Burnt Brick snapped awake.

He yelped. “What happened? It wasn’t me!”

“Dear, it seems you had an unfortunate stumble,” Lady Martha answered, not looking at him.

“Did that stumble happen to include me falling face first into Hammerhead’s right hoof?” Brick grumbled.

His jaw ached, and the taste of copper lingered in his mouth. For a moment, the events leading up to the punch felt hazy—then reality crashed back. Right. He’d pushed too far. Way too far.

Brick caught Hammerhead’s eye across the chart room. The captain’s expression was unreadable, but the subtle nod he gave seemed to say ‘later.’ Fair enough.

Standing up with as much dignity as he could muster, Brick turned his attention back to their immediate crisis. Personal grievances would have to wait—they still had a ship to save.

As the throb in Brick’s head receded, the sounds of the Audacity enveloped him.

The ship’s frame creaked and groaned, straining against the high-altitude winds. It was a sound that reminded him of old buildings—structures pushed to their limits by time and the elements. Each vibration sent a jolt of pain through him.

Beneath the ship’s protests, there was another sound—a deep rumble that he felt more than heard. It was the storm below them, its fury muffled by distance, but still palpable. Occasional booms of thunder, loud enough to penetrate the Audacity’s hull, punctuated the constant rumble.

“What’s our status?”

Lady Martha answered first.

“We have leveled out at altitude. Strong gusts are still hitting us, but nothing catastrophic.”

“Good. What does the time say?”

Clear Melody answered that one.

“We are twenty minutes into the storm.”

“I see. Everything ready for operation ‘Melody-vents-the-gas-and-doesn’t-conk-out?’”

“Ready when you are,” Melody said.

Her winter gear—a complex arrangement of insulated fabric and straps that made her look more like a carefully wrapped package than a pegasus—concealed any facial expression. However, she was planted firmly on the deck and her voice didn’t waver. She was ready for this.

Right?

“Martha, I want you to double check Melody’s gear, especially those wing covers. I want no exposed fur anywhere.”

The aeronaut’s wing covers were an ingenious piece of technology. They protected against cold and all kinds of environmental hazards. A pegasus couldn’t fly while wearing them, but they could still use their wings for stabilization.

“Aye, Captain, checking everything again.”

Brick nodded. “Melody, I want you to go over the plan one more time, every detail.”

Before she could say anything, he turned to Hammerhead.

“Hammerhoof, I want you to go look for your sense of humor. Gotta be around here somewhere.

“What are we waiting for? Go!”

Lady Martha fussed over Melody’s gear with maternal precision, tugging at straps and adjusting seals. Hammerhead didn’t move an inch. Meanwhile, the young pegasus began reciting the plan.

“We will use the passageway as an airlock.”

She took a long breath.

“Once I’m outside, it’s only three strides to the helm. I will angle my wings so that I won’t get blown away. I will find the lift gas controls and vent exactly nine percent of our gas.”

Another long breath, just a bit sharper this time.

“I will make it back to the passageway and close the door as well as I can. Then, I will knock on this door. You will let me in. If you don’t hear a knock in five minutes, Captain Hammerhead will get me.”

With a final pat to Melody’s goggles and a reassuring smile, Martha finished her checks. Brick’s eyes darted to the clock. No more delays.

“Alright, ladies, it’s time.”

He broke the insulation of the door. This was it. This was his final chance to stop her. Brick wondered at which point he’d do exactly that. He watched himself pulling the door open. Watched himself patting Clear Melody on the back. Watched her trot to the door. Surely, now would be the time to do it.

Yet he didn’t.

Brick saw Melody take one last look at the team before she stepped into the passageway. Seeing the door close filled his heart with pain. He wouldn’t lose her too. He couldn’t. It would be fine.

Brick knew Melody was about to open the hatch they had installed on the outer door to let the air escape. Otherwise, it would've been impossible for her to pull open that door.

The wood groaned anew as the air pressure equalized—Clear Melody had opened the hatch. The sound sent a chill through the chart room that had nothing to do with the temperature.

