For lunch, Nibbs cooked up as much of the spoiling meat as he could and salted the rest. Raoul stayed nearby, helping preserve what food they had by stripping the onions of their mold until they were as small as chicken eggs. The soft potatoes were boiled and mashed, while the dry foods—beans and rice—were saved for the trip back. Together, their little company ate an unintentionally large meal in relative peace.
Their peace didn't last long. Inspector Hatwig decided to hold a vote on whether or not to fly into the Ring of Rage. She was met with staunch resistance from James.
"We don't have time to debate how to bypass the wall, Mr. Clay."
James was hearing none of it. "It's reckless and stupid. That's morphed magic! We can find another way."
Carver sided with Inspector Hatwig. "This airship isn't designed to go as high as the top of that wall, Jim. We can't go over it. We can't go under it. And we certainly can't go around it. That leaves us with going through it."
"Just because some of us made it once doesn't mean we will a second time," snapped James.
There was drawn-out silence after that, a few wary glances between Raoul and Nibbs, a stiff upper lip from Carver, and a defiant glare from James to Inspector Hatwig. When Nibbs gave his opinion on the matter, however, the glare James wore evaporated off his face.
"We can't stay, Jim."
James grumbled to himself about "death wishes" and "chances," and buried his mouth behind his hand. They were taking a vote and he was less than happy that the final decision was out of his control.
"And you Raoul?"
"I say we try." Raoul swallowed nervously. "I say we make Sunray as strong as we can and try for the other side."
"I'm fine either way," added Healer Pilluck from behind a magazine. "But I am getting sick of you all. If we choose to stay and starve, and it comes to cannibalism, I know who I'll eat first."
"Ha!" Onnan met that threat with his own. "Let's go for it! The sooner we return, the sooner I can file my complaints and strip this hag of her license."
Healer Pilluck flicked to another page with a bored, "I live in hope."
James massaged his beard. His energy had dropped. "Scarlett?"
Scarlett, habitually chewing on either her lips or her fingers, dropped her thumb from her teeth. "I always am ready for adventure."
That did not please James. He sighed wearily. "Zenetra?"
"The message from the scroll said the Islanders built their own ships, right?" At Inspector Hatwig's nod, Zenetra continued. "They saw ships sucked into the wall, but they could not have known if any survived. Maybe some did manage to make it to the other side and the people on them starved in the open waters before they could find land. We are in the middle of the Ghost Sea, after all. Carver is right. Crashing into it head-on is our only option. We have people looking for us."
James seemed to recognize his defeat and caved. "Fine! Let's get this airship ready for a tumble. The easternmost marker of the Triad will be the search zone if the reapers are out, so east is where we aim."
"We're leaving now?" Raoul gulped. "As in now, now?
Inspector Hatwig left the table. "Tomorrow morning," she said to Raoul. "I should batten down the hatches."
While Inspector Hatwig transmuted every porthole window from glass to steel and double-checked that their latches locked tight, Nibbs and Healer Pilluck prepared their workstations for the impending crash. They planned to leave the porthole in the door to the mess hall open for navigational purposes and would close it before striking the wall of water. It was an overall good plan, but Zenetra had one of her own.
"Say that again," said James around a mouthful of stew. "You want to do what now?"
It was dinnertime and they were crowded into the mess hall. As Zenetra proposed her idea, the others collectively looked at her as if she had lost her mind. James most ardently of all.
Zenetra set down her spoon. "It makes perfect sense."
James shook his head. The stew fell from his spoon and landed back in the bowl with a plop. "No. No, it doesn't."
Inspector Hatwig nodded slowly. "Cadet Noire may be on to something."
"No," said James. "No, she isn't."
Zenetra kept her voice steady and calm. She took a more pragmatic approach explaining her reasoning so that it would not sound so much like the diversion that it was. "Look, the ideal scenario is for at least one of us to survive. To ensure that happens, we should separate into different areas of the airship. If we all cluster in the mess hall as we did in the navigation room, we have the same chance of survival. We may have better luck by dividing our locations."
"I can't fly alone!"
"You won't be alone, Mr. Clay." Inspector Hatwig spoke to James, but her attention affixed firmly to Zenetra. "Alright, Cadet. We shall try this your way. Healer Pilluck, Ms. Burn, and Onnan will bunker in Sickbay. Nibbs and Raoul will be in their room below deck, as Cadet Noire will be in hers. James, Carver, and I will stay in the mess hall. Some of us may make it through the wall this way. Is that agreeable to everyone?"
Nibbs placed a reassuring arm over Raoul's shoulders and said, "Aye."
James shot suspicious glances between Zenetra and Inspector Hatwig, as if they had conspired together to separate everyone, but nodded regardless. He had little fight left in him.
"Good." Inspector Hatwig waved at their bowls. "Finish up and sleep well, everyone. We will need our rest for tomorrow."
Rest did not come easily that night. Zenetra tossed and turned. Nibbs' stew had formed into an unsettling rock in her stomach. The small can of firestones hanging from the wall made the room stuffy. She had left Mimi's amulet in the mess hall so James and the others could see the readerboard clearly, but now wished she had kept it with her for one final night. Without the pale glow of the moonstone, the room she shared with James was as orange as the cavern under the pyramid. The cavern where Mimi's body still twirled.
James rolled over onto his side. His eyes were open. The orange flickers of firestone light barely brightened the color of his hair. "You awake?" he asked lowly.
"Yes."
Zenetra heard James clear the sleepiness from his voice.
"Do you reckon we'll make it?"
If Zenetra's secret plan worked, they would. "I don't know, but we have to do something. Waiting for the last of our food to decay doesn't seem wise."
"And plowing straight into morphed magic does?"
A quiet stretch of unsaid fears for the morning hung between them. Zenetra didn't mind the silence. She had never been a chatty person to begin with. Filling a void with forced conversation was not enjoyable. It was her weakness, apparently, as the CF trainer had surmised during Zenetra's first month as a cadet.
"Your quiet demeanor is best for interviewing suspects and victims," Trainer Pewter had said. "But it will hinder the bond between your future partner and team. Communication is key."
The trainers either did not know or did not care that Zenetra had not been around people for several years prior to entering cadet training. To them, her aversion to social interactions needed amending. When pairings were announced and Clemence Pocket became the partner she would have for all four years of training, Zenetra guessed they were matched for their weaknesses. Whatever the CF believed they would achieve with that pairing had backfired. Clemence and Zenetra's personalities were too conflicting. They pushed each other away and sought the company of other cadets.
Clemence welcomed anyone who gossiped to her side and prided herself on how many more friends she had than Zenetra. Zenetra, in turn, was never jealous. She knew what attention felt like, and having herself surrounded by a mob of people who didn't really care about her wasn't a goal to reach.
One day, irked by something Clemence had said, Zenetra set down her lunch tray at a random table in the cafeteria. That was how she met Ottillia, Wende, Oliver, and Watt. They introduced themselves as the OWOW team, with Oliver yipping it loudly like a dog and earning strange looks from their peers in the process.
"Ow-Ow!" Oliver had howled. "You've got to say it like that so people know we're a team!"
It was different with James. Their conversation was neither awkward nor forced, and if stretches of silence passed, whether they be long-lasting or short lulls, that was alright too. They could argue over one issue and agree on the next. Tonight, however, it seemed James needed to talk.
*******************
Preview for next chapter:
James opens up about his origins. Zenetra puts her secret plan to the test.
Getting close to the end, folks! Leave some encouragement by way of a star or comment!