City Works was an embarrassment. Had they done as Vogel had requested and lifted the drawbridge immediately when asked, then the thieves aboard the Redland Runner would not have been able to escape from the city. But instead, the bridge officials felt it prudent to fight her on petty grounds of jurisdiction, wasting the precious few minutes they had. It was grievously unacceptable.

  Hands gripped behind her back, Director Vogel stood at the base of the drawbridge, watching as Verloren personnel argued fiercely with the bridge technicians and city officials. Regardless of who was truly to blame, this fiasco would in no way come back to her. A few choice officers would be quietly reprimanded for their lax security of the docks, and Verloren Industries would see to it that the acting manager of the Bruckhaven drawbridge be stripped of their position and subsequently made unable to hold a decent job for the rest of their pathetic life.

  As the city slipped into night, Vogel drew in a deep breath, turning the wheels of strategy in her mind. The loss of the map was in no way a defeat, far from it. No, at worst, it posed merely a delay, and nothing more. But one thing had become absolutely certain: the thieves of the map knew just what they had in their possession, and their brazen behavior that evening had made their intentions more than clear.

  It was now a race to the Dead City.

  No matter. Soon the northbound road would force them into Vogel’s hands once more. If the perils of the wasteland didn’t devour them first, then her grip would close in on the thieves until they had nowhere left to breathe. One way or another, she would claim the map from their corpses, and the secrets of the Angels would at last be hers to possess. It was solely a matter of time.

  Turning from the drawbridge, she strode off into the dark, consumed by her shrewd machinations. She had wasted enough time with formalities. In the north there would be no law, no oversight, no limits to keep her from finding her quarry. It was finally time to unleash the true might of Verloren Industries.

  It was for her time to assemble the Executive Agents.

  The Redland Runner carried on across the arid plains as twilight painted the sky. Sheah wrapped her arms tighter around Jira, squeezing as strongly as she could, overflowing with joy.

  “Mmph—” the Captain uncomfortably grunted, rolling her shoulders.

  “Ah, sorry.” Sheah apologized and backed away, a wide grin still bedazzled on her face.

  A beat later, Dez stumbled onto the bridge behind her. His hair was frayed and his clothes hung errant on his frame, but otherwise he appeared without injury, much to Sheah’s relief. He stood in the doorway and smirked cheerfully upon seeing his teammates unharmed.

  “Well,” he breathed. “…Weren’t that somethin’?”

  “Dez!” Sheah directed her ecstatic energies at him instead. She wrapped him in a hearty embrace. “We did it!” she shouted.

  “That we did, Ms. Ziedler,” Dez chuckled, patting her on the back. “That we did…”

  “I simply cannot believe it.”

  “Ah, I never had a doubt.”

  “…Wait a moment!” Suddenly, Sheah sprang upright, her smile flattening. In all the excitement, she had forgotten perhaps the most important thing of all. “Kaelis! Is she—?”

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  As if on cue, Kaelis hobbled up the stairs and into the bridge, a thick sheet of gauze wrapped around her bloody thigh. She braced her hand against the wall and glared at her companions, her face creased with steely displeasure.

  “Kaelis!” Sheah screamed with joy. She rushed over and gave her the biggest hug of all. “Oh Kaelis, I was so worried!”

  Kaelis groaned, the air squeezed from her lungs. She stood completely still as Sheah held her, stone faced, not returning the embrace.

  “That was the single most reckless thing I have ever witnessed,” said Sheah, her eyes glistening with jubilant tears. “But I am so glad that you did it!”

  Dez scratched his head. “Did I miss somethin’?”

  Kaelis stared ahead, her gaze glazed over, her lips pursed. She remained bitterly speechless.

  “You were right,” Sheah admitted, catching Kaelis’s eyes. “I was a fool to think otherwise. I hope you will forgive me. The instant you leapt from the ship, I realized that I was acting like a short-sighted craven. We cannot leave teammates behind, not ever, no matter the cost.”

  At last, Kaelis’s stern expression seemed to crack, softening slightly. After a few more silent seconds, she limply returned the hug. “I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled.

  Jira yanked back on the cruise control lever as the ship gently puttered across the flat expanse ahead of them. She stood and took a step over to Kaelis, her head held tall, her shoulders slung back with militant poise. Without a word, she thrust out her hand.

  Kaelis angled her head and stared down at Jira’s outstretched palm in confusion. After a moment, she looked the Captain in the face and slowly took her hand. The Captain promptly performed a single strong handshake and threw Kaelis a most meaningful nod—apology and praise all wrapped into one.

  Kaelis’s icy demeanor finally melted away completely. She simply smiled. “Thank you, Captain.”

  Jira pointed to her bloodied bandages. “We’ll find you some glue. It shouldn’t scar.”

  “Great. Thanks,” said Kaelis, equal parts sarcastic and sincere. “Probably too late to bring on a real medic, I assume?”

  Sheah rubbed her arm and mumbled evasively. Given their lack of finances, they would simply have to make due on their own.

  Jira returned to the driver’s seat. Sheah and the others assembled behind her. Together, they eyed the wasteland ahead of them, watching as the silhouettes of the distant mountains steadily merged with the night sky.

  “So, where we headin’?” asked Dez.

  Kaelis pulled the journal from its storage cubby. She slapped it down on the dashboard. “North,” she boldly announced.

  Dez shrugged. “I know north. But where?”

  “To start, best to lose ourselves in the desert as well as we can,” said Sheah. “Doubtless Verloren has alerted whatever ships they have in the area to search for us.”

  “Right. And then what?”

  “Then it’s a simple trip,” said Kaelis, skimming through the journal’s pages. “We get through Richter’s Pass, pick up the trail of the Lost Collective, get the key to the Salvation Gate—maybe do a quick pit stop at Fort Schirm—and then it’s straight on to Ama-Lasria!”

  “Er, that don’t sound so simple to me,” Dez muttered.

  “It doubtless won’t be,” Sheah agreed. “But there is no turning back now. Whatever may come, we must make it to the Dead City. We have no other choice.”

  “Hm,” said Jira.

  On that sobering note, Sheah and her teammates trailed off into silence. They stared into space, each daunted by the long road before them.

  At once, Sheah felt a shudder in her heart. Here she was, at the precipice of adventure, a lifelong dream made real, and yet all that she felt was fear—fear of the unseen future, of the potential perils laying in wait: Unbound and Verloren apiece, and the harsh conditions of the wintry north. And yet, despite her many worries, she could not allow herself to falter or to doubt. She would make it Ama-Lasria. For her uncle, for her family, for herself, she would do it. She had to. Closing her eyes, she prayed to the Angels for strength.

  After a time, Dez cleared his throat. “So, uh, this is it?” he asked, unable to shake his disbelief. “We really doin’ this?”

  Jira nodded. “This is it.”

  “Indeed,” said Sheah. “The dead city of Ama-Lasria. An expedition to end all expeditions.” She glanced back at her crew and grinned. “Immortality awaits.”

  Kaelis looked to the horizon, determination setting upon her face as she took in the limitless road. Smiling to herself brightly, she whispered, “The amber of the ages…”

  With that, the crew of the Redland Runner settled around the driver’s seat, hunkering down as their ship sped into the night. Together they peered out into the vast frontier, towards a wide world beyond the boundaries of the known.

  Their adventure was only beginning.