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Lightning-fire crept through the blackened sky as thunder crackled alongside the booms and sizzles of the fireworks. After a torrent of bolts—the festival’s lights flickered out, leaving Foxx, Frost, and Free in darkness, save for the lightning strikes.

“We should head for shelter,” Frost said.

“At least there's no…” Free looked up to the sky, waited, then looked back at Frost. “...Rain—”

It began to rain, most of it landing on Free, vapor steaming off his head with each drop.

The trio quickly ran to the closest building, the art center, before it turned from a drizzle to a deluge. Inside, the lights were still on but dim and the lobby was packed with people. Guests and locals alike casually talked amongst themselves.

Oddly, the volunteers kept to a cornered off part of the room away from the rest, a few of them pacing in place while chittering.

Free shook the vapor off his head, his body flickering for a second, “Phew, that was a close one.” He then noticed the volunteers, "Something's up.”

“The storm?” Frost said.

“Ha-ha.”

“Very ‘ha-ha,’ thank you.”

“I mean the memorial and the fireworks—you saw that the crystal was missing, right?”

“Mm-hmm. It seems that the ‘hooligans’ had bigger plans than stealing from Cornel.”

“Great…” Free sighed, “Well, whatever—first, we need to check on the radio. It has a backup battery, but I’m not betting on burned out surge protectors.”

The trio walked down the hall to the staff workshop. Inside the workshop was Sal pacing around the room, wearing the bottom half of her Dust Devil costume—its tail dragging behind her. Sola and Marr’s ketch wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Free waved at Sal, “Yo—”

“Have any of you seen Lav?” Sal hastily walked up to the three.

Foxx raised his ears, “I have.”

“Where?”

“The memorial.”

“Is she still there?”

“No.”

“Then where is she now?”

“The woodworker’s, with Poppy and Clary.”

Sal let out a sigh of relief, “Okay, good.”

“What’s going on?” Free asked.

“A lot. Lav wasn’t picking up when I called her, at least I know she’s safe now,” Sal sat down on a folding chair. “What are you three doing here?”

“Rain, and checking on the radio," Free said.

“It’s raining? I didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy with performance prep?”

“That and the fireworks, and the memorial’s aqua crystal missing, Albo and the ketch too—and the guests starting to ask questions that we don’t have answers too…”

Sal went on for a while until Frost interrupted her, “How may we help?”

“Honestly there’s not much—”

The walkie talkie on the table next to her turned on, the voice was unfamiliar, “I found Al—”

“Sea-weathered shell—untie me first!” Albo said.

“Hey—one problem down!” Free said jokingly.

Sal laughed weakly, “Yeah, I guess so… Who tied him up?” Sal got up and grabbed the walkie talkie, “Albo—did you see who tied you up? Over.”

“Lass. Over.”

“Yeah? Over.”

“You’re forgetting something. Over.”

“What? Over.”

“I’m blind. Over.”

“...”

“Calm yourself—you’re no good with that brain of yours sloshing like a sailor on his first voya—drink. Drink.” Albo coughed, “This damned costume made it hard to sense what was around, but the little sea-snip had to jump up to knock me down. Over.”

“Sense?” Foxx curiously turned his ears.

Sal leaned in Foxx’s direction, “Some people use the moisture in the air to ‘see’ around them—like echolocation, if you know what that is, but by feeling how water moves and changes—Albo and Clary can explain it better than I can.”

“Woah.”

Sal turned her attention back to the walkie talkie, “And that means? Over.”

“They must’ve been short or a—How do you not know how to untie a reef knot?” Albo’s voice was turned away from the walkie talkie, “And somehow you made them tighter—It’d be faster to cut them with my teeth with how confused you are!”

It seemed that after that, Albo got preoccupied and stopped replying.

“Short…” Sal repeated.

“Short…” Free repeated Sal.

“Short…” Sal repeated Free who had repeated Sal. “The Great Magician Celphi’s performance ended a few minutes ago, right?”

