What Lies Beneath the Surface

The next day was a quiet one for Misty Skies, but so far as he was concerned was well-deserved. He checked the weather a few times and checked radio signals for a hundred miles, but otherwise had a wonderful day resting on the boat.

He woke up with the others for breakfast around seven, but went back to his cabin to sleep some more once breakfast was over. He slept until almost eleven, and once he woke up had a good shower to wash the salt out of his coat and give himself a good scrub down. Instead of a towel, he went out onto the pavilion on the deck and lay in the seat that offered the most sun.

By the time he was dry, it was noon and lunch was being served. Siren Song gave him a quick report of their doings in line for lunch, but joined the other researchers and Twilight and it seemed kept on working; Mist sat close enough to overhear them talking about the other samples they would need to collect and double-checking with Twilight to make sure the storage tanks were a-okay.

The afternoon passed slowly. Mist read the book on marine biology he borrowed from Twilight some more, watched some television from the limited channels they had, and when he got stir-crazy walked the deck and played some solitaire in one of the lounges.

Deciding that at least watching wouldn’t do any harm, Mist walked over to the back of the frigate and looked over the side at where the little dock was. It was quiet for a while, but soon he saw Pacific Skies come up with a plastic bag in his mouth containing a brightly-colored fish. He talked with Twilight for a while but Twilight seemed to disapprove, at which point the fish was released and Pacific Skies went right back down. Nothing else happened, so Mist went back over to the pavilion and got one of his own books to read.

By the time dinner came at six, the group looked rather pleased but – excluding Siren Song – also very tired. They had each been swimming in shifts of two hours, and Twilight had spent her own “down time” while they were underwater starting some tests in a special room in the bottom of the frigate that would have to be checked back on in a few days, testing water quality and contaminant levels.

This, according to Siren Song when they sat in the lounge room after dinner, the most of them too tired to even play cards, was the main point of their cruise.

“Apparently, the big wigs at the research foundation I did my last assignment for found some crucial problems regarding contaminants. They wanted us to check a few areas, bring back a few samples of fish to look at the effects of the contaminants, as well as do a test run of our special frigate. Runs primarily off of electricity and hydrogen gas; should be cleaner than most ‘modern’ gas-powered ships. If that’s the case, and we have evidence of high pollutants, it should be enough to make the switch.”

“Pardon my Prench,” Siren Song continued with an ire that Mist rarely saw out of him, “but shit’s dying down there. Is it so fucking hard to change your course out of the worst areas?” He banged the chair with his hoof as he spat out the words. “Or to trade less and not be dumping shit down the drain? It ruins ecosystems and food sources all in one fell swoop with the rate you greedy bastards are at.” He coughed and gave an almost apologetic look to Mist, who had recoiled in one of the few times he felt repulsed by the stallion. “Present company being an exception.”

Mist realized part of the tirade was against his profession as the ship’s navigator, but understood at least some of what Siren Song meant. “Why not collaborate with a non-profit? You know, use the research to spread the word? Advocate for more of these frigate things to be built?”

“That’s all well and good, but no one listens to us,” Siren Song replied, calmed down from his tirade but still visibly aggravated. “No matter the warnings, and no matter how attractive we make the alternatives sound, there’s nothing to sway them otherwise.”

“What about making pamphlets or booklets and send them out in the mail? It’s kind of cheap if you do it in bulk, and the language is simpler and more direct. Gets ponies involved without leaving home.”

“I don’t know how much the common pony would understand of our plight. I mean, sure, there’s the aquarium in Vanhoover that does some decent work, but really, how many are going to care beyond a tourist attraction? And how much would that do to stop the gas-powered ships?”

Mist had to admit it would do very little on the part of the gas-leaking ships.

“And the frigates are expensive and at least a year in construction,” Siren Song said. “In that time, nearly fifteen thousand gas-powered ships will pass over areas like this, making them worse off.”

“You forget there is a Princess on board.”

Siren Song and Mist turned to Twilight Sparkle, who had walked over to them. “If I can get a look at the diagrams of the frigate, I may be able to get a few more running in, say, three to six months with proper allocation of funding? And if we can get a few more running and take down a few steam-powered ships, it may help. And once we look at those research reports and send them through, I may be able to convince Princess Celestia of the cause.”

Siren Song smiled. “Your suggestion is like the voice of an angel, Your Highness, and most appreciated. It shall take some time for the research, of course, but if we have the backing of a Princess behind it, I have faith it shall succeed.”

