The woman he’d told to relay his command was unceremoniously flung onto the deck at Alfred’s feet, which he supposed solved the mystery of where she had gone. He knew better than to spend any time thinking about one person when his entire ship was at risk, though, so rather than taking time to address her or see if she was wounded, Alfred vaulted over her on his way to the quarterdeck. The ship was still rocking beneath him, spells flying through the air above, but the tentacles hadn’t reattached to the starboard side yet. They had their opening, though perhaps only for a moment.

He reached the quarterdeck and began shouting orders at once, the helmsman and his crew working quickly to get the Voyager moving in the right direction. She wavered and shuddered under the pressure of the tentacles on the port side, but then broke free. Alfred broke out in a grin as his terror turned to adrenaline, exuberant at having escaped the clutches of the monster — but it faded as he remembered the Voyager was damaged, and he had yet to fully take stock of what had become of the crew — or the debutante on the deck — or Dionisia.