out with me?”

“I dunno, let me think about it,” I said, watching him squirm at the unexpected response. I didn’t leave it to marinate long, though. “Of course I do, you big dope!”

With that line, a weight lifted from my shoulders. The problems that had plagued the first few weeks of the summer were solved! I hugged him even tighter, reaching around and wrapping him up with both arms. Even though they didn’t smell too good, the feathers below his jawline were very soft and inviting as they brushed against my beak.

“Cool,” Gallus sighed, and then we let the conversation drift off into silence, enjoying the quiet and chilly air together. A new couple’s first moments. Even though it happened super unconventionally, I couldn’t be happier with the end results.

“So, uh…” he said. “Now what?”

I snorted. “Now what?”

“Yeah. I don’t really know what to do next.”

“Well, we just kinda do whatever,” I said with a shrug, having not made many plans past this moment. “You know, cute boyfriend and girlfriend stuff. Hang out, cuddle, go shopping, be obnoxious about how much we love each other in public.” The thought of all the fun dates we could have just with those basic options made my heart flutter. And that was just the tip of the iceberg! Who knew what other fun ideas I could come up with, given a little time? I had to take him down to Seaquestria soon. We could go swim through the coral reefs, find a big school of herring and scatter them off, and then come back up to the surface and fall asleep on the beach at the end of the day. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. Did griffons purr in their sleep?

The excitement was building fast, but I had to rein it in. Gushing like I wanted to right now would just scare him. I had to think back to where we were in the conversation before my thoughts took over. “Have you never dated anyone before?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly the most eligible bachelor in Griffonstone when I was eating trash to survive.”

“Touché,” I said with a laugh. “Well, you don’t have to eat any more garbage now.”

“Looks like all I had to do was stop.” He joined me with a chuckle of his own. “You practically fell right into my arms.”

“Oh, you know me! I just love boys who don’t dumpster dive.”

“Your standards could use some improving, if that’s all it takes,” he said. We laughed again, and for a moment, all was right with the world. Sitting in the mud, sharing the mirth with my favorite griffon. I held him closer, enjoying the warmth of his feathers contrasted against the cool night. I didn’t want it to end, but before long, Gallus was standing up to leave my grasp. “I should probably get those groceries inside before the mud soaks through the bag.”

I frowned, but the moment had passed. At least there would be more. “I should get home, too. My dad’s probably wondering where I am, especially since he’s probably heard the news by now.”

“Yeah,” Gallus agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, right?”

“For sure!” I chirped with a smile. I stepped forward and squeezed him in a tight hug, and instead of pushing me away like he usually did, he hugged me back. It was such a small thing, but it made me melt.

Like all good things in life, the hug couldn’t last forever. We separated, took one last look into each other’s eyes, and then I spread my wings and pushed off for home. “Goodnight, Silverstream,” he called after me.

“Goodnight!”

I burst through the tree canopy with a big smile on my face, a swelling of warmth in my chest. Suddenly, I was brimming with painting ideas!

Chapter 14: What Happened to You?

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“A toothbrush! My old one got blown up.”

I looked down at Ty with wide eyes, though I don’t think it should have surprised me so much. After all, he just showed up with a pretty serious wound on his shoulder, but he said it so casually—like it was just another mundane part of his voyage and not the result of what I could only assume was a terrifying brush with death.

The griffon and other hippogriff in the room seemed as bewildered as I was. “You got it,” said Gallus after a moment of uneasy silence, turning toward the door.

“I’ll go with you!” Silverstream chirped, following along beside him.

The door closed, and then it was just me and Ty. I couldn’t help cracking a little smile as they left. “Poor thing,” I said quietly with a dry laugh.

“What was that, Di?” Ty tilted his head.

“Not you.” I nodded toward the door.

“Oh. So I’m not crazy. There was some tension there.”

“Yup. Griffon’s got it bad. Told me so himself.”

That perked Ty’s ears. “You talked to him?”

“Yeah. He needed help with Sassy a few nights ago and it came up.”

“What did you tell him?”

It should have been a simple answer, but it gave me pause. This conversation about me giving dating advice would make a natural ramp into what we had talked about before he set sail. The question I was still torn over and hadn’t expected to need an answer for at minimum a few more weeks, maybe months. But here he was, staring me in the face, no doubt hoping I’d have made up my mind.

I wasn’t ready for that conversation so soon—if ever.

“I dunno, just some generic ‘go get her, champ’ pep talk,” I said dismissively. “You better hurry up and get down that ladder. Your smell could peel the paint off the walls.”

Ty chuckled and started downward, taking great care not to slip on the ladder. He planted both hind legs on a rung, and then quickly dropped his good hand to the next one. It required enough concentration from him that it put a halt on our conversation, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief.

In short order, Ty was safely in the pit, and I hopped down into it behind him, not bothering to close the hatch. He carefully climbed into the tub and sat down, while I tended to the taps and ran the water.

The silence persisted for a little while longer, the tub filling slowly around the filthy hippogriff sitting in it. Soot and grime started leaching out of the fur on his hind legs, tinting the water ever so slightly gray. We both seemed content with the quiet, though it looked like Ty was more entranced than thankful for it. He just sat there, watching the water pour from the tap with undivided attention. Like I wasn’t even there.

What happened to you, Ty? I wanted to ask, but I hesitated. I’d bombarded him with questions when we found him climbing the mountain; now that I’d had a little time to think, I was a little bit afraid of what the answers would be. “Which one of these soaps is yours again?” I asked.

“Huh?” He blinked, refocusing on me. Whether or not he registered what I said, he followed my eyes and picked up what I was putting down. “The purple one, Maneifier.”

I grabbed the bottle and shook it, about ready to dump a blob in my palm and go to work, but I stopped when I took a moment to actually look at his hair. It was a disaster. The usually flowing, swept-back mane had lost all of its character, weighed down by days of grit and grime. Strands stuck out in odd directions and clung to his neck like dried seaweed washed up on a rocky beach.

I set the shampoo aside and instead went to work on the rat’s nest, pulling out strands of hair between my claws. Almost immediately, I found a knot that refused to come quietly. “Ow!” he yelped. “Di, can you do that without ripping my mane out?”

“Only if you hold still,” I replied, taking another strand of matted, salt-caked hair and running it through my talons, teasing out more than a few tangles. Ty winced as it tugged on his scalp a little more.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if my mane was wet?”

“Yes,” I said, and he immediately started craning his neck to dunk it under the water. I had to put a talon on his forehead to stop him. “But it would absolutely ruin your hair.”

He glanced up at me. “How?”

“Wet hair breaks easier than dry. If I tried to untangle all that with it wet, it’d snap and fray like an old rope. You’d have split ends like crazy.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I just want to get clean.” He promptly dunked his head into the tub. I rolled my eyes while he swirled his mane around and then whipped his head back, splattering some water on the wall behind him.

I snorted. “If you were trying to be graceful there, it didn’t work.”

Instead of saying anything back, he lifted a wing, his mouth curling in a sly grin.

“Don’t you dare.” I shied away from it, but he slowly kept coming closer and closer. The cramped bathroom had few places I could escape to, and his wingspan could reach most of it. Cornered, with little recourse, I did the only thing I knew to do. “Stop it. Ty, stop! Do you not want me to help you—TY!”

A cold, wet feather poked into my ear, and I squealed.

“Graceful, huh?” he said smugly.

I slapped his wing aside with mine and pushed it back toward him, careful not to push too hard and risk stressing his already-seeping wound. “You’re being awfully bold for a griff in slapping distance,” I retorted, though the giggling didn’t help add any credibility to the threat.

“Fortune favors the bold.” He puffed his chest out for effect and winced, drawing my attention to the bandage wrapped around his shoulder.

The humor might as well have run down the drain with the bathwater. “Let's get that thing off of you.” I scooted back over to the side of the tub and started my work, unwinding the long strip of bloodied cloth. It took a little bit of work since he couldn’t raise his arm—the bandage was tightly wedged into his armpit—and the blood that had dried stuck it to the stitches.

“Oh, Poseidon,” I whispered as the bandage pulled away, revealing a long, gnarly line of stitches running across most of the length of his shoulder. A bit of fresh blood seeped from the middle where the sutures had been strained.

“How bad is it?” he asked, keeping his eyes averted.

“It’s…” The words failed me. Nothing adequately described how I felt about seeing him like this, so I settled on just describing what I saw. “It looks like the stitches held. It’s bleeding a little bit, though.”

“That’s good, I guess,” he said, punctuating his statement with a grunt as I took a washcloth and gently dabbed it around the lower edge of the wound, cleaning a bit of the blood from his fur. I managed to get a couple of wipes in before he stopped me with a groan of pain. “Can we just leave that part alone for now?”

“You could get an infection.”

“It’s been filthy for days, not like one more will leave me that much worse off.” His voice was taut with pain.

I looked back and forth between the wound and the tears welling in his eyes for a moment, and against my better judgment, the eyes won out. “Alright,” I said, dropping the rag, where the blood joined the dirt and grime in turning the water a murky brown. The first item on the agenda was shampoo, and I poured a glob of it directly onto his head from the bottle.

Silence took over again as I worked his mane into a lather. I’d grown used to the stale stench emanating from the tub, but the soap’s fragrance brought a welcome reprieve. His mane started to take on more of its typical shape, softening from matted bristles to flowing—if wet—locks as the salt and grease washed free.

After a minute or two, the weight of curiosity started to pull at my mind, but it was restrained by a tightening knot in my stomach. Gallus had mentioned that Eidothea was badly damaged, but I had no idea beyond that what actually happened out there. It made my gut turn over in a way I hadn’t felt since before the Liberation. A feeling I never wanted to relive, but here it was all over again. I needed to know, but I was terrified to ask. And besides, asking him point-blank like that was...

He’s been through so much. I can’t just ask him, can I?

Ty had zoned out again. I stopped scrubbing and watched him for a moment, and he didn’t seem to notice. Even when I fully pulled my hands out of his mane and rinsed the lather from them, he just kept staring straight ahead, hardly blinking.

“Ty?”

“Hm?” He blinked hard and turned his head slightly to look at me.

“You can rinse off now.”

“Sure,” he said, carefully leaning forward and dunking his head into the water. His mane billowed out when submerged, flooding the bath with another wave of filth and suds. I watched him closely, counting down the seconds before I’d have to reach in and pull him up if he started zoning out again while under the water.

Thankfully, he didn’t stay down long, lifting his head out of the water and letting a cascade of water dribble down his back. “That’s so much better.”

“I’ll say.” I pointed down at the pool of his filth filling the tub. “Let’s freshen that up.”

Ty nodded and pulled the drain plug with his good arm, and the soiled water began to lower, leaving behind a ring of grime. While the fresh bath ran, I went to the cabinet under the sink and dug out a loofah to scrub his body with, and when I returned, he was back to his trance—eyes locked on the spout, seemingly hypnotized by the stream of water pouring in.

I had been turned away for all of five seconds, and that was all it took for him to just… drift off. This time, fear swelled deep in my chest. Something was wrong.

“Ty?”

No response.

“Ty?”

I waved my talons in front of his beak, and that got him to blink. He turned to me with empty, unfocused eyes. “What’s up?”

“Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds, his eyes darting back and forth like they were searching for something in the room to reply with, only to come up empty. “I’m just… really tired,” he finally said. “Really, really tired.”

“Are you sure? You don’t seem like you’re all here.”

“Yeah,” he said, eyes downcast. “It’s been a week.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, getting back to gently washing the fur on the nape of his neck.

“Not really.”

More dirt came out of his coat, but his color was returning to normal. “Can you at least tell me what happened to your shoulder? It looks really rough.”

“I got shot.”

I froze. The silence following that revelation carried the weight of the entire ocean he’d just sailed across, and a shiver ran down my spine. “What?”

“Shot,” he repeated.

“With a gun?”

“Cannon, actually. There’s still a piece of lead inside my shoulder. I have to go back to the infirmary tomorrow to get it taken out.”

My head was in a tailspin. “What in Poseidon’s ocean were you doing to get shot?”

“We were checking out a fire and got ambushed. Pirates.” His words were clipped, like he wanted to be done saying them as quickly as possible. “They tried to sink us, but we got away.”

“Ambushed?!”

“Yeah.”

My hands trembled, and I took a shaky breath. It was so much to process all at once. What am I supposed to feel right now? Shock? Anger? Fear?

“Di,” he said.

I was the unresponsive one this time, only stopping when he lifted a wing and gently brought it to my chin, turning my attention back toward his face.

“Di, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” I blurted. “You almost died! How could that ever be okay?”

“I didn’t almost die. The ball isn’t crazy deep. It’ll come out fine.”

“And what if it hit you about six inches higher?” I pointed to his neck.

The words seemed to have an effect, a little flash of unease crossed his face, but his calm smile quickly replaced it. “It didn’t, though. I’m here, that’s all that matters.”

“I don’t know how you can be so chill about this. You got shot. Someone attacked you. Aren’t you upset?”

“You aren’t the first one to ask me that,” he said quietly. “Yes. I’m upset. It was terrifying, but I’m just trying to put it behind me. Dwelling on it doesn’t help anyone.”

I wanted to be angry. At him, at whoever his attackers were, at the Navy for sending him out there in the first place; but something about it felt… wrong. Like I was intruding somewhere that I shouldn’t. Forcing him to talk about it so soon after was just making things worse.

Guilt set in, and I decided to let it be. “I’m sure you went through a lot out there. I won’t push you on it, but if you need to talk about it at all, I’ll be there to listen.”

“Thanks,” he said, though there wasn’t much gratitude behind it, given that he didn’t even look at me. I started working on scrubbing him down again, working over the area between his wings. They were in bad need of a preening, though I didn’t figure that was happening tonight with how tired he was. It wasn’t like he was going to do any flying anytime soon.

“So,” he began, “remember what I asked you before I left?”

My stomach twisted. I knew what was coming. “Yeah.”

“Have you… you know, thought about it at all?”

“I have.”

He turned his head toward me slightly, watching out of the corner of his eye. “And?”

I took a breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know, Ty. I thought you’d be gone longer than this. I thought there’d be more time to think things over.”

“Ah, I understand.” He turned his eyes forward again. “Just forget I brought it up.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m not saying no—”

“But you’re not saying yes, either,” he finished for me.

My ears flattened. I wasn’t trying to reject him, but he was practically doing it for me. “I just need more time. It’s a big jump.”

He watched the faucet for a moment before turning off the water, and then he sighed deeply. “That’s fine,” he said.

“Ty, don’t—”

“No, seriously.” He held up a claw to stop me. “Not being passive-aggressive at all, it’s totally okay. I get it.”

I eyed him warily. “Are you sure you’re fine with waiting a bit longer?”

“Yeah,” he said with seeming earnestness. “We’ve got a good thing going, who am I to rock the boat?”

“It won’t take too long.” I tried to add as much sincere reassurance to my voice as I could. “I promise.”

“Cool,” he responded with lukewarm enthusiasm. “You done with my back?”

“All done.”

He reached around himself with his good arm and outstretched his palm. “I can handle the undercarriage.”

