The ground flew away as the airship steadily rose, passing through the air to approach the clouds.

“That went pretty well!” Jerry said with a smile, lying on the deck with arms sprawled to the sides.

“Well, my ass!” replied Marcus. His hand was on his chest, and he was panting. “We almost died thrice!”

“But we didn’t,” added Laura. “None of us.”

“Speaking of”—he turned towards her—“who even are you?”

“I’m Laura. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“All mine, but the question stands. Who are you? Why are you here?”

She smiled at Marcus, her chest still trembling from exhaustion. “I overheard you in the town, figured out your plan, then hid in the manor to join you… I apologize for being indirect, but I was afraid you’d refuse me if I asked outright.”

“Of course we would.” Marcus frowned. “This is business, and tight one, too. We cannot let random people join us—even if they’re hydromancers.”

“I was in need,” she responded, eyes mellowing. “I know I was wrong, but there was no other choice.”

“Come on, Marcus,” said Jerry from the deck, “don’t be grumpy. You know what they say, the more, the merrier. What’s the harm in taking her along?”

The treasure hunter struck him with a glare. Jerry smiled in response, turning around and heading towards Axehand’s fallen form. Overcharging him like that had taken a massive toll, and that’s not even mentioning the previous injuries he’d sustained. The enigma of his disobedience remained, and it looked tantalizing to solve, but healing Axehand took priority.

The double-skeleton’s bone began squirming as the others carried on their discussion.

“I owe you my life,” said Laura, piercing Marcus’s soul with an earnest gaze. “I won’t betray you in any way. I mean no harm.”

“Let’s all be friends.” Boney strolled over from below the deck, spreading his bony arms wide. “It’s not like we have a bone to pick with each other. Since Laura’s already here, why make things difficult?”

“That’s right.” She gave a flowery smile. “I don’t have a single bad bone in my body.”

Everyone stared. “Did you just—”

“I can pay, too,” Laura continued. “Not much, but I can give you everything I have. All I ask is that you drop me off anywhere in the Dead Lands.”

Marcus seemed to hesitate, alternating his gaze between her and the large sack of taels he’d brought on board. “You don’t need to pay,” he finally said. “Just… who are you?”

“I have that question too,” said Jerry. “Why are you trying to get to the Dead Lands? You’re a hydromancer, right? You could just live a comfortable life in Edge, or Milaris, or wherever you want.”

“If only it was so simple.” She gave a sad smile. “There are dangerous people after me. I needed to escape, and the Dead Lands is the only place I can stay hidden—or at least, the only such place I can reach.”

“But you’ll die,” Boney noted. “Aren’t you afraid of the Curse?”

“I have my ways.”

“And what would those be?”

She raised a wood nettle necklace.

“Oh…” Jerry let out a sigh, standing up to inspect his work. Axehand grunted and stood up as well, gazing at Jerry with purple eye flames before turning and limping away—he wasn’t fully healed, but Jerry was spent.

“You saved us all, Axehand… on behalf of everyone, thank you.”

The double-skeleton looked back over his shoulder, grunting in pride before sitting down, grabbing his flask, and starting to drink.

With a relieved sigh, the necromancer turned to the others. “I’m sorry, Laura,” he said, “but wood nettle doesn’t work—it’s only a superstition.”

“It works if you’re smart about it. The explorers of Alabaster have discovered how to make actual, working medicine against the Curse—the prejudice isn’t all hollow.” She smiled, glancing at Marcus. “You know that too, don’t you? You wouldn’t dare travel otherwise.”

Marcus frowned. “How do you know that? It’s supposed to be a tightly-guarded secret.”

“I told you, I have my ways.” She looked at Jerry. “And as repayment for saving your life, I ask that you don’t pry.”

“Sure. Everyone’s got their secrets.”

“Jerry!”

“What? She’s with us now, we should trust her. Let’s just travel together until we find a nice, civilized place to drop her off.”

Laura smiled again. “Sure!”

Boney sighed in helplessness. “Oh, Master… That’s so wrong I don’t even know where to start from.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Jerry leaned on his elbows, rising to a sitting position. “Anyway… all’s well that ends well, right? We even got some money for our trouble, right, Marcus?”

“Indeed…” Marcus gazed at the sack of taels, love in his eyes. “So many… Between me and your undead animals, we must have brought a few thousand worth of taels… This is a dream.”

“Oh, the mice…” Jerry’s eyes suddenly took a sad tint. “I thought they would join us, but I guess that wasn’t meant to be. With any luck, they’ll escape the guards and live happy unlives in the sewers. I’ve already released them from my control.”

Marcus frowned. “Having wild undead in the sewers sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Don’t worry; they’re good kids. They won’t bother anybody.”

“If you say so, I gue—Ah! Crap, the fuel! We reached altitude, why didn’t anybody tell me?!”

Marcus suddenly turned around and headed for the center of the deck, where the fuel barrel was still attached to the balloon through a pipe. Grabbing a valve at the end of the pipe, he turned it with some difficulty, and the airship’s ascent decelerated before coming to a gradual stop.

“You four”—he turned to the Billies—“what are you sitting around for? Open the sails already, we need to go before they send flying wizards after us!”

