Typically pain was a reminder to body that it yet lived. At the moment it seemed more like a terrible nuisance, prodding her in the sides. Like a needy foal the discomfort increased its attack on her slumber forcing her to subconsciously recognize she was desperately thirsty. Still, that was nothing, she would just relax ignore the troubles and sleep more. That’s when the talking started, as if it had never fallen silent in the first place.

.......................so you survived…................................................................................. I’ll never get used to this.
Gusty… ...........................................................Will I survive next time?............................How’s she doing?
..............................If I just trust my instincts….........................................................................no. trust me…

No longer in a state of panic she was able to finally discern who was speaking. There was the ‘not-her’ voice, her own voice, Zeccaran, and Bunker. It felt good to come to terms with the unearthly sounds but there was nothing she could do to control them as they rattled on asking many more indistinct questions, making unintelligible grunts. They had a rhythm to them that kept her relaxed compared to before. She actually felt a peace, the assault of her own mind rendered null by her state of being.

That issue, however, remained. She still had no idea if she was alive or dead. Clarity in this dark void had long ago been sucked away by the ethereal sensation of floating and relaxation. Most would say a relaxed mind blossomed with thought and understanding; she disagreed. More of the talking, the voices, came and went for an immeasurable but yet instant amount of time. Consumed eventually by pain and a sharp banging of some low type of drum in her head, there was no longer release, instead the annoyance became urgence.

Dull orange light overcame her eyes as she struggled to open them. The torch that cast the burning beams flickered enough to allow her to adjust to the brighter than pitch room. Barely, able to move she tenderly turned her head in an attempt to look somewhere besides the torch. Fresh waves of pain rocketed down her neck and into her chest making her squeak in surprise before she could bite her lips closed. She reflexively jerked too, causing little daggers of agony to stab into her left wing and stomach. Tensing and holding herself still with great effort she tired again to return to the posture she had been in while she slept. It proved futile, even the simple act of drawing breath caused her torment.

The sudden throbbing of her temples made her forget the rest of her body, and with her free right hoof she reached up massage her forehead. Her left was tethered to her chest and sternum probably to keep her from ripping off the rusty bandages that covered her body. The pounding in her skull reminded her of the rather sore, smarting protrusion that stuck out of it. She must have truly burned out her magic before blacking out.

Foolishly, Gusty came to the realization she was her. Her memory of the last few minutes of the fight remained fuzzy but everything else had come rushing back. Everything else came with her general sense of reckless abandon and obligation. She could not remain injured, incapacitated, inside some dark little room somewhere, hopefully, in Castle Manor. Ever determined, Gusty drew magic into her body to cast her sacred heal, hopefully before the influx of power knocked her back out. The magic welled up into her chest quickly, thankfully not causing her even the slightest twinge. It was not supposed to be able to hurt her but with the beating she sustained Gusty barely trusted herself to move much less use her powers.

With her healing magic readied she released her mental focus onto herself. She rejoiced silently as her chest and ribs stopped aching, thankful she could use this special magic without using her still quite sore horn. But she could get over that because of one reason: drawing in a deep breath Gusty exhales in a perfect long sigh. The scant few minutes she had spent writhing in discomfort and suffering had been more than enough for her. The simple act of breathing restored her, she was still stiff but the headache and worst of the pain had subsided entirely. She attempted to stretch her wings to find them bound with bandages. With her horn remaining tender she resorted to ripping them off with her mouth, as well as the sling that held her right hoof to her chest.

After several minutes of struggling, Gusty was free from the bonds. She was pleased to see her body mostly restored, feathers that had been burned the day before now back in place but perhaps a bit messy. The area on her chest where she had taken the crossbow bolt had returned to a healthy sheen of fur and flesh making a broad grin spread her lips. Few were the things that could keep her down, and this had not been one of them. She concentrated, planning on removing the pesky headache and the general stiff and sore extremities with more of her magic. She cast the spell again happy to spend as much of the special energy to catch the blissful high it gave when it was more than she needed to fix any injuries.