Twilight smiled and chuckled. “In the meantime, however, it would do good to do what Mist suggested. At least, some of it. Public support is as much of a spur as that of a Princess.”

“Perhaps. But the oceans are like home to me, and I suppose my cynical side at seeing their deterioration is finally coming to a head. But, if you also think it is well, Princess, I shall run it by my fellows at the research foundation. The non-profit sounds like a good place to start.”

“And I’ll be your first donation,” Mist said.

Siren Song may have been smiling at the Princess, but it was much wider when he looked at Mist afterwards.

The rest of the evening was spent in relative calm, but the next day Misty Skies set out about his work again. He convened with the Captain after breakfast, received the next set of coordinates from Siren Song, and began helping to guide the ship northwards.

Their second stop was an atoll about forty or so miles off the coast of Vanhoover. There would be a long voyage; nearly ninety miles upwards to be parallel with Sirena Harbor, then another hundred and ten after that to reach the site of the Vanhoover Atoll. Seven hours all told at twenty-five knots; they embarked at nine in clear weather, and did not expect to reach the atoll until almost four in the afternoon. The Captain had no intentions of stopping for lunch, either.

“Shall I have the servant bring you up a sandwich?” Siren Song asked.

“That would be helpful,” the Captain said. “Mist, check back in after lunch hour. Shouldn’t be hard to get back to Sirena Harbor area if I just follow the coastline, but I’ll need the guidance after that.”

Mist found himself with a free morning. He decided to use that morning to learn more about Siren Song. And so, when the Captain dismissed him, he was quite pleased when Siren Song offered to take him down to the holding tanks and explain the details of his current assignment.

They were specifically looking for sick-looking fish. The point was to rescue them and take a sample of the water they were found in, place them in cleaner water to see how quickly they recovered, and take the water sample and see what the level of pollutants were. Twilight’s main portion of the research was looking at pollutant levels, Siren Song knew the fish species the best and how to determine which were sick, Coral Reef knew how best to care for the fish, and Pacific Skies knew the ecology of each to keep them in the right setting for transportation.

Once the fish were successfully taken back to the research foundation, they would be placed in the Vanhoover Aquarium, which kept clean and well-designed tanks, in hopes of helping rehabilitate and teach the public about the fish. The findings were to go to anywhere from one to five journals and the Equestrian National Science Foundation, which hosted a compendium and helped write new laws around the research done. According to Siren Song, it was this foundation that helped come up with the new frigate they were on and, if their voyage was successful, would most likely be the first to back the Princess in constructing more.

Mist remained silent until they were up on the deck, relaxing in the pavilion while waiting for lunch.

“It’s almost surprising how something so beautiful is really so sick,” he said. “It puts my whole experience two days ago in a different perspective.”

“Ah, if only we could do more like that. But there are not enough breathing spells or warming spells for everyone.”

“It doesn’t need to be everyone,” Mist said. “Key ones. Ones you know could act as advocates. I mean, you have Princess Twilight on your side now. Why not offer some of the nobility? Do a pleasure cruise like this, offer some diving opportunities, all while teaching them about the ocean and this new frigate.”

“Perhaps, in time, more will come and see, but for now I can’t bring everyone. I had to jump through a few hoops just to get you on here, even with your status as a navigator.”

“I could start helping out by speaking with other Captains. If they hear about the frigate and all the stuff on here and the capabilities, they might be in for switching to it.”

Siren Song smiled gently at Mist. “A few days ago, I did not think I would find someone so enthusiastic and willing to help.”

Mist shrugged. “I don’t know much. But I’ve learned quite a bit over the last few days. I can’t just sit back, after seeing and hearing what I have. I feel like I have to do something.”

Siren Song smiled, but this time there was something sad in his eyes. “Maybe. But not yet. The time isn’t right.”

The bell for lunch rang and the two helped themselves to eggplant sandwiches and fruit salad. Once lunch was over, Mist went up and was in the Captain’s cabin and worked for an hour straight. He reacquainted himself with the position of the boat, made a few radio calls to Sirena Harbor and Vanhoover for weather and traffic checks – which came back as “all clear” – and cleared their entrance to the Vanhoover Atoll.

While still warm under the sun, the weather had become slightly colder and a breeze started blowing, enough to give even the alicorn Twilight Sparkle a chill. Having nothing to do and finally awake from their expeditions the previous afternoon, a few board games were brought out in the lounge room and the researchers were playing Parcheesi and Mancala. One of Twilight’s off-duty guards, a white pegasus stallion with a cutie mark of one black and one white wing, even joined in when a game of dominos was started.

