The Sky Above

The three of them stood together at the base of the airdocks, huddled against the chilly night air. Barely visible above them lay the Windrock, safely moored in her berth; the two sailors had tucked themselves safely aboard, leaving the three of them on their own.

“Would’ve been nice to let us stay with them til morning,” Rainbow grumbled, shooting a glare back at the ship. “Not like they’re leaving til then.”

“Be a bit close in there,” Squirrel countered, though her heart clearly wasn’t in it. “Would’ve been the floor for us.”

“It’s their ship to do with as they please,” Twilight pointed out. “We’ll find something here easily enough, I’m sure.”

“Yeah – it’s not like there’ll be many places to check before we’ve seen the whole town,” Rainbow nodded. Without even asking, she began shucking her weightier flank-satchels. “Mind if I scout things out? I can catch back up with you two once I find something.”

“It’s not much of a question if you’re just going to do it anyways,” Squirrel muttered; nevertheless, she stepped over to drape the satchels across her back.

“It’s polite!” Rainbow called as she took off in a run. With the slope as it was, it only took a few strides and a couple good pumps to get her airborne, the tips of the long, yellowy grasses tickling her fetlocks before she climbed above them.

The town opened up below her, looking much the same as when the ship had flown over earlier. A great, steep-sided mesa rose just to the west, its scree- and till-strewn slopes running nearly to the town itself, while just to the east ran a shallow river, its waters flowing fast to a great lake not far to the south. Trees and grassy plains ran in equal measure in all directions, dotted and cut-up with farms and orchards.

Weld itself looked like any other mining town. Rainbow could make out a fair few adits and shafts all along the cliffs, with rails running down to a modest riverside dock; the town itself was, otherwise, not a hundred buildings or so in size. What streetlamps it had were just starting to be lit as she finished her nice, slow circle.

“Square, there,” she muttered distractedly to herself, her thoughts already turning to the morrow – even now there were a couple of likely-looking airships hovering in their moorings, waiting til the morn to resupply or leave. “Too many floors for a house,” she carried on, gaze flicking over a stately-looking structure. After eying another spot or two, she started her descent; luckily, Twilight had her horn lit up as a minute beacon in the gloom.

“There she is.” Squirrel paused midstep, her head craned up at the evening sky. “She does blend in well, doesn’t she.”

“Her tail always betrays her,” Twilight said, horn aglow as it had been for the past few minutes. “The jacket doesn’t help, either.”

Squirrel hummed in agreement. She couldn’t help but find herself once again appreciating just how useful a winged companion was on these trips – odds were good she’d’ve been wandering around for the better part of an hour before finding somewhere to kip otherwise.

They stepped off the main path – just smooth, beaten dirt with the occasional wooden beam as a sort of step – and onto a flattened grassy bit. “Hopefully there’s food at the inn.”

“Mmhmm,” Twilight agreed. “Supplies are more than good enough, but a cooked dinner would definitely be nice.”

“Probably have some decent local drinks, too,” Squirrel continued. “Mead or cider or something.” She was cut off by Rainbow landing with a soft thump on the grass.

“Found a couple places, maybe,” Rainbow said, glancing questioningly between the two of them and the path forwards. “Let’s go?”

“You’re in a hurry,” Twilight said as they carried on down the path and into the town proper.

“Don’t know which one’s the inn, and the town’s more spread out than I thought – might take a while.”

Pleasantly for them it hadn’t, with the sky only just falling dark as they nosed open the door to their room. Crossing over to the window, Twilight pushed it open and poked her head out; before her lay what probably constituted the town plaza, simple and dusty though it was.

Rainbow’s voice piped up behind her. “Kinda wish we’d gotten to see the dragons.”

“They’d’ve eaten you,” Squirrel said, pointing out the rather obvious flaw to the plan.

Rainbow shrugged. “We’d’ve worked something out. Somehow.”

“‘Something’ as in hiding behind a boulder?”

“That’d help against the fire,” Twilight said, turning away from the view. “But once you’ve broken line-of-sight against something that flies, things’ve just gotten a whole lot worse for you.”

“I guess...” Squirrel admitted begrudgingly. “But dragons aside, are we really doing this? Going to Snowbound on a mad hunt for a magical rock, I mean.”

“Of course!”