Delighted, as the sacred rite poured its power back into her Gusty let her mind wander. Oh, how other ponies would crave such a potent magic, how would they use it for personal gain. That was why it was given only to her, all those years ago, only those of pure heart and spirit could even learn the power, much less use it. She pondered the idea of teaching Amethyst or Celestia, it was something that warranted serious thought and she would return to it later. The blissful feeling of the healing art slowly faded away and, with fire rekindled, Gusty strode purposefully toward the door out ot the dank little room. She had no idea how long she had been incapacitated and it was time to find out.

Gusty tested her horn out by utilizing her levitation to open the door instead of pushing down on the handle manually. She smirked when everything felt totally normal, she felt like she could practically lift the whole of Castle Manor with her levitation, truth be told. She pushed the door open instead, it would not do to cause such a commotion. Glaring light and gasping ponies awaited her past the threshold of the room.

Two stallions had been guarding the room. One was suited in traditional Royal Guard gold, save a more decorative helmet and a orange half-cape. He was a unicorn, tall and broad. The other was dressed in the strange steel and bronze plate mail of a certain stallion’s personal soldiers. Conveniently a pegasus, a lithe slim fellow that had a seasoned look about him. Balking at their presence regardless, Gusty stood trying to reorganize her thoughts before the two fools started ordering her back into the room.

“My lady please, you should go back and get some rest.” the Royal Guard nodded barring her way. The other fool braced himself against the door frame taking up the rest of the space before adding: “Please, miss, it would be for your best interest and ours.”

Feeling particularly offended by their request, Gusty placed a forehoof on each of their breast plating before giving them a hardy shove. They did not lose their balance or topple away, but she moved them a short distance, enough to try to slip past without having to flatout bowl them over.

“I’ve had enough rest; and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of my way.” she grumble-growled. She desperately needed to see what had happened to the city, to see if everyone had survived.

The steel-clad fellow cast a wayward glance to the Royal Guard who returned his gaze briefly before nodding in a silent agreement to an equally silent question. They stepped away slowly each staying close to her as she moved into the hallway.

“You will have to accept our company” the Guard started as he caught the snide little raise of her lip, “for a short time. But, only until we are certain you are one-hundred percent of course.” He recovered well enough, but he clearly underestimated who he was dealing with.

“I’m just fine, I actually feel better than I did before the battle broke out. Now, please.” Gusty emphasized her words by extending her wings and forcing the two guards to back away from her. She would not be escorted around like she was some sort of defenseless maiden.

“Miss. We can follow you as loosely as you like, but our orders were clear: We are to maintain a constant vigil over you, regardless of circumstances, until it is determined you are able to fully function. And that is what we will do, whether or not you like it.” said the bold, reckless fellow, as much as Gusty expected him to be for a soldier of such ill-repute.

She loosed an angry groan. “Fine. Just don’t walk in front of me, or be anywhere where I can see you.” They both nodded at acknowledgement of her demand. Slipping past her field of vision and standing a distance behind her when she turned to give them a quick look. No longer hindered but fresh with the chills of somepony watching her, Gusty slowly plodded towards the end of the short hall. A different hall than where her room had been located, she was unsure if the door ahead of her was the way out. Ultimately, Gusty decided that it did not matter and she yanked the ironbound wood open with her magic. Before her a bustling ponies and Ovis hustled by the open door passing left to right in the grand corridor of the Long Hall.

Boldy pushing directly into the moving crowd Gusty began making her way toward the end of the hall that usually housed the throne. However, she saw ahead of her a different sight, thanks only to her height. Tables and charts filled with maps and figurines, but that was the least interesting of the scenery. Dozens of the steel-clad pony guards filled the area in a tight circle, accosting and examining anyone that got close. Inside that ring there were a mix of Royal Guards, both Equestrian and Baylandian. Gertrude remained nestled amongst them as she moved back and forth between different displays. Zeccaran was there too, staring at a pinned up schematic, and covered in what Gusty hoped was oil. Likewise Bunker was nearby, leaning from one set of hooves to the next, also as filthy, seemingly occupied with what his zebra counterpart was doing. Curiously, Gabriella was missing, vaguely, Gusty wondered if she did not have the stomach for the logistical portion of wartime politics.