When Mist went back to check after another hour to start guiding the entrance to Vanhoover Atoll, the wind had picked up and the seas became choppy. The games had to be put away because pieces were sliding all over the tables, and the more sensitive members of the crew had to sit down from seasickness. Mist went back up to the cabin and asked if the Captain saw anything.

“Not a thing,” the Captain said. “It just suddenly picked up like this. Never seen anything like it; one moment we’re calm and clear as can be, next the wind suddenly starts up and the seas start churning.”

But Mist had. He wasn’t quite getting flashbacks, but he could smell the danger signs and hoped nothing would turn out as it had before. “Hope we don’t get a storm,” Mist said.

“Maybe you should call to Vanhoover and see if they picked anything up,” the Captain said. He squinted into the distance. “Seems like it’s getting worse, too.”

Mist immediately picked up the radio. “Vanhoover Port, this is Misty Skies, navigator of the ENSF Research Frigate-001, do you copy, over?”

There was a moment of silence. “Misty Skies, this is Vanhoover Port, hear you loud and clear, over.”

“There’s a strange change in the weather here, VP. Winds are going about thirty knots and rising and we’re getting waves about a hoof and a half high. Did you have anything on the weather reports about this, over?”

“Negative, 001. We’re picking up a storm on the radar; seems to be about ten miles away from your position and came up only about fifteen minutes ago, over.”

Fifteen minutes ago… same as before… Mist steeled himself and spoke into the radio again. “Any idea if there’s been any weird weather patterns like this one lately, over?”

“Not around here. They’re more common lately around the Sirena Harbor port. We thought it might fizzle out soon, but it seems to be gaining in strength, over.”

“Well, we’re about fifteen miles from the Vanhoover Atoll. Do you think we should try and make it or should we turn in and see if we can make it to port, over?"

“Storm’s coming in fast. Make for the atoll; there’s no sharp rocks and you can harbor by the beach to the east. Land’s a little taller on that side and may help steady the ship, over.”

“Travelling at about twenty-five knots right now. Do you mind if we bump it up to thirty to get there quicker, over?”

“All clear, 001. Opening for the Atoll is wide enough you shouldn’t have any problems at that speed, over.”

“Alright, VP. Will radio again once we’ve anchored in the atoll, over.”

“Roger that, 001. We’ll keep tabs on the weather and radio if we need a change of action. Vanhoover Port, over and out.”

The Captain acted immediately without Mist needing to relay the conversation. He pressed forwards the accelerator and the ship quickly picked up speed. The frigate sliced through the water easily, but the waves still rocked the boat every once in a while.

It wasn’t long after until Siren Song burst into the room. “What’s happening? Is everything alright?”

“Reports of a storm coming in about ten miles to the east and coming in fast,” Mist said. “We’re trying to make it to the Vanhoover Atoll as quick as possible. How are the rest of the crew?”

“Princess Twilight has them all in the lounge. It’s keeping them out of the inclement weather but it’s an easy escape if Twilight needs to blast a hole and magic us out of here.”

“Shouldn’t need to,” the Captain said. “The atoll isn’t too far. Mist, are we on the right track?”

“Yes, Captain. Keep heading north-by-northwest. We should reach the atoll in a few minutes. Siren Song, do you know if you can secure the anchors in this weather?”

Siren Song looked almost frightened for a moment, but quickly recomposed himself. “Of course.” But he muttered something under his breath that he wasn’t willing to repeat even when Mist prodded him.

Siren Song remained in the Captain’s Cabin until they reached the entrance of the small ring of islands that was the Vanhoover Atoll. Mist quickly found the island the Vanhoover Port had recommended and directed the Captain to it. The sky was now covered in grey clouds and a petulant rain was hitting hard and fast as Siren Song left the cabin and jumped overboard into the ocean. The Captain radioed the lifeguard to standby at the deck to let the unicorn in once he’d secured the anchors, which he dropped right afterwards.

It wasn’t long before Siren Song was back, dripping wet with a towel around his neck. The boat was now partially sheltered by the island and its fifty-foot tall hill and the anchors kept the boat mostly in place. There was still some rocking as the ship swayed and lurched in place, but the frigate held fast as Mist made his return call to the Vanhoover Port.

“No idea how long this will last,” Vanhoover Port replied on receiving Mist’s message. “Bunker down for now. If you’re secured and in the shelter of the atoll, you should be in good shape. Hopefully it breaks by tomorrow morning early, over.”

