Even in defeat Natasha looked as she always did. Stunning. There was nothing elegant or refined about her, however. She wasn't lovely or picturesque. Instead she was sensual, vibrant. His wife always reminded Fengel of a panther or some other great cat. Nervous anticipation twisted his stomach even now at the sight of her crooked smile, just like when she'd taken the Dawnhawk back, just like when he'd seen her in the Bleeding Teeth at the start of all this. His heart always ignored his head and the many other, extremely negative, emotions she woke in him.
"Well," said the pirate princess. "Fancy meeting you lot here."
Not really. I'm right where I want to be. You're just bad luck. Fengel went over the insult a few times and found it lacking. Then the moment had passed. Ah well. He turned and faced his crew, who were all glaring at Natasha with undisguised loathing.
"Headcount," he said. "What's our status?"
Henry Smalls coughed. "Back hurts from that scratch," he said. "But I'm good. Sorry, sir, this knife isn't doing much. Maybe if we're here awhile."
"I'm fine," grunted Gunny Lome. "Was doing better, until that batty whore showed up."
"Oh," sighed Natasha sarcastically. "Why, I do believe I've been insulted. By a seven foot cow with no neck and wrists bigger than her teats."
Sarah Lome glared at her.
"I…I think I'm okay," said Oscar Pleasant. "But I haven't walked right since that Lina girl—"
"Geoffrey Lords?" interrupted Fengel.
The pirate spat, then grinned, revealing teeth filed down to points. Geoffrey rarely spoke. He looked up from where he'd been testing the strength of each bar. The grin meant that he hadn't found anything yet. Or that he was hungry. Or something. Fengel nodded in awkward reply.
"Well," said Fengel. "Nothing for it, then. Let's keep up our tasks. Once the moment strikes, we'll make our move. If only Maxim—"
"Here, sir," came a croak from the floor.
Fengel was there in an instant, Gunny Lome back to cradling their aetherite's head. Maxim looked terrible still, but his eyes were wide and peered at the cage around them.
"Hello, there," said Fengel. He grinned. "I worried that we were losing you."
"Shut up." Maxim groaned. Then he blinked at Fengel's face. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean you. Just him." He tipped his head toward his left shoulder. "My head pounds, but I am alive. Please help me up. Where are we?"
Fengel stood back to allow him room. Gunny Lome supported his weight, but Maxim got his own hands under himself and sat up. He looked around at his crewmates, the cage, and then Natasha. He blinked in surprise and narrowed his eyes. The aetherite opened his mouth to say something, then lowered his eyebrows, as if puzzled. He stared, gibbered a scream, and scuttled back away from the front of the cage, into Sarah's ample grasp. Maxim kicked and pushed and fought, desperate to get away from something near the cage door.
"Cute," said Natasha.
Fengel frowned. His navigator was terrified of something, and it wasn't his wife. He peered back out the cage. The temple had not changed. Some of the nearest guards watched them in interest, but had come no closer. The lava below was terrifying, yes, but it couldn't be seen directly from where they were kept prisoner. The only other thing of interest was the chieftain, near the Lantern atop its pillar.
He turned back to Maxim. "What's wrong? What are you seeing?" Aetherites could see the immaterial, daemons and the curving aetherlines of the world. "Is it a daemon?" Fengel remembered the creature at the eye of Engmann's Maelstrom. For him it had been invisible, unfelt. But it had deeply impacted Maxim.
"Oh, Goddess," said Maxim in an awful voice. "It's cursed. Cursed. It warps the very air. It tarnishes the aether with its very presence."
Fengel peered back at the center of the temple. "What, the chieftain?"
Maxim caught his gaze when he looked back at the aetherite. "No, Captain. The gemstone. The Lantern. Oh, don't touch it. If we even just touch it we're doomed."
Fengel pursed his lips. Everyone and their brother had been trying to tell him the Lantern was cursed. And now it really was. That was quite vexing.
"Well," he said. "We'll just have to be careful. I seem to recall that in Breachtown they put it in a box. Maybe we can find a rope or something."
His crew were staring at him. Henry raised his eyebrows in surprise, and not a little admiration.
"Typical," said Natasha. "You come all this way, lose so much, for a Worked gemstone that just happens to be cursed."
Fengel didn't bother to reply. Henry Smalls did, however. "Why are you even here?" he asked, glaring at her.