The Dirty Countess coasted high above a velvet-green forest. There were no smoke clouds graying the sky, or airships rumbling past like in Kinvarra—there was only the calm serenity of the Western wilderness. Wren could see why Orix had made his home here after the Settlement disaster.

She stood on the open-air lower deck of the ship. It was lined with lanterns that softly glinted against the night sky. She'd put out a small table and two chairs, facing a spectacular view of the night sky. Teddy was cooking a magnificent meal in his new and improved galley—"Look at this stove, it's a work of art!"—and he would bring out two plates for them.

Wren lit the candle on the table, and adjusted the crisp white tablecloth just an inch. She took a step back and inspected, hands on hips. Everything needed to be perfect tonight. They'd all been through the wringer since Abraham's rogue shade had shown up in Carnivale—especially Scarlett.

After months of her undercover work at the Ruby Palace had been thrown out the window, she'd been forced into a sudden encounter with a mage, almost blown to pieces at Leonard's shop, had a shoot-out with the Paragon, and ended up in prison...all before flying through the passage in the fog and losing her arm to a moraith. She definitely deserved a night of being pampered.

Wren forced herself to stop adjusting the placement of the cutlery. The date would go fine. Her shade was doing the same flip-flops as her stomach, twisting over itself. It was a good thing it was dark—Scarlett wouldn't mind the shade, but Wren still wasn't used to the new creature, now permanently by her side.

The door opened and Scarlett came out onto the deck. She looked around in awe. "Oh, wow. This is beautiful, Wren."

Wren threw open her arms and beamed. "Welcome! You look...amazing."

"Oh, this old thing?" Scarlett did a spin. She wore a dazzling, floor-length blue gown. It gleamed in the moonlight, bringing out her blue eyes. She wore a sheer one-shouldered cloak, concealing her lost arm. "Thanks. It's nice to dress up again—and what better occasion than a date?"

"Very true. Your seat, milady?"

"Why, thank you..."

"May I take your cloak?"

Scarlett looked away. "No...no, I don't think so. Not yet."

Wren wasn't surprised, but the answer saddened her all the same. "You really don't have to cover up," she said, taking her seat opposite Scarlett. "Especially with me."

Scarlett shifted uncomfortably. "It takes more than a day to get used to something like this, Wren."

"I know...and you shouldn't get used to it, either. I said I was going to fix it and I will." When she learned how to use her magic.

"I remember what you said."

"But you're skeptical?"

Scarlett shrugged. "I don't want to get my hopes up."

Wren reached across the table and took her hand. "I'll find a way. I promise."

Scarlett met her eyes. They'd never made promises to each other that they hadn't kept.

Just then, the door burst open. Teddy hurried outside, carefully balancing two steaming plates. "Dinner is served!" he announced cheerfully. "Tonight we have fried herring with a side of potato with rosemary and fresh spring beans."

Wren's mouth watered. "This looks delicious."

"Another fantastic meal," said Scarlett. "Thanks, Teddy."

"My pleasure. Do enjoy..." He bowed low, keeping up the server persona, and disappeared, closing the door behind him.

When he was gone, Scarlett rested her chin on her hand. Just looking at her made Wren's heart skip a beat. "You didn't have to do this, you know," Scarlett said. "I would've been fine just having supper inside with the crew."

"I wanted to do something special."

"Why?"

"Because! I wanted to show you how much I love you, of course."

"I already know how much you love me. A lot." Scarlett took a sip of her drink. "Do you remember our first date?"

Wren laughed. "Kebabs. I wanted to take you somewhere fancy, but a proper restaurant wouldn't have accepted lint and a spare button as payment."

"Kebabs will always have a special place in my heart."

"I wish I could have taken you out somewhere nice today, too, but this guy attracts some attention." Wren nodded to the shade above them.

"Oh shush," Scarlett said, and gestured to the dinner setup. "I think you've set a new high standard."

Wren grinned. "Excellent."

The door flew open again, startling them both. Godfrey rushed outside, balancing a stack of books in his arms.

Wren bolted up. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing. Although we did get another letter from the Mothers..." he looked around at the lanterns and table, confused. "What's all this? Are we having dinner out here tonight?"

"Scarlett and I are, yes..." Wren stared daggers at him. Go away!

"Oh, sorry!" he said, finally grasping the situation. "Your big date! Right! Brilliant idea. Cost-effective and romantic!"

Wren groaned inwardly but kept her composure. She got up and gripped Godfrey's shoulders, steering him back towards the door.

"Wait!" he protested. "I need to take notes on your setup!"

