Captain Ingram paced back and forth, footsteps that should have been heavy making surprisingly little sound amid the restrained-panic bustling of sailors all around them. His bright, thoughtful eyes watched Kiera with a determined but resigned intensity. “Aye, the crew’s to fetch anything remotely seaworthy from below. Barrels are our best bet, I would think, but they may bring up other things besides.” The smoke from his pipe was hard to tell apart from the fog. “We’re not likely to have much time to rig up anything too intricate if the lower hold’s already flooded.”<br/><br/>He glanced over his shoulder into the fog and sighed. “And once the old lady’s doomed for sure, I’ll give her a proper blackpowder burial. If we cannot have her, neither will this gods-blasted fog. Anything that can float will follow the current, if indeed it leads anywhere. Some of the drink is bound to survive, at least. Hardy stuff.”<br/><br/>Presently, Daniel Carraway jogged into view and brought the barrel rolling in front of him to a stop with the heel of his foot. “Hope you’re not planning that blackpowder burial for yourself, as well.” He clicked his tongue. “Ship or no ship, a crew needs a captain… needs order, or everything gets right rutted.”<br/><br/>The captain’s eyes flashed, but he only rolled his pipe between his teeth. “There’s another as capable,” he said. “But you’re right, Mr. Carraway. I will not let the deep claim me so easily if I can help it, even if it means losing the poor<i>Queen</i>.” He raised one thin eyebrow at the barrel beneath the first mate’s boot. “Preparations?”<br/><br/>“Aye. Anyone I saw before I reached the breach knows to be on deck.” He turned the barrel upright without much effort and peered inside it with disdain. “We’re losing her fast, and I don’t know that I trust my life to a barrel. Still, don’t know if there’s anything else to be done. Spoke to a girl who said even magic was next to useless in this mist. Tried to seal the hole, she did.” He shook his head. “No use. We’re still sinking fast. Deck’ll be tilting before long.”<br/><br/>A piercing purple light shone through the fog, seeming for a time to drive it back from the deck. The priest’s eyes swept across the deck like living fire. The barrels, tables, chairs, rope, and even boards of cork littered the deck, all hastily assembled by sailors in search of salvation. It would all float, maybe, but it was a far cry from seaworthy. “The shroud hides us from the gaze of the gods,” he said, in his deep, booming voice. “But Shiri knows of all that cross her waters, and Aura’s thoughts are ever with her lover’s. ‘Ere long, the lovers will guide you again. You need only be strong until the veil is lifted again.” He lifted his arms, holding the staff high in the air. “So choose your vessels wisely, and have faith. Not all will be lost.”<br/><br/>“Has a way with words, that one,” Daniel said. “I’d’ve just said, ‘Stuff yourself and anything else you dare in a barrel and make peace with the gods.’” He let out a long breath. “Can’t say I haven’t seen better odds, and I’ve almost never seen worse. Wouldn’t blame some of these poor sods for wanting to go down with the<i>Queen</i>rather than face the waves in<i>this</i>.” He looked sourly at the barrel. “I suppose I’d best to ready to lower some doomed souls to the waiting waters.”<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>