Trevor floated on the edge of dreams. One moment in reality seeded a kaleidoscope of visions, to fold like an ornate fan again before reality. The shouts of industry, rolling barrels, intruded on his sleep like wooden thunder as he meandered the dividing line to the dream realm.

　　The swaying of his hammock in time with his breathing and the rolling of the ship became the heartbeat of his private world. The shouting became louder and less infrequent. It colored his visions with sharp red angles. He stirred, opening his eyes.

　　It was full night. There was only the bone glow of moonlight slicing through his room`s porthole. He realized his friends had neglected to remove his glasses when putting him to bed. Unfortunately this earned him a clear image of the merfolk face glowering down at him.

　　After the sulfur stink of the port, the smell of the merfolk approached rancid from the other direction. It was relatively subtle, a slimy fish pit. The frowning grouper face, edged with spiked scales, studied Trevor with a flicker of intelligence, like movement under placid depths. It was staring at Trevor`s throat.

　　Trevor screamed and thrashed. The merfolk lunged.

　　His hammock closed in around him, fending off the sloppy grab. The webbing bounced as the two struggled together, Trevor screaming and the merfolk glubbing. It drew its stone knife. Trevor`s struggling upended him onto the floor.

　　He started crawling around the desk on his elbows in the dark, hoping to circumnavigate the threat and make it to the door. He heard a series of wet slaps behind him, followed by a thunk of a stone point being driven an inch into a wood floor where his foot had just been.

　　His leg was immobilized. It might have missed his foot, but his clothes were now nailed to the floor. A rough, cold, wet hand gripped his calf. Trevor screamed again.

　　Feeling for the top of his desk, he pulled a hand hold which instantly gave way. A drawer. Something fell out of it onto the floor. It was an oblong leather thing, an ornate handle glinting in the moonlight. His quill knife.

　　He looked back at the merfolk, pulling itself along Trevor`s prone body. He looked back at the beautiful knife.

　　With a groan, he grabbed it out of its sheath and shoved it into the merfolk, which screamed and let him go. Trevor made a grab for the knife pinning him. It was too deep into the wood.

　　He curled himself around it, putting his back to the frantic attacker, hoping it would stay focused on its own injury. Putting two hands on the handle, he gave a mighty heave, and the point came free. A clatter behind him told Trevor the merfolk had dislodged the quill knife and discarded it, so he stood and made a few hopping lopes to the door.

　　Before he could grab the handle, it started to open. He ducked behind it as it swung inward, standing in the space it made of the adjacent corner of the room.

　　He heard the merfolk he had stabbed hiss. Through the crack between the door and the wall, he got a good look at it. It crawled around on its two arms, as there was a fish tail where legs would be on most anyone else. It was a dark blueish-green, and was wet with a dark ink substance Trevor realized was its blood. It bared irregular, sharp fishy teeth at whatever had entered the room.

　　"Where is he?!" the interloper shouted. It was Cookie. He heard slow, meaty slaps. He was hitting his fist into his other hand, Trevor decided.

　　"What didja do wit`im?!"

　　He watched the merfolk sit up as if on knees and bare its claws. In a flash, the merfolk was tackled by what Trevor could only describe as a greasy, bearded barrel as Cookie sprang into view and grappled with the merfolk.

　　The two rolled about, knocking into walls, the desk, and the storage in the room. Trevor watched, frozen, fearing he might break the dwarf`s concentration if he made himself known.

　　Avoiding life-threatening slashes from the merfolk, he administered with a butcher`s efficiency various holds on the merfolk, taxing the creature`s strength, wits, and physical elasticity. It sustained multiple blows to the head throughout the struggle.

　　Only when it was limp as a fish did Trevor come out, hoping the dwarf would be too exhausted to be angry.

　　"Lad!" he said with relief, kneeling by the unconscious merfolk. "I thought the worst when this thing was in here instead`a you."

　　He was too astounded at what he had witnessed to speak.

　　"C`mon," Cookie continued, hefting his opponent onto his shoulders, "these things are all over the ship. They came in with the tide, under cover a`night." He walked to the door.

　　"Prob`ly would`ve cut us all in our sleep if we hadn`t been loadin` up."

　　The two stepped out onto the deck, which was in a state of bedlam. More merfolk were crawling about, most being chased by sword-wielding crewmen. They were quick on their hands, Trevor saw. He watched one stay step for step ahead of a crewmate as it fled for the side of the ship.