“It’s called a sliver,” Twilight frowned. “And yes – I mean, why not? We can always get back again if things don’t work out.”

“Yeah!” Rainbow added, giving Squirrel a poke with her wing. “Don’t you want to go back, anyways? I’m pretty sure I remember you saying you knew people there.”

“Well, yes – I haven’t seen my parents in ages,” Squirrel shrugged, rubbing her arm awkwardly. “Just want to make sure you two don’t end up regretting the detour.”

Rainbow scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Have some faith, why don’t ya.”

“It’ll be fine,” Twilight assured her, giving her a nudge of her own. “There are plenty of ships leaving Snowbound for the main routes, right? Getting home won’t be an issue.”

“Yeah,” Squirrel nodded. “Yeah.”

“Is it the fam?” Rainbow asked, ears perked in curiosity. “We can avoid them if we need to, can’t we?”

Squirrel snorted, a much more relaxed smile on her face. “No, no – it’s not that; the opposite, really – every time I visit, they try real hard to convince me to stay. Once they find out I’m between jobs, there’s no way they won’t try all the harder.”

“How awful,” Twilight drawled.

“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed. “Imagine that – we wouldn’t even have to go all the way to Wonderbum if you just stayed there with your folks.”

“It’s ‘Wanderbelle,’” Squirrel said with an exasperated sigh. “And all my stuff is there, anyways, so I’d have to go back at least once.”

“Shoot.”

Squirrel gave her a playful shove. “Right – we getting something to eat, or what?”

Twilight awoke to the morning glow bleeding through the thin drapes. Despite the lack of any sort of heating in the inn, they hadn’t even needed the duvet – with all three of them jammed into a single bed, it’d been more than warm enough.

She rolled out from under the thin covers and off into the onsuite – it was a pleasant surprise yesterday to find the room even had one – but the others were still barely awake when she stepped back into the room.

“Up!” Twilight commanded. “Roust! Arise! We’re wasting daylight.”

“Mmph,” Rainbow moaned as she wiggled about. Squirrel, on the other hoof, was a great deal faster, already crawling out of bed to quickly splash some water on her face.

Although it took a little more poking to get Rainbow up, it was still barely a quarter-hour later that found them stepping back onto the street.

“Well that was nice,” Twilight said conversationally as they started back up the hill to the docks. “Cozy, at any rate.”

“Quaint, yes,” Squirrel agreed, smiling coyly.

Twilight chuffed. “Yes – definitely. Still, uhh, a bit too quiet for my tastes, I think.”

“Too sleepy for me, too, if it comes to that.”

“Wanderbelle’s much bigger?”

“Denser, certainly – loads of traffic moving through it too, so it feels way bigger.”

Twilight nodded along. “Makes sense. Sweet Apples it much the same way, really – tiny population, but all the through-traffic makes it feel busier.”

At some point during the night another much larger airship had moored itself some ways from the main docks – so much so that she was held in place low to the ground via mighty anchors, their thick rodes visible even from afar, rather than in any manner of scaffolding.

“Worth a try?” Rainbow asked, gesturing towards the multi-balloon dirigible.

“Might be the only one,” Squirrel said as she cast her gaze at the trio of smaller ones in the dock. “Those other two look more like pleasure-craft than the kind of thing we’re looking for.”

“We should still check them out first,” Twilight said, steering them towards the main stairwell at the base of the airdock. “That large one’s not going anywhere for a while, I’ll bet.”

Unfortunately, Squirrel had been right. “Well that sucks,” Rainbow grumbled as she hopped off the second ship and back onto the dock. She fidgeted in place as the other two crossed the slow way, already eager to try out the dirigible.

“Told ya.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow continued to grumble. “Can’t believe anybody would want to actually stay here.”

“Could be a decent vacation spot for some,” Squirrel countered, spinning slowly in place as she took in the scenery around them. “Pretty good views, and the grassland’s not too thick for walking.”

“‘Too thick for walking’?” Rainbow scoffed. “How the heck can grass be too thick for walking?”

“Well, you know,” Squirrel said, waving a hoof airily. “Too thick. All the stems poke you in the barrel and get in the way and you have to push your way through.”

“That would be ‘too dense,’” Twilight corrected her as she led the way back down the nearest stairwell. “Maybe by ‘thick’ you meant ‘thicket’?”