I gave him the loofah and let him go to work, turning to the cabinet to grab a towel. He made quick work of it, already rinsing himself off by the time I had the towel unfolded and ready. He pulled the drain plug and splashed a little bit of water over his back with his good wing to get the last of the suds out of his coat, then stood up.

While I ruffled his fur and feathers with the towel, I didn’t really have much to say. Neither did he. Maybe he was just too exhausted to register anything. Luckily, Ty had a roll of gauze to rewrap the wound on his shoulder in the medicine cabinet. The climb out of the bathroom pit was quicker than the descent, Ty making his way up the rungs with care but minimal difficulty.

“Do you want anything to eat?” I asked as he trudged through the kitchen on his way to the stairs.

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, hobbling straight for the hall. I went to follow him up, but when he reached the door, he turned around to face me. “I think I’ve got it covered from here.”

“Are you sure? Won’t you need—”

“Nope, I’m all set. Thanks for your help, though. Goodnight!” The door closed forcefully—just short of a slam—and then I was alone.

He was upset. It didn’t matter what I said, no answer was the same as an outright no.

Because he didn’t listen to me!

I didn’t tell him no! That was his own fault if he couldn’t let me have some time to figure things out. Relationships are huge commitments. It was so unfair of him to put me on the spot like that!

I stormed through the den in a huff, but it was short-lived. I stopped about halfway to the door, guilt quickly overtaking whatever defensive anger I’d cooked up to let myself off the hook. Regardless of who was right, Ty was still hurting. He was probably traumatized, and then I hit him with… that.

I sighed, turning off the kitchen light. I still felt an obligation to stay over and make sure he was okay, but now it was clear that he didn’t want to see me right now. I’d give him some space and go back home.

The door opened in front of me, and in stepped Gallus, carrying a damp bag of groceries and wearing a bewildered, goofy grin on his beak. He didn’t even look at me, walking forward slowly with unfocused eyes and a rump covered in mud.

“What happened to you?”

When I walked into the apartment, I felt like I was floating. Beside myself. In a trance.

Had that just happened? Did I just hallucinate that kiss? I could still feel it, the faint tickle her beak left in my cheek feathers.

I didn’t need to pinch myself. It was real. She kissed me.

She kissed me!

I didn’t even notice the other hippogriff standing in the den until she waved her talons in front of my face. “You okay?” Diamond asked.

“Huh?” I blinked and pulled myself back to reality. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I asked you if you got everything,” she said, gesturing to the small bag of groceries tucked under my wing.

“Oh, yeah. Here.” I passed the bag to her. She took it to the kitchen and dumped it out on the counter. “How’s Ty doing?”

“He’s in bed, probably knocked out already.” I thought I detected a hint of annoyance in her voice. “He’s clean now, at least,” she said dryly.

“Good. He looked like he needed it.”

“Yep,” she said, and the conversation died right there. I stood awkwardly for a moment, not sure if she was going to say anything. The silence dragged on for a few moments, Diamond busying herself with organizing the supplies I brought, and I started edging my way off toward my room.

“I think I’m gonna go turn in for the night.” I forced a yawn to sell my exhaustion—not that I would be sleeping anytime soon. “You have a key, right?”

“I was just on my way out.” Diamond looked up, her eyes darting back and forth between the couch and the hall leading to Ty’s room. “Can you keep an eye on him, help him if he needs anything overnight?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

She let out a sigh, like she really didn’t want to leave. Before she made it to the door, she stopped and surprised me with a question. “So, how’d it go with Silverstream? I’m guessing it went pretty well, if the look on your face says anything.”

“Really well, actually. I guess we’re a thing now.”

Diamond smiled wearily. “That’s good. I’m glad for you,” she said with the faintest hint of sadness in her voice, and then she stepped out. Every time I’d spoken to her, she seemed sure of herself. Barely an hour ago, she’d been unstoppable in her conviction to find Ty, but now she was downtrodden. All of her spirit gone. They must have had a pretty sobering conversation while I was out.

I locked up behind her, shut off the lights, and went up to my room, which was just as plain and barebones as the last time I’d left it. The more time I spent in that room, the more I felt that it wasn’t designed to be left plain. With just a bed and a beat-up old reclining chair furnishing it, the room screamed for more pizazz. Even for me, with zero sense of interior design, I could tell something was missing.

Silverstream could help with that! I’d seen her dorm room at school, absolutely covered in completely useless decorations; paper streamers hung from the ceiling, under an array of cheap glow-in-the-dark star stickers. She even had a palm tree in there. If I breathed a word to her, she’d jump at the chance to turn the room into a chaotic mess of color and excitement.

I looked around at the space and frowned. Letting Silverstream just go wild on it would probably make me wake up with a headache every day, but if we made it a project together? She could come up with ideas. I could… keep her a little more grounded than she would be otherwise? It was worth a shot, anyway. And we could work together to put everything up! That sounded awesome.

I lay back across my bare mattress and stared up at the empty ceiling. I’d been in a relationship for all of ten minutes, and here I was getting all sappy and heartfelt. What would I be like in a week? A month? A year? Would it last that long?

Ten minutes was all it took for me to think about how soon it might end, and the smile on my beak soured. I could still feel the disturbed feathers on my cheek where she kissed me, and that was all I could think about?

I shook the thoughts from my head. I wasn’t about to go back to moping, not when things had just gone right for once. Everything was great! I just got a kiss from Silverstream. Silverstream!. We were going to go on dates! She’d probably kiss me a bunch more times in the next few days! I’d get to kiss her too!

Smolder was never going to believe it when we got back to school in the Fall. I could already see the look on her smug scaly face.

For once, negativity was easy to banish from my mind, and I was back to bliss in a moment. Silverstream kissed me. Life was good.

But if we’re going on dates, how am I going to pay for them?

I sat up and frowned. Until my next paycheck, I was practically broke. If I hadn’t bought that stupid clay pot sitting over in the corner, we could have gone to a nice restaurant later this week. Or I could have bought her something nice. Maybe she would like large, unwieldy pottery?

Or you can use it for its intended purpose, numbskull. It might not get me paid this week, but once I had a batch of wine to sell? That’d probably net me a quick two or three hundred bits, easy. Maybe even more if supplies were running low. In addition to my pay from the Navy, that’d set me up nicely.

Would Silverstream be okay with me doing illegal things for money, though? Surely not. In fact, she’d probably be really upset by it. She was royalty. Royalty! If it came out that she was involved with a petty criminal, that’d be the end of our whole relationship, if I ever saw her again at all. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

But I’d never afford royalty on an enlisted griff’s salary.

Or maybe I wouldn’t have to. Silverstream’s family had to be loaded, being related to the Queen. All she had to do was ask and she’d have all the money she ever needed at her clawtips. I could get in on that gravy train if I played my cards right.

But that was pathetic. What kind of self-respecting griffon expected his date to pay for everything? And so I was back at square one. How to pay for a royal girlfriend? A tall order for a recent street urchin like me. I was fresh out of alternative ideas that didn’t involve underground markets. Play to your strengths, I’d learned as a cub. If you have a skill, use it.

Silverstream didn’t have to know. After my shift tomorrow, I was going berry picking.

“Ok Silverstream, let’s do this,” I said to myself, stepping forward. My palette was full of fresh blobs of paint. My brushes stood at the ready in their cup. The canvas I’d started a couple of weeks earlier awaited with its partially dried lines of blue, yellow, pink, scarlet, and… whatever that confusing mishmash of colors was that I had started the painting with. The beauty of oil painting was that even with a couple of weeks' hiatus between sessions, the paint was still a little wet and workable.

The first order of business was to cover up some of that big streak of scarlet running top to bottom down the center. That had been a mistake, painted unconsciously while I was thinking about Gallus and his past traumas, how they were a huge fault coursing through him.

I took up my widest brush and loaded the bristles full of white, using sweeping horizontal strokes to cover the stripe. Since it hadn’t fully dried, the red started to mix into the white, forming an interesting gradient fading from pink in the center to white at the edges. The effect was nice, like a sunset in a hazy white sky, but what did it signify now?

I stepped back and scratched my chin just behind my beak, pondering the latest developments from the canvas. Pink fading to white was a color of softness, something tender and pure like a carnation’s bloom. A lot like a certain conversation from the night before.

Of course! Our newfound feelings for each other. What had been my frustration with Gallus and his strange behavior was replaced with a sweet, tender moment that bore the promise of something greater. The color was there, subdued and ready to serve as the backdrop for bigger and better things to come.

The symbolic meaning settled into place and I grinned, though I held off on a celebratory fist pump since my arms were busy with the palette and brush. For now.

Before I could ponder what the next addition would be, a knock pulled me out of my flow. “Come in!” I called over my shoulder. The door opened behind me, but I didn’t have to turn to see who it was before the quiet, nasally voice clued me in.

“That’s pretty,” said Terramar.

My first instinct was to throw down my painting supplies and go hug the stuffing out of my brother. After all, it had been a few weeks since he’d been up from Seaquestria, but the painting supplies occupying my arms put a pin in that. Instead, I greeted him with a smile. “Thanks!” I beamed. “I think I’m onto something with this one.”

“What’s it about?” he asked.

I hesitated, not sure how much I should share. Given that it hadn’t even been a full day since things with Gallus had escalated, I still hadn’t told anyone about it. And I knew that if I told Terramar, the whole family would know pretty much instantly. Heck, he might just fly straight off to find Dad and tell him all about the new griffon he’d have to haze.

No, I would break the news at my own pace. “A happy conundrum,” I said, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but it excluded most of the truth.

“Nice.” He was clearly not super interested in continuing the conversation about the painting. “Have you seen Dad anywhere?”

“I think he’s still at work. I’ve heard about some pretty crazy stuff happening with the Navy right now.” I took a look through the shade panel wall. Even on their wide-open setting, they left the outside looking slightly murky, but I could tell the sun was heading for the western side of the sky. Mid-afternoon. “Why?”

“Mom wanted me to give him some stuff,” he said.

“What kind of stuff?”

“Some papers he needs to look at.”

Legal papers. This wasn’t the first time. “I don’t see why she had to send you up here to do her dirty work.”

“I was going to come up for a few days anyway. The weather is too nice to spend all summer underwater.”

Missing the point as always, dumb face. “Well good, I like having you with me instead.”

“You know you don’t have to choose one or the other, right?” he said, his brow creasing as he tried to put on his best convincing face. “I go back and forth between Mom and Dad’s places all the time; it’s actually kind of nice.”

“I know,” I said tersely, crossing my arms. “But I shouldn’t have to.”

He sighed. “Silverstream, you know that’s not how it works anymore.

“Why not? Seems pretty simple to me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

I scoffed at him. “Oh really, I’m being ridiculous?” My hackles raised, sending a furious tingle up the back of my neck. “She’s the one who just threw Dad out like it was nothing. She’s the two-face who thought she could tear our family apart while I wasn’t even here and that I’d be fine with it.”

“Come on, don’t—”

“You can save whatever script she sent you with,” I spat. It wouldn’t have surprised me if there actually was a script hiding in his saddlebag. “I told her. She can see me when she stops being awful to Dad and comes up here on her own.”

“But—”

“Nope,” I cut him off, extending a wing to point toward the door. “End of discussion.” He opened his beak, but I shushed him before he could say anything. “End. Of. Discussion.”

Terramar sighed, and I made a point not to look in his direction until the door closed. Only when the latch clicked home did I allow myself to let out a breath. A little white-hot nugget of anger deep in my chest seethed, hissing and spitting, but it was a footnote in the larger chasm of emptiness that I just wanted to forget.

I looked down at my palette and brush, then up to the painting on the easel. My vision escaped me. The ideas I had about where to take it were gone, overtaken by my mother's sneering face.

“Thanks a lot, Terramar.” I needed to clear my head. Unceremoniously, I put my palette and brush aside and left the house, setting off on a long flight up the coast with no destination in mind.

I wasn’t sure how long I flew, or how far. Had it been an hour? Mount Aris had disappeared into the distance behind me, all signs of civilization gone. Sandy beaches stretched out before me to the horizon, but they offered no solace. My wings burned with exertion, but they didn’t distract me from the ache in my chest. I was alone with my thoughts and all the anxiety they brought with them.

Being alone is probably the worst thing I could do right now.

The realization hit me like a wave, and I pulled up into a hover. I didn’t have to be by myself. I had the best distraction in the world at a little apartment on top of Mount Aris, and that was right where I was going to go!

Chapter 15: A Pearl For Your Thoughts

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“Captain Sternclaw?”

The question stirred me from the state of near-sleep I’d slipped into in the previous hour of silence and calm. “Yes, Astra?”

The bridge was dimly lit by maddeningly small portholes; barely adequate to let enough light in to see by, even on a sunny afternoon. My second in command stood behind the wheel, piloting the ship more by feel than by sight. Mother of Pearl—or Halibut, as it was now called—was a cheap merchandise runner built for even cheaper sailors, now fitted to look like a humble fishing trawler. It was an overgrown dinghy compared to my darling Green Haze. The sort of ship that the hippogriffs would hardly notice.

“We’re here,” she said, pointing at the navigational chart. “The island is about two miles to starboard.”

“Marvelous!” I grinned, standing up and pressing my face to one of those too-small portholes. It was no wonder this ship had been so easy to commandeer with just one tiny sloop—they probably couldn’t see my pirates coming. Sure enough, out of the endless horizon rose the imposing figure of Black Skull Island. The island stuck out of the sea like a dagger, the jagged edges of the volcano that formed it shooting up at impossibly sharp angles. There was no flat ground anywhere on it, just steep slopes and cliffs all the way to the summit, where the mountain was cut short of its potential height by a wide, deep crater.

A chill ran down my spine. I had sworn years ago that I would never return here, but here I was.

Despite a steady wind, the waters around Black Skull Island lurked with eerie stillness, like they were held down by an invisible force and commanded to be calm. Perhaps it was a holdover from when the Storm King had used the island as a major hub of operations, some spell he’d laid down to minimize interruptions from the weather. It was just like him to try and scare water into submission.

Conquering this corner of the world had to have been much easier with magic. That overgrown yeti had certainly used it to his advantage, giving him an unnatural amount of leverage to get his way. Most of the inhabitants of this part of the world lacked magical abilities, making them easy marks for a tyrant with enchanted weapons.

I had neither of those things, at least for the moment. Charisma and traditional shows of force could only go so far, and I feared I was nearing the limits of what those could do. The hippogriffs were out for my blood, so it was either take another step forward, or everything I’d worked for would die with a whimper.

Or, more realistically, a volley of cannon fire.

“Are you sure they’ll show up?” Astra asked, craning her neck to get a view outside. “I don’t see any signs of life out there.”

“Without a doubt.” I leaned back in the little wooden chair I’d pulled from the navigator’s desk and stretched my wings until I felt a satisfying pop. “She’s here, I know she is.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” Astra fixed me with a doubtful side-eye. “What if we stuck our necks out like this for nothing?”

“Astra, I thought you’d have a little more faith in me than that.” I smirked at her, but it was only to hide my annoyance at her distrust. “It’s not for nothing. This might be the most important trip we’ve ever made.”