“There are flying wizards?” Jerry’s mouth opened wide as Marcus directed the Billies to the sails, pointing at the ropes they had to pull—thankfully, the moon shone bright tonight. The four of them climbed up the two masts like monkeys, and a few minutes later, with a whooshing sound, two white sails were dropped and instantly filled with wind.

The airship, now holding a mostly steady altitude, sailed forward.

“You need to explain how this works tomorrow, Marcus…” said Jerry, stepping beside the treasure hunter.

“Sure. Look, Jerry! The wind is on our side; it’s blowing to the Dead Lands!”

“That’s great news, isn’t it?” The necromancer smiled, crossing his arms behind his back. Below their airship, the town of Edge was illuminated by counless small torches, making for a magical view if one only looked down. “Is there anything else you need to do right now, Marcus?”

The treasure hunter turned around. “No. Why?”

“There’s something I need to talk to you about…” he said, glancing at the large sack of taels.

“What? You’ll get your fair share.”

“That’s not it. You see… that money was stolen from the town, right? The Count embezzled them, so logically speaking, they belong to the townspeople.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like where this is going,” he said. “You’re not touching my share.”

“But you saw how poor they are,” Jerry insisted with a smile. “You’re practically stealing from beggars.”

“No, the Count stole from beggars, and I stole from the Count. I don’t see your point. What do you want anyway, throw them down?”

Jerry stared. Marcus blinked.

“No,” he said. “You want to throw them down.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” replied the necromancer. “This money belongs to them. It will be useless where we’re going, anyway.”

“But it’s taels! They’ll be useful when we return!”

“If we return… and in any case, this money belongs to Edge, not us. We just retrieved it from the Count. Are you really willing to steal from the poor?”

“But…” Marcus took a step back, eyes swiveling from side to side. “No. Stop. You can’t do this to me! What if they land on someone’s head?”

“They’re coins—at most, they’ll give people a bump.”

“What if they get stuck on the rooftops and remain useless—or worse, people climb up to get them and end up falling to their deaths?”

“Now, you’re just grasping for straws, Marcus.” Jerry laughed. “It will be fine. We’ll find more money elsewhere—and if we don’t,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “when we find Dorman’s treasure, you can just have a portion of my share.”

“But your share is tin—” Marcus stopped himself, taking a deep breath. “You can’t do this to me!” he yelled, grabbing the sack with both arms. “I worked so hard for this! I wanted it so bad!”

“Right is right, Marcus.” Jerry smiled.

“I would like to keep the money,” said Boney, “but I have to side with Master on this one.”

“Me too,” added Laura, nodding.

Marcus pointed a finger at her. “Who said you could talk?”

“I’m just expressing my opinion.”

“But… my taels…” Marcus whimpered. Facing all those stares, he had no choice but to buckle. He pouted, helplessness coloring his voice. “This is so unfair.”

“Look at the bright side,” said Boney, gently plucking the sack from his hands. He pulled the cord open and walked to the railing, gazing at the town far below—in the darkness of the night, and from this height, the houses were barely even visible. They were already a thousand feet into the sky.

Marcus trembled, holding himself back. Boney took a deep breath. “For the town of Edge… you’re a hero.”

And then, he emptied the sack into the air.

“NO!” Marcus cried out, leaning over the railing to grab a single coin, but the rest were already spiraling downward, driven apart by the winds. “I don’t want to be a hero! I just wanna be rich!”

The coins had fallen despite his pleas, and he could only snivel as he held on to the one he’d managed to save. “Goodbye, my shinies…”

Jerry laughed.

And then, with the night wind on their sails, victory in their hearts, and a new person aboard…they crossed over the Wall.

They were in the Dead Lands.

***

The people of Edge would never forget that night.

The sounds of combat hadn’t long died down when plinks came from the rooftops, first one, then a downpour—and they stopped as quickly as they came.

People peeked through their windows—and in the town of the poor, the streets shined with coins bathed in bright moonlight.

“What the—” Many jaws fell. And then, the people celebrated, for the Gods had blessed them and rained money in their time of need. It was a moment of release, and, come morning, the temple of Manna had never seen more faithful congregating before its altar.

News of the Count’s death spread like wildfire. His children were recalled to the capital, and with no one of age to inherit his position, the townspeople quickly urged the female commander of the Wall, Hypolite, to assume leadership. She was an earth spirit, and her only desire was to fight the undead in the name of Gaia. The town’s progress would benefit her, so she did her best.

The manor’s vaults were ransacked, and all the money was put to good use. With a capable leader at the helm, Edge’s downcast look quickly changed, and over the next few months, a new breath of life was infused into the town.

Nobody knew exactly what had happened that night in the manor, calling their mysterious savior a hero—and those in the know opted not to reveal that this hero was a hated necromancer.

The abandoned, colorful tent in the town square was taken down the next day, but stories about the undead circus remained in circulation for a long time.

And as for the objects of those stories, they only learned about Edge’s future a long time later. By the time the coins had landed, the airship had already crossed above the Wall, heading into the mysterious Dead Lands.

Jerry and his friends were heading into new, wonderful adventures…in the most dangerous place the world had ever seen.