The Edgewise will keep it in check, the Edgewise will keep it in check.

The mantra played on repeat as Calponia stitched. To her credit, Cesario held herself still as stone, leaning over the bar so there was plenty of light to work with. It wasn't until Calponia glanced up halfway through the process she realized this was because the cross dresser was unconscious.

"Damn," muttered Calponia, refocusing on her task. She kept her ears peeled for any odd noises but the common room of the Edgewise was quiet, not even the soft snores of the Munch to provide ambience.

"Too deep for a simple stitch up," said a husky voice two inches from her ear.

Calponia squeaked, dropped the needle and rocked back in a move that made her sense of self preservation weep. The back of her head collided with a chin, resulting in a solid crack and a stream of swears that made her ears turn red.

Her shoulders sank as she peeked up at the sputtering pirate captain rubbing his chin. The deepening bruise was already visible through his manicured facial scruff. She'd nailed him good.

"I'm so sorry, Captain, you were too damn quiet," she blurted.

He glared at her before his gaze took on a more speculative bent. His eyes gave her the once over before he gave her a swarmy grin. Utterly incorrigible, completely inappropriate for the situation, and just the thing she needed to deflate the balloon of panic in her chest. She gave a half hearted laugh but it was a laugh nonetheless, the vice of panic and fear dispersing to its usual background murmur. Captain Ravelock's brows rose in a true double take at her reaction. He absently rubbed his bruised chin.

"That laugh is good for a man's soul, dove," he said, eyes smoldering in a way that made her skin tingle. Calponia shook herself out it, far too aware of herself to be caught up by a charming pirate, particularly the one in front of her.

"If it's too deep for a simple stitch, what do you suggest Captain?"

Ravelock continued to look at her with a bemused expression. "What's too deep, dove?"

Calponia pursed her lips, wondering if she accidentally knocked his senses loose. "Cesario's wound," she said, gesturing to the steadily bleeding gash dripping on the floor. "Preferably before she bleeds to death?"

A blush tinged the captain's ears pink as he snapped out of whatever odd daze he'd entered. "Right, yes, you'll want to slap on a bit of paste from that tube," he said, clearing his throat a few times as he settled onto the stool at her back.

"This?" Calponia gingerly plucked at the tube in question, entirely squicked out by its noticeable warmth in the somewhat chilly common room. Her reaction intensified as she uncapped it, the thick sulfuric scent of spoiling eggs pouring from the innocuous tube. No, these were past spoiled. These eggs were so bad they incited anarchy. Eyes watering, she hastily recapped it, resisting the urge to do violence as the captain chuckled behind her.

"Aye, that one lass. It smells like the arse of dead whale but it will fix her up right quick," said the captain as he leaned over the bar to fish through the open bottles of whiskey. He drew back clutching an ancient bottle with a crow of triumph. "Ah, there's the good stuff."

"That looks rather valuable," said Calponia. The pirate caught her eye with a wink.

"I won't tell if you don't," he grinned, "shame to drink on an empty stomach though."

Calponia gasped, slapping her hands against her cheeks before she thought better of it, leaving streaks of red like war paint across her cheekbones. "My stew!" She tumbled off the stool, narrowly avoided crashing into another table, and took out an innocent coat rack as she spun back to the Captain. "Could you apply the paste? If it's not ruined, I have some stew for you. I'll fix you something even if it isn't," she stipulated after his worried glance at the kitchen. Not waiting for his reply she rushed for the kitchen, leaving the bemused pirate alone with Cesario.

"Not sure I feel comfortable with our little dove in there with all those knives and potential for fire," the captain told his unconscious companion. He sighed, giving the dusty bottle of whiskey a regretful glance before uncapping the paste. "Worse than a kraken's breath," he muttered, smearing it over Cesario's leg wound and the obvious gouge in her side. With a fixed scowl, he finished the stitch work, muttering to himself about how he got into these situations, as he ruined a bar towel to rid the foul gunk from his fingers. After all that he needed a drink and was helping himself to one as Calponia eased out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl on a tray, her steps slow and measured to keep her balance.

"Thank goodness, someone turned down the heat. The vegetables were a bit overcooked but it's not burnt!"

Ravelock warily eyed the concoction as she set it down in front of him, a thick brown gravy with colorful flotsam. He'd seen the girl in action and could only guess how knackered he would have to be to choke down the concoction when the smell hit him between the eyes, overriding the rotten egg scent of the paste and the welcoming sting of the whiskey.

"Sweet saints of glory," he murmured, staring in wonder at the brown lumpy substance. Another heavenly whiff teased his nostrils as saliva pooled in his mouth. Tentatively he lifted a spoonful to his mouth as Calponia fussed with Cesario.

It was a stroke of good fortune he was already sitting as his legs bowed. He clutched the counter, unable to bite back the moan as he swirled the delectable broth over his tongue.

"Um, are you alright?" Calponia asked him. His fortune continued as Cesario regained consciousness, sparing him from babbling like a fool.