“If that’s the case, then why are you so tight-beaked? You haven’t told us squat about what we’re even doing out here in the first place!” Her tone held an accusatory edge, and she might have been the only parrot on board bold enough to use it on me. Everyone else knew the consequences of insubordination.

But Astra had a little bit of extra privilege compared to the others, as my second in command. “I just like to keep you guessing,” I said with another smirk.

That earned me an eye roll. “You’re nervous. I can see it in your eyes, and it’s making me nervous too. What aren’t you telling us?”

In that moment, I regretted giving Astra permission to question my authority in private. Having a source of humility sounded like a good idea until it was used on you.

I grabbed a small wooden box from the navigator’s desk and popped the lid off, revealing a disorganized heap of necklaces strung with glimmering, irregularly shaped pieces of translucent pearl. “It’s the shards,” I said, taking on a more serious tone. “We’re here to make them useful.”

“And why can’t we just use them now?”

“If you want to turn into a fish, by all means.” I offered her a necklace. “These things are as useful to me as feathers on a dragon as they are now. But I know someone here who can put them to work for us.”

“A weapon?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Perhaps. All I know is that we have a lot of magical artifacts, and we’re going to see a zebra who specializes in them. What she does with them is anyone’s guess.”

Astra seemed underwhelmed. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” I nodded.

“You attacked the hippogriffs and this was as far as your plan went?” She pointed to the box I held in my wingtips.

“Careful with your tone,” I warned, glancing at the door. A poorly timed eavesdropper could ruin everything, but it looked like no one was there. “It was a bit of a rush job, I’ll admit, but I had no choice in the matter. You see—”

A series of quiet thumps from outside cut me off, and I turned an ear to listen more closely. Wingbeats. Claws tapping against wood. Swords drawing out of their sheaths.

“They’re here.” I downed the last of the grog I’d been sipping for the past hour in one gulp, shuddering as the vile stuff made its way down to my gizzard. I could hardly bear the taste, but it would help me get through the next few minutes. “We’ll talk about this later. Keep circling the island until I say otherwise.”

“Are you lost?” a very familiar voice said from outside. Strong. Steadfast. Sultry. It was a voice I’d planned to never hear again. Another plan that had long since gone by the wayside. Steeling myself with a breath, I opened the bridge door and put on a big smile.

“Captain Celaeno!” I announced, stepping out into the sunlight. The parrots who had landed on the deck all turned their heads as one, and at once swords began to lower.

Before I could blink, a sword appeared close enough to my beak for a kiss, glinting in the sunlight. “Who are you? State your business!”

I held up my wings. “I thought you would have recognized my voice.” I gestured to my head. “May I?” She nodded, and I pulled my hat off, letting my crest feathers breathe.

The light of recognition brightened her eyes, and she lowered the sword from my face. “Artemis?”

“It’s actually Captain Sternclaw now, but yes,” I said as she wrapped her wings around me in a quick hug.

“Sternclaw?” she said with an incredulous smirk. “That sounds a little—”

“Intimidating?” I finished for her.

“I was going to say ‘garish’,” she laughed.

“Sometimes you have to be a little bit garish when you’re building a brand,” I said, joining her in laughter that I most definitely had to force, despite my annoyance. Appearances, I reminded myself. “I take it that you’ve heard of me?”

“I’ve heard the name mentioned a few times.”

“You’re going to hear it a lot more soon,” I said, intentionally trying to sound cocksure.

“Hey Mullet, get over here!” Captain Celaeno called, and a large green parrot fluttered over from his place on the stern. “Look who it is.”

Mullet landed with a thump in front of me, and his unpatched eye widened. “Well, I’ll be plucked.”

Somehow, I could swear his hulking frame had gotten even bigger since I saw him last. Even more parrot for me to despise, what more could I want? “Good to see you, old friend,” I said with a forced smile, stepping forward and offering a wing bump.

“What are you doing out here?” Captain Celaeno asked.

“Just thought I’d drop in and catch up with the old crew. And I need a favor. Is Vitali still with your crew?”

Captain Celaeno cocked an eyebrow. “What do you want with her?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say right now, but I need to speak with her at once. It’s urgent.”

Celaeno and Mullet exchanged a glance, and then Mullet asked, “Hmm, what’s it worth to you?”

I sighed. Life outside the law usually came with a hefty cost, even with the friends and family discount. I pulled out a small purse of gold coins from my pocket. “What’s the price?”

Mullet snatched the coins, leaned right down into my face, and grinned a grin that made me feel like my guts were full of vinegar. “You stay for dinner and a shanty or two, and you have to sing with your whole chest.” He slipped the purse back into my pocket.

Another practiced smile. “Like the old days, huh?”

“Under the Keel,” he confirmed. It had always been his favorite tune, and not coincidentally my least favorite. Mullet clapped me on the back with his wing and took flight. Good riddance to the overgrown vulture bait. He just wanted me to embarrass myself in front of a crowd.

With the object of my vitriol gone, I turned back to Celaeno. “How’s business?” I asked.

“Good.” She pointed up to the airship hovering over our heads, the propellers humming as they fought the wind. It was bigger and shinier than the last ship I’d seen her in charge of. And then I noticed two more exactly like it nearby, sailing toward the island itself. “We’ve expanded a bit,” she explained, noticing where my eyes had gone.

“I’ll say you have! Treasure hunting has been that good?”

She shook her head. “Same as ever. Hardly enough to survive on. Since we don’t have to worry about the Storm King anymore, I’ve gotten quite a few offers for privateer work.”

“Ah,” I said in understanding. The news of the Storm King’s defeat in the Equestrian capital had come with a front-page picture of Captain Celaeno standing next to his shattered body. She was part of the group that had taken him down. Every corner of Ornithia sang her praises for weeks after that. It surprised me that she hadn’t taken on a role in leadership of some kind. “Privateer? I didn’t know there were any wars going on.”

“It’s mostly just ship-for-hire stuff. Security work, escorts, that sort of thing.”

“So you’ve gone legitimate?” I asked.

Celaeno mulled over the term, but she didn’t seem to like it. “Eh, on paper, maybe. We’re under a contract with a ‘no illicit activity’ clause, but you know how that goes.”

I nodded. “More guidelines than actual rules.”

She also nodded and then gestured her wings wide, looking around at the deck and crew still milling about. “So, you’ve gone into the… fishing business?”

I weighed my options. She clearly hadn’t heard of my recent exploits: the expansion of my fleet, or the attacks against the hippogriffs. Staying unassuming seemed like the best way forward. “I’m still in the adventuring business, same as you. The ship is temporary, soon to be replaced with something more… flattering.”

Celaeno chuckled with pity. “We all start somewhere. You should have seen my first ship.”

I chose not to defend myself from the condescending remark. “Indeed. Things have been so dreadfully calm since the Storm King died; it’s been hard to scrape out a living. But I have an idea that might change our fortunes. That’s why I’m here today. Vitali has the expertise I need to make it work, and if it does?” I tapped my wingtips together. “Well, then I can cut you in.”

That raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“Well, it’s not easy to explain,” I lied. “It would be tough to explain without just showing you, and I can’t really show you since I don’t have a prototype. I just need to talk to Vitali to see if it can be done.”

“You can stop selling,” Celano said with a smile. “Follow me, I’ll take you in. My crew can guide your ship into the docks.”

“Thank you, Celaeno. It really means the world. Let me go fill in my first mate, and I’ll be right up.”

After catching Astra up on the relevant details, I flew up to the airship in a tight spiral, ascending with the box of pearls clutched in my talons. Its deck was roughly the same size as the vessel we’d sailed in on, but that mass was held aloft by an enormous gas bag, enough that the deck was in full shade even in the afternoon sun. In vibrant, flowing font, the name Harpie was inscribed on the bow.

I had missed airships. Sailing in ocean-faring vessels was a practice as old as time, but this new way of taking to the skies brought a new brand of excitement. Even for flight-capable creatures like parrots, sailing around the skies without the use of wings changed the game. Impassable lands became passable. Huge amounts of cargo could be moved in record time over routes never taken before. The world became a little bit smaller.

Of course, new technology came at a massive expense. Airships were completely out of reach to a typical gang of pirates, even to more successful ones like myself. Captain Celaeno had made a name for herself as one of the few skyfaring marauders, and now she was a hero with enough resources at her disposal to own a fleet of shiny new ships.

To say all that allured me was an understatement. When I had been a member of Captain Celaeno’s crew, I admittedly held a fondness for her. Yes, she was beautiful, but that was only a small part of it. There was something about her presence that I never could get out of my head. She somehow walked the line between being a fearless, respected commander and a beloved caretaker. I’d seen her stick her neck out for her crew’s safety many times over the years. She did it without thinking. It was the sort of compassion that earned her the undying loyalty of her crew.

Of all the creatures I’d ever stabbed in the back, she was the only one that made me feel remorse.

I landed on the deck as the airship gently climbed, heading for the volcanic spire that was the centerpiece of Black Skull Island. It made The Keep look like a sad little anthill. The cratered peak stood high in defiance of the ocean constantly nipping at its heels and trying fruitlessly to weather it back beneath the waves. Up and down the south flank of the steep black mountain, four small metal towers had been built for airship docking, with only the lowest one occupied at the moment.

A gentle bump signaled that the ship had docked. “I never thought I’d see this place again,” I mused as the deckwings tossed mooring lines over the side, calling down to other crewmates on the ground.

“Again?” Celaeno fixed me with a raised eyebrow.

Right. When I was part of her crew, I had been very tight-beaked about the circumstances that led up to me actually joining her. Though I could already see the suspicions growing. She knew what this place was in the Storm King days.

“Artemis, were you a prisoner?”

I said nothing.

The silence was enough of an answer. Celaeno took a few steps closer. “Why didn’t you ever say anything about that?”

“I prefer not to talk about those days.” It might have been the most honest thing I had said in the last week.

She nodded. “You don’t have to. I’m just surprised it never came up before, that’s all. I know they did some horrible things to the prisoners here. Are you sure you’ll be okay to go inside?”

“I’m fine. It might be good to see the place in a different context, maybe it will provide some closure.” Before the conversation probed any further, I took a few running steps and vaulted myself over the railing, spreading my wings and gliding down to the ground.

The landscape was barren, with nothing but black rock and a few scrubby plants daring to colonize the steep slopes of volcanic waste. Other than the tower, the only sign of habitation was a ramp carved into the ground, with a large set of metal doors at the bottom of it. The doors were open, with a steady stream of workers hustling in and out. The entrance to the tunnels.

Celaeno set down beside me and took the lead down the ramp. My heart rate spiked when we reached the bottom, and with a deep breath, I stepped across the threshold.

The ramp led down another meter or so before leveling off and making a left turn, the passage opened up into a tall, spacious chamber lit by harsh white magic crystal lamps. The prison cafeteria, once upon a time. It was certainly different than I remembered. There were no longer rows of tables for prisoners to eat their bland, insufficient meals, but instead the room was now stacked high with crates. Still, it retained the metal catwalks around the top of the walls for the guards, though those had also been co-opted for storage space.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” I said.

Celaeno barked a laugh. “A storage room?”

“Better than what it was before,” I said. “They used to intentionally let food spoil before they served it to us in here.”

Celaeno looked around the room. “So that’s what this was! I never could figure out why they had guard catwalks in a storage area. Shouldn’t there have been a kitchen or something adjacent to it though?”

It was my turn to bark a laugh. “Ha! You think they gave us hot meals?”

The humor dried up quickly as Celaeno’s concerned stare came back. “Let’s keep moving,” she said, ushering us past the old cafeteria and into a long corridor that led deep toward the heart of the mountain.

“So,” I began, “why Black Skull Island? I didn’t figure you would want to live in an old prison.”

“You ever heard of the three most important things in real estate?” she countered. “Location, location, and location.”

“A deserted island in the middle of nowhere is a good location to you?”

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly why it’s perfect.”

I pondered that for a moment, and the answer dawned on me. “Twenty kilometers south of the Celestial Sea trade route convergence.”

She grinned. “Every ship headed to or from Equestria passes within sight of here. It was more useful back when we were marauders, but being right in the middle of the hottest trade route this side of anywhere still has advantages. We can’t grow much food here, so it makes importing easy.”

“So many easy targets passing right by,” I mused aloud.

Celaeno shook her head. “Like I said, it would have been great if we were still in that business, but we’re not entirely operating outside of the law anymore. If I did anything to threaten those shipping lanes, I’d have two dozen frigates shelling the place inside of a week. No more raiding, but I’m in a great position to handle anything coming on those routes that the navies shouldn’t know about.”

I looked back over my shoulder at the stacks of crates through the cafeteria doorway as it receded from view. “Sounds lucrative,” I said, giving an impressed nod. “A river of trade, and it all comes through your talons. Wouldn’t it be great if you never had to worry about navies at all? Life would be so much easier.”

“Amen to that. Too bad they’re just a fact of life,” said Celaeno. I smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t change the game, but I had planted a seed all the same.

The tunnels were bustling with activity. We walked past dozens of living quarters and offices that had once been jail cells, their iron bars replaced with more inviting wooden doors. Her crew was much like mine, largely consisting of parrots from Ornithia but with a sizeable contingent of other species present as well. A few zebras and ponies here and there, and there was even a minotaur lounging in one of the branching hallways from the main corridor. It felt nothing like the gloomy, stinking pit of despair it had been just a few short years ago.

It felt like we had walked nearly to the center of the island when Celaeno took a turn into a short hallway with daylight streaming into an open doorway at its end. Suddenly, it dawned on me. Did she really give Vitali the entire crater?

The bright midday sun shone down from directly overhead, straining my eyes as we emerged from the tunnels. The crater was deep and nearly circular, lined with steep and jagged cliffs all around. The floor of the crater was mostly flat and filled with black sand, gently sloping down to the lowest point in the center. The sand was artificial, added when the Storm King needed more room to hold prisoners of war. With the nearly vertical walls of the crater, there was no escape for the unwinged. Deep in the pit, there was hardly any breeze, and the black sands became blistering hot in the midday sun. A massive cauldron, boiling over with despair.

I shuddered at the memory of unanswered pleas for water echoing down the tunnels we’d just come from. The crater held no prisoners now, but life of a different kind. Hundreds of clay pots lined every bit crater floor, each one containing a plant of varying shape and size. Some held tiny, bright flowers. Next to them were cacti with wicked-looking spines. There were even some rather tall trees offering a bit of shade. Running in between each pot was an intricate network of black rubber hoses, which all emanated from a large cistern on the far side of the crater.

At the bottom of the crater’s bowl, a rickety shack made of metal sheets and plywood stood like it really didn’t want to be there. Even though the materials looked fresh, they had been thrown together haphazardly; all of the thought had gone to function, not form.

“Hey, Tali!” Celaeno shouted, banging on the metal wall as we entered. “You’ve got a visitor!” She waved me into the room.

