The sun sank low. Sheah removed her pocket watch for the third time in the past five minutes, confirming to herself once again that Kaelis was late. Everyone else had the decency to meet at the rallying point on time. She glanced over at Dez, Jira, and Tycho, who were quietly mingling in the alleyway adjacent to the docks, recounting the details of their days to one another. Stuffing her watch back into her coat, Sheah silently prayed to the Angels that some terrible fate hadn’t befallen her final companion.

  As if an answer from the divine, Kaelis suddenly turned the corner and jogged up to the group. “Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late,” she said, catching her breath.

  “Ah, the fun has arrived!” Tycho exuberantly declared.

  Kaelis threw him a friendly wink. “Nice getup,” she added, noting his Verloren costume. Tycho returned a prim curtsy.

  Sheah breathed out her worries. Kaelis was safe, and at last the crew was together again. Her concern for her teammate quickly soured to displeasure at her tardiness. “What took you?” she demanded to know.

  “Nothin’,” answered Kaelis, her gaze cast aside, the slightest hint of bother hidden behind her usual boisterousness. “I got held up.”

  Dez nodded happily. “Just glad yer here now.”

  Whatever Kaelis was hiding, Sheah felt it best not to pry. There was a job to be done, after all. “Any trouble with the brokers?” she queried, aiming to get things back on track.

  Kaelis pulled a clump of crumpled saebles from her dress pocket. “Nope,” she declared, handing them to Sheah.

  Sheah took the bills and, removing a tidy wad of banknotes from her own frock coat, meticulously folded the stacks together. She stuffed the combined bundle of saebles into her satchel. “Wait, what happened to my other bag?” she asked Kaelis, suddenly aware of its inexplicable nonexistence.

  “Oh, uh, it got too hot. I had to ditch it.”

  “Ohh…” Sheah sighed. “That bag was authentic Werdachi leather…”

  Kaelis quickly changed subjects. “So,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “What’s the score?”

  “We are looking good,” reported Sheah. “The artifacts have all been successfully sold, and the boot key has been acquired.”

  “Quite brutishly, I might add,” said Tycho, glancing towards Jira. She just shrugged.

  Kaelis looked over at Dez. “And what about the Union?”

  “The Union won’t be helpin’ us,” he grimly answered. “We’re, well… we’re all bein’ dropped in the morning. Whatever happens now, we’re on our own.”

  “Oh,” whispered Kaelis. “I see…” She bit her lip, avoiding the eyes of the team.

  Sheah could feel Kaelis’s immense disappointment. She herself hadn’t been surprised when Dez told her the news—the Union had never been very accommodating in her short time with them. They seemed to see her as a privileged pretender, or worse—a corporate spy. But for Kaelis and the others, who had been with the institution for years and had a strong rapport with its members, this development must have come as quite a shock. Sheah could see in Kaelis’s eyes that, deep down, a part of her had hoped that the Union would have absolved them.

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  “Aw, cheer up darling,” Tycho soothed, putting a gentle hand on Kaelis’s shoulder. “The world yet spins. Conquer the Dead City, and your peers will sing your song once more.”

  Kaelis drew a breath and smiled softly. “…Thanks, Tycho.”

  “Besides—” he proclaimed, gesturing grandly to the team. “Who needs a union with a gang such as this!”

  The crew looked to each other and nodded in staunch agreement. No further words needed to be spoken—they would outrun the odds, together. The only thing in their way was the entire world, along with everything in it.

  Sheah put on a serious face. She called the group into a circle around her. “Okay team, we have all that we need. Now is the time to act!”

  “What’s our plan?” asked Jira.

  “I shall stage a grand distraction to draw the attention of the entire dockyards,” Tycho announced. “Go to your ship and await my signal.”

  “What’s the signal gonna be?” questioned Dez.

  “Oh, you will know,” said Tycho, a wry smile curling on his lips.

  Kaelis nodded pleasantly. “Vague, I like it.”

  “Once you hear your cue, take your ship and flee! I shall then disappear into the shadows whence I came.”

  “You’re not coming with us?” Kaelis asked sadly.

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly impose!”

  Behind him, Jira’s mouth twitched into a subtle, solaced smile.

  The thief tented his fingers shiftily. “Plus, some new information has come to light that bears… investigation.”

  Sheah stepped in towards Tycho. It was hard to believe that just only yesterday they had met for the first time, and as foes, at that. For a thief like him to risk it all to help a handful of strangers, it was beyond anything she could ever have expected.

  “I cannot adequately express my thanks at all you have done for us, Mr. Soelva. Truly you are a man of great virtue.” Sheah extended her hand; Tycho took it and gave her a firm, proper handshake. “Do let us know if there is any way we can ever repay you.”

  “No payment is necessary,” said Tycho, waving his arm in a sweeping, dismissive arc. “For what is a caper among friends?”

  Dez wrapped Tycho in a large hug. “Thanks, pal,” he expressed.

  “Gonna miss you, guy” smiled Kaelis, elbowing Tycho lightly in the arm. Jira looked towards the thief and gave him the slightest of approving nods.

  Tycho took a bow. “Until our stars align once more.”

  With that, the thief and the team dispersed from their huddle. They each moved into different parts of the alleyway and prepared themselves for the endeavor ahead of them: Kaelis checked the rounds of her revolver before tucking it into the holster hidden under her dress; Jira sharpened the small knives she kept in her belt at all times; Dez paced the concrete in a tight figure-eight pattern; and Tycho performed elaborate stretches that no reasonable person should attempt, pushing the limits of his Verloren-issued pants.

  Sheah stood completely still and counted down the seconds, running over the plan in her mind yet again. She tried to consider every possible angle, plan for every possible contingency, and formulate how best to act should things go awry. No matter what, they had to succeed, here and now. There would be no second chances. And should they fail… Sheah tried not to think about it.

  The sun hovered gently over the horizon, slowly disappearing under the lip of the bridge. Long shadows began to drape across the docks. Their window had arrived—half an hour at most to rescue their ship and escape the city before the raising of the drawbridge trapped them in the Southlands forever. The operation was ready to commence, all it needed was Sheah’s word.

  “Is everybody ready?” Sheah finally asked. The team gathered around her, each of them returning a resolved nod. “Okay,” she breathed. Together she and her crewmates turned to face the docks.

  They could see it clearly from there: the Redland Runner, parked a short ways in the distance, surrounded by an army of people all seeking their imprisonment or worse. Sheah took a long breath and steadied herself, gathering every last ounce of her courage. They had to rescue her ship, they had to get this right. They would.

  Sheah signaled to the team.

  “Here we go.”