"Capital," he said, forcing his voice to calm. The lizard-creature appeared to be alone. Gambling with an assurance he didn't feel, Fengel sheathed his sword in one smooth motion. Thankfully, the monster didn't scream and charge. It didn't snarl and throw its spear. Instead it crossed its arms over its chest and bowed down low at the waist.
"Rastalak," it said. "Of the Mauvengy Tribe." The creature's voice was sibilant, hissing as it spoke.
He nodded to it. "Captain Fengel, of the good ship Dawnhawk," he replied. Fengel gestured around at his crew. "These are my Men. Their names aren't important right now."
The others glanced over at him. Henry Smalls raised an eyebrow. Fengel ignored them, concentrating instead on their strange visitor. It watched them in silence. The awkward moment stretched out to a minute and then on to two. Beside them the fire crackled and burned. Something hooted in the depths of the jungle.
"Well, then," continued Fengel. "I assume that you're behind these signal fires we've been following? What is your purpose? Who are you, and what are you on about?"
Rastalak nodded slowly. "It was I who lit these prayer fires. It was I who spied your sky-barge to the west and hoped to lure you closer." Rastalak planted the butt of its spear in the ground and leaned on it. "My people are the Draykin. My tribe, the Mauvengy, are in danger. I think that only your kind can help them." It shook its head sorrowfully. "Again are we under the accursed thrall of Burning Eye. I had thought it gone forever, but the stone has returned itself. I beg of you to take it away once more."
Fengel paused. I have no idea what the little monster is talking about.
The crew muttered amongst themselves. Maxim took a step forward. "What's this 'Burning Eye?'" he asked.
Rastalak knelt. It placed its spear aside and scratched at the ground with a long talon. A rough oval took shape, cross-hatched like a faceted egg. Or a cut gemstone. "Like this," said Rastalak. It then held both hands together, closed into fists. "And so."
"The Governor's Lantern!" exclaimed Fengel.
His heart was leaping in his chest. This was better than he could have hoped. He'd just known, known, that following the fires would lead him to the Lantern. Fengel took a calming breath and forcibly regained his composure. "Excuse me. But let me see if I understand you aright. You have the gemstone, this 'Burning Eye,' and you want us to take it away?"
The little Draykin nodded. Fengel felt a stupid grin crawl its way onto his face. He covered it with a cough into his fist. "Well," he said. "It's been a little out of our way, but I think we can accommodate you."
Rastalak pulled back the skin of its jaw in a strange smile and nodded furiously. It stood, grabbing up its spear. "This is most good," it said. "Come. The way will be difficult, and my people most hostile. But if we move quickly, and quietly, we will succeed."
The Draykin turned back to the jungle. Fengel blinked in confusion. He raised a hand to stop it.
"Sir," said Henry Smalls. "I don't think he has it on him."
Fengel scowled at his steward. "Hold on there," he said to Rastalak, waving his hands at the creature. "Hold on. I may have been hasty. Where is the Lantern at? And what did you mean by your people being 'most hostile?'"
The lizard-creature glanced back. It waved a claw at the eastward jungle. "The Burning Eye is ensconced again in its place, within the greatest temple-manse of Old Yrinium. The way is not far. But my people would resist its removal with claw and spear. They are under its sway, and the power of the Burning Eye is a fell one. We must be cunning, and quick. We sneak in, steal the Burning Eye, and you fly off never to return, yes?"
Rastalak eyed Fengel speculatively. Fengel knew a sales pitch when he heard one, even if it came from an upright lizard. Still. He'd known that the Lantern was close. And now it was; the solution to so many of his problems. And then I'll have truly beaten Natasha.
"How many people are your tribe?" he asked.
Rastalak shrugged, shook his head. "Not many."
"How many is many?" asked Maxim.
"Not so much," said Rastalak. "Few hundred."
The pirates all clamored dissent. Rastalak held out his talons. "Please to be quieting! Some of them might hear you."
That got their attention. "Wait," said Henry Smalls. "There are more of your hostile tribe nearby?
Rastalak gave them a flat look. "Your wondrous sky-barge is to be seen many, many, many leagues distant on clear day. Signal fires are also to be seen. Most of the Mauvengy are back in Yrinium, celebrating the return of the Burning Eye with new sacrifices. But hunters and scouts remain in the jungle. Fires could be worship fires, as lit on the path of the Burning Eye during its return from the wrecked water-barge. The sky-barge? Not so much. We must be going, and going quickly."