“A visitor?” said a smooth, richly feminine voice not unlike Captain Celaeno’s, but a little lower-pitched. The instant I heard her, I smiled. Years of memories flooded back through my mind, images of a very different time. Sweltering, backbreaking work deep in the mechanical compartments of ships. Meals eaten under an unrelenting sun. Long nights forced to stay alert on watch duty. In every memory, Vitali’s voice was there. I had missed it more than I realized.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I smoldered, sliding into the doorway. My eyes adjusted from the bright light outside, revealing a series of workbenches piled high with random parts, some of them merely mechanical while others at the far end of the room pulsed with ethereal light. It may not have been as hot in the crater as it once was thanks to the plants outside, but it was still very warm in the hut, and the low hum of cooling fans at each bench filled the air. At the center of it all was a zebra, on the tall side by her kind’s standards, but still only about chest height for me. A pair of clear goggles covered her eyes, and she had the same purple streak in her mane that she had always worn. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Artie?” She stepped around the workbench, her face lighting up. “Artie! What are you doing here!?” She bounded forward and snapped me up in a hug that took me off my feet, my light avian frame no match for her equine strength.

“Just came to check up on the best mechanic on the South Sea.” I smiled at her as she set me down. “And because I need your help.”

Vitali laughed. “So nothing’s changed at all,” she said to me, and then turned to Celaeno and nodded. “Captain.”

“How’s that crankshaft coming along?” Celaeno asked.

Vitali pointed to the massive metal cylinder that occupied the longest, heaviest-duty workbench along the back wall. “I’m just about to press the last bearing on and it’ll be ready to go. Shouldn’t take more than another hour.”

“And how much more after that?”

“There’ll still be a lot of work to get the shaft back in, but I bet we could have that all done by the end of the week.”

Celaeno nodded. “Good. I need Pirene back in the air ASAP.” She glanced between Vitali and me. “I’ll leave you to it. Just don’t take too much of her time, okay, Artemis?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said. With Celaeno gone, I looked to my old friend. “So they made you the chief engineer?”

“Took her long enough,” Vitali said, returning to her work. I stepped further in to get a look at what she was doing, fumbling with a thick ring of metal about the diameter of her hoof. Only now did I realize that her hooves were completely covered in black grease, which was undoubtedly now all over my back from when she hugged me.

I swallowed the annoyance at my ruined overcoat. Anger would get me nowhere right now. “What is that?”

“Nothing special,” she said, spinning it around. “Just a very heavy-duty roller bearing. Here, check out the old one. See how worn out that is?” She passed me a similar metal ring, which at first I had trouble telling the difference. When I didn’t say anything, she filled in the blanks for me. “See how loose those rollers are? And the heat discoloration?”

“Oh,” I said, running my wingtips over the bearing. More grease coated the feathers. “Sure is.”

“That thing was probably about a day from coming apart. You couldn’t get away from the whirring noise anywhere on the ship. This new one, though? WOW!” She held it up to the light as if it were her child. “High-carbon stainless steel from the foundries back home in Olduvai, complete with carbide coatings on the frame for extra corrosion resistance. This baby can handle a hundred thousand foot-pounds of torque without breaking a sweat. It took me days to convince Celaeno to spring for it, but this thing is going to way outlive the ship it’s going in.”

Even though I admittedly couldn’t care less what she was talking about, it was hard to dislike her enthusiasm. “Impressive.”

“You bet your beak it’s impressive! Here, let me show you how it fits on the—”

I held up a wingtip. “I’ll take a rain check. Remember, Celaeno wanted me to be quick.”

“Of course she did.” She frowned but nodded. “So you said you needed my help? Did your ship break down or something?”

“Not this time.” I chuckled. “It’s more of a project I’m working on, but before we get to that, I have a gift for you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have!” she cooed with a playful smirk totally unbefitting the words.

“But first you have to close your eyes.”

She complied and held out a hoof. “Gimme gimme!”

I reached into the pocket of my vest and pulled out the pearl shard of Itroscia’s captain, draping it over her hoof by the cord.

Vitali gave me a puzzled glance, but the wry smirk was still there. “Well, this is a sudden proposal. I don’t know if I’m ready to get married, Artie.”

I simply laughed. Vitali was known for her mockingly flirtatious sense of humor. “Do you know what that is?”

“I do,” she said, holding it up to her snout to examine the gem. “How did you get this?”

“I have my ways.”

“I’m sure. Hippogriffs don’t just part with these, you know.” She glanced at me again, furtively. “Do I really want to know?”

I shrugged. “Some things are best left unsaid.”

She nodded, but the suspicion didn’t leave her eyes. “And you’re giving me this, why?”

“I know you’ve been tinkering with enchanted items.” I pointed to the glowing artifacts behind her. “Maybe ‘gift’ wasn’t the right word. I need to use that gem for a project, but once I’m done with it, you’re welcome to keep it.”

Another brief look between me and the gem. She was considering a lot more than what she was letting on. “What kind of project?”

“Well, that depends. What can you make out of that?” I pointed to the necklace.

She smirked again. “I suppose you could embed it in an armband. Or a bracelet. Any sort of jewelry, really.”

“You know what I mean. I’m thinking of possibilities. What can the enchantment be used for?”

“Do you want to turn into a fish?” she asked.

“Not particularly.”

“Then you have a rare piece of jewelry. Or, correction,” she said, admiring the necklace again, “I have a rare piece of jewelry.”

“That’s it? Just for turning into a fish? You couldn’t turn it into a power source to do something else?”

Vitali shook her head while giving me an apologetic look. “Permanent enchantments like the one on the Pearl of Seaquestria are usually very specific. It’s harder to misuse powerful magic if it can only be used for one thing. Basically, the stronger the enchantment, the more specific it has to be.”

I felt my throat tighten a bit. “Surely you must be able to do something with it, right?”

“I don’t know. It’s a transformative spell—”

“So it can transform things! I can work with that. Could we modify it to transform objects?”

“If it involves transformation spells revolving around adapting bodies from land to sea, then sure!”

Pressure built at the base of my skull. “So why can’t it be used for some other transformation?”

“You’re thinking of transmutation,” she said. “That’s for inanimate objects. Transformative magic is for living creatures. They sound similar at first, but they get very different in practice.”

“So that’s it, then?” I pinched the bridge of my beak. “I can turn myself into a fish?”

Vitali nodded. “Pretty much.”

Suddenly, I felt faint. I sank down with a heavy thunk into an empty stool at the workbench behind me. Was that it? Had I thrown a sucker punch at the strongest navy on the South Sea just for the ability to breathe underwater? Surely there had to be something. Anything! White-hot rage boiled through my limbs, and I forcefully held them down to keep from hurtling that worn out roller bearing into the wall. Doing that would effectively end any cooperation Vitali might have left for me.

“Artemis?” she asked, peering at me over the pile of junk on the tabletop between us. “Can you—oh. Uh, is everything okay?”

I had to fight the urge to explode with a deep breath. “It’s not, Tali,” I said as calmly as possible. “I was counting on this.”

“It’s not the end of the world, you’ll figure something else out!” Her smile was so chipper that it somehow made me even angrier. “I believe in you.”

“You don’t understand. If I don’t get this project to work, I will be dead within the week.”

The room went silent for a moment. “Okay,” said Vitali, taking a step out from behind her bench. “It’s obvious that you haven’t been telling me everything. What exactly do you need with this pearl?”

“A weapon,” I put it bluntly. “I’ve made some powerful enemies and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to outrun them forever. I need something to protect myself and my crew. Something big enough that nobody will want to mess with me.”

“What did you do?”

I decided that not mentioning the sunken ship and hippogriff blood on my claws was the better option. With the conversation running on sympathy now, losing that would be game over. “What I had to do. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Those enemies aren’t coming here, are they?”

“No, they don’t know where I am. But once they find me?” I made a slicing motion across my throat.

It didn’t quash the fear in her expression, but at least she let the conversation move on. “Why did you come to me? I just fix things. I don’t make weapons.”

“Desperation will push you just about anywhere,” I said. “You’re the only person I trust who can help. Please, Tali. Help me.”

She looked at me for a moment, the conflict evident in her knitted brow. “Alright. As long as you don’t get me swept up in whatever you’re running from, I’ll help.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” I pointed to the necklace. “So, transformative magic can’t be used for weapons?”

“Not unless you’d make things better for yourself by turning whoever is after you into a water breather,” she said. “If magical weaponry is what you need, couldn’t you just buy some? I know there’s some of that floating around on the black market.”

“With what money?” I asked. “I’ve barely got enough to pay my crew, and even if we could find something powerful like I need, how would we steal it without it getting used against us first?”

Vitali nodded in understanding. “Well, let’s see…” She scuttled off toward the rear of the workshop. On a bench at the far wall, a small array of glowing blue gems were embedded in a sheet of metal, with filaments of similar luminescent fiber connecting them. “Surely there’s something I can do. What are your specifications? What type of weapon?”

“Anything that has a fear factor. Intimidation is ideal. An air of mystery would be good.”

“So something with range. If you can stay far away from the target, then they won’t be able to see exactly what hit them.”

“That’s perfect! Like a spell that could cause explosions at a distance, or something that shoots an energy beam?”

“That’s difficult even for advanced mages,” she replied, and I deflated a bit. “Without an enchanted artifact to base it on, I wouldn’t be able to do anything like that.”

“So let’s get an enchanted artifact,” I said. “Where can we find one?”

“They’re super rare outside of royal treasuries. Unless you’re up for a high-level heist?”

“As fun as that sounds, no. Far outside of my skill set.”

“Well, that takes us back to square one.” Vitali scratched at her temples. “I don’t know of any artifacts that won’t be under heavy guard. We could get some enchanted crystals that might be usable for some small weapons, but nothing like you’re after.” She held up the pearl shard to her face, staring deeply into it. “Unless…”

She stood up stock straight, her eyes alight with exuberance. “I’ve got it!”

“What is it?” I asked.

“I know where we can get you an artifact!’ As she often did when excited, Vitali started prancing in place. “And you could have it tomorrow.”

Hope poured into the pit of despair in my guts. “How?”

She held out the pearl shard. “I hope you know how to swim.”

The muted swish of fabric against fabric tugged at my ear, and I cracked open my eyes, their lids stiff and unyielding. The light in the room was harsh, glaring down at me from bright white circles on the ceiling. I’d just been looking up at them with no difficulty, hadn’t I? Why was everything so fuzzy now?

“Glad to see you’re awake, Typhoon,” said a high-yet-soothing feminine voice behind me. She sounded a bit like Di, and a little flutter raced through my chest, only to be quashed when I saw the blurry griff standing over me was wine red instead of sky blue. “How are you feeling?”

I opened my eyes a bit further, bringing the room into slightly better focus. The cot I was lying on was bright white, the linens itchy where they pressed against the skin through my fur and feathers. “Heavy,” I said, my voice a dry croak.

The nurse giggled. “I don’t hear that one too often.” She offered me a cup with a long straw, and I took several greedy gulps of water. “Could you rate your pain on a scale from one to ten for me?” she asked.

I craned my neck to peek at the bandages that now enveloped my entire shoulder, a thick layer of padding that ran from my elbow to the base of my neck, immobilizing the whole area. The pain hadn’t even registered yet, but now that I was looking at it, a stinging prickle shot through my shoulder, running deep into the muscle.

Still, it was so much better than it had been. “About a three,” I said.

“Thank you.” The nurse wrote something on her clipboard. She was very pretty, with a small, sharp beak and deep brown eyes. “I’m going to take your vitals, just lie still.”

“Sure thing.” Under normal circumstances, I would have thought of something more charming to say, but post-surgery brain fog was a little thicker than normal brain fog. My eyes felt heavy, and I just wanted to go back to sleep. With the nurse poking and prodding me, that would have to wait a few minutes.

A groan to my right pulled my attention, and I rolled my head over to the side. Another hippogriff in an identical cot lay prone, face contorted in pain, chest rising and falling in labored heaves. Most striking among her several injuries was a bandaged stump on her back—all that remained of her left wing.

The image of cannonballs punching through Eidothea’s hull played through my mind, and I shuddered. She was one of the griffs below deck when the second volley hit the ship. I didn’t recognize her as one of my crew, so she must have been rescued from the wreck of Itroscia.

If she had stayed in the water, she would still have her wing.

Another wave of guilt washed over me. It would have been better if we threw a shard down to the griffs overboard instead of trying to take them on. It was a long swim back to Seaquestria, but it was a whole lot better than getting shot to pieces on the ship. I could have flown it over myself without taking us in close.

Stupid. What was I thinking? I was the one who pushed us to rescue Itroscia’s crew. It could have been done without us abandoning our charge. We made ourselves vulnerable. Maybe the final decision wasn’t mine, but I convinced Captain Virga to make the wrong choice. We should have seen the trap coming a mile away.

Moraine was right. This was my fault.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I couldn’t look away. More memories rushed to the surface, and I winced as the splashes of bodies buried at sea rang in my ears. My friends and shipmates entering the water for the last time. Captain Virga. Powder Keg. Almost two dozen more with them.

At least I had been able to distract myself from all of that with the struggle of guiding a crippled ship home and keeping my remaining crew safe. It was three days of living on the knife’s edge, bailing water from our leaking hull, feeling every degree of list and wondering how much longer before the ship capsized. Three days of searing agony in my shoulder. Three days where the only thing that kept me going was looking forward to that moment when I’d finally touch dry land and get to fall into Diamond’s waiting arms.

It was over now, all of it. We were home. My shoulder was healing. Di didn’t want me quite the same way I wanted her. There was just me and my thoughts, lying immobile in a bed, surrounded by the consequences of my actions.

I did this.

How many others were there? How many more griffs were dead or maimed because of my decision? My ears still rang with the deafening booms of cannons; the sinister hiss of lead slicing through the air on its way to kill. The screams of the wounded and dying.

It’s my fault.

“Lieutenant? Everything alright?” asked the nurse. Her voice pulled me out of my mental rut, and I found her near the foot of the bed, a stethoscope hanging from her ears.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I asked, trying to make my voice as casual as possible.

“You just tensed up and your heart rate spiked.” She eyed me warily, looking the bed up and down. “You sure your pain’s at a three?”

“It might be a four now.” I chuckled, trying to laugh it off. The nurse didn’t see the humor, writing on her clipboard with a worried frown on her face.

“Just try to relax,” she said in a soothing voice. “You’re safe here. Everything is going to be alright.”

The bright, sterilizing lights overhead at least offered me a void to stare into. An endless expanse of intense white, nothing to remind me of the weight of my failures.

Or of those who failed me.

I recoiled from the thought almost as quickly as it came. That wasn’t even a little bit fair. Di wasn’t the problem. I was. I couldn’t force her to feel a certain way. We had both agreed a long time ago that it was a strictly casual relationship. Nothing more. I was the one who lost sight of that. Life could just… go on the way it had before, and that would have to be enough.

Still, the anger persisted. Out of everything I’d gone through in the last week, that was somehow the worst. The one thing I wanted to go right hadn’t come through in the end. It wasn’t Di’s fault, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

And I had no sources of comfort in this hospital, either. Only reminders that life was anything but normal right now.

“Nurse?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“How long until I can go home?”

She smiled down at me. “We’ll have to hold you for a few more hours to make sure everything is okay, but you should be able to go home to recover before the end of the day.”

I smiled weakly. “That’s great news.”

