The thief pranced and danced across the grid of girders on the underside of the Bruckhaven superstructure, squeezing through pipes and access walkways, until at last he emerged onto a secluded alcove overlooking the Grand Ravine far below. The hidden space had all the markings of a proper thief’s den, littered with architectural diagrams and an array of heist supplies, all collected around a tastefully cluttered workbench. Sat in the corner, nestled underneath a wall of ducts, was a large wooden chest overflowing with an assortment of uniforms and disguises. Traipsing over to the chest, the thief sat himself atop it and took a moment to himself, breathing in his latest conquest.

  After a spell, the burglar threw back his hood and shed his drab deacon robes, revealing his jazzily flashy ensemble beneath. He was a slick and slender man, effeminately smooth, with sharp eyes and a razor-thin mustache adding just an extra dash of gentlemanly sophistication. Strapped across his satin vest was a bespoke holster, perfectly enclasping the stolen Varian statuette. The thief carefully extracted the relic from its cradle and held it up to his eyes, grinning brightly at its golden features glistening in the evening sun. Filled with triumph, he mirthfully snickered to himself, deeply absorbed in the treasure.

  So absorbed, in fact, that he’d completely failed to notice Dez watching him from the corner, having been there that entire time.

  “A good score, eh, Tycho?” Dez loudly announced, a friendly smirk slapped across his face.

  Tycho twitched and yelped, his prize nearly fumbling out of his hands. Quickly reclaiming his nerves, he swiveled around to face his unexpected guest.

  “Ah, Dezmondus, my friend!” Tycho exclaimed, a broad and merry smile flourishing on his lips. “What an enchanting surprise! And just when I thought this moment couldn't get better.” Unslinging the holster from his chest, the thief bound over to welcome his dear chum. The two men embraced each other with a hearty hug. “It has been too long.”

  “Yeah, it has,” mused Dez, marveling at the passage of time. “Keepin’ busy I see.”

  “But of course!” the thief proclaimed. “If one is to ascend to the top of the Thieves Union, then one mustn’t partake in the sweet temptations of leisure.”

  “Uh, right…”

  “You know, I should be thanking you for your unscheduled visit. I must admit, you took me by complete surprise. I shall have to work to further hone my awareness to a razor point! Now, tell me—” Tycho stared at Dez, his eyes aflame with unquenched curiosity. “What brings you to my surreptitious little hideaway?”

  Dez chuckled. “Well, it’s kinda funny, actually. See, me an’ my crew was sittin’ in the back of the Varian sanctum, saw ya pinch that thing,” he explained, pointing to the statuette. “Thought it best to chase ya down.”

  “Oh, is that so?” said Tycho, very amused. “You were among my pursuers?”

  “Yeah,” said Dez. “Well, sorta. It were mostly Jira on yer tail there, least it were before I split off. See, I happened to recognize ya after a bit, and once I did I figured where you was headin’.”

  “Oooohohoho…” chortled Tycho, replaying the chase in his head, his wry grin growing wider. “What a delightfully odd turn of events! And that was Jira, was it? So lovely to have finally met her.”

  Dez put his hands on his hips. “She’s none too pleased that you’re stealin’ sacred Varian relics, ya know.”

  “Oh, this?” Tycho said, holding up the statuette. “This is naught but a simple exercise. I always intended on returning it.” With a theatrical flourish he placed the golden object into Dez’s hands. “Let it be known that Tycho Soelva is, and forever shall be, a thief of honor!”

  “Much appreciated.” Dez cradled the relic, nodding to himself pleasantly—at least one thing was able to go right today. “…Listen, while I’m here…” he murmured, shifting his weight around nervously. “I hate to do this, but me and the crew are in a bit of a bind.” He learned in closer. “Ya think I could ask a favor?”

  “But of course, my friend!” Tycho laughed without a moment’s hesitation. “Tell me, what is it you would like me to steal?”

  “No, it’s nothin’ like that,” said Dez, causing Tycho to hang his head in disappointment. “I were wonderin’—ya still got that old apartment?”

  Kaelis’s strange day had only gotten stranger. After spending forty-five minutes trying to coax Sheah off the ladder, who should show but Dez, statuette in hand and accompanied by the very thief they’d been chasing less than an hour earlier. Kaelis, like the rest of the team, was flabbergasted at first, but on reflection she realized she shouldn’t have been so shocked that the two were acquainted—knowing Dez, and the breadth of his network, it almost would have been more surprising if he and Tycho hadn’t known each other. And now she and the others were following the thief through a dim and dreary corridor, painted the color of puke and lit by a single flickering filament bulb, off to borrow his back-up apartment. A strange day, indeed…

  “Do not let the hall discourage you, my darlings,” said Tycho, gesturing at the walls damp with an unknown liquid. “I assure you, it does not reflect the state of my abode.”