“Alright. Thanks, VP. We’ll keep you posted. Expect a message tomorrow morning, over.”

“Good luck and stay safe, 001. Vanhoover Port, over and out.”

There was nothing to say and little to do. With the advice of Twilight Sparkle, blankets and pillows were brought into the lounge room and the guards quickly helped sort out the area so that all 16 ponies were arranged in the room to sleep. Afraid of turning on the grill, the chef quickly assembled more sandwiches and all the ponies had a tentative meal though went to bed feeling uncomfortable.

Mist took his blanket and pillow and found Siren Song looking mildly alert but otherwise the only other pony truly calm other than Twilight Sparkle. Siren Song himself waved Mist over, and the two lay near each other in an almost private corner of the lounge room as the ponies settled in and attempted to get some sleep.

“You’re not scared?” Mist asked.

Siren Song looked out the window at the darkening clouds and flashes of lightning around the atoll. “It is only a storm. It will pass.” He said this with such certainty that Mist almost immediately felt better. “But your fear hides courage,” he commented when he looked at Mist again. “For one who has experienced such things before, you are not as scared as I would have thought you would be.”

“So I am,” Mist said. “But it is strange. The circumstances are very similar to what happened that night. I dread it happening again, and it’s all I can do to not scream in panic.”

Siren Song shifted so that he was lying down right next to Mist. He put a hoof around the grey earth pony; it had the same sort of possessive quality as before, but there was also a feeling of protectiveness to it. “I promise you won’t go through that again,” the purple-and-aqua unicorn said softly, gently nuzzling the top of Mist’s head. “Relax, Mist, and go to sleep. I promise it will be over tomorrow…”

Siren Song kept quietly shushing Mist as the ponies drifted off one by one. Afterwards, Mist thought he was one of the last ones awake, only beaten by Siren Song, whose quiet and calming reassurances kept coming until long after he had drifted off to sleep.

Misty Skies and Hurricane quickly went down the stairs to the main hallway of the S.S. Dreamweaver. A huge wave rocked the boat and Mist found himself falling head over heels down the last part of the steps, and Hurricane weaved like a drunkard and smashed into the wall. The two picked themselves up.

“We’ve got to find Gunport now before this thing manages to get even worse!” Hurricane said. “Where’s the cannon area!?”

“I think it’s just down this hall and down the stairs,” Mist said. “Come on; we should be somewhat safe in here from those monsters.”

The two carefully picked their way down the hall, bracing themselves whenever a new wave came to rock the boat. Mist quickly found a directory for the ship and found his sense of direction was still good; they kept heading in the direction Mist had said earlier.

Mist and Hurricane talked swiftly as they went down the corridor, and came up with a solution. They needed to get to a lifeboat as quick as possible to keep their energy and prevent them from being in the worst of the storm’s winds. If that failed, Hurricane could fly swift enough to stay relatively steady, while Gunport’s size and strength made him able to possibly carry Mist and remain unhindered by the winds.

They found the stairs to the cannon room and went down. The door was heavy and difficult to push in; Hurricane had come before and didn’t find it so heavy as it felt now. Even Mist’s earth pony strength was barely enough to start pushing it in, and it wasn’t long after that before a trickle of water came through the crack in the door.

“The cannon room’s flooding!” Hurricane shouted. “Come on, we’ve got to get Gunport out of there!”

The two heaved and pushed and finally got the door to open. Mist quickly found an iron bar and wedged it between the door and the wall so it wouldn’t close on anypony and they searched the cannon area for Gunport.

The cannon deck was comprised of six holes, three to either side of the ship. Each had a cannon and a container of cannonballs at the ready. Every once in a while there was a shout and a boom as a cannon fired, but the screaming and thunder and roaring waves from outside managed to drown most of it out.

“Gunport!” Hurricane called out as they entered. “Gunport! Where are you!?”

“Hurricane!” The large red pegasus was getting thrashed about amidst cannon fire and the rolling of the ship, yet still slowly made his way towards them. “Hurricane! Mist! What’s going on?”

“Something’s attacking ponies on-board the ship,” Mist said. “And this storm came up out of nowhere! We have to get off the ship before it crashes!”

“I’m all for it. We’ve had to beat one of those things back already. Cannonball Run lost an arm and we’re not sure he’s gonna make it.”

“Come on, Gunport!” Hurricane said, panicking. “We need to get out of here!”

