"I'll relieve Tonya," the captain said as he poured himself a cup of tea.

Well, not poured, Clarissa reflected. The captain was holding a turkey baster over what looked like an old-timey water skin, inflating it with tea. It was as strange a sight as anything she had seen on this voyage full of oddities.

She and everyone else in the room were sitting around one of the tables, carefully snacking on a plate of biscuits Leslie provided. The plate was current in a slow spin, about two inches off the table, and the food tucked into a small sheet of burlap that had been tacked around the plate.

"Imagine you'll want to scout for other ships," Mercy said, moving to stand up.

"I'll take the controls on the top deck. I don't expect any trouble on this side of the Ruins. Frankly doubt we'll see another ship before we reach Idlewind," the captain said as he capped the water-skin. "But this voyage has involved more surprises than I'm comfortable with. Think I'd rather see the next one coming."

"So you can decide at your leisure what kind of shot to load the Banshee with?" Mercy asked.

"Exactly," the captain said. He attached the water-skin to his belt, reached over the table, and took a biscuit. "I'll call if I see anything, but unless Corsairs took to ambushing ships on the far side of the Ruins, where ships never go, we should see open skies until Idlewind."

"Sounds good, captain. Stay warm out there," Mercy said.

The captain stepped out the door and moved towards the bridge, out of sight.

Clarissa turned back to the table where Yannick and Leslie were staring intently at a group of four blocks set in the air between them. Yannick has another block in his hand, and he reached out with it, and carefully set another block out to join the others.

"What are you playing?" Clarissa asked.

Leslie took a block out of the bag and extended it to Clarissa. "Old Wayfarer game called Ba'Tal. We take turns adding blocks to a shape, and the person to ruin it by knocking the blocks away loses."

Clarissa took the blocks and looked them over. They were well-sanded wooden squares, simple and unadorned. While she looked, a meaty finger appeared at the top of the bag and pointed down. "It's your turn," Leslie said.

Clarissa nodded and took out a block. "Anywhere on it?" She asked.

"Anywhere," Yannick agreed.

Clarissa extended the block to the stack and tried to put another block to meet the end of the row. But she tapped the group with her block and sent them drifting towards Leslie.

"Trick is to leave the block as close as you can without actually touching the rest," Leslie said as he scooped up the blocks Clarissa had knocked away.

Clarissa nodded and left her block in the air. "Shall we start over?"

Yannick nodded and set a block next to hers. Leslie went next, and in a succession of a dozen quick turns were well on their way to building a strange, twisting edifice. As Clarissa tried to add a block into a small crevice, she was startled when Tonya stepped inside and sat down.

"So, since we're off duty, who wants to drink?" Tonya asked.

"We have tea," Mercy said, and she set the last glass beside Tonya. "If you want something stronger, you'll have to wait until we reach Idlewind."

"Mercy just ain't fond of drinking games," Tonya explained, emphasizing her point by prodding Clarissa in the ribs just as she was trying to set her block. She knocked their drifting edifice hard enough that it broke in half and spun about as pieces broke off and drifted away.

"Rather not have my crew pickled when an opportunistic corsair tries to take the Child," Mercy retorted. "Which is why we don't stock ale on board."

"What about rum? We should have rum in board," Tonya insisted. "Being pirates and all."

"We ain't pirates. Reckon the Captain will leave you at Idlewind you tried getting us into piracy," Mercy retorted.

"I'd have rum," Tonya grumbled.

"Well, I have a game we could play," Anita said. Clarissa turned to see the engineer was already back in the kitchen and had pulled out a large pickling jar. "A drinking game, but with this, we might actually get answers out of Tonya."

"Hey, I'm a woman of deep and profound mysteries," Tonya insisted. "Which don't stay deep and profound if divulge them."

"You're a woman who forgets that 'answer or drink' has an option other than drink," Anita retorted.

"Consciousness is meant to be improved upon," Tonya replied. She scowled as she pointed at the jar in Anita's hands. "You don't really expect us to drink that, do you?"

"Answer or drink," Anita gloated. She took the cups off the table and set them nearby, filling them with the turkey baster. "Rules are pretty simple that way, and since this is just vinegar flavoured with garlic and dill, there's no excuse keeping either of our youngest crew members from participating. We go round the table, you can ask someone something. Whoever you ask can either answer or drink. Only other rule is a question can't be asked of the same person twice."

"Do I have to play?" Yannick asked.

"No," Mercy said simply.

"I'll play," Clarissa said. "Though since I'm new, I worry I'll be asked questions a lot."