Just a few more hours, and then I could make sure I never had to think about any of this ever again.

“Gallus!”

I froze, stomach lurching into my throat. The large basket laden with a huge pile of stackberries I was holding obscured my view, but I knew what was coming. I heaved the heavy load of fruit up onto the counter, and immediately all I saw was pink as Silverstream snared me in a crushing hug, my face pressed awkwardly into the fluffy fur on her chest—which I didn’t mind as much now, I found. It was different when it was my girlfriend’s fur I was getting smothered by.

“Hey!” I attempted to say, though it sounded more like “Hmmpf!”

She must have interpreted that as a protest from me, and she released me from my fluffy pink prison. “Ok, wow. That is a lot of stackberries.”

I froze, suddenly without any sort of alibi. “Uh, I just really liked the berries.”

“I’ll say!” she said, picking up a few and asking, ‘Please?’ with her eyes. I nodded, and she popped them into her mouth. “Mmm, those are perfect!”

“I flew a little further out than the one I crashed into,” I said, letting her have the laugh without any protest. “Totally untouched. I feel like I barely even scratched the surface of what was there.”

“Ha! Scratched. I see what you did there."

I blinked. "I wasn't doing anything, but alright?"

Silverstream just snorted a little laugh. "What are you going to do with all these?”

“I dunno.” I shrugged, searching for the right excuse. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I could make cobbler again, I guess.”

“And jam! Jam keeps really well,” she offered.

“Yeah, that’s an idea. I might just see how many I can fit into the freezer before Ty gets mad at me.”

Silverstream snarfed a few more berries, which sent a little twinge of annoyance through me. Hours of work and getting pricked by the thorns just for her to come in and snipe the best ones. But at the end of the day, this was what it was all about now, right? Whether it was money from selling wine or just providing a snack, it was all going to the same place: to make Silverstream smile.

“So,” she began with a mouthful of berries, “whatcha doin’ today?”

“Nothing really. Just… this.”

She swallowed. “Then let’s plan something together!”

I snuck a glance over at my fruit basket. It would have been nice to get some juicing work done today, but it took me all of two seconds to make that decision. “What did you have in mind?”

“I dunno,” Silverstream answered with a shrug. “What sounds fun to you?”

“Uh, wanna go get food somewhere?”

Silverstream shook her head. “I just ate a little while ago.”

“Me too,” I said. “Movie?”

“We don’t have a theater here yet,” Silverstream reminded me.

“Harmonizing Heights?” I tried.

Silverstream stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry. “Nah, we just went there like a week ago.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Then I’m out of ideas. What else is there to do on a date?” Date. The word caused a flutter in my chest.

“Anything can be a date!”

“That doesn’t narrow it down, though.” I scratched a talon to my beak. I wasn’t quite sure what fun things there were to do besides the Harmonizing Heights, but there was one big curiosity on my mind. “Could we go underwater?”

Silverstream’s eyes widened a tiny bit, but it wasn’t quite like they lit up. “Is that what you want to do? I thought cats hated water, and you’re part cat, right?”

“Housecats hate water,” I corrected her with a gentle chuckle, “I don’t mind it so much. I’ve been wanting to see how that necklace of yours works, anyway.”

I thought I detected the slightest bit of hesitation as she drummed her claws on the ground. Did she not want to go underwater for some reason? The pause lingered long enough that I was about ready to ask her what was wrong, but before I did, her smile returned in full force.

“Sure. Let’s go for a swim!”

Nevermind. I didn’t want to go for a swim anymore.

In my mind’s eye, this was supposed to be a fun little outing with just me and Silverstream. In reality, it seemed like half of the entire population of Mount Aris had the same idea. The beach near the train station was packed. Hippogriffs of all shapes and sizes roamed around the black sands, from elderly ones with lots of gray feathers to tiny grifflets, who were also coincidentally the ones screeching the loudest.

“It sure is crowded out here,” I commented, hoping Silverstream would get the hint.

Silverstream fixed me with a quizzical look. “It’s summer and we’re at the beach. Did you expect it to be deserted?”

Okay, so she didn’t get it.

“Sort of. We don’t have beaches where I’m from,” I said, looking around at the crowd. Out in the water, some of them had elected to turn into seaponies. “Just muddy ponds that smell like dirt.”

“Ew! You really aren’t making me want to visit Griffonstone. Like, ever.”

“That’s the idea.” My gaze lingered on the ocean as it led out to the horizon. The further from shore you went, the fewer hippogriffs there were. I wanted to get away from the crowd as quickly as possible, so I made a beeline for the water.

Again, I began to question my choices. When I got to the water’s edge, I suddenly realized just how little I knew about swimming. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d willingly entered a body of water in my life, and never once had it been an ocean full of unknown dangers lurking where I couldn’t see them below the surface.

Silverstream blew past me with a joyful shout and bounded into the water, splashing me in the face and immediately sinking up to her underbelly.

If she could do it, so could I. With a deep breath, I waded into the water, which was cool to the touch compared to the sauna of heat and humidity on land. Maybe I needed to incorporate a quick swim into my cooldown routine after work. We went far enough out that we were mostly alone, where the water was barely shallow enough for me to touch the bottom.

“Okay,” I started once my head was the only part of my body above the surface, waves lapping at the fluff on my neck. “How does that necklace of yours work, again?”

“I dunno,” Silverstream said, twirling the gem around in her claws and peering down at it.

“Wait, you don’t?”

She giggled. “Well, I know how to use it, but I have no idea how it works.”

“I figured that would have been the first thing they taught you when they gave those out.”

“It’s super easy,” she said, dismissing my concerns with a wave of her talons. “All I do is close my eyes, hold the pearl in my talons, and think happy thoughts. Then whoosh! I’m a seapony.”

“Happy thoughts?”

“Mmhm!” She nodded vigorously. “Going from seapony to hippogriff is super easy for me. I just think of all the cool stuff on land I haven’t seen yet, and then I’m all beaked up in a snap!”

“But it’s harder to go in reverse?”

She nodded again, this time more slowly. “Yeah. I was kinda trapped down there for most of my life...”

“Oh, uh. Right.”

Silverstream smiled. “When I need to go back down to Seaquestria, I focus on the happy things I already have in life.” She leaned in a little closer and smiled, pointing a claw at my chest. “This time, I’ll be thinking about you.”

“That was the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” I said, but it was hard to brush off the swelling of joy it gave me in my chest. Was I blushing?

“Get used to it,” she said, giving me a little shove with her shoulder, then wrapping a wing around my back. “Ready?”

Truth be told, I would have been fine sitting like this for a while, but we had places to be. “Ready.”

Silverstream took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then a wave of light swept over us. It felt warm and tingly, a cascade that ran through my entire body from tail to beak. My limbs gave out and I dropped into the water, suddenly a bit denser. I held my breath as I slipped below the waves.

My instincts told me to claw my way up to the surface, to find air at any cost. But before I did, I felt a tap on my side. My eyes opened, and there was no discomfort when the water hit them.

Silverstream was in front of me, smiling with a face that lacked a beak.

Even though I’d seen her in seapony form before and I knew it was coming, it still took me back slightly. I raised my hand in front of my face, only to find that I no longer had any digits. A pair of long blue fins ran back to a body that also now lacked fur, feathers, and hind legs. I could have sworn I could still feel where my hind legs used to be, even though they weren’t there. The biggest shock came when I touched my fin to my face and it squished. No hard, pointy beak. Just a snout.

I was a fish now.

“Oh. My. Gosh. Gallus you are so cute! You look like a shark!” Silverstream swam over and grabbed me, spinning us around in a lazy circle. She was cool to the touch, slick scales sliding over mine. No fur. No feathers. It felt very weird.

But I didn’t hate it.

She pulled back and looked at me, and then she frowned. “Uh, Gallus, you can breathe.”

I gasped, but instead of sucking a choking deluge into my lungs, small slits opened on the side of my neck and let the water out. I didnt choke because my lungs no longer existed. It felt fine. Natural, even.

“This is going to take some getting used to,” I finally said.

“You’ll get the hang of it real fast! My cousin told me that when Headmare Twilight and her friends showed up for the first time, they were swimming around like they’d done it all their lives in two minutes.”

I thought about what fish did to move. Fins out to the side to steer, and the tail was the propulsion. It was a little like flying, but just… weird. I started wiggling what used to be my butt, and then I was propelled forward alarmingly fast, right toward Silverstream.

“Whoa!” she shouted as I bumped into her nose-first. I only just now realized how sensitive the tip of my new snout was. Sharp, tingly pain radiated through my face. It felt like I needed to sneeze, only the catch was that I lacked sinuses. “You okay?”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Just take it easy and follow my lead. I’ll start slow,” she said, and then beckoned me along with a fin.

It was different, for sure. Water was a lot more dense and resistive than air, and a bit less transparent, but it took barely a minute before I could keep up with Silverstream. Once I felt reasonably confident in my abilities, I pulled up to swim alongside her.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“It’s a surprise!” she sang back.

“Let me guess, we’re going to see Queen Novo’s underwater palace?”

Silverstream shook her head. “Nope, not even close.”

“An old shipwreck?”

“Slightly warmer.” Silverstream put on a little bit of extra speed, and I was able to keep up with her in no time. “How do you like the fins?”

“I miss having claws, personally.” I glanced down at my fins slicing through the water, little streams of bubbles trailing off of them. “But it is cool to be able to swim this fast.”

Silverstream nodded. “It’s a trade-off.”

“Which form do you like better?”

“Hippogriff,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “Flying is so much more fun than swimming!”

“Yeah. This is pretty cool, but I don’t think I’d trade my wings for it.” We were still fairly high above the ocean floor, which lurked below us through the water’s haze, but I could make out a few rocky formations down there. Silverstream angled downward, and I followed. The water in this part of the ocean was remarkably clear, much more than I expected it to be. When we were about halfway to the seabed, colorful bright splotches appeared. Just a few at first, and then suddenly the entire seafloor came alive with color.

We halted, and Silverstream fixed me with a big grin. “Welcome to Constellation Reef!”

“Whoa,” I gasped, spinning in a circle to take it all in. We were a good bit deeper now, the surface only faintly visible. Even in the middle of the day, the light was dim like the sun had gone down half an hour ago. The reef below us made up for that on its own, the luminescence of the coral casting a shimmer on us from beneath. Most glowed in shades of green and turquoise, though some had adopted a yellow hue. In the distance, I thought I could even see a bright purple one that looked like a very wide mushroom. It took a few awestruck moments for me to gather my wits enough to speak. “There’s no way that’s natural,” I said, turning to Silverstream and pointing a fin downward. “Like the Harmonizing Heights, right? Did seaponies make that?”

Silverstream shook her head. “Nope, this one’s all natural.”

“Get outta here. Can we get closer?”

“Sure can!” said Silverstream with an enthusiastic nod. “Just be careful not to touch the coral. They’re very fragile.”

“Can do!” I awkwardly spun upside down so that I could descend directly to the ocean floor instead of coasting in as we had before. It was probably more than I should have attempted with my level of swimming practice, as I quickly found myself barreling headfirst into the sea floor. Only a pair of fins wrapping around my midriff and yanking me out of my death spiral saved me from painfully crushing my nose again.

“What did I just say?” Silverstream scolded as we pulled up into a level path and gradually slowed down. Well, it would have counted as scolding if she hadn’t been fighting to contain laughter.

A hot flush burned through my cheeks. “I meant to do that.”

“No, you didn’t!” This time she couldn’t keep it in, a cackle escaping from her lips.

“Okay fine, you’re right, I didn’t. Swimming is hard, okay?” That earned even more giggles from the seapony on my back. She released her grip around my belly, even though part of me wished she hadn’t. And that made me blush even harder. Was this my life now, turning to mush every time she touched me? Thankfully, the low light wouldn’t immediately give that away.

“At least this time there wasn’t a thorn bush for you to crash into.”

“You’re hilarious,” I deadpanned. Before embarrassment could take over any further, I turned my attention back toward the vibrant, glowing forest of color that surrounded us. I knew vaguely what a coral reef was supposed to look like, and this was not it. There was the obvious glowing, but also the size of it. Individual corals were supposed to fit in my palm, not be big enough for me to carve one out and live in it.

“I see you’re impressed,” Silverstream said, drifting in front of me with a smirk on her face.

“This is crazy.” I swam ahead and did a lap around a huge cone that glowed green with purple streaks, easily three times as tall as I was. “What even are these?”

“They’re unique,” said Silverstream. “We just call them light coral. As far as I know, this is the only place in the whole world that they grow.”

“Don’t you have a tour guide routine you could give me?” I asked.

She laughed. “Not this time.”

“Why not?”

“I was never a tour guide down here, duh!”

“Why not?”

Silverstream looked around at the coral. “I dunno. I guess I got bored of this place after a while.”

“Bored? You? I don’t believe that for a second.”

She held up a fin. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I get a little excited about new things.”

“A little?” I teased.

“Shush. Remember, I was stuck down here. For my entire life growing up, this was pretty much the only safe place to go outside of Seaquestria. I used to come here, like, four times a week at least.”

“That makes a lot of sense.” Even with the grandeur of Constellation Reef, I could see how it might get old after a while. “I guess I feel the same way about Griffonstone. You spend long enough in one place, and it gets routine.”

“I bet there are some good things about living there,” said Silverstream.

“If anyone could find a way to put a positive spin on that place, it’s you. Or maybe the griffon who used to deliver mail to Grandpa Gruff. She was always weirdly happy for some reason.”

Silverstream swam up and nudged herself next to me. “Even though you say it’s horrible, we’ll have to go sometime.”

“Sure. It is a dump, though, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She smiled. “And I’m sure I’d love it, as long as we were together.”

The comment hit me like a sucker punch. It shouldn’t have, as innocuous as it was, but it was like a neon sign lit up over her head that read ‘GIRLFRIEND!’ in flashing lights. I’d known Silverstream for so long. Well, a year wasn’t a ton of time, but she was the longest-running friend I’d ever had, not counting the rest of our group back at the school. It was still weird to see her as anything more than my friend.

But here we were. A couple, somehow. What could I even say to something so sappy and flirtatious? It had already been too long since she said it. Now I was making it awkward. I had to say something, and I had to say it right then.

“Uh, yeah, you too.”

Silverstream looked at me like I’d grown a horn, snorted once, and then busted out laughing. If I wasn’t blushing before, I could feel it now. I didn’t have feathers on my face to conceal it anymore, so I was probably sitting there red as a cherry while she snickered at me.

“You really are new to this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said hotly. This time, the embarrassment stung a little. “How do you even come up with stuff like that all the time?”

“I just say what’s on my mind!”

“Well, I’m horrible at it. Are cheesy lines a requirement?”

“They don’t hurt. I’m a sucker for some good flattery,” she said. “Or pick-up lines. Those are great too!”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, even I know those don’t work.”

“But they’re funny! Here, let me try one on you.” She cleared her throat for effect and then fixed me with an impish smirk. “You look like you go fishing a lot.”

“What?”

She grabbed me by the shoulders and tilted me back like we had just finished a complicated dance routine. Her voice deepened a bit, imitating someone suave and rumbly. “Because you’ve got me hooked.”