“Creature at four o’clock!” one of the cannon ponies shouted. “Open fire!”

A ball was loaded, and the cannon fired. But the monster seemed to have realized it was being aimed at and jumped just under the hole for the cannon, using a hoof to push it to the side.

The cannonball launched into the side of the ship and exploded. One pony was killed in the explosion and had a chunk torn out from his back, the other got knocked back and crushed against the opposite wall from the cannon’s rebound – if he wasn’t dead, he had a severe concussion and wasn’t likely to survive. Shrapnel flew everywhere and hit many more ponies.

Mist and Hurricane ducked behind the door and were saved from the shrapnel and explosion. But then a piercing scream rang out that caused Hurricane to go into hysterics; Gunport was screaming bloody murder. The two ducked back into the room and quickly saw Gunport’s left wing was bleeding and bent out of shape, a small piece of metal sticking out of his wing and another in his right hind leg.

“Gunport!” Hurricane screamed. She and Mist ran over to him and began pulling him through the now empty middle of the cannon deck. They got him through the door and up the stairs into the hall before quickly pulling the metal shrapnel out of his wing and leg, wounds red and puffy and, while not that deep, enough to cause serious damage and for Gunport to scream out even more in pain.

Hurricane managed to control her hysterics before they went to a nearby room and found a spare, unused sheet and scissors. Mist cut two decent lengths of the cloth and they set to work binding Gunport’s wing to his side and covering the wound, while the leg was wrapped up firmly. Gunport began taking a few deep breaths and his screams subsided to whimpering every once in a while.

“Well, there goes the plan B,” Mist said. “We need to get upstairs and find a lifeboat, now.”

Gunport took a few deep breaths. “We should be able to get at least one,” he said. “I haven’t heard any drop into the ocean, nor have I seen anypony get off the ship. Come on. I think I can walk, but not without help.”

Hurricane dropped the hysterics completely and rushed over to help Gunport. She squeezed under his good wing and Gunport clung onto her as best as he could. Mist took the other side to help steady and provide a buffer, and the three started going back down the hall towards the staircase for the main deck.

Misty Skies was startled into waking, but didn’t bolt upright or scream out, despite more of his strange nightmare and visions of the past plaguing his dreams. He merely lay silently on the floor of the lounge room, listening, and wondering why he awoke and what specifically had woken him.

Even in the dim light of the lounge room, Mist quite quickly and clearly realized the situation had changed substantially from the previous night. There was a soft moonlight, for one thing, which meant the clouds had cleared away; this also explained the lack of rain pounding on the ship’s cabin and hull. The boat hardly moved and there was no more howling wind. The storm had passed.

His sleeping companion was gone, too. Siren Song wasn’t around, and nor was he anywhere in the room when Mist checked for his more aqua mane. Mist wondered if he was off checking the samples in the storage deck, and shrugged off his disappearance.

He did need to go to the bathroom, though. Mist stood up and quietly left the lounge room, noticing not another soul was awake. Even when he passed by the two night guards at the door to the main corridor, he noticed both of them looked like they were asleep standing up. Mist slipped out of the lounge room and closed the door quietly behind him, hoping no one would notice his disappearance so soon.

The ship no longer creaked and moaned, and the only sound as Mist travelled down the corridor to the bathroom was that of his own hoofsteps. A few token lights were on in the hallway in case anypony needed the bathroom, but otherwise it was dark and quiet.

Mist took a leak and walked back out into the corridor. He had half a mind to go look for Siren Song and see what he was doing and why at this late hour was he not asleep. Or perhaps he had fallen asleep in the cargo bay. Mist quietly opened up the door to the deck and looked outside.

It was cooler than at the reef but without the breeze blowing it was rather comfortable. The moon, hidden on the opposite side of the lounge room, shone a little brighter and gave the ship a rather ethereal glow, especially on the rather reflective white hull and cabin. Mist could see the ring of islands around the atoll, covered in pine and juniper and ferns, and could almost see the white sands in the shallow area where they had anchored. They were safe and sound; relieved, Mist walked over to the door leading to the storage bay at the back end of the frigate and reached to open it.

He was stopped by a sound. It sounded like a soft singing, but at that point he couldn’t understand the words and so came out as a very tuneful humming noise. Mist turned around from the storage bay entrance and flicked his ears around. It came from the front of the boat, and Mist decided to see what it was.

Mist walked so gently, guided by the sound, that his own hooffalls barely made any noise. He crept up quietly around the right side of the boat and came to where the front was with the pavilion.