"I'll do you one better, Frey. I'll help you set it up the exact same way."

"Really?"

"Yes, now scoot!"

"All right, I'll come by your cabin later—"

"Nope, not tonight—"

"First thing tomorrow, then—"

"Midday at the earliest. Goodbye now!"

She shut the door.

"Sorry about that..."

"I thought he would relax now that he's got a girlfriend," Scarlett said.

"Enough about Frey," said Wren. "We're letting dinner get cold."

"Can't have that," Scarlett agreed, and soon, their plates were picked clean. They could hear the wind rustling softly through the trees below, crickets chirping, and the distant rush of water.

"I love the city at night," Scarlett said, "but I never get tired of this."

"Me, neither."

"So...I wanted to ask you something."

"Uh-oh..."

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad. I just wanted to know..." she paused, contemplating. "Should I make more of an effort?"

Wren cocked her head. "How do you mean?"

"I mean with us," Scarlett clarified. "Godfrey told me how lonely you were when I was in Carnivale. He said you were miserable, hanging around the radio, waiting for letters, that sort of thing."

Wren's cheeks burned. She didn't want Scarlett thinking of her as clingy. "Godfrey should mind his own business."

"Don't be mad at him—he was only doing what he thought was best. And I don't want you to think I was being malicious. Carnivale was my biggest assignment, and I just wanted to do a good job."

"I completely get it, you don't have to explain—"

"I know you need more from me: more time, more attention, more of an effort. And that's okay. I'm going to do that. I'm happy to do that. I just wish I'd heard it from you, not Godfrey."

"I tried, but I just felt needy. And stupid. I don't like feeling either of those things."

"I know."

Wren leaned across the table and put her hand against Scarlett's cheek.

"So," Scarlett murmured, "did you have anything else planned for this evening's activities? Because I can think of something..."

Wren smiled.

#

It was dark as Wren piloted the Dirty Countess over the mountain range, coasting low over the snow-capped peaks. She loved the feeling of the helm in her hands.

She leaned back in her seat and sighed, nestling her shoulders against the perfectly curved back. The Paragon had removed the lumpy old chairs with new, comfortable ones, and she was still getting used to all the upgrades.

Their ship still wasn't as smooth a ride as the Paragon's vessels, but Wren preferred it this way. She could feel the Dirty Countess rumble a little under her feet...its own way of breathing.

"Did you enjoy your romantic evening?" Titus asked, appearing on the ledge beside the helm.

Wren jumped in her seat. "Geez, you startled me."

"You should be used to it by now."

She baulked. "I am used to it. I just wasn't prepared this time! I came up here to take a moment for myself, and I didn't—" she stopped. "You know what? Never mind. Next time, make a sound or something, okay?"

"I can't help it," Titus sniffed. "I'm silent and deadly."

She chuckled. "I don't think that means what you think it means."

He ignored her. "You made an enemy of that Kipling fellow."

"You listened in, I take it?"

Titus preened, relishing his superior eavesdropping skills. "Of course."

"Good. Saves me catching you up." She picked at a nail. "Do you think I should've given him a chance?"

He took a moment before responding. "A fickle ally is rarely worth the risk."

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

"He did make one good point, though. You should learn how to be a mage. A proper one."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I thought you'd be the last person to say that." She felt relief—maybe part of her had been waiting for Titus's blessing.

"Why? You've been given an extraordinary gift. It wouldn't be right to let it go to waste. Besides," he flicked his tail, "better you than another Kipling."

"Yes, I am a superb choice," she joked, puffing out her chest.

"You have potential," he begrudgingly admitted. "But what's more, you have an excellent mentor."

"Oh?" she asked, feigning confusion. "Who?"

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"I agree, Titus. You're an excellent mentor."

"I know. But although I was created with magic, I've never wielded it myself. You should ask Orix to teach you."

Wren scoffed. "You want me to learn magic from a mage who hasn't used his own in years?"

"You need skill, wisdom, and empathy. Orix can teach you all three." Titus peered out the window, his eyes locked on the horizon. "And you shouldn't wait. I have a feeling you'll need your magic sooner than you think."

"What do you mean?"

"I just have a feeling."

Wren threw up her hands. "Always with the ominous statements..."

"The passage in the fog was never meant to be opened," he said carefully. "And now it's been opened twice."

Wren frowned. "Yeah...but none of the moraiths got through. Right?"

Titus didn't say anything.

There was a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Titus? The mages said the moraiths didn't get through. They said everything was fine."

"Yes...and the mages have never been wrong about something before, have they?" he said, letting the question hang heavy in the air.