"If that starts happening, I'll step in," Mercy replied. "Yannick, you sticking with us for this?"

"I, well, I'll stay," Yannick said quietly.

Clarissa smiled at him, trying to be encouraging. She was relieved, and a little concerned, by having someone roughly her own age at the table.

"So," Tonya said. The Child's pilot leaned forward and set one of the oddly shaped little cups in front of Clarissa. The brine smell was strong enough that she nearly sneezed. Tonya smiled at her the way a cat smiled at something it planned on eating. "Clarissa, because Yannick will never work up the nerve to ask, ever kissed a boy before?"

Leslie and Anita both burst into laughter. Clarissa could feel the blood rush to her face, and her gaze fell to her hands, which were now wrapped around the strange tea cup. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Yannick had his hands in his face.

Clarissa took a deep breath, met Tonya's gaze, and lifted the cup to her lips. The juice hit her sinuses like someone had kicked her in the nose, and she wanted to both cough and sneeze at the same time. But she drank it with her eyes open, glaring at Tonya, until the cup was empty.

The others cheered, and even Tonya raised her teacup in a mock salute. "Oh ho, that was bold," Mercy said, and she clapped her hands a few times. "I like it. Now, since it's my turn and we already brought up the subject of boys. Tonya, how many port boys have you accumulated by now?"

Anita and Leslie both made mocking calls, while Clarissa leaned over to Mercy and asked, "What's a port boy?"

"A boy you visit at port to have fun with. We call them port boys because real men are mariners," Mercy replied.

Tonya began by counting on one hand, muttering to herself as she went. "What's his name in Caffelton, the twins in..." she muttered, trailing off when she looked up and realized everyone was staring at her. She grinned, fixed Clarissa with a mocking grin, and drank the brine with ease.

"Your turn, kid," Tonya said as she set her teacup down.

"Mercy, why is this ship called The Ravens' Child?" Clarissa asked.

Mercy scowled, picked up her glass, and drank it.

"Which means you know and won't tell me," Clarissa said, nodding her head.

"Perhaps," Mercy replied. "Yannick, you're up."

"Clarissa," Yannick said. Clarissa shivered at how he said her name, and suddenly felt very young as he stared at her intently. She was very afraid of what he might ask her. "Do they have astronomy classes at the Monastery?"

Clarissa sighed in both delight and relief, and was laughing a little as she answered. "Oh, we do. Part of what I'm looking forward to, being at the shield, is being able to see the stars."

Yannick smiled wistfully and looked at her with an inscrutable expression. "I'd like to see that someday," he admitted.

"Anita," Leslie said. Clarissa and the others turned to the engineer. "Do you own a dress?"

Anita sputtered and let go of her half-eaten biscuit. She looked from Mercy to Tonya, then to Leslie, and asked, "why is that a question? Why in the sky would you want to know that?"

Leslie didn't respond, but stared at her impassively with one raised eyebrow. Still as a statue, he stared at Anita until she waved her hands in defeat. "Yes," she admitted. "I own a dress. Reckon you'll never see the colour with questions like that."

Anita glanced down at her cup, and a smile began to creep across her face. Clarissa couldn't see any humour in it. "So, big man, why did you ask me about the dress?"

Slowly, Leslie lifted his cup to his lips, barely fitting two of his massive fingers around the handle, and slowly drank the brine.

Tonya and Mercy laughed, and even Yannick was smiling, though he looked as if he wondered if he was allowed to. Mercy refilled Leslie's cup, as Tonya leaned forward and looked at Leslie. "Let's see if I can't help out Anita. Leslie, despite losing your title, does that last name of yours still get you into the Rising Sunward Festival?"

"I have a standing invitation," Leslie admitted. Tonya waited, as did everyone else, to see if he'd elaborate. But as the silence stretched on, Mercy eventually waved the issue off by leaning forward and pointing at Clarissa.

"So, Clarissa, what does the shield do?" Mercy asked.

Clarissa could feel the weight of the collective attention of everyone else in the room. Yannick looked thrilled, Anita and Leslie were both leaning forward, and Tonya was rubbing her lips with her thumb, looking thoughtful.

Clarissa thought back to what she knew of the Shield, which was precious little. Only that it was appropriately named, and that it drifted beyond the sky. She didn't want to reveal anything, and began to think of how much she could say to satisfy the question.

But one look at Mercy, who wore those same cold eyes she had when she interrogated Clarissa in the service duct, and she remembered she had one other answer to give. One that would silence this line of questions. She raised the glass to her lips, and drank.

