"Apparently I missed the party," he told her. The missing twenty pirates stood about the deck, making ready to take flight, along with a few others from Natasha's crew. The Mechanists, old and young, ran back and forth along, tending the various mechanisms on the deck.
"We always miss the excitement," said Ryan Gae. His hair was mostly gone, and burn marks covered the side of his face.
"Looks like it was fairly wild," said Andrea Holt, an amused smirk twisting her lips.
Lina used Runt to cover herself, suddenly embarrassed.
The others made their way up three at a time. Lucian called for their navigator to get them aloft. Both Maxim and Konrad his counterpart ran back to the helm, shoving each other aside. Just as Natasha and Fengel came over the side, a great cry rose up from the Draykin mob below. Lina peeked over the gunwales.
The Lorekeeper was outside, pointing at the airship and screeching furiously. The assembled mob began to howl and stomp, enraged at being tricked. One of them ran out of the press and leapt at the nearest ladder. It almost didn't make it, but at the last second it snagged the ladder, and quickly began its ascent.
"Oh, fun," said Lucian darkly. He drew the cutlass at his side. "Navigator, get us up! I don't care which one of you!" Then he leaned to hack away the rope ladder.
Lina peered at the quickly climbing reptile. It looked much like the others, but there was something about it...
"Don't!" she said to the first mate. "I know that one!"
Lucian paused, blade held overhead. "What?"
Rastalak clambered over the gunwales and rolled to its feet. It held up its hands in submission. "Wait, this one would join you. I would speak to your leader."
Fengel and Natasha stepped forward at the same time. Then they glared at each other. "What do you want?" asked Fengel. "We can't take the Lantern away anymore."
Rastalak shook its head. "Te Salaas Voorn is no longer a problem. Ah! If only I had thought to do as you did. But no matter." It met Fengel's gaze with a frank one of its own. "I am still an outcast among my people. Take me with you."
Fengel frowned. Lucian peered over the sides of the ship and cursed. Then he began hacking away the rope ladders. "Get this ship up!" he yelled back at the helm.
Fengel glanced at Rastalak, then at Lina. Then he flushed and looked back to the little Draykin. "Very well," he said. "Miss Stone. Please keep Mr. Rastalak out of the way while we make our escape. Assuming that someone hasn't damaged the ship too badly." This last he cast at Natasha, who only glared at him in outrage.
Lina touched Rastalak on the shoulder and brought him up to the bow. Runt squirmed over her shoulders, upset and exhausted by all the activity. The pirates scrabbled up the ratlines to the lookouts above, or took their places at helm and along the gunwales. Slowly, slowly, the Dawnhawk turned and rose, the outraged inhabitants of Old Yrinium crying out below them.
Lina knelt on the bow, arranging Runt for decency as best she could. Rastalak put his hands on the rail and peeked over, stunned by the view. Lina smiled, recalling the first time she'd been up in the air. As they flew, a question that had been bothering her bubbled up from the back of her mind.
"Rastalak. How do you speak our tongue?" she asked. "I haven't heard any of the other Draykin do it."
The lizard-creature made a small hand gesture, annoyed at being disturbed. "I observed, and then learned it from Silas Thorn. Many other tribes of your people inhabit this land. Their tongues I have learned, too. The grunts of your kind are not overly complex."
"Chirr!" said Runt.
Lina opened her mouth to reply, then shut it. She shook her head, and watched the city in the valley as it shrank, shrank, and then disappeared behind them.