None of them spoke. Brick’s eyes were locked on the clock’s lazy sweep, each tick an eternity.

One minute. The anxiety made his legs feel wobbly.

Two minutes. Burnt Brick’s heart hammered against his ribs.

Three minutes and thirty-four seconds—the airship lurched forward with a shudder. She’d reached the controls. The gas was venting.

Four minutes. She should be heading back now. Brick’s hooves itched to move.

Four minutes and twenty seconds. The outer door should be sealed. Where was the sound?

Four minutes and forty seconds. Any moment now. The knock had to come. Had to.

Five minutes. Nothing but the hollow whisper of wind.

Brick’s body moved before his mind could catch up. Together with Martha and Hammerhead, he ripped open the door. In a flash, Hammerhead had launched himself into the gangway. Brick had prayed they wouldn’t need to do this.

The air in the chart room was sucked outside with a deafening roar and the door smashed shut. He could already feel that the air was getting colder. Colder and thinner.

Nothing he could do about it. Except wait. Wait, again.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Use as little oxygen as possible. Slow breaths. No thoughts.

Don’t think about Melody fighting for her life outside. Don’t think about her gasping for air that wouldn’t give her oxygen. Don’t think about that burning building. Don’t think about Sketch…

The door to the chart room exploded inwards.

Hammerhead stumbled inside, Clear Melody on his back.

The escaping air made the door snap shut behind them. Brick and Martha feverishly started to reapply the insulation to save whatever air they still had left.

Brick caught glimpses of Hammerhead in his peripheral view. The captain’s movements were uncharacteristically gentle as he laid Clear Melody onto the deck, his usual roughness giving way to something almost tender. The moment she was safely down, his own strength failed him. The mighty pegasus crumpled beside her like a puppet with cut strings.

A shrill whistling sound yanked Brick’s attention back to the door. Somewhere, air was escaping. He exchanged a glance with Martha. No need for words. They couldn’t fix it. He knew it. She knew it.

A race, then. The Audacity’s descent speed against their depleting oxygen.

Burnt Brick stumbled towards Clear Melody’s still form. The edges of his vision were already creeping in, but he had to reach her. Had to protect her. She looked so small, curled up there.

“Quick Sketch?” The words came out slurred. Why was Quick Sketch sleeping on the job? She never slept on the job. And why was it so chilly in the office?

He moved in closer, trying to shield her from the biting cold with his own body. Something wasn’t right. The mane was wrong. Not Quick Sketch’s mane. But who...?

And who was that blue pony beside her? He looked so dumb.

“'S okay,” he mumbled, thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. “Got you this time. Not gonna... not gonna let them...”

The pony before him was breathing—quick, shallow breaths. That was important. Why was it important? He couldn’t remember. Everything was getting so fuzzy.

Melody. That was her name. No. Quick Sketch? Both? His brain felt like cotton wool.

“Not losing...” The rest of the sentence dissolved into the darkness as consciousness slipped away.

“Please tell me I’m dead,” Burnt Brick groaned, keeping his eyes closed.

“It worked, Mr. Brick! We flew over the storm!” Melody chirped.

That sound was like balm on his soul.

Finally opening his eyes, Brick surveyed the scene. The room looked like a storm had swept through it.

Probably because that’s exactly what had happened.

Hammerhead and Melody had already started to clean up the mess. Damned pegasus lungs. Lady Martha was still laying on the deck, her chest rising and falling rhythmically.

“That’s great, kid. Proud of ya. What’s the situation?”

Her head dropped. Melody’s toe scratched the deck and she blushed slightly.

“I might’ve vented just a teeny tiny bit too much of the lift gas.”

Before Brick could react, Hammerhead cut in.

“Nothing she could’ve done. Damn gas controls got stuck. Rain froze in there.” The captain pointed at her. “Poor girl ran out of air just after she got the controls working again. Good thing too, otherwise we would’ve lost all the gas.”

An image flashed through Brick’s mind: the Audacity plummeting from the sky, her balloon empty, crystal-studded hull shattering against the ground like a dropped mirror. He shook his head sharply. They had enough real problems.