The taste made her eyes water this time, and she coughed into her sleeve just after she finished. Several groans came from the group, and Yannick looked a little disappointed, but Mercy smiled approvingly as she refilled Clarissa's cup.

"My turn?" Yannick asked. The navigator's gaze was fixed on her, unflinching even as his curls drifted across his eyes. Clarissa had an odd urge to reach over and push his hair to the side. "Clarissa, if you could visit, anyplace beneath the sky, where would it be?"

A chorus of teasing calls sounded from the others. Clarissa blushed and wrung her hands together for a moment. "Vol Ayre," she admitted eventually. "I already promised Vol Ayre I would visit."

Anita set one finger on the handle of Yannick's cup and put her other hand on his shoulder. "So, colour me curious, but why did you ask that?" She asked.

Yannick looked down at his cup, looked at Anita for a fleeting moment, and back down at the table again. He opened his mouth as if about to answer, but instead reached for Anita's cup, picked it off the table, and drank from it.

"The boy's gotten bold," Leslie remarked. He had a smile on his face, but he studied Yannick as if the navigator wasn't the same person he had known. "Dust off the shyness, and we find your spine is made of iron."

Leslie then turned to Mercy and frowned. "LT, I always meant to ask, is Mercy actually the name you were born with?"

The room grew quiet. Both Anita and Tonya leaned forward and stared without blinking, and even Yannick looked like he was about to unearth a new discovery. Mercy, however, was slowing with displeasure, and her hands were wrapped around the cup of brine.

"I picked it. The same day I put this on my face. I've only used that name once since then," Mercy replied solemnly, and one hand tapped the scar on the side of her face. She set her hand back down on the table, and looked to each member of the crew in turn, as if daring them to find the answer unsatisfactory.

When no one replied, Mercy turned her gaze to Clarissa, and smiled in a rather predatory way. "So, Clarissa, I noticed the others have been calling you 'kid' without challenge. But you were about ready to demand swords to first blood when I used the word. What changed?"

"You know it's my turn, LT?" Tonya asked.

"I jumped the cue. Officer's prerogative," Mercy replied, though her eyes never moved from Clarissa. "What changed?"

Clarissa could feel the pressure from Mercy's forceful attention, and the hands on her cup actually trembled. She didn't even consider drinking. "I, uh, I'm learning that I really am a kid still, in this company. I've seen you all tackle dangers that I never imagined I'd see in my life. It's amazing."

Clarissa felt her face flush, and she bowed her head. "You're all amazing."

"Aw, kid, don't get all serious on us like this," Anita said, and she reached across the table to jab Clarissa in the shoulder. "Captain's going to think we're actually bonding, rather than just wasting time drinking while he does all the work."

"And Clarissa," Leslie said, and the earnestness in his voice drew every other eye to him. "I need to apologize to you."

Clarissa blinked, confused. "Uh, why?"

"Rather suspect I frightened you while I was on the Banshee. Not my proudest hour, captain had to put some effort into reigning me in," Leslie admitted. "Truth of the matter, I lost my family to a pirate raid, skimmers same as the ones we saw in the forest. Those noises still make me see red."

"But you don't need to apologize. It was scary, seeing you like that, but," Clarissa trailed off, uncertain about what she could say.

"Nevertheless. You're journeying from your home for the first time, scared and alone. Deserved better from me than grim wrath and red rage. And I'm sorry for failing you then," Leslie said.

"Thank you. I mean it. It hasn't felt at all like home, but it's been an adventure so far. And I've enjoyed it," Clarissa said.

"Just for that," Tonya said, rapping the table with her knuckles, and leaning forward. "I'm putting in a new rule about serious questions. Don't do them. I'm here to drink, dammit."

"You're drinking pickle juice out of a teacup," Anita remarked.

"Well, I can't actually drink right now, since the captain is a vicious, cruel demon of a man who doesn't know how to have fun," Tonya complained. She grinned and pointed at Clarissa. "Though I'm gong to break my no-seriousness rule this one time, kid, and give you a hint about that vexing problem of yours. The captain once mentioned a 'Professor Nuncia', taught grammar and literacy in that Monastery of yours. Still true?"

"Yes, it is," Clarissa said. "Was that your question?"

"No. My question, kid, is about her lessons about the proper term for a group of things. Like how crows come in a murder, pride of lions, flock of ducks, that sort of thing," Tonya said.

"It's flock for ducks if they're flying. Raft if they're on a pond," Yannick added.

"Like that. My question, Clarissa," Tonya said, and she leaned forward. "What do you call a group of ravens?"

Clarissa took a drink from her cup, since she didn't have an answer.