　　"Slipp`ry devils. They keep jumping overboard, but then we find`em somewhere else." The dwarf swung the merfolk he had been hefting off his shoulders and began tying it up with a length of rope. "Don` want this one gettin` away. There must be a swarm of them just under the water where we can`t reach`em."

　　"We could boil the harbor," Trevor mused. "I don`t know where they came from, but hot water might drive them away. We`ve got a lot of sulfur, and I saw the saltpeter below decks. If we had some charcoal powder, it might be sufficient to heat the water if we put it out on a barrel raft."

　　Cookie had stopped fiddling with the merfolk and was staring at Trevor.

　　"What?"

　　Cookie looked pensive and glanced around conspiratorially. "Where did you learn of that, lad?"

　　"I really liked setting stuff on fire on the farm. To channel it into something constructive, my mother made me keep a journal. Lots of stuff burns, but not many people pay attention to the details."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

　　"You best be keepin` this to yerself. But aye, your plan might work. It`ll do a lot more than heat the water, though, like you propose. We dwarves have some experience in the matter."

　　Trevor got up to go below decks, but Cookie stopped him. "In the mess, lad."

　　"In the mess? What`s there?"

　　"What yer talkin` about is dwarf mining powder. As a matter of fact, I`d been making some with the sulfur they`ve been bringing aboard."

　　When the coast was clear, and no merfolk to catch them off guard, they broke for the kitchens. The dining area was empty.

　　"I think we kept`em out-" Cookie started, but was tackled from behind by two merfolk springing from the dark. The three struggled on the ground as the dwarf conjured a cloud of curses. Trevor stood in shock, his hands on his head in panic.

　　"Get`tem off me!" the dwarf raged. He was keeping their claws out of his vital places, but only barely.

　　Trevor looked around. Seeing nothing else, he tried to pick up a chair.

　　"C`mon lad! We`re on a ship, remember?" the dwarf said petulantly as he redirected a sharp rock from his beard. "Get some real hardware!"

　　Trevor vanished into the depths of the kitchen while Cookie struggled in vain to get his legs beneath him without a merfolk unseaming his stomach. They grabbed at his clothes and scratched with their claws and stone daggers.

　　Cookie heard grunting and some footsteps, his back to the kitchen door. He risked a glance and saw Tweesly spinning in place, holding his cast iron cauldron almost horizontally.

　　Cookie grabbed one of the merfolk under the armpits, feeling serrated gills that would have made a less experienced cook squeamish, and held it up as Tweesly`s devastating crockery smashed into its side, sending the surprised merfolk across the room.

　　The other one, stunned by the form of the attack, stopped and tried to disengage.

　　"Oh no," Cookie rumbled, finding purchase on his second attacker. "Soup`s up."

　　With a second bell clang, the cast iron impacted with the merfolk and sent it sprawling too.

　　"Great job," Cookie said, standing up. He was cut off by Trevor shouting, "I can`t stop, Cookie!" before sending the pot into Cookie just like the two merfolk. The force took both of them down again in a heap.

　　"I`m grateful," Cookie finally said, winded, "but I never - and I mean never - want you touching my cooking utensils ever again."

　　"Yes, sir," Trevor said dejectedly, his head and top half inside the cauldron.

　　Managing to get once again to their feet, they tied up the two unconscious merfolk similarly to the first one and retreated back into the kitchen. Having had no time to stop, due to the cook`s life being threatened, Trevor managed to take in the whole of the kitchen.

　　There was the fireplace where Trevor had taken the cast-iron cauldron, stocked with a store of charcoal beside it. There were packed foodstuffs on every surface and in every cranny he could see, save for a spot on the counter where chopping was obviously done. Utensils hung from racks, swaying with the motion of the ship. Ladles of various sizes, smaller pots and pans, measuring cups. In the corner, shoved between a cabinet and the wall, was a barrel of saltpeter, a barrel of sulfur, and a short stool. If it weren`t for the minerals, it could have been a potato peeling nook.

　　"I use the saltpeter to cure what meats we can find. I couldn`t remember the ratio, so I was goin` ta play with it while we were out ta sea," Cookie said.

　　"Ten, fifteen, seventy-five," Trevor said automatically. "One, three, nine works similarly well, and might be easier to do here."

　　"Gracious, lad," was all Cookie could say.

　　"It was a particularly useful compound," Trevor said bashfully.