Upon reaching the outer circle of guards, Gusty gave them a harsh scowl. The apparent commander of the group, a large unicorn fellow about the size of Bunker, gave a hoof motion to his nearby compatriots. The barrier of bodies parted enough for her to pass into the busy center of information. It closed only after her two shadows had made through as well, she would have to try harder to skip her security. However, her interest was taken by Gertrude who was busy grumbling over a map next to two slightly more decorated looking attendants; one stallion, one ram, mirroring the general population of Castle Manor at the moment.

“We hath use our element o’ surprise already” the old ewe mumbled looking at the detailed depiction of the Baylands.

“But dem pirates be cornered up here in the northern mines” the familiar bulky ram replied while pointing to the little double red flag on the map. “Without their flagship they are a poor enemy, milady. We should strike while the iron ‘tis hot!” cited wily MacGerson.

“I agree with the Jarl.” The unicorn stallion stated, his voice thick with a Canterlot-accent, “We can crush these brigands with a single blow if we move now.”

“But what ye both be forgettin’ is tha’ regular folk won’t tahk well to foreign military operating within our borders. Ye’s ponies’ help in securing our economy in our hour o’ need was enough for the lay-ram. Doing more would cause much in the way of civil unrest.” Gertrude paused. “It puts me in a foul position. I kennt mine clans need the help to oust the pirates completely, but I can’t use the help I gots, without having an uprising of mine own kin on me hooves!”

Sensing the perfect time to butt in, Gusty cleared her throat loudly, “Isn’t that what I’m here for?” She said rather coyly. Gertrude and her two attendants looked up the later pair showing only mild interest. The former made up for their lack enthusiasm by gaping jaw and wide eyes of shock and confusion.

“Gusty. Be mine eyes betraying me?” she whispered just over the bustle of the crowd.

“I don’t know why they would be. Unless somepony cast a rebellion spell on them!” Gusty smiled at her own ridiculous sarcasm. Gertrude fixated on her in response unable to move or blink. With an abrupt change, she flinched, before raising lip and brow in surprise. Her expression ended with blur that resulted in Gusty finding air beneath her hooves. Gertrude completed the tackled and jumped repeatedly on her chest and stomach.

“Ye crazy mare! Don’ ever scare me like that again!” she shrieked, her voice a shrill combination of squeaking a bleating. Gusty levitated Gertrude up to prevent getting beaten up all over again by her friend’s extreme excitement. The Dame’s screaming had drawn the attention of the gathered group and by the time Gusty had gotten off the ground, she was greeted by her two oil-covered companions.

“Gusty, you are alright!” Zeccaran and Bunker shouted both hugging her tightly. Her husband’s open affection she could handle. She had not been ready for Zeccaran to help him pounce her and almost knock her to the ground all over again. Feeling her cheeks flair red with embarrassment she looked away from her husband and friend. She spied Gertrude, still floating securely in her levitation, eyeing the situation with jealousy.

“Oh, come on Gerty.” she said lowering the Dame Ewe to the ground, “Group hug.” She jumped up and landed in the center of the ponies clinging to Gusty’s face and neck due to her diminutive stature compared to the majority of the group. They remained that way for a time, the crowd around them silent, waiting for them to finish. This just made Gusty feel more self-conscious and with the introspection came the voices again.

.................I can do this, I can do this...........................................................I promise: I'll help you get through this
You can’t trust him............................................................................................No! It’s the only way!
................................Welp, looks like we are going in. ................................................. Da!...........................
...............Because you helped me......................................................Why would you help me?

The cascade of words ended as quickly as they had come, but that fact did little to make Gusty feel better. She blinked a few times to make certain she was still in Castle Manor and not back in the twilight zone between life and death. Although she remained anchored in reality, the background hum of indistinct voices of both friends and enemies remained. Abscently still caught in the hug, Gusty wondered if they had always been there, and she could simply not hear them before. No matter what the answer was she would be forced to learn how to tune them out. The embrace of friends came to and end.