“Sure,” Squirrel nodded. “Let’s go with that.”

“Easy bailout,” Rainbow muttered. A faint breeze picked up, rustling her mane and tail; the day was looking to be a clear one, as what few clouds there were were visibly blowing away east.

They reached the bottom, pausing for a moment to reorient themselves before picking a path that looked like it’d probably reach the dirigible – what with the scattering of workshops and warehouses around them, they’d lost sight of it.

“What’re the odds it won’t suck?” Rainbow asked, mostly because it was too quiet at this time in the morning. “The one we took from ‘Canum kinda felt like it was falling apart in places.”

“Most of the ships around here are kind of rickety,” Squirrel answered. “The important thing is they don’t actually plummet.”

“I’m hearing a ‘yes it’s gonna suck’ right now.”

Squirrel snorted. “You know this entire detour was optional, right? We could’ve quite possibly been on a comfy ship enroute to Wanderbelle as we speak.”

“Nah – I bet that ship would’ve sucked, too.”

While the other two bickered, Twilight found herself caught up in planning out their next steps. She knew the whole thing was a long shot, but she still didn’t want to blow the chance – no matter how slim – of actually getting her hooves on a sliver.

Getting to Snowbound was simplicity itself at this point, as was getting back onto the convoys; that was the beginning and ending neatly accounted for. The middle bit was going to be a mite tricky, however, as all they had to go on was that they were seeking a tom in the precious stone business. “Squirrel,” Twilight said, interrupting her and Rainbow. “How many lapidaries are there in Snowbound? Or any other dealers in rare stones, for that matter.”

“I... don’t know, exactly,” Squirrel admitted. “Not so many that we can’t track them all down in a day or two, I think – the city’s not that big.”

Twilight nodded contemplatively. “Doable, then.”

“We’d still need to buy it,” Rainbow grumbled. “Hate to think how much that’ll cost.”

“I’m really hoping we can get it for mostly free – remember, it’s a useless lump of almost-quartz to most.”

Squirrel didn’t look convinced. “You’d have to bank on them not knowing that, or they’ll charge you through the muzzle for it.”

Twilight was hoping to avoid that, even though she hadn’t quite worked out how just yet. “We’ll deal with that when it happens, I suppose.” Hardly her preferred way of handling things, but she was trying to put off fretting about that for as long as possible.

As they rounded the corner of a particularly weatherworn warehouse, the great dirigible hove back into view. The ship had a more traditional appearance to it, consisting of only a single massive balloon; the decks themselves either hung below it or ran along the sides all the way to the top, making the envelope look as though it were trapped within a wood and wire latticework of platforms and cabins.

“Well,” Twilight said, unable to keep the skepticism out of her voice. “It looks very... stout.”

Squirrel looked at her with some amusement. “If it’s held up this long, it’ll hold a little longer.”

“Probably.”

“Yes – thank you Rainbow – it’ll probably hold up a little longer.”

Twilight sighed, but couldn’t find it within herself to point out that if they ship did go down, Squirrel was the one that was really at risk. “Let’s just find a way up there and ask for passage.”

In the end there wasn’t any actual way to get up there; the ship had a few tenders to ferry people to the ground and back, but as none of them were present all they could do was pick a spot that looked like it’d be pretty visible to the crew above and plunk themselves down until someone noticed them.

“You sure they won’t just tear it up without even checking first?” Rainbow asked as they settled down in the lee of one of the great anchors – even on her hinds she was barely half as tall as it.

Squirrel shook her head, taking a seat on one of the iron links that lay next to it. “Can’t – see how the anchor line is just lying in the grass for a ways before it even begins arcing upwards?”

“It’d be weird if I couldn’t,” Rainbow drawled.

“Well,” Squirrel ploughed on. “The angle that they’d be weighing at is way too low – they’d have to fly right on top of it, just about, if they didn’t want to end up digging it further into the ground.”

It looked to Rainbow like they’d have to do more of a circular shuffle to heave up all four of the things, but she supposed that really just gave them even more time to be spotted.

Of course, she could also just fly on up and say hello, but given how rude that normally was, they’d agreed to try waiting first.

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Twilight said from where she was lying against her propped up panniers. “You’re safe to just head back to sleep in the meantime, if you like.”

