“We’re rocking less than we ought to be,” he mutters. “Which means something’s funny about the way the ship’s moving. Like we’ve hit land, or something.”
You can’t say you noticed – the ship’s still moving enough to make you a little uncomfortable. But then, he’s been at sea quite a bit longer than you have.
“Not much we can do about that from here,” a particularly muscular officer replies. “Not until we’ve checked out this level.”
“Indeed. Though they can’t be watching it very carefully if they’ve left a lookout unconscious.”
Hmm. Your father ought to have run past the lookout, shouldn’t he? Meaning he should have done something about it. You find yourself unsurprised he didn’t – it’s almost disappointing to realize you had that little faith in him.
Regardless, all you can do right now is lead them towards the room where the sailors were chanting.
As you get close, though, you feel weird, in a way you’re not entirely sure how to describe at first. It’s as though everything’s become lighter?
And then you find yourself rising to the ceiling.
“We’re floating!” Resk shouts, as he rises himself. “I mean, not just us, the whole ship! The momentum’s sending us upward!”
You aren’t quite sure if that makes sense. All you can tell from here is that the door’s open, but you can’t see anybody beyond it. They might still be in there, or they might not. You find you can push yourself off from the ceiling, but you’ve got no idea what’s awaiting you.
So how do you approach this?