“Well, I guess you are doing better. We weren’t sure if you were gonna wake up, if you didn’t make it through today we were gonna send for Celestia to personally come.” Zeccaran said giving her a curious look. Bunker nodded neck to him, a huge grin brightening her husband’s face

“Aye! Nothin’ short o’miracle to see ye up and at’em! Even with tha’ magic o’ urs.” Gertrude concurred wiping tears from her eyes. The Dame adjusted a small little crown of silver that Gusty was fairly certain was being wore purely to distinguish her from her daughter. Either way it was the first time Gusty had seen here wear it and the head gear seemed almost out of place on the ewe. However, there were other matters to attend to: like ditching her new pair of shadows. She looked around the small gathering to find them standing next to one another as far from her as they could possibly be.

“Alright you two! Come here.” she shouted to the two guards. They headed instantly, before she had even asked them to come over. Once the reached her she continued: “As you can see I’m doing just fine. I’m surrounded by my friends and family and you can stop following me around: no matter how short of a time you had been doing it!” she declared.

Instead of the two answering her demand she was interrupted by Zeccaran and Bunker

“Stiff Inspection?!” “Captain Garrison?!” they yelled respectively, in unison.

The two oil covered fools then proceeded to ask their individual compatriots when they got here, why they were guarding her, and then turned to look at each other in genuine confusion. Seemingly aware they had simultaneously made idiots of themselves, they just stood waiting for answers before slowly backing up closer to Gusty.

“To answer your question, Sir Bunker: by order of her Royal Highness Princess Celestia I was sent with specific orders to ensure the safety of Gusty Twilight until such times as she fully recovered, then I was to deliver her this message.” He paused to clear his throat before turning to make eye-contact with her. “The Princess wishes you well and says that while she expected you to stir up a bit of trouble for the pirates she did not expect you to become so egregiously injured in the process. She expresses regret that she was unable to help tend to your wounds personally, and recommends you take higher degrees of caution now that you have recovered. Not that she expects to persuade you.” he concluded.

It was definitely a message from her friend. Had it not been for a change of pronouns Gusty might have thought Celestia was playing a rather bad joke by enchanting her voice to sound like a stallion’s. Satisfied, she nodded approvingly to Captain Garrison, who saluted in response before dropping into a more relaxed posture. Bunker motioned to his friend in a way that expressed that they would catch up later. Gusty smiled at her husband’s prioritization of her, he still had to tell her what had happened after she blacked out. There was just one more obstacle, and she turned to face him.

“Guess it’s my turn then?” He said with a tone so intentionally dry it sounded like he was mocking her.

“Get on with, stallion. I do not have time for your employer’s games.” Gusty scowled at Stiff Inspection.

“He said you would say that.” The parched rhythm of his voice disappearing with a cocky grin. Gusty let out an angry groan, even on a different continent that demonic asshole managed to annoy her.

“Anyway I have a letter here,” Stiff Inspection said pulling a metal parchment tube from his armor and pulling a scroll out.

“I’m not going to re-”

“I know; he said you would refuse... so I have to read it.” the messenger stallion chuckled again. He was accompanied by a small giggle from Bunker. Gusty turned on her husband, staring daggers into his soul.

“What!?” He proclaimed starting to outright laugh. “Is funny. Stormwind always one step ahead of you, da?” Gusty just scowled harder doing her best to ignore Zeccaran making small squeaking noises behind her which was the zebra’s way of concealing his most intense laughter, she did not dare turn to see his face. A brief moment of clarity struck Gusty, that though she was being made a laughingstock, the background murmurs were much easier to ignore when she was having a moment with her closest companions. Now if only getting embarrassed did not suck quite as much as it did. Another clearing of a throat brought her full attention back to Stiff Inspection.