“How much gas do we have left?”

Clear Melody dropped her head even lower.

“I’ve made some quick calculations. Even if we drop all the ballast, we won’t be able to clear the Crystal Mountains.”

Suddenly, Martha spoke up from behind him. She sounded tired, but he could hear that she was smiling at the same time.

“We might not need to. There’s a passage. A gap in the Crystal Mountains that we can pass through.”

Brick scratched his chin. “But that’s not the path set by the navigational spells.”

As soon as he said it, Hammerhead and Melody exchanged a glance. He didn’t like that glance. Not one bit.

“Actually…” Melody started.

“The storm knocked us out of our navigational lock. We have no idea where we are,” Hammerhead finished for her.

Right.

“Lady Martha, I know you have talents in navigation. Could you be so kind and please try to figure out where the fuck we are?”

“So polite, yet so rude.” She clicked her tongue, tilting her head to the side. “Aye, Captain. But until the stars show themselves, the best a lady can do is ‘North.’”

“‘North’ should be good enough for now. Do you think you can find the passage with the help of the stars?”

“I’m not certain, my dear. But do we have another choice than to try?”

“Guess not.”

“Well then, I suppose I likewise have no other choice than to find it. Do I?”

“Guess not. Any other looming catastrophe I should know about?”

Brick had said it as a joke, but there was that glance between Hammerhead and Melody again. That cursed glance that seemed to ask, ‘Are you going to tell him, or should I?’

Apparently, it was Melody’s turn. She scratched off the last bit of polish that remained on the abused boards below her.

“You remember those overflow batteries we activated to stabilize the crystals?”

“Yeah…?”

“You remember when I said that if we activate them without the rest of the system, they might break?”

“Yeah…”

“They broke.”

The bulkhead protested as Brick smashed his head against it.

Why. Smash. Must. Smash. Everything. Smash. Always. Smash. Break.

It helped, if only just a little. Brick gathered himself.

“Sorry folks. Needed to quickly test the structural integrity of the hull after the storm. Everything seems in order.” He ran a hoof over his mane. “Any chance we can repair them or do without?”

Melody smiled at him. That damned smile.

“I’m not sure about repairing them, but we had spares anyway. The system might be slightly less stable, but I made sure not to activate more than we could afford to lose.”

Her eyes darted away. “We just need to make sure not to break any more of them.”

The last rays of sunlight painted the sky in hues of orange and pink as the Audacity glided smoothly through the evening air. The storm that had nearly claimed their lives was now nothing more than a distant, dark smudge on the horizon. On the deck, the crew gathered around a makeshift table. The gentle creaking of the ship’s frame was a soothing counterpoint to the earlier chaos.

Burnt Brick surveyed his team as they settled in for their meal. Clear Melody’s mane was still windswept. Lady Martha’s usually immaculate coat bore smudges of grease and dirt. Only Hammerhead’s stoic demeanor seemed unchanged.

Brick pointed first at Hammerhead and then at the bowl of oats before him.

“Damn, my oversized friend. Your food,” he said while chewing heartily. “It really sucks. Seriously. How do you screw up oats?”

After a few seconds, the whole team laughed. Well, Martha, Melody and Brick laughed. Hammerhead emitted a grunt that could’ve been interpreted in a lot of ways, really. Brick chose to interpret it as a laugh.

“Well,” Brick said, raising a tin mug filled with hot cider, “I’d say we've earned this.”

The others raised their mugs in agreement, the clink of metal on metal a cheerful sound in the crisp air.

Melody took a long sip before speaking. “I... I want to thank you all. For trusting me out there. And for coming to get me.”

Martha reached out, placing a hoof gently on Melody’s shoulder. “You were incredibly brave, dear. You risked your life. We couldn’t have made it without you.”

Hammerhead grunted again. “Kid’s got guts,” he admitted.

Brick wondered if that was the first compliment he’d ever heard from the veteran.