While a part of Rainbow didn’t care for the typecasting, the other part was still sleepy. “Nap sounds good,” she said, heading for the nearest spot free of dew. If she was lucky the sun would be up and warming her before the crew noticed them – she really was tired.

A dull thrum from somewhere nearby woke Rainbow from her sleep. Sitting up and blinking blearily, she found that the sun had, indeed, risen at some point. Getting back to her hooves, she shook herself briskly before circling around to the far side of the anchor, where the sound seemed to be coming from.

The other two were already there and staring up at a slowly descending tender, itself looking like a large dinghy with two tube-like balloons on outriggers either side. The hum came from a small zephyric propeller jutting out the rear.

“Up, eh?” Squirrel said, favouring her with a small smile. “Although I can’t imagine you sleeping through this racket.”

“Not that tired,” Rainbow grunted.

“They don’t look annoyed, do they?” Twilight asked, shooting her a worried glance.

“Nah – we’re good.”

As the tender came close the noise cut off abruptly as they killed the motor and coasted slowly the rest of the way to the ground.

“Hello there!” Squirrel called, taking point once they were near. A pair of heads peaked over the side.

“What do you want?” a dark-feathered hen shouted to them. “And you’d better not’ve scratched our anchor!”

“I think they want a lift,” the mare next to her drawled, her voice just barely carrying down to them.

“That’s about right,” Squirrel said, seemingly unbothered by their brusqueness. “Up to Snowbound, if you’re headed that way.”

The hen gave them the gimlet eye as the tender drifted to an unsteady halt a few metres off the ground. “Sure we are; don’t know if the captain wants a couple of layabouts on board, though.”

“We don’t have much room right now,” the mare clarified as she looked down on them appraisingly. “We’re dead full on cargo – just stopping here to get the ‘trine charged back up.”

“We can pay,” Twilight called back up to them, frowning. “We’re not freeloaders.”

The hen grunted. “You want up, then? Can’t guarantee nothing, mind you.”

“That includes getting back down!” the mare added with a smirk.

“Unlikely,” Squirrel muttered, turning to face the other two. “You guys good to go up? I doubt they’re as hostile as they seem.”

“Probably just grumpy ‘cause it’s so dang early,” Rainbow mumbled as she nodded her assent.

Twilight hummed in agreement as they turned back to the dinghy. “Sounds good to us!” she called up.

The hen waved distractedly down to her before the two sailors’ heads disappeared from view; a few moments later the tender started to slowly descend the rest of the way to hover a couple feet above the ground, the tips of the long grasses just barely brushing the hull.

“‘Bout as low as we can get it,” the mare said, waving them over. “Come along, then.”

As it was easy enough to hop onboard at this height – even with their gear – Twilight quickly found herself settling in near the bow, Squirrel and Rainbow pressed in close beside her.

“So what’s bringing ya to Snowbound?” the mare asked curiously; behind her, the hen was fiddling with something – the prop, if Twilight had to guess. “Oh! I’m Emerald, by the way – that’s Rush.”

The hen grunted as she turned back to the wheel. With a stiff flick of a switch, the tender jerked momentarily beneath them before beginning to rise. “Nothing much,” Twilight hedged. “We’re just tourists.”

Rush scoffed, taking a moment to adjust a few of the tools in her mechanic’s vest before responding. “Tourists, eh? Joy.”

“Oh, don’t mind her,” Emerald said, waving her off with a tight smile. “She just thinks you’ll spend the entire trip complaining about the conditions.” She gave the three of them a pointed look.

Rainbow shrugged irreverently. “If we’ve a hammock or bunk or whatever, we’re good.”

“Hmm,” the mare frowned doubtfully. “You’ll still need to see the captain, either way.”

That seemed to be the extent of conversation the two of them were willing to entertain. The tender droned onwards, aiming for a particularly open series of platforms at the belly near the stern; somewhat ahead of that lay the main cargo hold – a wide and deep multi-leveled platform that roughly resembled the hull of a seafaring vessel.

“So...” Twilight began again, hoping to break the silence. “What kind of things do you transport, exactly?”

Rush just gave her an exasperated look and a shake of her head, but Emerald, at least, seemed willing to answer.

“Crates,” the steely-green mare said. “And barrels, occasionally.”

“That’s... what?” Twilight replied, nonplussed. “Crates and barrels?”