“Dear Gusty Twilight.-- I find your reckless behavior most unappealing. How daft a mare are you? Only a total moron would have charged so foolheartedly into death. You should have known better. If you could not even hit me the lowliest of creatures when I am unarmed and unprepared; how do you expect to defeat well-armed and ready opponents? Perhaps next time you should think before you act. You were lucky to survive, I was not there to pull you out of trouble like the last time you bit off more than you could chew. Be a dear and refrain from such foolish actions in the future would you? -- His Eminence Lord Stormwalker of Cloudsdale”

Gusty flat out growled. She lifted the pegasus delivering the filth-rag-ramble to her in her magic. He did not struggle and instead merely looked over the edge of the parchment with mild annoyance.

“Ma’am, first of all, don’t shoot the messenger. Second, I’m not done.” The Stiff said.

“You think I’m going to sit here and listen to this dribble for one more second you have another thing coming!” She started to telekinetically slam him into the ground when Zeccaran gave her a shove.

“Stop that. He’s just doing his job.” he grumbled at her. Gusty cast an angry glare at him, no one ever understood the gravity of the disdain she had for Stormwalker. And the fact that everyone else was merrily going along with this nonsense only made her angrier. Circumstances and a lack of the demon in front of her however stayed her hooves and mellowed the righteous fury enough to keep her from harming somepony who had nothing to do with her frustration, directly. She gave a sharp nod to Stiff Inspection to continue before setting him down.

“Pee. Ess.” he continued as if he had never stopped reading in the first place. “I am extremely amused by how upset you have become Gusty. I hope you realize the sarcasm in the main message, I just so enjoy ruffling your feathers. Please stay safe and I am overjoyed you are doing well. -- Loyally yours Gee. Ey. Stormwalker.” The messenger then proceeded to crumple up the parchment and throw it in Gusty’s general direction.

“I’ll catch ya later, Zec, sometime when the company is a little less hostile.” he said as he strode away.

“Yeah, just come by the airship after dinner tonight!” Zeccaran called after him. Stiff Inspection gave a nod over his shoulder before slipping out of the guarded area. Gusty felt her jaw drop a cold chill of shock traveling quickly up her spine.

“D-did you say...airship?” She asked Zeccaran tentatively. He nodded with a mumbled yes of confirmation. “What? It didn’t actually work did it? Tell me I'm still comatose in my room.” She pleaded with him.

“Uhm...you’re back in your room comatose? And I definitely haven’t been restoring a very damaged Eyrie-class warship for the last ten days?” he gingerly responded, his voice spiralling up in tone until it was almost just a squeak.

“I’ve been out for ten days!?” She shouted while the gathered group just nodded stiffly back to her. Gusty reach a hoof up to her mane and stroked it nervously. It was no wonder why Gertrude had tackled her or why Zeccaran and Bunker only could smile and hug her. Stuck still by the realization Gusty barely registered Gertrude speaking to Jarl MacGerson and the Royal Guard from before.

“Madam Dame, we hate to interrupt but,” The guard started, “Important plans await ye’s choosin’.” finished the ram.

“Aye, aye, aye...just a moment then. I hath one last bit to tell Gusty.” She said. “Oi! Gusty lass! Snap out of it!” Gertrude shouted pulling Gusty the rest of the way out of her stupor with a clap of her hooves.

“Wha-what?” she whimpered rubbing her temples before looking down at the ewe.

“It seems ye have a not-so-secret admirer.” Gertrude snickered up to her. The golden fleece of the ewe sparkling in the overtly lit planning area as she shook from contained laughter. Gusty curled a lip up in revulsion, she was not about to go there.

“An’ I don’t kennt what ye think, bu’ if I weres-ye I would take advantage of such-a situation especially if he be soft for yeh.” her past-daughter murmured. Gusty glowered at Gertrude; the mischievous little ewe had went there. She closed her eyes and tried to sigh strong enough to lower her stress, unsuccessfully.

“First of all: Bunker is right here.” She reinforced by literally slapping a hoof onto her husband’s withers. He responded with a curt nod and a grunt towards Gertrude, it was likely played up for her benefit, Bunker was good to her in that regard. She released another long breath trying to make her tone sound less furious than it was truly. “Second: Are you suggesting I be...unfaithful.” she simmered. The word nearly burned her tongue as she said it.

