“I think maybe we were all looking too high,” said Johnnie-O, nervously cracking his knuckles again.

Two miles away, a hundred Afterlights holding ropes heaved themselves forward, dragging behind them a giant airship. Inch by inch it moved, its belly practically crawling across the ground.

Mary had been unconvinced that the western wind was the obstacle others claimed it was. Still, she had Speedo conduct the airship due south from Chicago, and didn’t turn west until they were over Tennessee airspace. As Memphis had begun to loom in the distance, their airspeed slowed, and the airship’s rudder strained hopelessly to keep them on a western course. When it became clear they would get no closer by air, Mary had Speedo set the ship down, and arranged for an alternate method of propulsion.

A hundred Afterlights were chosen for the team that would pull the Hindenburg forward toward Memphis, straining against an increasingly powerful wind. It was amazing how a ship that was supposed to be lighter than air could feel heavier to drag than a stone obelisk.

Fortunately, obstacles in the living world were not obstacles at all, for the airship passed through living forests and buildings—and although it was difficult for the team of pullers to struggle for traction in the bog of the living world, Mary’s children always did what they were told.

Within the airship, the rest of Mary’s kids filled the rigid aluminum frame, resting on catwalks, finding space between the huge hydrogen bladders. Mary had briefed them personally on their part in the upcoming mission, and now an air of excitement filled the hollow spaces of the giant craft, like the static electricity that brought the airship to Everlost in the first place.

She had left behind a dozen of her most well-trained followers in Chicago to tend to the sleeping Interlights—more than two hundred of them when she left. She didn’t know when she would return to Chicago, but when she did, there would be a fine community of Afterlights, all brought up with the benefit of her teachings.

As the grounded airship crawled toward Memphis, Mary tried to quell her own anticipation by taking the most frightened of her children to her in the Starboard Promenade, and telling them whatever comforting stories she could remember from the living world. Fairy tales with endings she tweaked toward the positive. Happily-ever-afters fabricated where none existed before. Still, the children were on edge.

“What if the Ogre attacks us before we get there?” one of her children asked.

“He won’t,” Mary told him, for as much as Mary wanted the world to think that Nick was a ruthless monster, she knew he was not. He would try diplomacy before waging an all-out war. In fact her whole strategy counted on it.