  Arriving at the hallway’s final door, Tycho undid the lock and threw it open. He flicked on the lights with flair, revealing to the team a cramped and dingy studio apartment, with aggressively loud floral wallpaper and a single window facing out over the bridge’s northern end. A few smatterings of second-hand furniture, including a rumpled floor mattress, were the only basic comforts the lodging seemed to provide.

  Kaelis pursed her lips, unsure why she’d expected anything more. At least it was mostly clean.

  “And here we are,” Tycho announced, grandly presenting the room. “My darling little safe house. My home away from home!” He held open the door and performed a dignified bow, motioning for the team to enter.

  Standing herself tall, Sheah edged her way into the apartment, all while politely attempting to conceal her discomfort. She deposited the bags of loot onto a crooked dining table and placed herself into an equally uneven chair.

  Kaelis followed shortly behind and spun herself around, seeing all that the apartment had to offer in a single turn. She glanced over at the window, catching the view outside. “Hey, you can see the docks from here!” she announced.

  “Binoculars are on the dresser, my dear!” Tycho informed her.

  Kaelis swiftly swiped the set of lenses from their resting place and sprang over to the windowsill. Bringing the binoculars to her face, she spied on the scene below her.

  “Whoa…” she quickly gasped.

  Dez had mentioned there being a modest Verloren presence at the docks when he’d fled, but something must’ve changed since. In the span of only a few hours, the entirety of Trident Station had become completely overrun by company personnel. Hundreds of Verloren Industries guards and workers were now swarming over all three platforms, while a steady stream of corporate warships were rolling in from the highway and settling into the available ports. Kaelis pursed her lips, barely able to believe what she was seeing.

  Jira stepped past the doorframe. Tycho greeted her with a cheerful smile. “Right this way, Capt—”

  “Move.” She stormed inside, checking Tycho lightly with her shoulder

  “Again, twas only practice, nothing personal,” he expressed, rubbing his arm, no offense taken.

  Jira grunted, apology not accepted.

  As Dez brought up the rear, Tycho readied himself to exit. “Well, you delightful lot, I’m off!” he declared, dropping the apartment’s keys into his friend’s hand. He slid over and wrapped his fingers around the doorknob. “Please do make yourselves at home. I’ll check in with you on the morrow. Byeee!” Singing his farewell, he swung the door shut and disappeared.

  The team all exchanged weary stares, taking a moment to drink in their dismal surroundings as Tycho’s footsteps faded from ear.

  “…I hate him,” grumbled Jira.

  “He is a bit… much,” Sheah tepidly agreed.

  Dez shrugged. “Ah, he ain’t so bad once you get to know ‘im.”

  Huffing, Jira moved to join Kaelis at the window. “Vintra, you’re quiet. What’s the situation?” she asked.

  “I… I don’t know,” Kaelis admitted, keeping the binoculars glued to her face. “Verloren… They’ve taken over the docks.”

  “What?!” At once, Jira and the rest of the crew anxiously wedged themselves around the window.

  “Looks like they have attack-ships in half the ports,” said Kaelis, “and they just keep comin’.”

  “Angels above…” Dez croaked, his face falling long.

  Sheah brought her eyes closer to the window. “What of the Redland Runner? Can you see it?”

  “Uh, hold on.” Scanning the dockyards, Kaelis quickly zeroed in on her team’s small landship. It sat just where they’d left it, parked in the middle port of the middle platform, now surrounded by a maelstrom of viridian ships and uniforms. Zooming in, she studied the scene closer, only to immediately notice that something was very wrong—the Red had been burdened with a new piece of equipment. Clamped over the front wheel was an enormous iron fastener, anchoring the entire ship firmly to the tarmac.

  “Oh, ass…” Kaelis muttered. Placing the binoculars down, she gave her teammates a troubled look. “They booted the ship.”

  “Booted?!” Sheah gasped. “Oh, calamity! Now how are we to proceed?!” She threw herself onto a frayed sofa and buried her face in her hands.

  “So many warships…” murmured Dez, stroking his mustache as he tried to make sense of it all. “I ain’t never seen nothin’ like this before.”

  “The whole corporate armada must be down there…” said Kaelis. “…And they’re all comin’ to kill us.”

  “Well, hold on now,” said Dez. “Let’s not jump to no conclusions.”

  “Well, what else are they here for?”

  “Look, I dunno, but…” Dez let out a flustered sigh. “…You girls is absolutely positive Verloren’s tryin’ to do us in?”

  “Uh, yeah. Seras Pfeiffer personally threatened to shoot me in the heart. I feel like that makes this whole thing pretty clear.”