Emerald gave a put-upon sigh. “There’s stuff in them – ”

“Obviously,” Rush snorted.

“ – but if you’re not looking at the manifests? Crates and barrels.”

“Ah.” There didn’t seem to be much else to say to that.

The tender juddered as it bounced against the landing struts; Emerald tossed a line towards an awaiting stallion, the slack slapping Twilight in the muzzle. With an irritated huff, she hunkered down while the sailors finished getting them secured.

“All good?” Rainbow asked, giving her a little nudge.

Twilight nodded, hoping that things would pick up soon – thus far, this ship had hardly made a good first impression.

“Up you get, you three!” Rush gave a rough flap of her wings as she hopped out onto the narrow strut, the breeze from her wings ruffling the ponies’ manes. “No sense in dawdling.”

Quietly agreeing with her, Twilight followed, taking great care as she crossed the rounded outrigger-balloon. Stepping out onto the strut, she found herself little more at ease, as the platform was barely as wide across as she was. “Not much of a gangway,” she muttered.

“Saves on weight!” Rush boomed back at her from up ahead, where a little platform lay at the threshold of a worn wooden cabin. “That,” she added, bobbing her beak upwards at the envelope not more than a couple metres overhead, “has more important things to carry.”

Glancing back over her withers to check that the others were close behind, Twilight swiftly crossed over to the hen, taking care not to look down as she did. Rush clucked her tongue once she had, pulling open the door and disappearing into the dim interior without another word. “All good?” Twilight asked, eying Squirrel as she did.

“It’s fine,” Squirrel shrugged with forced nonchalance. “It’s not too windy, after all, and I’ve crossed things like that before.”

Twilight hummed, but left it alone – there was little point in undermining the mare. Squirrel squeezed past her, retaking the lead as they all went inside.

Once her eyes adjusted, Twilight found the room quite well-lit, with the starboard wall almost entirely composed of faintly-rattling windows. The rest of the room was utterly crowded, with everything from lines and fenders to ring-canisters and tool cabinets set hither and thither.

“Oi!” Rush called down to them from a narrow staircase nearly lost in the clutter. “Up here!”

“You don’t have to shout!” Rainbow called back to her. “We’re, like, ten feet away from you!”

“What!” the hen yelled back with a smirk. “I can’t hear you!”

Rainbow took a deep breath to – presumably – yell right back to her, but cut off abruptly with a poke from Squirrel. “That’s enough of that,” she grumbled.

Twilight spared them a glance before hurrying to catch up to Rush – by her reckoning, the sooner they found out if they could even barter passage at all, the better.

“What’s wrong with a bit of point-blank yelling?” Rainbow said behind her.

“I can’t believe you even have to ask that.”

The stairs were short and steep – Twilight found she needed to walk on her rears just to ascend; upon reaching the top, she found herself in a large room, bare struts and supports jutted out everywhere, while the ‘walls,’ such as they were, were made of canvas. There was a loud, omnipresent hum from the countless singers running all about, giving the air an electric taste.

The swish of a tail was all she saw of Rush, the hen already disappearing down a narrow corridor than ran along the inner skin. Checking again that the others were still with her, she crossed the room, weaving around the pipes and canisters that made up this part of the main celestine complex that was keeping them afloat.

“Always hate the smell of these things,” Squirrel said conversationally, her head tilted up at one of the ship’s many rigidity pumps.

“You get used to it,” Twilight said, shaking her head abruptly as she tried to get used to the much higher pressure inside the envelope. “All the mana does taste rather funny on the tongue, though, doesn’t it.”

The passage Rush had gone down ran right alongside the canvas; sunlight bled through – if only just – bathing everything in a dull, peachy glow.

“You ever think this is kinda dumb?” Rainbow piped up. “Like, being in a balloon, I mean.”

“It’s a distance thing,” Squirrel said, although Twilight could see she too looked skeptical. “Saves a huge amount on weight if you don’t need to build wooden walls and can just use canvas instead.”

“More aerodynamic than sailing ships, as well,” Twilight added. “Mind you, with all the extra building they’ve done around the outside, I can’t imagine that’s the case anymore.”

Squirrel nodded, glancing curiously down one of the many side-passages than ran port. “No kidding. Still, even with the positive-pressure arrays, the whole thing’s normally so much lighter that it’s worth it for super long distances.”