As evening turned into a cloudless night, stars began to glimmer in the darkening sky. Though exhaustion tugged at his limbs and his jaw still throbbed, Burnt Brick knew sleep would have to wait. They needed those stars—without them, they were flying blind.

Lady Martha had turned the chart room back to its intended use. Maps and star charts covered every surface, held down by whatever they could find. Her usually immaculate mane was disheveled as she darted between the room and the bridge outside, muttering calculations under her breath.

“Miss Melody, dear, I require your assistance,” Martha called out. “Find me Polaris, then trace the path to Cassiopeia.”

The young pegasus hovered over the bridge, her white coat almost luminescent against the night sky. “There!” she pointed with a wing. “And Cassiopeia is... wait, yes! Just above the horizon.”

Hammerhead stood at the helm, making minute adjustments based on Martha’s commands. His gaze seemed to pierce the darkness as he kept the Audacity steady.

“Three degrees port,” Martha instructed, her cultured voice clipped with concentration. “Now hold her there.”

Burnt Brick served as a living compass, trotting between port and starboard to confirm their bearing. His construction experience with alignment and angles had found an unexpected use.

“That cluster there,” Martha muttered, jabbing her hoof at a particular configuration on her chart. “If we are where I think we are...” Her eyes darted between sky and parchment.

“Got something?” Brick asked, trying to mask his concern with casual interest.

“Maybe.” Martha tapped her chin. “The stars suggest we’re about forty leagues northeast of where we should be. The storm threw us further off course than I feared.” She paused, then added with a slight smile, “But if I’m right, that actually works in our favor.”

“How so?” Hammerhead’s gruff voice carried from the helm.

“Because”—Martha’s smile widened—“we’re now perfectly positioned to catch the Galloping Current—an air current that flows right through the widest mountain pass in the entire range.”

Brick tilted his head. “Convenient. You’re sure about this?”

“My dear, I’ve spent many hours studying and traversing these routes. The pass is there—we just need to find it before dawn.”

“And if we don’t?”

Martha’s smile didn’t waver, but her expression hardened. “Then we find another way to get through those mountains.”

The next few hours passed in a tired blur of calculations and course corrections. Brick’s joints ached from trotting between observation points. Even Hammerhead’s steel composure showed signs of wear. Martha actually seemed energized by the challenge, but the occasional tremor in her voice betrayed her exhaustion.

Finally, she stepped back from her charts with a satisfied nod. “There. We’re locked into the approach.” She traced a line across the largest wall map with her hoof. “That should keep us on course until dawn,” she concluded, marking their trajectory with decisive strokes.

“Just keep the North Star over the port bow at this angle.” She stifled a yawn. “Simple enough that even you two can’t mess it up.”

“Get some rest,” Brick told her. “You’ll need your wits about you for that pass tomorrow.”

His eyes drifted to Clear Melody, who was barely keeping her head up. “You too, kid. You’ve earned it twice over.”

Melody started to protest, but a yawn cut her off. “I suppose... if you’re sure...”

“We’ve got this,” Brick assured her. “Go on.”

After the mare and jenny had left, silence settled over the bridge, broken only by the noises of wind and wood. Brick found himself studying the stars, deliberately avoiding looking at Hammerhead. The tension between them felt as solid as the deck they were standing on.

Finally, Hammerhead spoke, his voice low and measured. “About earlier—”

“You knocked me out cold,” Brick stated flatly.

“You insulted the princesses. You hurt Miss Melody.”

That second one stung. Ignore and suppress.

“I insulted everyone.” Brick’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “It’s kind of my thing.”

The captain shook his head. “Is that supposed to make it better?”

“No.” Brick sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Look, I get it. You're loyal to them. That’s your thing. But where I’m standing? They’re just another pair of powerful ponies who...” He caught himself, noting the dangerous glint in Hammerhead’s eye. “Who I have some strong opinions about.”

Hammerhead was quiet for a long moment. “Your partner. What happened?”

