“This big enough?” Fenrir asks, setting the hook down on The Shoebill’s deck.
Tabitha comes running up to check on it. “Perfect! That’ll definitely be big enough to hook that baby right out of the water,” she explains, arms crossed over her chest as she nods. “Now for the rest of the crew to bring back the stuff I need.”
“What are you going to make with all of this anyways?”
“You’ll see! It’ll be revealed at the right time for dramatic effect! By the way, I installed a prototype engine of mine that I had in my backpack. It runs on combustion crystals and will speed this baby up faster than any ships relyin’ only on the wind!”
“An engine? Like, you mean like the kind in real life?”
Tabitha nods.
“How’d you manage to get it working? Doesn’t the overseer stop things that are too modern from working?”
“Well, ya see, the secret is in the fuel. Naturally, somethin’ that’s runnin’ on diesel ain’t ever goin’ to work, and not even coal will be allowed to work as a fuel, but these crystals,” she takes one of the crystals out from her pocket to toss over to Fenrir, “make it work! It’s all about how ya go about it. If ya do it in a fantasy-styled way, it works!”
Fenrir’s hands feel warm as he holds the crystal. It looks as if there are red and yellow gases swirling around within it, trying their best to avoid touching one another. “How’s it work?” he asks.
“Try smackin’ it with your other hand.”
Fenrir does as she says, smacking the crystal with his free hand.
Constant, miniature explosions erupt within the crystal! Each explosion sends energy outward that burns his hands which makes him toss it between his two hands as if it’s a hot potato before eventually throwing it overboard. Even as it sinks into the water, he and everybody nearby on the docks can hear its explosions.
“Shit, I threw it overboard. Sorry,” he says, watching it as it sinks. The bright light its emitting thanks to the pulsating explosions shows exactly where it is as it sinks. “How long is it going to be doing that for?”
“It’s alright, and not too long! That one was runnin’ on empty, and I haven’t figured out a way to recharge them yet, so it’s okay to toss that one. Just don’t go losin’ one of the full ones I’ve got,” Tabitha explains.
“How many do you have?”
She pulls out three more from her pockets. “And I’ve got another dozen or so in my backpack somewhere.”
“Are you sure having a dozen of exploding crystals somewhere in your backpack is a safe idea?”
“Of course it ain’t! Don’t mean that it isn’t a fun one, though.”
“Can’t argue with that. So, how do the crystals power the engine?”
Tabitha leads him below deck.
Built into the back of the ship is what appears to be a furnace with a small container for a fuel source with some mechanical gears and belts that Fenrir assumes are powered by the fuel source and causes the rotor to spin. Fenrir has only ever seen old pictures of combustion engines before, and this reminds him of a more fantasy-esque version of one. Though, calling it steampunk might be fairer.
It looks pretty cool, actually. He wishes cars still had engines like this instead of everything being fully electric.
“Did you make this yourself?” Fenrir asks.
“I did! Had it in my backpack! It’s the latest model of the Strism Engine. Strism Engine Mk. 7.2!” Tabitha proudly answers.
“What happened to all the previous models?”
“They’re scattered underneath the water here. Remember what I said about those other ships not being able to keep up? Well, my engines are to thank for that! Look, an average ship this size can maybe sail at abooouuuutttt… eight to twelve knots depending on wind speed, the hull, and so on. With my baby here,” she pats on the engine, “I’ll have ya goin’ at least 15 knots without any help from the wind! Ya better hope for some smooth waters or it’s gonna be one heckuva bumpy ride!”
Fenrir is getting excited. However, before he can fangirl with her over her engine’s potential, he hears footsteps above them. “Sounds like the others are back. I’ll go check on them,” he says, going back above deck.
Serra, Rock, Oleander, and Corwin are the first to come back after him. Serra has a telescope in her hands, and the two boyfriends have a spool of thick bowstring. “You didn’t see Cassiel on your way back, did you?” Fenrir asks them.
