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“—gaining. By all estimations, they’ll overtake us sometime after nightfall if nothing changes.” The speaker was a man Wumble had yet to encounter, though the distinctive uniform paired with a massive physique tipped him off as another of the bearship’s pilots.

“Auxiliary systems are holding strong, we’ve been swapping out our familiars as per the usual schedule.” This time, the speaker was someone Wumble knew, the pilot called Kettlin. “We have a few emergency weapons that can be powered by electricity, however, to charge them we’d have to put all the bears on at once. It would throw off the rotation schedule and leave us vulnerable while they’re recovering.”

Captain Sharshaw sighed, a deep weary sound that seemed to come from her whole body at once. “Do we have any estimations on how much mana could be gathered if every wizard donated?”

“Assuming we get every single wizard on board to contribute their mana, and they were given adequate time to recover before the donations occurred, we estimate enough mana to fire one cannon or hold the barrier for half a minute,” Kettlin replied. “After such a long fight, everyone is just too drained.”

Rising from his spot on the deck, Wumble hustled back over to Wanda’s side. From the sounds of things, danger was closing in fast. With so many occorites of such size, Wumble couldn’t be certain he’d be able to defend Wanda, which meant he was going to have to find some way to ensure the occorites never caught up.

After Wanda finished brewing her potions, of course.

TWENTY

It was with a heavy heart that Captain Sharshaw prepared to address her ship, the motley assemblage of crew and passengers who’d fought valiantly to fend off an absolute horde of aerial occorites. These were the moments every bearship pilot knew of, yet each hoped never to meet for themselves. Hope was a thin ray of light amidst a storm-covered sky, a beam that was fading by the moment.

Yet she would not allow despair to reach her voice. However slender their chances might be, Captain Sharshaw refused to surrender until every drop of mana and effort were wrung from her body. They had a plan; an awful plan with minimal odds of success, but even that tenuous map would be helpful. Focus and action would keep panic from taking hold.

If their unity broke, The Ursender was truly done for.

“Attention, all passengers, it is my great displeasure to inform you that our pilots expect the occorite flock to overtake us before we can reach port. We have begun preparation for another confrontation, beginning with reopening the familiar recreation facilities. Please calmly bring your familiars down as swiftly and orderly as possible. That will give them the greatest amount of protection when the occorites arrive.”

Whispers sprang up, as Captain Sharshaw expected. Putting the familiars back on a lower deck meant only attunement phase wizards and beyond would be able to cast, further limiting their already strained ability to fight back.

“We no longer believe that individual spells will be the most efficient use of our remaining strength. Instead, I must implore you to return to the Main Deck after depositing your familiars and channel your mana into our bearship’s reserves. By pooling our might directly, we will be able to utilize The Ursender’s shields or weapons briefly. If we can find a weakness in their formation, a single cannon shot may be the difference between escape and destruction.”

Many of the older captains a younger Sharshaw had learned from would have delivered a more eloquent, rousing speech meant to drive the listeners into compliance before they could consider the outcome. She’d always preferred a more direct approach. Present people with the truth and trust them to act in their natures. Either the wizards merged their mana, or their chances of escape shrank to nil. Hopefully, that would be enough to drive them toward a wise decision.

If not, then Captain Sharshaw would do all she could. That was her duty, one she intended to see through to its end, no matter what shape that finale might take.

When the last person in line was finally healed, Wanda had six potions remaining. Every other scrap of ingredient had been used up, and her cauldrons were already dismissed. Once they were gone, the slight touch of fatigue she’d been feeling vanished as well, though she still hung back to let Lenar handle the actual exchanges. Wanda focused on managing their remaining inventory, which grew easier as the supply shrank, until at last there was nobody left.

The pair still hung around in the same spot for a bit longer to make sure no one else was going to run up, but everybody with an injury had naturally hurried over to the alchemists and gotten in line. When it was clear they were done, Wanda offered Lenar three of the remaining bottles. “Split the remainder?”

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate; you’re the one who brewed those,” Lenar pointed out.

“Yeah, but this was a team project, right? You did all the selling so I could brew. Doesn’t seem fair for you not to keep any.”

Hesitating, Lenar finally reached out, only plucking two of the potions from her hand. “This is enough. One for me, one for Karlisle. You have a four-wizard team. This way, each member can have an emergency bottle on hand. By the looks of things, that blue moss made a very potent concoction. I’m curious to get them examined.”

“We should probably have saved some,” Wanda realized much too late. “I’m sure the moss has been discovered though, right? We could probably find it if we researched for long enough.”

It was then that Captain Sharshaw’s announcement arrived, ending all conversation nearby, including Wanda and Lenar’s. They both absorbed the declaration calmly, though Wanda picked up Wumble and held him close. He nuzzled against her, resting his head atop her shoulder in something of a makeshift hug.

When the announcement was done, the mass of wizards filling the Main Deck began filtering down the stairwells, draining like a bathtub of people that had sprung multiple simultaneous leaks. Wanda allowed herself to be moved along with the tide, eager to get Wumble down below where it would supposedly be safer.

Dire as the announcement had been, one part of it stood out as odd to Wanda. “Why do you think Captain Sharshaw only asked us to come back to the deck? She’s usually more… direct.” Wanda couldn’t remember if she’d heard the captain say anything that wasn’t an announcement or an order, outside of their brief conversation about brewing potions. Even then, every word had been teeming with unspoken authority.

Lenar kept his voice low as he answered, “No one can legally compel someone to give over their mana. Not even in situations like these. Some wizards might have imbuements or know spells that allow them to escape. All she can do is request and leave the choice in our hands.”

As the staircase swallowed she and Wumble, Wanda cast one last look across the emptying Main Deck. Past the stern, to the growing dark spot on the horizon. One that would all-too-soon be far more visible.

Pulling Wumble closer, Wanda descended into the depths of The Ursender, both relieved and unsettled to no longer have the sky and its dangers in view.

TWENTY-ONE

From the moment Wumble was dropped off at the familiar recreation facilities to the instant he slipped out using a well-time Scoot, barely a full minute had passed. Just long enough for Wanda to be on her way up the stairs to the Main Deck.

Based on what he’d overheard, it sounded like the wizards would be channeling their mana into the bearship, and when Wanda started to contribute, that was going to be quite the boost indeed. Apparently, there were two power systems on the ship: one fueled by mana the other electricity. With Wanda handling the first, that left Wumble to make sure they had enough of the second source.