By this point they’d finally made it to the end – Twilight wouldn’t’ve been surprised if the corridor ran the entire length of the vessel – and found themselves in a pantry of sorts. Rush was leaning against a barrel of onions, waiting for them.

“Galley’s just below us,” the hen said, giving the floor a tap. “Mostly dry storage here; bunks are a little ways below.”

“Knew it!” Rainbow grinned, pushing past Twilight to begin poking around everything. “You need a cook? ‘Cause I can cook. Sorta.”

Twilight heaved a quiet sigh; she couldn’t read body language nearly as well as Rainbow could, but from the sounds of it, they’d be working this voyage.

“Nobody’ll say no to a good cook,” Rush shrugged. “We’ll find something for you other two to do. Still need to get the captain’s say-so, but we’re shorthanded enough I doubt he’ll say no.”

“Just need to meet them, then,” Rainbow agreed, looking inordinantly pleased with the situation.

On the bright side, it should only be for a couple of days.

The old tom scrutinized them as he leaned back in his rickety chair and nibbled at some jerky. Rush had taken them to a cabin right at the fore of the vessel, immediately connecting to the wide cockpit. Sunlight from the array of windows that ran around the adjacent room bled into the cramped captain’s cabin. What surfaces that weren’t covered in logbooks and furled admiralty charts were instead taken up by a small bed and desk.

The captain – Edgewise – grunted, tucking away his snack in a little pullout drawer before speaking. “I suppose we can handle another three hands on board,” he spoke in a comfortable drawl. “I’m sure Rush here has already told you that you’ll be working your fare? Little reason for you to just sit around idling the entire trip, I reason.”

Twilight hadn’t seen any problems with this – it’d help pass the time – and a quick discussion with the others along the way had made their own thoughts clear enough. “It sounds quite equitable,” Twilight confirmed, before deciding spur-of-the-moment to try for a little more. “I trust this means there’ll be no passage fee? It wouldn’t make much sense to work and have to pay.”

“Indeed,” Edgewise nodded, an easy smile on his beak. He sat back up abruptly and pulled open another drawer; after a moment’s shuffling he tugged out a thin booklet which he promptly opened up. “We’ll just need to find some jobs for you,” he began, drawing out a long, elegant-looking quill from its inkwell; that done, he cocked his head at them questioningly.

Rainbow shrugged. “Cook? Sounds like fun.”

Twilight shot a curious look at Squirrel – she was a cook, after all – but the mare didn’t seem bothered.

After a little back and forth they settled on Squirrel helping out with some issues with the cargo – apparently there’d been some sort of collapse that they were still cleaning up – while Twilight found herself stuck foalsitting the arcana. It was little later, then, that saw them once again trailing Rush through creaky corridors on a brief tour of the East Wind.

“Look at it this way,” Rainbow said, having noticed the glum expression on her face. “For all you know, they might have some sort of super-fancy enchanted thingies keeping us up – that could be neat.”

Twilight grunted. She wasn’t quite certain just what, exactly, she’d been expecting, but she’d been hoping for something less... predictable. “I suppose it could be nice seeing how they do things here,” she eventually admitted. “Although I doubt it’s any different from what I saw last time.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Ya know, Twi, if you tried a little harder you could probably have even less fun.”

“At least we’re saving money this way?” Squirrel tried.

“I know, I know,” Twilight sighed. “I’m not really grumpy – I just hate doing the stereotypical unicorn stuff, sometimes – that’s all.”

Rainbow snorted. “Yuh huh. Ya know, if you really want to do all the lifting and running around and stuff, you could try putting on some muscle.”

Squirrel coughed and tried poorly to hide her smile.

“I’ll have you know my body is perfectly capable of standard physical exertions,” Twilight said shortly, giving her a glare. “And I’ve got the charts to back that up.”

“Riiight,” Rainbow drawled, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure Jack could hold you down with one hoof if she wanted to.”

“Seeing as she’s an earth pony, I hardly see anything wrong with that,” Twilight countered primly.

“Pretty sure I could hold you down with one hoof – ”

“Oh look, we’re here!” Twilight exclaimed, bounding forwards the final few paces; they’d arrived at their bunkroom – a long, low cabin on the starboard side, lined with narrow double-bunks either side. Small portholes let in the afternoon light, all the better to illuminate the interminable clutter strewn all about the place.