“Indeed, that is a short time window for Albo to be captured,” Frost said.

“Exactly, maybe Clary saw something as she left?” Sal quickly put away her costume then grabbed a raincoat out of a box and went to the door, “I know it's a lot to ask, but could you three come with me? Just in case we need extra hands on deck.”

Foxx nodded his head—placing his plushie safely near the radio—and Frost replied with, “Alright.”

“Can’t. Rain and me don’t mix—” Free got an idea, “Hang on a sec, do you mind if I use those raincoats?”

“Go ahead, they’re handouts,” Sal replied.

Free went over to the box of raincoats and took out a few, cutting and stitching them together to create a raincoat with a massive cowl that covered him horn to boot, “This should work well enough.”

The trio ran out of the art center and over to Cornel’s workshop, only to find that none of the Romp—Lav, Poppy, Clary—were around, only Cornel sleeping on a wood pile.

“Cornel!” Sal shouted.

Cornel rolled to his side to face Sal, “Hey, dude…” He groggily opened his eyes and saw the trio, “...and dudes. What’s with the, like, haste and hostility?”

“Did you see Lav and her friends come by here?” Sal asked. “Please tell me you were awake to see them.”

“Oh, the little dudes…” Cornel pointed to the bushes that lead to the hidden shore and went back to sleep.

“Why would they be over there in weather like this—” Sal connected the dots.

Frost dashed in front of Sal, “We must go quickly, a shore is not safe during a—” then connected the dots too. “Let us go now—before they sail.”

Sal and Frost ran off, leaving Foxx and Free to follow shortly behind.

“What’s going on?” Free asked.

“The Romp was behind the ketch and today’s incidents," Foxx answered, is voice sound a little strained.

“That makes some sense—how long did you know?”

Foxx’s ears laid flat, “I wasn’t certain.”

“Innocent until proven guilty, I respect that—next time, tell us about that stuff even if you’re not a hundred percent confident, got me?”

“Ok.”

***

“Last chance for us to turn back,” Poppy said as he reefed the last sail of the ketch.

Lav—wearing her claw-scarred jacket, and a weathered cutlass at her side—placed her leg on the rail of the quarterdeck and leaned down towards Poppy, smirking, “And our last and only chance to become legends.”

“Gen’s working!” Clary shouted from the innards of the boat after slotting in the memorial’s crystal into the generator and kickstarting it with a water bolt.

“Supplies secured, sails reefed, generator working…” Lav marched to the rope at the stern, that tied the ketch to shore, then looked back at the raging storm ahead. “...And seas ready to be sailed!”

Lav slashed the rope loose with her cutlass—the ketch was now free to sail onwards.

“I hope that wasn’t the only mooring rope,” Poppy said.

Lav sheathed her blade and chuckled, “Already think me a fool?”

“Theatrical, maybe.”

Clary hopped up onto the deck and swung her arm around Poppy, “Oh come on, Pop—we’re pirates now, we should start talking and acting like ones. We could find Spruce’s hoard, recover Hi-bis’ keg, and steal Major Shore’s snake-saber—but if we don’t fit the bill, make an impression—we’ll never be legends!” She smiled, “You got me?”

Poppy rubbed his arm and let out a huff.

Lav took hold of the helm wheel, “You can leave now if you want, there’s no telling how our tale will go. You can blame it all on us too, say that we forced you to help, save your own tail.”

“That’s the smart thing to do,” Poppy said to himself. “I got one question—we’re sticking together until the very end, yeah?”

“Of course, Pop!” Clary hugged him.

“Like always,” Lav said.

After hearing his friends’ words, Poppy looked less nervous, “Then I’ll go wherever you two go.”

With that, Lav turned on the propellers and the ketch sailed forward into the roaring waves, “Clary, keep watch of the water and break waves the ship can’t! Poppy, keep watch of the shore and make repairs when needed!”

“Aye aye!” Poppy and Clary saluted back then went to their assigned stations—Poppy joining Lav’s side at the quarter deck, and Clary moving to the bow.

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