  “And yer sure she weren’t just bein’ sarcastic?”

  “Dez. C’mon.”

  “Yes, there is no mistaking the situation,” Sheah affirmed. “Regardless of the truth, Verloren has branded us as thieves, and they will stop at nothing until the find us. And believe me when I say that they are capable of far more than you realize. If we are caught, then we will all be dispatched for certain.”

  Dez soberly nodded. “Hmm, alright then…” he said. “Well, frettin’ about it ain’t gonna do us any good. Best thing we can do now is take a step back and figure us a way outta this jam.”

  “But what options do we have left?” said Sheah. “We cannot remain hidden for long; Verloren’s network is both thorough and pervasive. Even if we could somehow abscond from the city, it is only a matter of days, if not hours, before all of our faces are plastered across every public square throughout the Empire.”

  “Sheah’s right,” said Kaelis. “We should go out shooting.”

  “That is not what I said!”

  “We could always go to the Union,” Dez suggested. “I know some folks who might be willin’ to help us out.”

  Sheah shook her head. “Do you not recall? It was the Union that allowed Verloren to invade the docks in the first place. I am unable to see how they could possibly aid us now.”

  “Hey now, the Union is still good folks. I dunno what’s goin’ on over there, but they’ll have our backs, I know it.”

  Kaelis threw Dez a doubtful look. “I think Sheah’s right. We’re on our own here.”

  “Okay, well…” Dez took a seat on a rickety stool. “Then we go above everyone’s heads, straight to the magistrate. We didn’t steal nothin’, we didn't break no laws. If we explain ourselves, maybe they can get Verloren to back off.”

  “Even if the Empire could protect us, we still breached the Union rules of conduct,” said Kaelis. “When they hear we caused this mess we’re gonna be blacklisted on the spot. That’s it—no more expeditions, no nothin’. Our lives are over either way!”

  “Lords above, fine,” sighed Dez, growing exasperated. “Then let’s just bite the bullet and go to Verloren directly. Get on our knees and beg em’ fer forgiveness. If they agree to drop the charges, things go back to normal.”

  “Oh please,” scoffed Kaelis. “There’s absolutely no way that’d work.”

  “Well, what other choice do we have?!” Dez cried. “Feels to me like I’m the only one suggestion’ things here, and I can’t think of no other options. Maybe if we figure out what Verloren’s after we can cut a deal, try an’ reason with ‘em. They can’t just be chasin’ us for pride, clearly we got somethin’ they want.”

  “But what could we possibly possess that could be worth killing over?” asked Sheah.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  At once, the team stopped their bickering. They turned to face Jira, who stood behind them, arms folded, a steely glare on her face.

  “That journal,” she revealed.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “…The journal?” Suddenly, Kaelis gasped, the pieces all clicking into place. She ripped the book out of her pocket and held it up. “They’re after the map to Ama-Lasria!” she declared.

  “That is the reason for all of this?” Sheah queried. “Verloren is setting out for the Dead City?”

  “Explains the ships,” said Jira, gesturing her head to the docks.

  Kaelis took a moment to reassess their situation. “So… They’re not just here for us?”

  “Hm, ‘spose not,” said Dez, stroking his mustache. “Ya know, now that I think about it, I have been hearin’ a lotta rumors ‘bout Verloren these last couple months. Most of ‘em was about how the company were planning somethin’ real big, only no one could say what. Guess now we know.”

  Sheah tapped a finger against her cheek. “But without the map, they won’t be able to navigate the Forever Storm.”

  “There’s probably millions of saebles on the line here, and who knows what else,” said Kaelis. She held up the book. “Makes sense they’d be willing to do anythin’ to get their hands on this.”

  “It all adds up,” Dez agreed. “I’d put my winnings down on that there journal bein’ the source of our troubles.”

  “Hmm…” Jira folded her arms and slunk into the corner, a stony look chiseled into her face. She bowed her head, debating internally.

  “All this fuss for that dusty little thing,” glowered Sheah. She pointed a stern finger at Kaelis. “I told you to leave it.”

  “Hey, this ‘thing’ is the most precious artifact anyone has ever found!” Kaelis argued. “Verloren clearly thinks so. Only an idiot would have left it behind!”

  “You didn’t know that at the time! If you had just listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this plight.”

  “Uh, excuse me?” Kaelis hit back, returning Sheah’s accusatory finger. “You’re the one who took this dirty job in the first place!”

  “I was only trying to keep everyone happy!”

  “Oh, and a lot of good that did.” Kaelis gestured her arms around the room. “I’m not seein’ a whole lotta happy smiles around here. Face it, this whole thing is your fault!”