Gertrude gave her a careful squinty scrutinizing look, leaning up towards Gusty’s face as far as the smaller individual could. Upon reaching the very end of her hooves the ewe broke her gaze and burst into a short fit of laughter before recovering, wiping her eyes.

“No! Never! Ye be thinkin’ I was suggestin’ something ill!” she snickered still calming down. “I merely suggesting, no, I’mma tellin’ ya: That stallion would do anythin’ for ya iffan-a ya just ask.” Gertrude bleated still shaking from her wide smile. “An’ a little flirtin’ never hurt!” she started to laugh fully again.

Gusty pursed her lips thickly and decided that trying to stare at her forehead was a better use of her frustration than tongue lashing Gertrude. How could she blame her past-daughter for not seeing through Stormwalker’s facade? He had fooled everyone else besides her, and Zeccaran she supposed; even Bunker seemed to at least enjoy the rampant demon’s dry, unfair sense of humor. Thus Gusty continued to trying to catch a glimpse of her face without a mirror out of sheer spite at the thought of him.

“Well.” Gertrude said after a moment, “Thanks for the laugh mum. Bu’ the powers that be demand mine attention. I’m sure these two fools will glady fill you in on what happened at tha’ soiree ye crashed.” With that said the Dame Ewe turned and left. Gusty stood there idly attempting to re-rail her train of thought back to what had happened after she had blacked out. Anything was better than fixating on her chief nemesis anyhow. Around her the bustle of ponies and Ovis increased and the clopping of hooves and the murmuring of voices became louder. The effect made it harder to ignore her underlying current of unease and mental background chatter. Eventually, several moments longer than it should have taken, Gusty turned to look at Zeccaran and Bunker.

“You doing okay?” Zeccaran asked, as he unconsciously rubbed some oil from his face. “You look a little spacey.” Gusty nodded more in agreement to his statement

“Yeah I’m okay.” she responded dully. She wanted to be strong and ignore the tugging fear from her mind. But, somewhere there was a part of her that knew she was not alright, and that even though she could survive it, her symptoms would only get worse. Gusty quashed that tiny little thought into oblivion, banishing it deep into a place she could not hear it.

“So what the heck happened anyway?” she asked, pushing herself forward. “Did we really capture the airship?”

Clearly sensing it was his moment to shine Zeccaran puffed up his chest and even stepped toward her some. “Yes. Yes we did. And I saved you from falling to your death!” he proclaimed. Gusty just returned his declaration with a raise eyebrow and a cocky grin.

“Yeah right. I’ll bet Bunker did it.” she retorted.

“Bunker can’t fly. I can turn into a giant eagle.” the zebra deadpanned back unwilling to play ball. “In fact besides you, I’m the only one in the entire country of the Baylands that isn’t a pirate that can fly.” Gusty gave Zeccaran a long disbelieving look more to frustrate her companion than to question him. She was as interested in the story as continuing to push the zebra’s buttons. Cocking her head to the side, Gusty blinked rapidly at him causing Zeccaran to expunge an exasperated breath.

“Anyway.” he grumbled as he pinched his eyes shut. He looked up bags evident under his eyes that Gusty had not noticed before. “I had been chasing you across the deck when you took the crossbow bolt to the chest. I was literally right behind you when you went berserk.” he shuddered.

“Da! It was crazy! The very air was electric-fied!” Bunker chimed in his eyes wide and sparkling as if he was reliving a cherished memory. “I had not seen such a display of power. You are true warrior, wife.” He gave her a very proud hug. Gusty squeezed him back for a time to hide the small blush the compliment gave her.

“Well, did I hit anyone?” she asked Zeccaran from over her husband’s shoulder.

Zeccaran paused and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling in a strained look of concentration. “Yeah…you actually managed to down one of his lieutenants. You didn’t knock him out, rather just blew a wing off. I don’t know what type of magic you were casting but what looked like stunbolts were more like beams of explosive energy. You even blew a sizable hole in the aerial-tug they were using to escape.” he answered.

“It was incredible! Was like fury of righteous angel!” Bunker concurred breaking off the hug and almost too enthusiastically keeping his hooves on her shoulders.