“Thought that was all in my file.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

Brick turned to face the captain fully. “You really want to know? Fine. Quick Sketch and me were expanding our business. Fast. Lots of old money in construction.” His voice hardened. “Next thing I know, there was a ‘construction flaw’ in one of our projects. Burned down while she was inside. Very convenient. Very clean. Case closed.”

“And you think the Guard—”

“I think a lot of things,” Brick said. “But mostly, I think we’ve got bigger problems right now than my trust issues or your patriotism.”

Another long silence. Then, surprisingly, Hammerhead chuckled. “Suppose you’re right about that.”

Brick raised an eyebrow. “Was that... was that actually a laugh?”

“Don’t get used to it.” Hammerhead adjusted their course slightly. “But listen—you keep those thoughts to yourself, and I’ll try not to knock you out again.”

“Even if I really deserve it?”

“Even then.” A pause. “Probably.”

Brick found himself grinning despite everything. “Deal.” He glanced at the stars. “Though I have to say, your princess did a nice job with the night sky. Really ties the whole ‘flying blindly towards certain death’ thing together.”

Hammerhead grunted.

The hours crawled by with excruciating slowness. Each minute felt like an eternity as Burnt Brick strained against the darkness, searching for any sign of the Crystal Mountains. Luna’s stars had been their guides through the night, but now they needed Celestia’s light more than ever.

“Timing’s going to be tight,” he muttered, more to keep himself awake than anything else.

Hammerhead nodded. “Melody’s calculations put sunrise just before we reach the mountains. Cutting it close to not waste time.”

“And if we’re off course we’ll see the solid wall of rock with just enough time to turn around and pray.”

The pre-dawn darkness played tricks on them. Every dark spot could be a mountain peak, every black patch of sky a valley. Brick found himself holding his breath at nothing more than cloud formations. He noticed Hammerhead’s grip on the helm growing tighter with each passing shadow.

Almost imperceptibly, the eastern sky began to lighten. First just a hint, a mere suggestion of color on the horizon. Then, a smidge of pale blue, pushing back the night’s deep indigo. Brick’s heart hammered as the light grew stronger.

When the first direct rays of sunlight crested the horizon, the world transformed. The Crystal Mountains erupted into brilliance, their surfaces catching and splitting the light into thousands of rainbow fragments. The effect was dazzling, almost blinding. And there, right where Martha’s calculations had promised, a deep cleft split the mountain range.

“Sweet Celestia’s morning tea,” Brick breathed.

“Language,” Hammerhead admonished, but his voice held the same awe.

At that moment, all the stress, pain and exhaustion of the last day fell off. It was just them, the mountains and that passage. That beautiful passage, inviting them to venture beyond.

Brick found himself caught up in a bone-crushing hug. He wasn’t sure who had initiated it, but Hammerhead’s wings wrapped around them both in celebration. It lasted approximately two seconds before they sprang apart.

Hammerhead was suddenly very interested in adjusting their heading while Brick developed an intense fascination with a random spot on the deck.

“I should, uh, probably wake Martha,” Brick suggested.

“Good idea.”

He found her curled up in her bunk, looking far more dignified in sleep than anyone had a right to. She was alert almost instantly at Brick’s touch.

“We found it?” she asked, already moving towards the bridge where Hammerhead was still steering the ship.

“It’s right where you said it would be,” Brick confirmed. “Though I’ve got to say, it looks... narrow.”

Martha’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, it’s narrow alright. And the wind currents through there will be absolutely dreadful.” She took the helm from Hammerhead. “You boys should get some rest. This next part... well, let’s just say you don’t want to be awake for it if you don’t have to be.”

With a grin, she added, “And your helmsjenny says you don’t.”

Brick opened his mouth to protest, but a massive yawn undercut any argument he might have made. Now that he had done his part, exhaustion hit him like a charging buffalo.

As he made his way to his bunk, the last thing he heard was Martha’s voice, humming an old sailing shanty as she guided their ship towards the passage. Whatever challenges lay ahead, they had to do without him until he’d had at least a few hours of sleep.

Author's Note

Special thanks to mellon for editing and proofreading