A lot of emotions coursed through me in that second. First, the discomfort of being tipped unexpectedly, but then there was the nervousness that came from looking deep into her eyes while she did it. But finally, to top it all off, mirth.

“That was awful,” I said with a snort of laughter, quickly wriggling free of her grasp before I devolved into a blushing mess. “Did you really have to tip me like that?”

She shrugged. “Just trying to spice it up a little.” A spark registered in her eyes, and her face lit up. “Ooh! That reminds me of that time I tried to get you to try ballroom dancing.”

“Oh no, that disaster?” I grumbled, the embarrassment of that just adding to what I already felt.

“It wasn’t a disaster!” she argued. “You were doing so well and then you just quit one day out of the blue.”

“Silverstream, I dropped you on the floor when I tried to dip you. You had to go to the hospital to make sure you weren’t concussed.”

She waved that off with a fin. “But I wasn’t! Accidents happen.”

“I’d prefer them to not happen in front of an entire class. Seriously, we were the only non-ponies in that room. They were always watching and judging us.”

“You don’t know that. Sure, we got some looks because we were different, but that’s just how it is when things are new.”

“I have no idea how you stay so positive about everything,” I said.

“It’s all in how you look at things. Sure, I could just throw up my wings and write that class off as a failure. But we still learned some moves and had a lot of fun before that! There’s good in anything if you look hard enough.”

“I don’t know how I’d be able to put a positive spin on messing up and dropping you in front of dozens of ponies. I embarrassed myself and I guarantee you everyone else in that class remembers me as the klutz who nearly killed his partner.”

“Yes, because they all spend their time thinking about you, specifically,” she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “Trust me, nobody cares that much.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but I came up short. I couldn’t counter that logic.

Silverstream looked me in the eyes. “Would you ever try it again?”

“Eh, I dunno,” I said, crossing my fins. “I don’t think dancing is my thing, but maybe? I don’t know how you’d trust me to dip you again.”

She smiled. “I trust that you’d do your best, and that’s enough for me.”

“Maybe someday.” I swam a little higher, peering over the field of glowing plants. “I want to check this place out some more.”

I felt a little rush of water, and suddenly I was wrapped up in a hug. Silverstream nuzzled into my cheek, her smooth scales sliding against mine. Before I knew what to do, she pushed off and waved a fin at me. “Come on, there’s one that looks like a giant brain down this way!”

I paused for a moment as I watched her shrink away into the backdrop of multicolored lights. It felt like a daydream, like I could wake up at any moment and reality would catch up to me, except it wouldn’t. This was real. I was here, with Silverstream, and we were going to see a big brain together.

With a smile on my face, I swam after her.

Chapter 16: Here's To The Future

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“Seaspray? How are you feeling, sugar?” asked Queen Novo.

I responded the only way that felt right, with a blistering side-eye.

Her motherly look of concern soured to an annoyed grimace. “Maybe I should have let you stay in the suite until the medicine kicked in. But could you at least try not to make death glares at the diplomats? It’ll cause a scene.”

With a snort, I attempted to accommodate her and make my face a bit more neutral. “Maybe that would give you a headache as big as mine,” I muttered.

Novo laughed off my threat. “We won’t stay too much longer. I promise.”

Despite her promises, I knew her better than that. It was a reception party. Novo was in the company of other politicians. This was her comfort zone, and it would be hours before she was ready to leave it.

Which was fine. The painkillers she’d given me were making a difference now, but regardless, I would have preferred not to spend another evening rubbing elbows with snobby world leaders who considered me beneath them. It was the final night of the South Sea Rulers’ Conference, and we would return to Mount Aris in the morning. The thought of sleeping in my own bed was nice, but not coordinating an entire navy in crisis mode via the mail sounded even better. It would have also helped if that damned communication crystal I sent for had worked longer than ten minutes.

I simply needed to make it through one more evening of diplomacy and formalities. At least the reception was pleasant. The Ornithians pulled no punches when it came to the food or the entertainment—live music from an impressively talented parrot pianist and a spread of fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and liquors fit for a king. Thanks to my pained scowling, I hadn’t been forced to speak to anyone so far, content to graze on hors d'oeuvres while Queen Novo did all the talking.

Emerging from the crowd, a small blue dragon walked toward us with a purposeful stride. Without missing a beat, Novo was in greeting mode. “Dragon Lord Ember, lovely to see you.”

Ember’s eyes were set with tension, as if she were forcing herself not to blink. “Queen Novo, General Seaspray,” she said stiffly, “the Dragon Lord requests an audience!”

Queen Novo and I glanced at each other, and she smiled that knowing smile she loved to use when addressing her subjects. “Of course, Your Lordship,” said Novo. It wasn’t the first time someone had been nervous to address the queen, but it was a bit odd for another leader to be that way.

Ember grinned, perhaps a bit more earnestly than she had intended to. I gave her a courteous nod and excused myself from the conversation, allowing space for the two to talk statecraft.

As I walked to the refreshment table, I took in a few details about the guests. The griffons were largely keeping to themselves, of course. They were huddled near the large windows overlooking Arini and admiring the beautiful scattering of lights across the city below, stretching around the shoreline and off into the rolling hills beyond.

Behind the griffons, the sizable delegations from Zebrica and Cervidas were gathered around Chancellor Romunda and one other parrot I had not seen before, a dull roar of conversation emanating from the crowd. I noted the parrot who stood behind the Chancellor as odd, with jet-black feathers that stood out against the brightly colored Ornithians I’d met so far. Their crest feathers were long and spiky, and they stood tall and rigid with disciplined ease. They wore a vest adorned with numerous medals.

Were they a general? Why hadn’t I seen them before now?

I returned to Queen Novo and Ember with a fresh glass of champagne, tuning back in just as they were finishing up their talk. “And of course, if you ever need help then the dragons have your back,” Ember said, shaking Queen Novo’s claw.

“I know I’ll be sleeping better at night knowing I have you on my side,” said Novo with a smile.

Ember laughed. “Me too. Well, not that I’ll be sleeping better. I already have dragons on my side! Because I’m the Dragon Lord.” She seemed to realize that she was still talking and stopped herself with a breath, stepping back and taking a bow. “Thank you, Queen Novo. General,” she acknowledged.

“Safe travels!” Queen Novo called after Ember as she left, and then turned to me. Her eyes drifted down to the glass in my talons. “Champagne?”

I nodded and fixed her with a smirk. “It’s helping my head. Would you like me to get you a glass?”

Novo shook her head. “You know I can’t since we banned all that stuff. And neither should you.”

“And you know my opinion on that decree of yours,” I said, tossing a swig back without breaking eye contact. “Since we’re not subject to Seaquestrian laws right now, I’m living it up while I can.”

She tensed a bit. “I’m aware that the law is unpopular, but a little support would be appreciated.”

“I don’t support the drinking ban, but I still support you.” I took another drink, but this time it tasted a bit more sour.

“Very diplomatic answer.” Novo rolled her eyes and turned toward the gathered crowd around the Ornithian Chancellor. “Look at that feeding frenzy.”

“I was under the impression that you liked the other diplomats.”

Novo scoffed and chuckled. “Some of them, sure. Others, not so much. But would I call any of them friends?”

I nodded. “Every one of them is here to curry favor.”

“Exactly. Ornithia’s an economic powerhouse, and everyone wants a piece of the action.”

“It would be nice to have a few of their airships,” I commented, idly hoping it would plant a seed for the next time the navy’s budget came up for consideration.

“Chancellor Romunda is very proud of them,” Novo agreed. “Not that I would know, but apparently Ornithian airships are the best ones out there—and the most expensive.”

“Now I want one even more.” My quip earned a quiet chuckle from the queen, and I smiled. “I expected this reception to be a lot more formal.”

Queen Novo nodded. “It’s a lot less stuffy in here than it was the last time I visited King Eclectus. Don’t get me wrong, he was interesting company, but the meetings were always so boring and ceremonious.”

I thought back to how young I had been when Eclectus was in charge of Ornithia. This had been the first place the Storm King attacked when he began his takeover more than twenty years prior. I was still a colonel back then, and a fresh one at that. The late General Ironbeak had been in charge. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“I wish I had gotten the opportunity to meet him,” I said.

“You probably wouldn’t have liked him. He was loud and cocky—could be a real pain to work with.”

I elected not to comment on the similarities she shared with him. “Maybe these new leaders will be more agreeable. How did Romunda wind up in charge, anyway?”

Novo kept her eyes on the chancellor. “She was part of the resistance against the Storm King. Once the yeti got shattered, there weren’t any royals left and she jumped into the power vacuum.”

“Ah. So, why aren’t you over there feeding at the trough, then?”

“Sometimes you gotta play hard to get,” she said with a coy smile. “Romunda wants to talk to me, just you wait.”

I didn’t have to wait long. The crowd thinned out as some of the Cervidian delegation excused themselves and left, and then the parrots went on the move. They made a quick stop at the griffon huddle near the window, but the pair was headed in our general direction.

“Queen Novo!” said Romunda as she finally made her way over to our side of the room. A big, inviting grin crossed her beak. Behind her stood the dark-plumed parrot general. I hadn’t noticed it before, but they had two bright red patches of feathers on their cheeks. “I have been looking forward to finally meeting you properly.”

Novo’s diplomatic smile was back in full force. “And I as well.” She turned to me. “This is my top general and senior advisor, Seaspray.”

“Charmed,” said Romunda, offering a wing shake. “Your reputation precedes you, General. I must say, that navy of yours is a marvel.”

“Thank you, Madame Chancellor,” I said. “But not as impressive as those airships of yours.”

The compliment registered as her smile widened a bit. “As flattering as that is, I can’t take all the credit for them. Allow me to make an introduction of my own. This is General Nocturne, leader of Ornithia’s naval and air forces.” The general offered a wing bump but said nothing. “He’s been hoping to meet you all week.”

Nocturne flashed an annoyed side glance at Romunda, and suddenly I felt intense sympathy for him. “Nothing like waiting until the last moment,” he said. His voice had a bit of a musical quality to it, smooth and even.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said.

“We meant to find you earlier,” Romunda continued, “but it is very difficult to walk through a crowd that follows you everywhere.”

“We’ve had a lovely evening all the same,” said Novo. “You certainly know how to entertain.”

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it,” said Romunda. “But it is late, and the staff are waiting to go home. Would you two care to join us in my study for a moment? I won’t keep you long, but I would love to have more time to talk with my closest neighbors.”

I didn’t even have to look at Queen Novo to know the smirk on her face.

“Of course, Chancellor. We would be honored to join you.”

Chancellor Romunda’s study in the castle’s east wing was large and ornately furnished, with rich red carpets and a heavy, dark wood desk as its centerpiece. As soon as we arrived at the private study, the conversation turned to trade negotiations: a subject that bored me to tears but fortunately didn’t require my presence. I walked away quickly once Novo uttered the word “tariff.”

The walls were mostly lined with bookshelves, and each one was full to bursting with books. While statecraft and diplomacy were the conversational topics, I found a moment to wander and browse the titles. Most were books of law and civics, but some shelves held titles that were more personal to the chancellor. A few psychology texts and several works of fiction dotted the shelf, but the remaining space was filled with history books. Most of them seemed to relate to various revolts and revolutions from around the world, even including one title on the relatively recent independence struggle of Cervidas from the Griffon Empire.

The scrape of a claw on the floor drew my attention away from the books, and I turned to face General Nocturne as he approached me. He was quite tall and carried himself in an imposing, calculated manner. His dark eyes felt probing, as if scanning me for every detail that might give him an advantage. By this point in my career, I had come to regard that as a mark of a good commander.

Being terse and tense was probably the reaction he expected out of me, so I decided to throw him a curveball by acting friendly. “Did the economic talks chase you off too?”

It seemed to do the trick and disarm him, at least slightly. His crest feathers lowered a tiny bit. “Yes, I must admit. Not my forte.”

I chuckled. “If I know Queen Novo, we may have some time to kill. It’s one of her favorite things to discuss.”

“Chancellor Romunda is similar,” he agreed. His soft-spoken, smooth, and even cadenced voice did match well with his arresting outward appearance. “That and history.” He gestured toward the bookshelf with a wing. “Admiring the collection?”

“I may need to find some of these for my own library.”

“She would be a historian were she not involved in politics. Many of these have been out of print for decades,” he said, reaching over and pulling one from the shelf titled Mine Field, which he then passed to me. “This one is about a group of diamond dogs who smuggled weapons for fighters against the Storm King and never got caught. You can take it with you.”

I eyed it warily. “Won’t Romunda think me a thief if I walk out of here with one of her books?”

“I’ve got a copy in my own collection at home to replace it with,” he said with a wink. “She’s already read it anyway, so it’s not likely to be missed. Just tuck it under your wing when you leave.”

For a moment I considered what his angle could be. Other than the faint possibility of an attempt to poison my reputation, the gesture seemed sincere. And I was very interested in reading it. “Thank you,” I said, taking the book.

“Of course. It’s a great read. I hope you enjoy it.” He smiled, but that quickly dropped away as a weighty thought crossed his face. “May I ask you something?”

“You may.”

“Have there been any… troubles in your waters as of late?”

How would you know that? News of the attack had reached the press at Mount Aris, but my sailors had done an excellent job of limiting the details that were published. A ship was damaged in an unspecified incident with some loss of life and another had not been accounted for, per the articles I had seen. A notable event, but relatively common in the navy business. The news reaching this far and registering as something worth asking directly about seemed unlikely.

“Nothing of significance,” I dismissed. “Times have been peaceful since the Liberation.” In a broad sense, it was true. A single random attack was a small wave in almost two years of calm seas.

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” he said. “Rumors have been circulating from the sailors coming through our ports. They speak of escorts and heightened safety measures, sunken ships, rogue—”

That helped explain his unexpected knowledge, at least. I raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that my navy is not doing its job?”

Nocturne put up his wings and shook his head. “No! No, my apologies. I’m simply trying to understand what is happening next door. I’ve noticed the number of couriers coming back and forth since you’ve been here, and it makes me wonder if problems over there may begin to affect my territory.”

I weighed how much information I should give him. If we wished to maintain friendly relations with Ornithia—and that was Queen Novo’s intent by all measures—keeping events that would eventually wind up in newspapers as secrets was a bit of a hostile stance. “We have had a small situation in the past week with a rogue pirate gang harassing ships. We are dealing with it.”

Nocturne nodded. “I understand. We’ve seen our fair share of pirate problems as well. It seems that in the absence of the Storm King, there have been some shake-ups in the underground trade and too many are looking to capitalize.”

“So they make grand shows of force to put themselves on top.” That was the frontrunner of my theories behind the attacks.

“Was it Sternclaw, by chance?” Nocturne asked.

My head snapped toward him. “How did you know?”

Nocturne gave a small chuckle. “The file we have on him is lengthy. He used to operate in our territory, mostly in the far southern islands closer to the great ice shelf. It’s been a few months since our last report of him, so we figured he’d moved elsewhere or been killed. I guess he didn’t go very far.”

The gears began spinning in my head. “Would you be willing to share that file? It would help immensely with our efforts to track him down.”