“Wow...I didn’t know I did that at all! I guess the lieutenant is dead then? If that didn’t kill him the fall probably would have.” she mused rather beside herself. She knew she stopped holding back there right at the end of consciousness but the thought of herself firing stunbolts strong enough to rip apart flesh and metal was unsettling.

“Yeah, he is dead, but he didn’t die because of you.” Zeccaran answered.

“What?!” Gusty was completely shocked. There was no way a griffon could have flown to safety after having a wing tore off by magic. They were simply too heavy.

“Yeah he managed to glide down and fall into a bailing cart. He was promptly captured.” her friend answered.

“Then what happened?” she asked.

“It was right after you hit that guy that you took the bolt to the wing that knocked you out. Luckily I was watching from the deck and when you started to fall I was able to transform into an eagle again. I dove and caught you at pretty much the last second. Dislocated both of my shoulders doing so, but you lived. A couple of soldiers helped me stabilize you and put my joints back in place. Then between me, Dame Gertrude, and a local doctor we managed to remove the bolts and not kill you in the process. Trouble was you had taken a couple blows to the head during the fight and we weren’t really sure how well you’d fair in the long run since you never did wake up until today.” Zeccaran concluded.

Gusty took a moment to process all that had been said. Lacking the proper preparation for such a harrowing tale about herself, she had to work through the blur of the battle and injuries she had repaired with magic not an hour ago to make sure it had happened. However, It could explain why she felt incredibly hungry and why her mouth was sticky and dry.

“Hey! That’s right! You be more careful! It would bring me great dishonor if wife dies.” Bunker said in the most scolding voice Gusty had ever heard him use. “And worse...it would make me cry! Me a warrior of the Great forest!” he added nuzzling her. Gusty felt bad at first but shooed him away after he kept nuzzling, she liked displays of affection but that was enough. In truth, she cherished Bunker’s concern and would simply have to reward him later, he would appreciate it.

“Then what happened to that Griffon then if he was alive?” as she scooted closer to her husband for the simple approval of his bodily contact.

“Well...somehow...in the midst of an interrogation that Gertrude and Gabriella were conducting he started spasming. He was quickly foaming at the mouth and bleeding from his eyes, and was very dead. Someone poisoned him somehow. It was an inside job for sure and frankly as far as I’m concerned the only two real suspects, dare I say, are Gertrude and Gabriella themselves. No one had access to his cell except them, that we know of, and since security was tightened after what happened with the anti-balloon cannons I can’t imagine a spy having slipped through, short of being invisible or a changeling.” he said with shake of his head. “And the odds of those two things are pretty low, especially with Stormwalker’s personal troops here.”

His words left a cold terrible ache in Gusty’s stomach like she had been stabbed with a frozen knife. “There is no way Gertrude would do that.” she said coming to terms with the other options, knowing already which she was picking.

“I think maybe I’ll talk about that later. We are being watched.” she said quietly.

“Uh..okay?” Zeccaran responded. “So what are we going to do now then?”

“Food!” Bunker nearly yelled. Gusty swooned at her husband, he knew exactly what she needed.

“Bunker’s right. I need to eat, then we can come back and help Gertrude, whether its toppling the pirates or getting to the bottom of this conspiracy I don’t care.” Gusty announced her agreement.

“You are just now thinking about the conspiracy? Didn’t you think it was odd that as soon as we got here were almost killed by a bomb!?” Zeccaran shrieked at her. The area fell silent as Rams, Guards, and Cronies all turned to look at the group. Gusty just levitated her zebra companion up into the air and put one of his ear to her mouth.

“I don’t know. I can’t know until I eat. I’m literally starving, now come on!” She glowered into his ear. Message received Zeccaran fell silent, Gusty left the planning area for the nearest smell of food. Bunker followed humming rather merrily beside her as she carried their fifth wheel behind them.Zeccaran definitely had a point but for now it would have to wait.

Next Chapter: Act 2: Chapter 10 - Diplomatic Immunity Estimated time remaining: 16 Hours, 16 Minutes