Mordecai paused, feeling an idea take root in his mind. He examined the space where Farrel had fallen from up above, then the bow, then the deck he would have had to cross normally. He turned to the Mechanist, now swaying on a ladder held by Konrad while he worked on the linkage mechanisms suspended from the gasbag frame above them. "Can you get that mess working in short order?"
The youth started and almost fell. He looked down to Mordecai, face uncertain. "Y-Yes. I think. I mean, I should be able to. Only a simple line break. The chain was going to go anyway, so rusted through. I can replace it in fifteen minutes perhaps."
"You've got ten," replied Mordecai, turning to stalk down to the deck. He made his way forward, shouting orders at the crew as he went. Perhaps we can pull this off.
Natasha stood waiting for him as he climbed up the forecastle. She'd recovered her composure, but now her temper was up. "You tread thin ice, Mordecai," she hissed. "How dare you counteract me on my own ship?"
"It's my prerogative to do so when you're not thinking straight," he said mildly. "Such as now. This isn't your ship." He pointed to the distant glimmer of the Dawnhawk. "That one is."
"You think I need reminding?" she asked, voice low, furious.
"Yes. But more, I think you need to apply yourself again to your post. She's on the Run, skysails out."
"So? We burn all the coal we brought and we can make up the pace."
Mordecai shook his head. "For a little time. But they'd see us, and spin back up to speed. With their furnace to full and the aetherline flowing we'd lose them again, and be stranded to boot. No. We can't beat the Dawnhawk directly, she's sleeker than this scow, and has more coal in her holds." He looked up. "But I've got an idea as to how we can catch her."
Natasha's features smoothed, one delicate eyebrow rising. "Oh? Tell me."
"We pounce on them at Engmann's Maelstrom."
His captain blinked. The newcomer Guye Farrel groaned below them. Mordecai outlined his plan. Natasha smiled, and he knew she was convinced.
They were going to get their ship back.
Chapter Seven
"Aether's invisible." said Andrea. The piratess had dark hair and dark eyes. She took a swig from a hip flask and passed it to Lina. "Here. This is Corsair's Cure-all. Have a shot."
"All right" replied Lina. She sniffed the open end and jerked her head back. The contents had a chemical stench that ate at her sinuses, bringing fresh tears into her eyes.
"Ah, Cure-all," said Ryan Gae through his scruffy black beard. "Found two casks of the stuff down below. Go on, take a swallow. It'll put hair on your chest."
Afternoon sunlight lit the ocean beyond the ship, though the deck itself lay in shadow cast by the gas-bag, as usual. The three of them sat amidships, off-watch, against the port-side exhaust-pipes. Here the tubes were free of skysail linkages and pleasantly warm from the steam within. Through them Lina felt the rumble of the furnace in the Mechanist's room belowdecks.
"That's the second-to-last place that I want hair," Lina said, staring at the flask. She knew she'd have to drink it; her new crewmates were only trying to be friendly. Still though, she worked at getting up the nerve. She'd had many awful drinks before, in similar circumstances. But this stuff promised to be the worst, even more so than the bathtub gin she'd brewed in the slums back home.
"What's the last place?" asked Ryan, curious.
"My back," Lina replied with a smile. She wrapped her lips around the flask and tipped it up. Fire shot down her throat, burned out her sinuses and charred her innards. She gave a strangled cry and fell to the deck, arms and legs curling like a dead spider.
Things felt different aboard the Dawnhawk today. Exhausted after throwing Oscar overboard the night before, she had left him to his friends and gone down below to pass out in her hammock. Now there was a subtle change in the crew, they were less wary and more welcoming. Those she passed nodded or gave her a smile.
After rising around noon she'd made her way to the mess, where Andrea and Ryan Gae had made her acquaintance. They were friendly enough, and she liked them. Andrea loved to talk, and Ryan laughed loudly. Now the three of them idled about abovedeck. Apparently there had been some alarm earlier, a sighting of another skyship. It wasn't chasing after them, though, and the Dawnhawk had left it quickly behind.
"Good stuff, eh?" Ryan took the flask of Cure-all from her and downed a swig, then pushed it back into her hands.
Oh Goddess. The world swam above Lina. She clutched at the flask, trying for focus. Climbing back up from the deck seemed an impossible task.
"Anyway," continued Andrea as if nothing was wrong, "aether's invisible. Only an aetherite can see it. That's why they call 'em that."