Rush was waiting for them. “If you three are done gabbing, these ones – “ she jerked her head towards a facing pair of beds – “are yours. You can toss your gear any old place – thieves are tossed overboard, so no one’ll take anything.” She gave them a pointed look. “You remember where the galley is? Yes? Good. I’ve got some stuff to do – meet me there after the next bell and we’ll get you to work.” That said, she strode purposely past them and back the way they’d come.

“Well, that was just plain rude,” Twilight muttered.

“Just noticing that?” Rainbow said, having already leapt up onto one of the top bunks.

Twilight tossed her packs onto the bed right below her before nosing around for a locker. “I meant more than earlier.”

“Probably just annoyed about something; didn’t feel like it was us, though.”

Twilight hummed, taking Rainbow’s word for it. Giving up on her search for stowage, she instead rolled onto her bed and started wiggling around, testing its comfort.

“Yours any good?” Squirrel asked from across the aisle. Glancing over, Twilight saw that the mare’d already curled up near the foot of her bunk, clutching her pillow to her chest.

Twilight did her best to shrug. “Better than I’d thought, worse than I’d hoped?”

“‘Bout right,” Rainbow grumbled from above. “Hey Squirrel?”

“Hmm?”

“Any tips for cooking? Like, professionally? I don’t gotta wear an apron or anything, right?”

Squirrel shot her a bemused look. “How in the world is wearing an apron bad?”

“Looks dorky.”

Squirrel chuffed. “I’m afraid you will, in fact, have to look like a dork – at least a bit. You’ll probably get a little tea towel to tuck under the string as well.”

Though there was silence above her, Twilight could nevertheless imagine Rainbow’s disgruntled expression. “Any tips though?”

Squirrel seemed to mull that over for a few seconds before responding. “Just the one that’s of any use no matter what the kitchen is – if the head cook starts getting stressed and angry, keep your mouth shut, your head down, and work faster.”

The mattress shuffled again overhead. “Aww, you mean I can’t tease them?”

“Nooo,” Squirrel shook her head, smiling. “Cooks are crazy at the best of times – you’d probably get tossed out a porthole if you did.”

“Aren’t you a cook?” Twilight pointed out.

Squirrel waved her off. “I’m between jobs – doesn’t count.”

“But you were insane,” Rainbow pressed.

“Well yeah – obviously. I wouldn’t’ve agreed to take you two through the Green Leek if I wasn’t.”

Twilight squirmed into a comfier position. “She’s got us there, Dash.”

As the others continued chatting, Twilight set about thinking through all the possible arcana she could run into later; while she was pretty confident there wouldn’t be anything particularly new or complex – flight and pressure mechanisms should all function more-or-less the same way on every ship – she’d hate to look like just another unprepared tourist in over their head.

“Don’t nod off there, Twi.”

Twilight blinked, only now noticing Rainbow’s head poking down at her from above. “Just planning,” she insisted, though she sat up nevertheless. “Don’t want to mess anything up.”

“I wouldn’t really worry about it,” Squirrel said. “I think they’re all bluster – as long as we’re clearly trying to help, we’ve got our passage.”

Above her, Rainbow nodded along. “Yeah! Rush is probably just flustered cause she thinks you’re cute.”

“Wait!” Twilight jolted. “Really?”

Rainbow’s grin widened. “You really need to get better at reading gryphons, Twi.”

“That’s not an answer,” Twilight noted.

Rainbow just laughed, her head disappearing from sight.

“She’s just teasing, right?” Twilight said, casting a worried look over at Squirrel; unfortunately, the mare was of no help, her face buried in her pillow as she tried to contain her laughter. “You two are so annoying,” Twilight scowled, giving the bunk above a half-hearted kick.

“Yuh huuuh,” Rainbow drawled. “You know you’re blushing, right?”

She gave the bunk another kick. “You can’t even see me right now.”

“Squirrel?”

Squirrel snickered. “She totally is.”

“So annoying,” Twilight grumbled as she rolled over to face the hull.

It was little later that a dull gong sounded, echoing down the halls and into the bunkroom. Twilight sat up abruptly and hopped off the bed in one smooth motion, feeling about as prepared as she could hope for for whatever her work would entail. “You two ready?” she asked, glancing at the others.