Siren Song was sitting at the very front of the boat, his hind end resting on the protective railing surrounding the deck. The moonlight seemed to be doing odd things to his coat, giving it black and white lines amidst the purple that looked like a clownfish, and it looked like he had his legs covered with a sort of blanket. He also looked completely unaware of Mist’s presence, singing upwards to the moon like a wolf howling and having his eyes almost constantly closed.

Mist, his eyes wide in astonishment and gaping at the sight, approached a little further. The closer he got, the clearer the unicorn’s singing became, and the more he could understand what was being said. Much like before, he sang in a slow and beautiful voice, but this time it was less mournful and more plaintive.

My heart yearns for the one who understands;
Who will go with me through these distant lands.
I look for the one who answers my call,
Yet I’m the one who has taken the fall.

My live is lived between the land and sea;
Both dear to my heart, and both calling me.
I am drawn to the ocean’s calming tides
But on land is where my focus resides.

Oh, please, come away, and be one with me!
My heart is now thine, forever with thee!
But to take you from home won’t do you good.
I cannot ask you, though I know you would.

My heart is trapped in a prison it made;
I intended to sway, but for you I have strayed.

“…is that another folk legend?” Mist found himself speaking before he could stop himself.

Siren Song, who had opened his mouth as though to sing more, opened his eyes wide and looked around. He noticed Mist, staring in awe at him a few paces away, and smiled, hopping off the deck looking like the normal purple-and-aqua unicorn Mist knew.

“Not exactly,” he said. “It is a love ballad from long ago.”

“What were you doing singing a love ballad on the bow of the ship in the middle of the night?”

“I woke up and found the storm gone. I went to take a look outside and saw the moon and… I don’t know. I guess I felt happy.”

“…you didn’t exactly sound happy. It wasn’t quite so mournful as your other song, but you weren’t exactly bouncing along as you sang it, either.”

Siren Song shrugged. “Perhaps not. But it is a favorite of mine and came to my head easily. Speaking of which, what are you doing awake? You were quite deeply asleep when I woke up.”

“I had another nightmare, about the ship. I came out for some fresh air, and upon finding you missing and the weather calm, wondered if you were in the storage bay making sure the tanks were okay.”

“We did that yesterday evening when we noticed the storm kicking up before you made for the atoll. They are secure.” Siren Song’s voice and face changed to one of gentle concern. “And… aren’t you sure you don’t have PTSD? Having nightmares about the wreck in similar circumstances as that event and all that?”

“I should hope not. Perhaps I do, but I felt safe last night. Safer than…”

Mist realized he was going too far and trailed off. Perhaps Gunport was right and he was falling in love because Siren Song had saved him. It certainly fit the feelings he was having now about being calmed and reassured by Siren Song about the storm the previous night even while on the verge of panic.

And yet that did not excuse the way the stallion paid attention to him, the way he showed him care, the way he seemed so enthusiastic whenever Mist showed interest, and his own interest in Mist himself. There was something inside Mist that said he wanted to know the unicorn better and was willing to let himself become vulnerable around him. …something that made him want to think the ballad had been sung just for him.

“…than what?” Siren Song asked.

Mist could scarcely hear himself breathe as he looked at the handsome face and into the gentle aqua eyes. “Never mind. But… I want to know more about you, Siren Song. I want to know more than just about the research. I want to know what you like, what you do, who you are. I have caught glimpses of it here and there, and I am willing to follow those glimpses down to the depths in hopes of finding what lies beneath.”

Siren Song, for once, was startled to speechlessness.

“You saved me, Siren Song,” Mist continued. “I want to know why you did, and why you came back when you could have disappeared into the great unknown and never done it again. And I want to know why I feel so happy that you did come back.”

For a long time, Siren Song didn’t say a word. But after some time, he finally leaned down and kissed Mist on his lips. It was short and almost felt wet, but it was warm and soothing, and when he pulled away he gave Mist a gentle, embracing, almost seductive smile.

“I would like to know more about you, too, Misty Skies,” he said. “And I will tell you all of that in time.”

Siren Song walked by Mist, slowly and with great emphasis on shaking his hips at Mist. He picked up a hoof and gently stroked Mist’s back almost to his rump.

“We could start tonight,” he said. “We are awake, and we have the rest of the night ahead of us.”

And without saying a word, Mist followed Siren Song back inside, past the lounge room where the rest of the ponies were sleeping, and into their cabin.