"I feel as if the mouths of Hell gargled my body and spat me out," groaned the trollop. She winced at the odious paste on her leg but looked relieved to see it. "Ambrosia gel? Goodness Mack really does keep a rare stock. I thank you, my lady."

Calponia held up her hands, looking sheepish. "Don't thank me, the Captain told me about it, applied it himself." She frowned. "Ambrosia gel? Really? It smells like the inside of a dead dog."

Cesario's brows crept upward as she looked at the Captain, blinking at the rather absurd expression on his face. "Yes, well it's better you don't know exactly where it comes from. Thank you for your assistance Captain....are you well?"

Captain Ravelock nodded through the tears streaming down his face. Calponia shook her head, pouring both of them a glass from the dust covered whiskey bottle as she looked up at the ceiling. "I hope Mack's okay up there."

"If anyone can help Prospero, it's Mack," said Cesario after a sip of drink. The rafters creaked. "And the Edgewise," amended the transvestite, raising her glass to the ceiling. "Lord of the Sun, I'm fair famished. What is that delectable odor?"

"Stew! Let me get you some," said Calponia, tripping over a stool and correcting herself before she smashed her face into the bar. A panicked expression passed over Cesario's face as the tavern wench disappeared into the kitchen.

"She cooked? Without supervision?" Cesario glanced up, startled to find Ravelock in her face, his eyes wide as he gripped her hand

"Shut your gob and eat every drop," he said, returning to his own bowl with a soft groan.

Cesario was still flabbergasted by the pirate's behavior when Calponia returned with another serving. She gave her friend a weak smile. "It certainly smells delightful," she admitted before gingerly putting a spoonful in her mouth. The instant it hit her tongue she was grateful for the bar in front her as she lost her grip on reality for a moment.

"What is wrong with you two," muttered Calponia, wiping down the bar before the smell informed her she'd smeared Ambrosia gel all over. She glared at Ravelock. "You couldn't use your pants?"

"And ruin a perfectly good outfit?' Ravelock gestured to his tattered leggings, which on closer inspection, Calponia realized were purposely ripped like designer jeans. She opened her mouth for a scathing rebuttle when the door admitted an exhausted looking Eugene.

The vampire shuffled in two steps before he reared back, clapping a hand over his nose. "Was somebody murdered?"

"Shit," said Calponia, rushing for the mop. Ravelock caught her as she pitched forward, narrowly avoiding a faceplant into the pool of blood. Calponia sighed as she righted herself. "I'll clean it up in a moment."

Eugene gave an awkward shuffle, not meeting her eye as he tied a handkerchief over his mouth and nose. "I'll take care of it."

Not to be deterred and wishing for a moment to confer with the vampire, Calponia carefully followed after him, grabbing a few rags. She swabbed down the chairs and table legs which Eugene mopped the mess on the floor. The two worked in silence for a few moments, listening to the two bar patrons groaning and moaning over their meal. Eugene ignored them, his eyes never leaving the floor.

"I went to Sanguinheim," said Calponia The vampire twitched at her words. His movements were stiff compared to his normally fluid grace and Calponia could tell by the shadows under his eyes he was hungry. She suddenly felt guilty for bringing up the subject at all though she burned with curiosity, the question lingering on her lips, unfair as it was. I got in trouble, where were you?

Why did she even want to ask it? It wasn't like he was her knight in shining armor. Far from it, the idea so laughable she almost chuckled out loud. She bit back the question, giving him a shy smile. "Hoped I'd see you but you must have been busy."

Calponia could have sworn a flicker of relief passed over the vampire's face at her words, but it was impossible to tell with half his face covered.. His dark eyes met hers. This close she realized, they were actually a dark shade of brown, the deepest dark chocolate. Eugene coughed, amusement creeping into his gaze.

"I'm sorry to have missed you," he said. His hand lifted, hesitating, stopping and going before his fingers brushed her cheek. "Are you aware you have blood all over your face?"

Calponia groaned, wishing she had a convenient hole to crawl into. Yes, let's dangle a steak in front of a starving man while giving him mixed signals. "I'll just, uh, go wash this off."

The air pulsed. The rafters of the Edgewise gave the high pitched whine of wood stressed to its breaking point. Ravelock and Cesario jumped to their feet, wearing matching expressions of alarm as a sharp crack echoed through the air. Goosebumps prickled along Calponia's arm as the warm lights of the tavern flickered and died.

"What's happening?" She whispered. The air pulsed again. Eugene hissed, clutching his chest, his eyebrows knotted in shock. Calponia was so close she saw the flare of crimson in his irises, the sight like a bucket of cold water on her face. Her eyes went wide as she shrank away from them. He caught her eye, his expression stricken.

A sound rent the air, distracting them. Calponia searched for the noise, gasping as she saw the source. A crack crawled up the wall on the far side of the tavern. A crack? An actual crack in the Edgewise? She started toward it, her alarm mounting as the crack shot up several feet, and turned on a right angle. Not a crack. Not a crack at all.

A door.

The group watched, mesmerized, horrified, as the growing crack took a final angular turn, shooting back down. The second it met the floor the wall exploded. 

**This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful readers. Thank you for all your support!**