Santana sauntered in, setting a tiny shot of espresso down on the desk. “You shouldn’t spend too much time down here. You’ll go mad.”

“I’m used to staying shut in for long periods of time,” Quinn told her, downing the bitter liquid.

“Come on up for a moment,” Santana insisted. “We’re heading into the airspace over Croilux - you don’t want to miss it.”

“Really? Why?” Quinn asked as she followed Santana up onto the deck.

Blaine gave them a big grin and a wave as he steered. “Just starting the descent,” he called.

“Wow,” Quinn said, at a loss for anything more philosophic.

The sky around them was a dazzling mixture of pinks and oranges - nearly picture perfect, if artists ever found a way to capture the twilight descent of the astral dust. It was a worldwide source of energy, astral dust, collected in the evenings when the stars began to appear in the sky. Already, a few airships were traveling up to begin their nightly task of storing it in glass canisters the size of suitcases. The glittering world around them looked like the top of a frosted cupcake.

“Have you been here before?” Santana asked, leaning on the railing next to Quinn.

“Once,” Quinn said. “On a research grant. I stayed just there, at the University.” She pointed out a large green tower toward the east.

“What was it like?”

“The Masters were old and didn’t care much what I did. I made a lot of friends and we ended up just barely passing the course,” Quinn told her, grinning. “Some of the best spirits in the world here, and if you can tolerate alcohol well, that tends to get in the way of your studies.”

Santana laughed. “You’ll have to prove it to me. We’ll be staying overnight in town before heading to the mountains tomorrow.”

“Well, you said the whole pirate thing was exaggerated,” Quinn said with small smile. “How am I supposed to trust that you can handle your alcohol?”

“I may not be a pirate, but other life professions have taught me my way around a booze hall,” Santana informed her, winking. “You just show me where - I promise I can hold my own.”

“No boozing tonight, unfortunately,” Matt said, walking over to them. “Unless there’s a tavern attached to our inn. There’s a forecast of rain and we need to start early to get to the mountains before noon.”

Santana groaned like the world was collapsing around her, and Quinn laughed.

“Fine, but you owe me a round when we find what we’re looking for,” she told the blonde.

“It’s a date.”

Santana smirked at her before striding over to talk to Blaine.

“She’s going to hold you to that,” Matt said, grinning at her.

“What? The alcohol? That’s fine. I’m sure we’ll all be up for a drink or three when this is over.”

“That too, but I meant the part about it being a date.”

Quinn gaped at him. Then she turned to look at Santana, who was at the wheel again. “No,” she said to Matt. “Seriously?” And she hoped the tiny sparkle of hope wasn’t evident in her voice.

“Oh definitely.”

“I bet she has no trouble in that department,” Quinn said, trying not to get her hopes up.

“Eh...couldn’t say. She hasn’t been with anyone in a long time. I’ve known her most of her life, you see? She loves hard, but she doesn’t trust easily.”

Quinn nodded, glancing back at the older woman.

“Water landing!” Santana called happily. “Everybody hold on to something, these can get bumpy.”

Quinn grabbed onto the railing, and onto Matt’s shirt with her other hand, and watched breathlessly the last bit of their descent. The landing was indeed bumpy, but she congratulated herself on the fact that she didn’t fall over.

There was a loud hiss and a jolt as Santana gave the ship a bit more steam and they shot toward the harbor.

*

The Croilux Mountain Range loomed just ahead of them. Over supper the night before, they’d gone over all of the plans - the language that Quinn was rapidly getting the hang of (if you didn’t count speaking skills, that is), the plan for exploring the set of five caves, and what they would do if they ended up waking a sleeping dragon or some other such catastrophe befell them.

But now - now that they were here - Quinn was suddenly nervous. The other clues had been found in secluded places, but never anywhere this...wild. They’d flown through large stretches of jungle before landing on a plateau, and Quinn was struck with how much work this just might be. No X Marks the Spot digging anymore - now they really were exploring.

“You ready?” Santana asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Quinn said.

The ground was muddy and uneven under their feet as they trudged across the narrow isthmus to the mouth of one of the lower mountain caves. They watched as Matt and Blaine set off into the sky once more - the boys would start at the other side of the range, in the shallow sea caves.

They’d brought torches, but they didn’t light them at first. The sun was shining directly into the cave, making the walls glitter slightly. Quinn took out her small notebook and spoke a few words. The runes appeared in the air, glowing. They dissolved into wisps a moment later, leading the way forward.

“Well done,” Santana said, not even trying to hide the impressed tone in her voice. “You’re getting the hang of that.”

“Trying, at least. The next one might take me a while. Hopefully I taught Matt well enough.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

Santana led the way, and they followed the faint purple trail into the cave. Quinn flicked the switch on her torch and looked at the walls. The last clue had mentioned them, but she wasn’t sure she was translating it at all correctly. The rough, glittering rocks didn’t look special or odd in any way, but maybe there was something she was missing.

They were deep into the heart of the cave before they came upon their first problem.

“Bollocks,” Santana grumbled, setting her pack down and shining a light into the rocky chasm. The beam reflected off of something. “I think there’s some sort of water down there. Maybe a river, but it’s too far down to tell.”