Rainbow nodded, stifling a yawn as she jumped off her bunk.

“All good,” Squirrel affirmed. “You don’t, uhh... you don’t happen to remember where the galley is, though, do you? I might have forgotten.”

“Same,” Rainbow muttered.

Twilight rolled her eyes as she took the lead, trusting the others to keep close as she left the room.

The East Wind’s layout wasn’t all that complex – most of the space was given to the central hold, while the scattering of outbuildings lining the outer latticework were primarily concerned with the battery of props that would eventually get the ship moving; thus, virtually all of the cabins were in the balloon’s lower interior, with a few more spilling out around the hold.

This meant that in practice Twilight figured that there were really only four major corridors she needed to keep track of, with perhaps a dozen total rooms of consequence thereabouts. “The galley’s just in front of the hold,” she said once the three of them had paused for a moment, pushing themselves up against one side of the walkway to let a stallion and tom pass. Ignoring their curious stares, they carried on. “You really need to remember at least that much.”

“Right, right,” Rainbow agreed readily enough. They’d gone several more paces before she continued. “Sooo where’s the hold, then?”

Twilight took a bracing breath as she tried not to strangle her friend.

“Well you know that,” Squirrel grinned. “It’s behind the galley.”

“Ohhh, riiight. Of course.”

Twilight lashed her tail and was pleased to hear one of them squeak. “We’re here,” she grumbled, veering down a short side passage and into the galley. Tables and low stools littered the place, while the front wall was lined with windows; they were right below the cockpit, as she recalled, and shared the same view.

A buffet-style counter ran along the back wall, while the galley-proper could just be seen beyond it. “I suppose they must have a fair number of crew,” Twilight mused. “To have a galley this large.”

“Few dozen by my guess,” Squirrel agreed. “Takes a lot of maintenance to keep something like this going.”

“Oi you three!” A shout came from across the room: there, scowling at them from a corner seat, was Rush.

Doing her best to ignore everyone’s stares at them, Twilight stuck close to Rainbow as they crossed the room.

“Well there you are!” Rainbow exclaimed with far too much cheer. “Didn’t see you from way over there.”

Rush looked past them skeptically. “You were barely thirty feet away.”

“It was super tiring getting to you, yeah,” Rainbow agreed as she sat down heavily across from the hen. “But we soldiered through.”

Rush just stared at her. “You’re weird.” She turned to look at the other two and gave them an assessing look. “Sit – I don’t need either of you falling over when the props kick on.”

Squirrel quickly took the seat next to Rainbow, giving Twilight an amused smile as the unicorn was forced to sit next to Rush. Remembering what Rainbow’d said earlier, Twilight suddenly found herself remarkably self-conscious.

“Sooo,” Squirrel said, still sporting her grin. “The ship jerks when the engines start up? I would’n’t’ve thought a balloon this big would even shudder.”

“Mmm,” Rush grunted as she twisted in her seat, her feathers brushing against Twilight’s barrel. “Not well tuned – when they’re on, they’re on. Any of you actually have any experience?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Been on plenty of ships, but never really worked one; doesn’t matter if I’m just cooking, though, does it.”

“It kind of does,” Squirrel chided, giving her a bump on the shoulder. “If there’s a major problem on the ship, everyone’ll be expected to help.”

As if on queue, the ship juddered beneath them as a dull whine began running through the cabin – the props were spooling up.

Rush smirked as all three of them jolted in alarm. “In a pinch – yes.”

“Geez guys,” Rainbow said as she hurriedly tried to smooth her ruffled feathers. “Spook much?”

“Says you,” Squirrel grumbled.

Twilight, however, had fallen right into Rush. She’s warm, Twilight thought as she found herself pressed flank to wing.

Rush leaned back to stare at her. “Still spooked?” She blinked. “Why’re you blushing?”

“Nothing!” Twilight squeaked as she quickly shuffled away. “I’m fine!”

Rush continued blinking nonplussed at her. “Sure you are,” she eventually chirped. “So that’s two hopeless sailors, then.”

She continued talking about their upcoming duties, but Twilight – much to her surprise – found she could barely pay attention, her hooves kneading distractedly on the ground. Dang Rainbow and her dang insight, she grumbled to herself. Giving her head a brisk shake, she took a deep breath and began paying attention.