“Nope! Hope she doesn’t spend too long looking around for this still. I told the guy we bought this from to refuse her if she happens to go in the same shop as us,” Oleander explains.
Fenrir looks at Serra. “Have any trouble getting that?” he asks her.
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Serra shakes her head. “Thelmes was there again. Told me to invite you for fish experiments.”
“I… think I’ll pass on that.” Fenrir feels bad about refusing the curious cat-goblin-thing’s desire to experiment with using fish as weapons, but – wait, a really stupid thought just came into his head.
What if there are mermaids? What would happen if he were to swing a mermaid around by her tail to use her as a weapon? No, this is too idiotic a line of thought. He shakes his head to return to the topic at hand.
He regains his senses to see Bonekraka walking up to the ship with several large logs of wood supported on his shoulders.
Bonekraka walks onto The Shoebill and tosses the logs down onto the deck.
“Oi! Be careful up there! Ya know how much work I’ve been puttin’ into this baby?! I swear if ya break anything then I’m gonna break you!” Tabitha shouts from below deck.
Bonekraka grumbles and walks away without saying anything else.
Every time he’s around, everybody gets quiet and waits to see what he’s going to do or say. Fenrir is beginning to believe it’s going to be a miracle if he stays with them long enough to make it to the tournament, but at the same time, he knows that Bonekraka has never backed out of anything. He has never run away from what he’s said he’ll do.
No matter how awkward the current situation may be, Fenrir has faith in him that Bonekraka won’t be abandoning them.
“Alright. There’s one more thing we have to figure out while Tabs finishes up with the ship. What is Bone’s job going to be?” Fenrir asks them.
Oleander is the first to speak up. “I’ve heard that there can be boardings and fights during the tournament, so he could just be on defense and keep us safe.”
“Nobody is going to be catching us with the engine that Tabs installed.”
“Engine? We have an engine now?”
“Well, she is an engineer.”
Oleander looks unimpressed with his lame joke. At least Serra is smiling.
“But yeah, we’re going to be faster than every other ship, so nobody is going to be able to board us. I think. Probably,” Fenrir continues. “He doesn’t like fishing, he doesn’t like being on open water, and… yeah, this is why I doubted that he was going to be up for joining us in the first place. I don’t plan on us getting into any fights, but he can help out during them. Even then, I don’t know what he’s going to do if we’re not fighting.”
“If there are four of us fishing with my dear Oleander helming the ship and the orange-haired one keeping up with the ship below deck, I do not believe there is much need for the orc. Could he not just stay below deck and wait until the events are over?” Corwin asks. Oleander hugs onto his arm as a reward for speaking up.
Serra walks up to Fenrir and does the same with his arm.
“Serra. We talked about this,” Cassiel says, finally appearing with nothing to show for it. She wants to complain when she sees that Oleander and Corwin were able to find what they were looking for, but she’s too annoyed with her failure to say anything about it.
“Talked about what?” Fenrir asks.
“Nothing, you dog bastard.”
Serra reluctantly gives up Fenrir’s arm.
He looks at the two girls curiously. They’ve been getting along better ever since that fight happened, and he sees them talking in private every now and then. Neither of them ever give Fenrir any clues as to what they’re talking about either.
“Moving on from the fact that I’ve been upgraded from bastard to dog bastard, Corwin, I don’t have a problem if Bonekraka wants to do that, but I want to at least try and find something for him to do. I just… can’t think of anything.”
Tabitha comes up from below deck. “If you’re tryin’ to figure out what to do with the big green guy, why not just let me manage him? He could come in handy, and I’m sure I’ll think of a few uses for him. Worst comes to worst, we’re gonna be takin’ on water during the tournament, and I’m going to need some help keeping this baby in top operatin’ conditions.”
“You sure, Tabs?” Fenrir asks.
“As sure as honey on pineapple!”
Everybody looks at her.
“What? Ya never eat some pineapple with some delicious honey drizzled on it? Noobs these days.”
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