“The trail leads down there. You don’t think they dumped it in a lake, do you?” Quinn asked, panicked.

“No...I see dry land, I think. Right, help me get the repelling equipment out.”

Quinn threw up four balls of light.

“Wait, why are we bothering with the torches if you can do that?” Santana asked.

“Magic is...weird. You’d think light spells wouldn’t take too much energy, but they do. I don’t want to pass out on you,” she added, smiling.

In another ten minutes, they were ready to go. Santana double checked their ropes as the sat on the lip of the cliff. Quinn took her hand.

“Hairh fuwasr fsudasd ir,” she muttered.

“That… Old Tinuan?” Santana asked.

“Close. High Tinuan,” Quinn said as a soft purple glow enveloped them. “Old Tinuan uses “oxa” instead of “ir”.”

“Got it,” Santana nodded.

Quinn was interested to note that there wasn’t even a hint of sarcasm in the older woman’s voice. She seemed genuinely interested. “Um...okay, the protection spell took hold. We can go now.”

They lowered themselves down about twenty feet, the orbs of light following their descent. When they hit the sandy floor of the cave’s lower level, they were looking up at what was, essentially, a basin in the middle of the pit. It stood only a few inches over their heads. Quinn reached up, but Santana grabbed her wrist gently.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned on these expeditions,” she said. “It’s to never be the first to stick your hand in a viscous material.”

Quinn chuckled nervously. “Right. Let’s go.”

“Do you like working for the university?” Santana asked quietly.

“I do. The students are great, and the higher-ups let me get on with whatever research I want to do.”

“Hmmm….” Santana hummed.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a...thought. I think we’re going to have to climb over this bit.”

Quinn looked up at the wall of rocks in front of them. “There’s an opening, but it’s quite small.”

Santana took a small round disc out of her pack and wound the gear on its face for a moment. Then she reached back and chucked it as hard as she could up and through the hole. There was a series of small pops, and then a bright flash of blue. It illuminated the rocks from the other side so they could see better.

“It won’t last long,” Santana said. “Let’s go.”

Quinn put another protective spell on the pair of them, and followed Santana. She was pretty athletic, for someone who lurked in libraries for a living. She made it a point to go to the university’s gymnasium each morning and having a go at the obstacle course, and twice a week she had sparring matches after class. But between using her magic and the physical exertion, she was completely out of breath when she lowered herself to the ground on the other side.

“Easy,” Santana said, steering her to a wall. “Sit down. We’ll rest for a while.”

“But, we’re on a schedule,” Quinn said, panting.

“We have all day. Here.” She handed Quinn a water bottle and a piece of dried fruit.

“Thanks,” she said, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach when Santana rubbed her back.

“Hey, look at this,” Santana said, standing up. She pointed to the purple trail, which curved sharply a few feet ahead of them and led into a solid wall.

“That must be it. I’m okay,” she added, seeing Santana’s look of concern.

“You sure? I don’t know much about magic, but I know it’s physical. And we don’t exactly know what we’re getting into here.”

“I’m okay. I’ll just take a moment to make sure I’m reading this right. Yeah, I’ve got it. Stand back a bit.”

Santana did so, and the purple light of the protection spell lit them once more. She watch Quinn speak to the wall a few times. Nothing happened.

Quinn tried again, putting inflection on different syllables. Still nothing. She huffed impatiently and slapped her hand against the wall. She didn’t bother trying to do the spell in the specific sect language, but switched to the common magical language used throughout their world. “E verr sraa ragor sraekark!”

“I will thee, reveal thyself,” Santana translated, a little awed as purple and blue cracks fanned out from Quinn’s hand.

The rock was hot where she was touching it, but she didn’t pull away. She tried again in the sect’s language. “Grusairuir dsaerisa dha wahdhail ula raacer susseira.”

The ground shook. The rock began to crumble away, and Quinn scrambled back. Rocks from the wall they’d climbed over began to tumble, and Quinn put up a barrier to protect herself and Santana. The wall she’d touched looked as though it were disintergrating. There, when the dust settled, was a large but ordinary chest. Santana took a step forward, but stopped and looked back at Quinn.

“You’ve still got the spell on you,” the blonde said weakly. “You’re safe enough.”

Santana didn’t go to the chest though. She helped Quinn sit down and stayed next to her. “We’ve got time. You rest. Well done, though.”

“Yes, very well done,” said a voice.

Santana was on her feet in an instant, sword drawn. She lowered it in confusion a moment later. “Sebastian?”

A man came through the wall’s new, bigger opening, grinning at them. “You didn’t think we’d let you snub us on an ancient, wonderful treasure, did you?”

Quinn, through a haze of magical fatigue, saw other men entering the tunnel. One of them tried to grab her, but Santana pushed him away.

“Leave off!” she snapped. “She’s tired. And what’s this all about, Sebastian?”

“We think it’s time you took the backseat,” he said, still smiling. “Now, throw your sword to the ground, and there’ll be no fuss. Otherwise we’ll kill you and the blonde beauty here. You may not be a pirate...but I am.”

There was a chorus of clattering as some of the men prepared their crossbows.

Santana tossed her sword to the ground, but still stood protectively in front of Quinn.