"So the steam compresses until it lifts the piston which works the arm?" Emmaline asked leaning forward to observe the metal workings of the engine. The engine-room was well below the waterline in a section which might once have been part of a powder magazine. The steam engine itself was the size of a small wagon, though a lot of that was a large wooden barrel that stored water. According to Makem, a balding mustached engineer from Nuln, fresh water worked best and kept salt from building up in the pipes which drove the propeller. Although he had initially been nervous to allow Emmaline near the machine, her persistent interest and her ability to transmute salt water into the pure element had eventually won him over.

"I have to admit that some of it is a bit too complicated for me," Makem admitted, wiping the sweat and cold dust from his face with a filthy handkerchief. 

"The Dwarves have arts of engineering that we know nothing off," the man went on, sounding equal parts sour and impressed. He punctuated the remark but patting the chugging machine happily. 

"I can keep it running, and make minor repairs, but if anything goes too far wrong we just shut her down and rely on the sails and Mannan's good will." Neither the engineer nor his two offsiders seemed to mind Emmaline's daily visits over the past week to see the engine and all three men seemed to find plenty of time to show her around. Emmaline nodded and straightened brushing coal dust from her cheeks.

"So that's what the gauges do? Measure the pressure in the chambers?" she asked. Makem nodded and opened his mouth but before he could speak a shout came from deck. 

"Sail ho!"