Nocturne smirked. “On one condition.”

“And that would be?”

“You allow me to attend the execution when you catch him,” said Nocturne. “He’s been a thorn in my side for far too long.”

I grinned and offered him a wing bump. “Done.”

Nocturne nodded his thanks. “If you need assistance, I would be happy to send a few airships to assist with the hunt.”

“I may just take you up on that.”

My ear perked as I heard my name called from around the corner, and we rejoined Novo and Romunda in the main chamber. Novo wore a pleased, calm expression, while Romunda was busying herself arranging wine glasses on the desk.

“That was fast,” I snarked, earning an amused snort from Novo.

“Negotiations are easy when most of your agendas overlap with each other,” she said.

“Just make sure your ports can handle lots of airships.” Romunda seemed to notice the impressed look on my face, a knowing smile crossing her beak. “Care for a glass, generals?”

“What is it?”

“It’s a Nebbiolo wine,” she said, which did little to clarify what it actually was. “This bottle was part of the king’s stock. It was in a hidden room in the cellar that the Storm King never found the whole time he lived in this castle. Thirty-seven years old.”

That raised my eyebrows. “That was bottled when I was still in school,” I said, taking the glass of pinkish-red wine I had been offered. “I’ve never even heard that word before. Nebbiolo.”

“It’s the variety of grape used to make it. They can be a bit intense,” said Romunda.

The wine lived up to her warning. Despite not being especially rich in color, the flavor was strong and carried an unexpected twist. Sour at first, a sweetness developed the longer it lingered on the tongue. Underneath it all, I thought I detected a hint of nutty flavor like almonds.

After searching for the right word to describe it, I finally settled on, “Exquisite.”

Romunda nodded and smiled. “King Eclectus was known for his love of fine wine. His cellar hasn’t disappointed me yet.”

“To King Eclectus,” I said, raising my glass, “and his incredible taste.”

“Wherever he may be,” Nocturne said, and we all drank the toast. Well, the three of us did. Queen Novo simply watched, her brow creased with contemplation.

“Do you think he’s still out there?” she asked.

“Eclectus?” Romunda shook her head. “There hasn’t been any trace of him since the Storm King took charge. If he was, he would have come back for his throne by now. The Yeti didn’t exactly go easy on royals. Not to mention that he was pretty old back then anyway.”

Nocturne nodded. “Cut off the head of the snake, I believe was how he put it.”

Novo shifted in her chair, the faintest hint of a grimace slipping out past her calm and collected mask. Had she not taken the hippogriffs into the sea, she might have lost her head in the most literal sense. “Probably so. I guess it’s just hard to believe nobody ever found any evidence of what happened to him.”

“That’s what happens when evil dictators take over,” Romunda said with cruel certainty. “So many parrots disappeared without a trace. You hippogriffs were smart to flee to the one place he couldn’t touch. My guess is that Eclectus is at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.”

“Perhaps one day we’ll find him, then,” I offered, holding the pearl shard on my necklace up. “There’s a lot of ocean that seaponies have yet to explore.”

The parrots exchanged a glance, then Romunda offered a calm smile. “Thank you for the thought, but even if you did, we think it would be best to let the past stay buried. Ornithia is moving forward toward a brighter future; exhuming the body of our old king would only serve to remind us of what we’ve all been through.”

I nodded my understanding, then Queen Novo came in. “What does that brighter future look like?”

Maybe that was another reason why she was the queen. She always had a way of asking bigger questions. Anyone else might have been caught unprepared, but Romunda was ready. “One where every Ornithian is safe, happy, and healthy. We’ve lived in a dangerous world and lost so much these past twenty years, and now we have an opportunity for a fresh start to put that behind us and truly come into our own with a stronger economy than we’ve ever had before. We plan to listen to our subjects and provide them with ways to make their voices heard. I want to ensure that there is balance and fairness in the way we govern—” she cracked a grin ”—and maybe we can move the industrial zone downwind of the city.”

“Amen to that,” Nocturne muttered, earning a chuckle from Romunda.

“I bet your subjects are going to eat that up,” said Queen Novo, though I detected the smallest curl of sarcasm in her voice. She could tell even better than I could that the little speech was probably an excerpt of the typical one Romunda delivered at rallies.

“They’d better, as much work as I put into those words.” Romunda seemed to pick up on the sarcasm as we all shared a laugh. “And what does your bright future look like, Queen Novo?”

With a bow of her head, Novo shifted into the larger-than-life persona that she used at every royal address. “Twenty years of isolation and sorrow is enough,” she intoned, her voice taking on a forceful cadence. “It is time the hippogriffs and seaponies look outward at the great skies and seas we call home. We feel the sunlight on our faces, and it feels incredible. Gone are the days of hiding and fear. It is time to grow, to heal, to greet new friends beyond our borders, and join the world of tomorrow. I want every corner of the world to know that we’re here and we aim to make a name for ourselves.”

Two masters of hearts and minds in one room, sharing notes. It was a sight to behold. “Here’s to the future!” I toasted, raising my glass.

“To the future!”

When I was gross and overheated after a long day at the docks, all it took to wash it away and feel like a griffon again was a quick plunge into the water. Never in a million years would I have thought that swimming would become the best part of my day.

Of course, it did come with the problem of wet wings that made it hard to fly home, but that was fine. It gave me a chance to preen the feathers while I dried off. While I dragged my primaries through my beak and straightened them out, I had a little time to think.

I was in a good mood today, and honestly I had been all week. It had been a couple of days since Silverstream and I had our first hangout as boyfriend and girlfriend—did that count as a date? The thought still gave me butterflies in my gut—and I wanted to see her again. I wanted to go out and do something fun tonight, but there was just one complication: I didn’t know where she lived. I still hadn’t gone over to her house once. It probably wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out her address, especially considering that her family was so well-known and connected, but if I went and tracked her down?

Not a good look. The ball was in her court if we were going to do anything tonight, unfortunately. So that left me stuck in limbo, whether to wait for her to maybe show up or just go out and do something on my own.

Either way, I had plenty to keep myself busy. My first batch of stackberry wine was about five days into fermenting, and it hadn’t been stirred since morning. That thought propelled me off the beach and into the air, making a beeline for home. I burst through the door and immediately hit the kitchen to grab the biggest wooden spoon I could find.

The apartment was silent, as it had been for the entire week since Ty had returned. Not that I hadn’t seen him—he’d asked me to bring food and help him get down to the bathroom a couple of times. He thanked me for my help, but he didn’t have much else to say. By the third day, he was mobile enough that he didn’t need any assistance, and then the apartment settled all the way into that uncanny quiet. He made occasional trips to the kitchen or the bathroom, and then he was right back up to his room without a word.

Before he left for his nightmare voyage, I’d never seen the door closed, but now it was shut all the time. I wondered what he was doing up there all by himself. It was a bit worrying to see him so quiet, but it wasn’t my place to press him.

Up in my room, I tossed the filthy rags of my work uniform into a growing heap on the far side of the room. That pile of laundry needed addressing too, but it could wait. Much bigger priorities at the moment. I’d stashed the clay pot behind the door so it would be somewhat hidden when the door was open. The sweet, tangy aroma of the berries greeted me as I lifted the lid, with a pungent undertone of yeastiness. A little bit of deep purple foam clung to the sides. Everything looked to be in order, and so I plunged the spoon in and gave it a stir, which greatly intensified the smell. When that scent filled the room, Grandpa Gruff would take a deep breath in and sigh, waxing poetic about “Grover’s gift to the world” or something like that. I highly doubted King Grover was the one to invent winemaking, but I wasn’t about to correct the griffon paying me to listen to him ramble. The more I mouthed off, the less money I tended to get.

It wouldn’t be too much longer before this first batch would be ready to sell. But still, it wasn’t quite there, no matter how much I needed it to be. I put the lid back onto the pot and flopped myself down in my reclining chair, blowing a breath into my crest.

What to do? The most obvious answer was to catch up on some reading. So far, I had only finished the introduction of Nautical Terminology for Idiots. Even though I was around them every day, I still didn’t know a barquentine from a… boat. Case in point. I was so clueless that I couldn’t even make a euphemism about how clueless I was.

It would have been a great use of my time if reading didn’t sound awful. I didn’t want to spend my night inside studying like a boring loser. There were plenty of nights for that during the school year. I needed to get out and do something, but had no idea where to go or what to do. So I did what any self-respecting griffon would in that situation: I sat and stared at the ceiling.

Come on, Silverstream. Surely she realized that I didn’t know where to find her. Right?

A few minutes passed before I heard the scrape of claws and the thump of hooves on the wooden floor in the den, followed by the telltale tinkling of cinnamon cereal pouring into a bowl.

“He lives,” I muttered under my breath, rolling off the chair. Even if Ty wasn’t the best company in his current state, he was better than sitting alone.

Ty looked like he’d just crawled out of bed, with bleary eyes and his salmon pink mane a mussed mess—one long strand sticking straight up. His right arm was still in a sling, tightly bandaged, but he was getting around well enough on three legs now. He looked up and grunted a greeting from around a mouthful of his cereal.

That was more than he’d said to me in days. “How’s your shoulder?” I asked.

He didn’t respond until he’d finished chewing. “It’s been worse,” he eventually said, punctuating the statement with the crunch of his next bite.

“Better than before?”

He nodded, hints of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “So much better. Closed wounds suck a lot less than open ones.” He took another bite, talking around the food. “It still hurts if I move it, but compared to a week ago? I hardly feel a thing.”

I nodded. “That’s good.” He must have been feeling better if he was willing to talk now. Overall, Ty certainly looked better than he did when I first saw him on that ship. He was back to his normal grooming routine and was a lot fresher, even with a mane full of bedhead. Physically, he was more or less his old self, but there was something that didn’t quite seem right. For a guy who’d just spent several days on bed rest, there were still some awfully dark circles under his eyes; when he wasn’t looking at me, his eyes wandered elsewhere in a long, unfocused stare.

I’d seen that sort of gaze once before. Several years back, a few guards had come into Grandpa Gruff’s store back in Griffonstone. They were only stopping in for some supplies, and I helped them load their stuff into their cart. They didn’t say a word to me and had that same sort of gaunt stare into the distance that Ty did. Gruff told me later that they came from the southern border in an area called the Cervidian Wood. Deer vastly outnumbered griffons in that farthest reach of the Griffon Empire, and had decided that they wanted independence. The fighting had been going on longer than I had been alive, and only in the last few years did it come to an end when the griffons lost.

Despite my burning curiosity, I knew better than to needle Ty for answers. Still, I was curious about what had happened—about who had attacked him. The official statement I’d heard from Cedar Breeze referred to it as “an incident”. It was an attack, I was sure of it. How else would his ship be full of cannonball holes? I couldn’t imagine how horrible it must have been trying to sail back with that kind of damage, but the big questions on my mind concerned who did it and why.

Those questions were way above my pay grade, though, and it didn’t really matter all that much if I got answers to them. After all, what was the trash griffon gonna do?

“So how’d it go with you?” he said, cutting off my train of thought.

“With what?”

“You know”—he bounced his eyebrows—“the other night? You and her?”

“Oh, that.” Sometimes I wanted to shout from the treetops that Silverstream was now my girlfriend, but Ty was just about the only person who knew. Well, at least from me. Silverstream had probably told half the mountain already. “Yeah, it was good.”

“Did you ask her out?”

“Uh, kind of?”

He deadpanned. “What do you mean? You did or you didn’t, dude.”

“I dunno. The whole conversation was such a mess,” I chuckled, scratching the back of my head. “But it did end with a kiss on the cheek, so I guess it went well?”

Ty smirked and reached out for a claw bump. “Doesn’t matter how the ball gets there, just as long as it passes the goal line. Nice work.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Sure was a good effort on my part, avoiding Silverstream so hard that I circled back around and somehow got a girlfriend anyway. “Everything good with you and Diamond? I haven’t seen her in a few days.”

Ty sighed around the food he was chewing. “We’re back to normal,” he said, but his expression soured. “I’m sure she’s just busy.”

“What does she do?” I wondered aloud.

“That’s up to her.”

I almost protested the odd reply to my question before it dawned on me. Maybe that explained why Diamond sounded sad the last time I’d seen her. Had something gone down between them while Silverstream and I were talking? That would also help explain why he’d been so short with me for the past week.

Either way, Ty was sore about more than just his wound, and I didn’t need to tick him off by asking unwanted questions. At least I could pivot to the big thing I needed at the moment: advice.

“Huh, yeah,” I said awkwardly. “Uh, you go out to clubs and parties a lot, right?”

“When I can,” he replied, shooting a significant glance at his shoulder. “Why?”

“I’ve been living the hermit life for a while, just wanting to have a little fun. You know, like that rave we went to?”

Ty raised an eyebrow and his smirk came back. “Oh really? I didn’t think you liked it that much.”

“Yeah, it was actually a really good time. Do you know if there’s anything happening tonight?”

He wiped at his beak and cleared his throat. “I’m a little out of the loop right now, but I bet there’s something over at Meistra’s again. That or there’s this other club down by the shoreline called ‘Neon Oyster’ that’s pretty solid.”

“Meistra’s sounds good,” I said. “I bet Silverstream would love it there.”

“Totally,” said Ty. “Just be ready to dance this time. She was mad that she missed your first time there.”

I grimaced as a memory of the dance class we’d taken flashed through my mind. “Awesome, I’ll do that. I wish you could come with me.” I nodded toward his shoulder. “But… you know.”

He followed my eyes and frowned. “Yeah, probably not the best idea.”

“Yeah, and if you didn’t hurt yourself at the club, Diamond would probably do it for you when she found out.”

It was like the air sucked out of the room as I realized what I’d just said. Ty scowled as his ears flattened back on his head, and he quickly finished his bowl of cereal in tense silence. Once he finished chewing, he turned to me. “You know what? Screw it. I’ll go.”

The sudden shift in his demeanor was a bit disconcerting. “You sure?”

Ty laughed, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been cooped up on a ship for a couple of weeks and now my room. I think I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t cut loose a little.”

“I don’t know, I’d really hate for you to get hurt because of me.”

“I know my limits,” he said flatly. “I’ll take it easy, maybe just go get a drink and listen to some music. Nothing crazy, alright?”

I opened my beak to protest again but stopped as the thought of drinks crossed my mind. The smugglers will probably be there. I could find out more about their operation, maybe see if they were interested in buying what I was making. Suddenly, this had become a business trip.

“Well, alright then,” I said, though I wasn’t totally convinced. It hadn’t been a full week since he was in surgery. Without thinking, I blurted “What if Diamond hears about—”

His smirk hardened into a scowl. “She’s not in charge of me,” he snapped. “If I say I’m good, I’m good. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, backing up a step.

Just as quickly as he’d gotten angry, Ty relaxed again. He stood up and dropped his cereal bowl in the sink. “I’m gonna clean myself up, and then we’ll go. Ten minutes.”

With Ty off to his room to get ready, I went back up to mine. If I was going to find the smugglers tonight, I’d better have a sample ready.