　　They got to work inventorying what components they had. In the end, it was decided they could use half the saltpeter in Cookie`s stores, a third of that amount of charcoal from the fireplace, and a third of that amount from the sulfur he had brought back here. It all fit neatly into a small empty ale keg.

　　"The keg is water-tight, but how will we get fire to it?" Cookie pondered.

　　Trevor took an awl, some wax, and a length of twine from a cluttered surface.

　　"I use that twine ta tie up the roasts," the dwarf said.

　　"I won`t need much," Trevor replied as he made a hole in the lid of the keg, threaded the twine down into it, and sealed the hole with wax. "This is cotton?"

　　"Aye. Can`t use much else at those temperatures."

　　"A few inches will give us long enough to get it away from the ship before the flame reaches the components."

　　"Are you sure you wan` ta be a navigator, lad?" the dwarf asked Trevor mysteriously.

　　"Not really. It`s just more respectable than being an alchemist."

　　The dwarf hefted the small keg and they made their way topside, where pandemonium still reigned. The men were much more tired than before, in stark contrast to the merfolk crawling around the deck. Trevor saw one of them had pinned a sailor, and he ran up to kick it in the ribs.

　　It fell bodily off the man before scampering to the side and jumping back in. He helped the sailor to his feet.

　　"They keep jumping overboard," the man said, exhausted, "but then they`re back up topside all refreshed. I swear I`ve seen the same one three times."

　　Trevor just nodded as he spoke, then said, "Cookie and I have something devastating. Get everyone clear of the edge, and for the gods` sake, don`t go in the water."

　　"You don`t have to tell me twice!" With that, he got up again to spread the word.

　　When Trevor turned back to Cookie, he saw the dwarf was looking up at the wheel. The captain was menacing three merfolk. He had his sword drawn, a broad and intricate saber, and was slashing at each in turn, his movements giving a calculated air.

　　Cookie shouted, "Captain! Permission to blow these sea rats out of the water!"

　　The captain dispatched the three merfolk with one fluid motion and walked calmly over to the railing, his long blonde hair loose and trailing behind him.

　　"You completed the test batch? Very well." He gave a carefree, languid motion with his hand. "I`m bored of these affairs. By all means, see them off."

　　"Aye sir!" He gestured to Trevor, who met him over by the edge of the ship next to where the captain was loitering, his back to the sea. Trevor procured a length of rope to lower the keg to the water`s surface, but watched the captain as he did so.

　　Here he was, watching his men fight a vicious and barbarian force as calmly as a theater production.

　　The captain noticed his stare and turned to him. "Would you like help selecting a knot, Mister Tweesly?"

　　As he gestured with a beringed off-hand, a merfolk head popped up over the side. A casual swipe of the captain`s cutlass and the merfolk fell back into the ocean in two pieces.

　　Trevor hadn`t moved. He had the rope in two hands in a coil around the top of the barrel, but he stood there looking at the pompous elf lending him a hand.

　　"We haven`t the time, Mister Tweesly. Do you need assistance?"

　　Trevor shook his head, grounding himself instead of answering the captain. "No, sir, I think I can get this myself."

　　"Very well," the captain said, and he resumed leaning on the railing. "How long will we have, by your estimate?"

　　Trevor looked up from securing the pay load. "Uhh& Maybe a minute?"

　　"Very good. Ophidion?" He didn`t raise his voice when calling the first mate. He said it as casually as calling for a waiter.

　　Trevor glanced around, trying to spot the minotaur. He was laying hands on an injured crew mate, but stood up and approached the captain when called.

　　"Ophidion, have someone below decks get a polearm and push this keg away from the ship. I would be grateful." He punctuated this command with a smile.

　　The minotaur gave a slight bow and walked away. His measured stride took him past a pile of unconscious, or worse, merfolk piled on deck.

　　Trevor lit the wick. Cookie lowered it down to the water. A wooden pole came out a porthole and pushed the charge, propelling it away.

　　Trevor and Cookie hit the deck, covering their ears. The captain strolled to his quarters.

　　A crack like the whip of a god split the air, followed by silence. Trevor shakily got up and approached the rail as a chorus of screams rose up from the water. Merfolk could be seen swarming away from the explosion.

　　"A remarkable first test," the captain said. No more merfolk could be seen climbing up the side of the ship. "Attend to the wounded and secure the rest of the sulfur. We should be clear to leave in the morning."

　　And with that, he disappeared behind the door.