Pulsating music and the smell of smoke rushed over me like a tidal wave the moment we stepped through the blacked-out doors of the nightclub. The only big difference this time was the patrons weren’t glowing in the dark. Meistra’s was less intense than I remembered—still loud, not the kind of place I would usually seek out, but more palatable this time around.

“What do you…?” I asked. Ty had been behind me just a moment ago. I did a spin looking for him, only to just catch a glimpse of his pale red tail disappearing around the corner to the dance floor. I almost went after him, but on second thought, having him occupied elsewhere made accomplishing my business goals easier. I could just catch up with him later.

I ruffled my wings to make sure the flask of stackberry wine I’d brought with me was still there. The narrow aisle that ran along the far side of the dance floor was a bit less intimidating than I remembered it. Surely the bootleggers I’d encountered last time wouldn’t be in the same place. They’d have to stay mobile if they wanted to stay ahead of the law, right?

Apparently not. The little back room they had been in last time had a tan hippogriff with spiky hair and a black jacket at the doorway, standing watch. They raised an eyebrow when they saw me come around the corner.

“You’re back,” they observed.

I was almost surprised at their memory, but then I remembered that I was just about the only griffon in this city. Of course I was memorable.

“Yep, couldn’t stay away,” I said, pulling out a few coins from my pouch. The sentry stepped aside, letting me into the little smuggler’s den. The setup was about the same, three hippogriffs sitting around an open-topped barrel in a large closet with a swinging lamp overhead. They all perked up when I stepped in, and the light of recognition flashed through the red one in the middle’s eyes.

“The griffon’s back!” he said, a smile lighting up across his face as he nudged the blue hippogriff to his left. “See? I told you he’d come back. Griffons can’t stay away from booze.” He turned to me. “Think you’ll make it through the whole cup this time?”

Game face on. I smirked and produced ten bits. “Won’t be a problem,” I said. The blue griff took the coins from me, and the one in the middle passed me a plastic cup full of dark… wine? It sure smelled stronger than wine. A quick sip didn’t answer the question any better; the taste was just bitter and a little sour.

“What is this stuff, anyway?” I asked, forcing a gulp of it down.

“Trade secret,” said Red with flat eyes.

I forced my way through the swill, noting how intense the burn was once it landed in my stomach. “It’s got a lot of bite to it,” I noted. “What’s the proof on this?”

The three hippogriffs exchanged glances at each other as they all tensed, then the pink one on my left fixed me with an accusatory glare. “You want proof of what, exactly? Are you a cop?”

I didn’t have to guess that there were weapons in the room. I swallowed hard but kept a calm smile on my face. “It’s a fancy way of saying how much alcohol is in it. Like a percentage. I’m guessing that stuff is pretty high.”

The griffs seemed to relax a bit but still eyed me suspiciously. “What does it matter?” asked Red.

“Just curious. I think you might sell more drinks if it didn’t taste like—” I tried to think of a polite way to describe the drain cleaner in the cup, but none came to mind and I settled for “—that.”

Red frowned. “If you don’t like what we got, good luck finding a drink anywhere else in this town.”

It was my turn to smirk. “If I may,” I said, lifting my left wing to reveal the silver flask tucked under it. “I might be able to help you with that.”

“What’s that?” asked Pink.

“A sample.” I offered the flask to Red.

His eyes flicked to it, then back to me. “You first.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, but I obliged, pouring a bit of my wine into my mouth without touching it to my beak. Directly comparing it to the smugglers’ product, I felt a little more convinced of my own success. Even without being properly aged, mine was quite a bit more pleasant.

Satisfied that I wasn’t poisoning him, Red took the flask from me and smelled it before taking a swig. I watched his face for a reaction, but it wasn’t quite the ‘I’m impressed!’ face I was looking for. He scrunched up his brow slightly, taking another look at the flask. “It’s a little sour,” he noted, passing the flask to Pink. “Where’d you get that?”

“I made it myself. A secret recipe from the ancient city of Griffonstone.” Talking about the hole I crawled out of in endearing terms almost made me gag, but maybe it would sound exotic enough to them.

“They’ve got stackberries in Griffonstone?”

I shook my head. “Modified for the ingredients I can get here, but the process is the same.”

“Ah, smart.” Red nodded, watching as Pink tossed the flask to Blue. Their reactions were easier to read, and I could tell from their little glances back and forth that they had enjoyed it. “Not bad,” said Blue.

“And that’s not even properly aged,” I added. “Give it a month or two, you’d be able to serve that to Queen Novo herself.”

“It’s pretty good,” said Red. “So what, you looking to sell to a seller?” he asked.

“Something like that,” I said. “I’m thinking more like a partnership for distribution. I provide you with my wine, one batch per week. You sell it, we split the profits sixty-forty.”

Red chuckled and smirked at me. “Sixty-forty, huh? How’d you arrive at that figure?”

“I’m doing most of the labor, so I get a bigger cut,” I explained. “It’s more than fair. You sell your… current stock—” I had to consciously stop myself from calling it fermented dumpster juice “—for ten bits a cup. I’m guessing you get about a hundred cups per barrel, give or take. A thousand bits, but let’s be honest, the quality is lacking. I can provide you with better wine to sell which will fetch a higher price, and without all the hassle of making it yourself.”

Red raised his eyebrows, “You’re smarter than you look, I’ll give you that.” He traded looks with his compatriots. “But you gotta remember I’ve got overhead. I gotta pay my griffs. I got rents to pay. I take the sixty, you take the forty.”

“Fifty nine-forty one,” I countered with a stern look.

“Ain’t that just like a griffon to drive a hard bargain,” said Red. “Tell you what, I’m feeling pretty generous today. Fifty five-forty five, final offer.” He held out his talons for a shake.

I took a second to consider. It was within the acceptable range for me, but only barely. After a few moments of feigning deep thought, I reached out and shook his talons. “Deal.”

“Great,” said Red. “And I assume you have a batch ready to go?”

I nodded. “Just let me know when and where, and I’ll have it there.”

“Twelve-thirty in the morning. Safehouse by the south wall.” He wrote an address out on a slip of paper and passed it to me. “Don’t let anyone see you on the way there. I’ll let my griffs know to expect you.”

I nodded, and with my head held high, I walked out of the little closet feeling like I’d just closed the deal of the century. My thoughts swam with the piles of bits I was going to make off of this. A couple of months of hard work, and I’d be set for the rest of the year. Fancy dinners, Silverstream dressed up with clothes and jewelry I could buy her. I hadn’t ever thought about buying jewelry before. Would she like that sort of thing?

A better question was: who wouldn’t like to have fancy things?

I left Meistra’s and immediately took to the air, making a beeline back toward home. I needed to be ready. What time was it? It was after dark, and I’d been at Meistra’s for maybe twenty minutes. Ten-ish? I still had a few hours. I needed to find a way to move that heavy pot of wine across town in time.

I burst into the apartment and immediately began hunting for something that rolled. I searched high and low in the kitchen and den, to no avail. I already knew that my room had nothing to help, and neither did the bathroom pit. Was I really going to have to go down to the markets and hope I could find a dolly to borrow?

Well, there was one more place in the house I hadn’t checked. It felt kind of slimy, but I let myself into Ty’s room in the hope that he’d have something. When I stepped in, I was struck by how different it was. The last time I’d been in there, it had been tidy and well-kept, if a bit packed with stuff. Now, it was just a mess. Lots of things that had been on the shelves were now carelessly strewn about the floor. His bed was unmade. The smell of smoke lingered in the air.

One thing that was the same was the lizard cage. Sassafrass sat on top of her log, sunning herself under a heat lamp. Then I noticed the terrarium and the cabinet under it rested atop a few small black wheels.

Cautiously, I inspected the wheels. It would be a rough ride, but it would probably get me to the drop-off. I bumped the cabinet, and lucky for me, it budged. The wheelbase was a separate piece.

Jackpot. Taking care not to totally upend the poor spineback lizard’s entire life, I took the glass terrarium and transferred it to his bed, and then with some difficulty shimmied the cabinet off of the rollers.

“Sorry, Sassy,” I muttered, replacing her terrarium back atop the cabinet that was now significantly less mobile. “I need these more than you do.”

Sassafrass tilted her head at me, blinking slowly.

I decided that it meant she gave me her blessing to use the wheels. It wasn’t like I was keeping them. For next week’s batch, I could find a better system to transport it. The wheels would be back under her cage by tomorrow at the latest. Hopefully, Ty wouldn’t be too mad I’d gone into his room without asking first.

I raced across the house with the wheels and placed them next to the unassuming clay pot in the corner of my barren bedroom. It was far from a perfect fit, but with careful balancing, I would be able to roll my pot of gold to the end of the rainbow.

“Meh, weak metaphor,” I muttered under my breath. I checked my alarm clock for the time, which read ten fifty-eight.

An hour and a half to go. I’d have to take the side streets and avoid being seen. If I wanted to get there on time, I needed to get moving now.

Moments like this made me glad that a ramp led up to my room and not stairs, because rolling the pot down into the den was a snap. All I had to do was keep it from speeding out of control and smashing into the sofa. With that first obstacle cleared, I began pushing the cart toward the door, but when I was about halfway across the den, the latch clicked.

My stomach did a somersault as I stopped dead in my tracks. Caught in the act on my first attempt? What were the chances?

The door opened and Diamond walked in, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly in surprise. “Hey Gallus,” she said. “What’s with the pottery?”

“Diamond! What’s… uh, are you doing? Here?” Normally, I was good at passing things off with nonchalance, but she’d caught me off guard in complete panic mode. Without thinking, I stepped between her and the wine pot—a move voted ‘least likely to avoid suspicion’ since the dawn of time. “Now?” I croaked.

She stared at me in wide-eyed confusion for a moment, then blinked. “If you’re that nervous about it, I’m probably much happier not knowing.” She stepped past me and into the kitchen. “Is Ty here?”

My heart was pounding in my ears so loudly that I almost didn’t hear her. “Uh… no. He’s out right now.”

Diamond frowned, her wings sagging a bit. “I knew he wouldn’t sit still for long. Please tell me he’s not out at a party.”

I didn’t respond immediately, and that told her everything she needed to know. “That dumb sack of feathers,” she muttered. From under her right wing, she took out a small package of white paper. “I’ve got his medicine, I’m gonna go leave it in his room. I’m guessing you’re gonna have whatever that is gone by the time I come back down.”

I nodded and she huffed a quiet laugh, heading up the ramp. I got back to work, pushing my payload toward the door. It was a rickety system and I’d be lucky to get it down the steps out front without breaking the pot. Next time I’d have to—

Another rush of panic shot through me as two hooded figures in black robes appeared in the doorway, blocking my path. Both of them held long, wickedly curved knives.

When I headed to Meistra’s, I had hoped that it would be a rave night or something intense. As my luck would have it, it was Wednesday. A weeknight. Plain old pop music greeted me when I walked in the door. Upbeat, easily palatable songs with lyrics about how great the party is and how being young is the best thing ever. The dance floor was half empty and the griffs that were out there were hardly even paying attention to the music. The ones that weren’t having shouted conversations over the beat looked bored. It felt more like a prom than a nightclub, but it would have to do.

It probably would have helped if I knew what day it was before we left. Everything had kind of run together since I returned to port.

Once I recovered from my surgery enough to make it home, the doctors gave me a bottle of pain pills and sent me on my way. Those had helped the last few days blur into one, and every time my mind circled back to Di and how I was an idiot for thinking I could be more than just a toy to her—another pill brought back the comfortable numbness. The bottle was supposed to last a week, but I finished it in four days. Now my mind was clear.

The last thing I needed right now was the ability to think. A dull ache still thrummed in my shoulder, but the real pain was in my head. Even with painkillers, I hadn’t slept well the last few nights. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw faces. Sailors I’d bunked with for years. My gunner’s mate. Captain Virga. Not as I knew them in life, but as I saw them in death. Missing limbs. Covered in blood. Faces contorted and frozen in pain as they had been in their final second of life.

Without drugs to make it go away, I needed something to take my mind elsewhere. There wasn’t much dancing happening, so I gravitated toward the music.

Come closer to me.

This song at least had a bit more of a sensual edge to it than the last one. I liked it. Even if a little generic and simple, it was also comfortable. Familiar.

I want to feel your body on me.

Even if I liked the music, it wasn’t enough. I needed more. In a trance, I walked closer to the wall of speakers that flanked the dance floor.

I want to feel everything.

I stopped in front of the speakers. Up close, I could feel the vibration of the sound waves against my skull.

Come closer to me.

It wasn’t loud enough. I closed my eyes and leaned forward just as the bass line came in.

BrrrrrrOMPboomBOMPOP.

The bass hit in thumps. The treble clawed at my ears. The details of the song melted into a roiling plasma of sound. My ears stung with every beat. I’d probably regret this in the morning, but I didn’t care. For a few moments, the sounds of cannonfire ringing in my ears were replaced with something else.

For that moment, it was… enough.

A few songs passed like that, with me leaning close enough to kiss the speaker. It was easy to forget everything wrong with the world when all your brain could comprehend was the insane amount of noise being crammed into your skull. From the chaos came a moment of strange serenity.

But before long, the music lost its intensity. High-pitched ringing took over as my ears hit their limit. It was more constant and predictable than a firehose of audio blasting me in the head. Through the haze of tinnitus, thoughts started creeping back in.

…could have saved them all…

Recoiling, I pulled my head back. The music receded, replaced almost entirely by the ringing. My ears felt like they’d been drilled out. I had to find something else to get my mind elsewhere.

…should have sent more scouts…

The dance floor was spinning around me. Apparently, getting boomed point-blank by a subwoofer was just as disorienting as it was painful.

…because of me…

I shivered as I stumbled toward the exit. It felt like someone was shouting at me from across the room, but it was all coming from inside my head.

…my fault…

In my daze, I was looking all around instead of where I was going. As I made it into the lobby, I bumped into something solid and warm.

“Hey!” said a voice that, despite being partly drowned out by the ringing, reached in and shut off the faucet of acidic thoughts. “Watch yourself!”

I whirled around and came face to face with a pale orange hippogriff with a beautifully sharp and polished beak. He was tall and slender, nearly my height. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of where I was going.”

“No worries.” He smiled and laughed smoothly, but that slowly turned into a brow creased with concern the longer he looked at me. “You good?”

His ashy gray eyes gleamed with an easy confidence that dared me to come a little closer. I knew where this conversation was going. I’d been there many times before. He would be the distraction I was looking for.

I put on my best smile. “I’m good. What’s your name?”

Set Sail

by Jack of a Few Trades

Chapter 1: The Ruse

Chapter 2: Settle In

Chapter 3: Trash Boat

Chapter 4: Ranting and Raving

Chapter 5: Two Birds in the Bush

Chapter 6: The Good Ol' Double-H

Chapter 7: Fortune Favors the Bold

Chapter 8: Fortune Favors the Blades

Chapter 9: I wonder what he's up to...

Chapter 10: Oh.

Chapter 11: Bankruptcy

Chapter 12: Face to the Door

Chapter 13: Let's Talk

Chapter 14: What Happened to You?

Chapter 15: A Pearl For Your Thoughts

Chapter 16: Here's To The Future