  Sheah recoiled. She glanced away, her righteous anger fracturing in an instant, replaced by a look of remorse.

  “Enough,” Jira sternly bellowed.

  “No, Captain, she’s right.” Sheah cast her gaze to the floor, her voice as soft as a whisper. “She’s… she’s right…” Without so much as a sigh, she sulked back onto the patchy sofa and plunged her head in her hands. “…This is my fault, every part of it. I forced this mess upon you… You would all be far better off had you never known me…”

  “Hmm…” Jira sadly breathed.

  Sheah slumped deeper. “…I am no good to anyone…”

  Jira closed her eyes a moment, grunting in deep thought. Then with a huff, her mind made up about something, she abruptly marched over to Kaelis and snatched the journal out of her hands.

  “H—Hey!” Kaelis cried.

  Book in tow, Jira stormed back to Sheah and threw it in her lap. “Then give it back,” she demanded.

  Sheah looked at the journal and then up at Jira, perplexed. “Captain?” she muttered.

  “If you have no worth, then give Verloren the book. Turn yourself in.”

  Dez squirmed. “Uh, Jira, you feelin’ okay?”

  “We can’t just give up the journal!” Kaelis shouted, lunging for it.

  “Stop!” Jira barked. She thrust out a commanding hand, halting Kaelis in her tracks. Swiveling back around, she looked straight into Sheah’s eyes. “This is your mess,” she said. “You are the owner of this company. Do your duty.”

  Sheah stammered, clearly shocked by the harshness of Jira’s words. She searched for a response. “B—but… They… They won’t just…”

  “You do this, and at least the rest of us go free.”

  Sheah vented out a breath, letting it all sink in. “I… But what will happen to my ship?”

  The whole crew looked towards Dez for an answer. Suddenly on the spot, he scratched his bald spot nervously. “Oh, uh, most likely they’ll scrap it for their troubles,” he said.

  Slowly, Sheah sank deeper into her seat, as if flattened by the weight of the world.

  “Okay, guys, this is crazy.” Kaelis waved her hands around, filled with immediate regret. “We can’t let her—”

  Jira lifted a firm finger and shot Kaelis a knowing look. After a split-second of confusion, she finally understood—Captain Sirroza knew exactly what she was doing. Quieting down, Kaelis faded into the background, letting Jira take the lead.

  “You said it yourself—you have failed,” Jira said, returning her attention to Sheah. “Why fight it? Give it up. No more ship, no more company, no more expeditions. This is the end of the road.”

  “…The end?” Sheah squeaked.

  “That’s how it is.” Jira lowered herself to Sheah’s eye level and shot her a provoking look. “Verloren Industries beat you.”

  Sheah suddenly twitched. Hunching over, she stared motionlessly at the floor for what seemed like ages. Then, gradually, something seemed to shift in her. Little by little, her anguished expression dissolved away.

  “…No,” she whispered.

  Jira cracked a subtle grin. “No?”

  Lifting her head, Sheah revealed her face hardened with conviction. “Verloren will take naught from me again,” she declared.

  “Then what will you do?” Jira said as she stood, placing her hands on her hips.

  “I… I’ll do something they can’t anticipate,” said Sheah. “I’ll… I’ll…” She lowered her gaze to the journal in her hands. Hovering there for a moment, her eyes gradually grew wide with possibilities. “Kaelis—” she then blurted, snapping her attention towards her teammate.

  “Huh? Me?”

  “You said that this journal contains a path through the Forever Storm, yes?”

  “Uh, yeah,” said Kaelis, scratching her neck, confused. “It’s all there, just gotta follow the dotted line.”

  “I see. Good. Dez—” Sheah sat up straighter. “If the Redland Runner were fully stocked, how long would it take to reach the northern pole?”

  Jira slowly backed herself against the wall. Crossing her arms, she watched her scheme unfold, plainly pleased with herself.

  Dez blinked at Sheah’s question, a look of unease tenting his brows. “Oh, uh, f—from here, no stops?” he stammered. “Er, I reckon ‘bout out six weeks or so. But yer not actually—”

  “Six weeks? Plus the return trip and any potential delays? …Yes, we could do it… We could do it!”

  At once, Sheah launched to her feet. “Everyone, listen—” she announced, a fire growing in her eyes. “I have devised a plan. There is only one way to get ourselves out of this mire, one way to beat Verloren for good.” She leaned in, her face steeling with resolve. “We must go to Ama-Lasria.”

  Kaelis instantly shivered with excitement. “Really?!” she exclaimed.

  Dez shook his head in horror. “Y—you can’t be serious!”

  “I am most serious,” Sheah answered to both. “Think—this is our best means of surmounting our pursuers and restoring our reputation. If we can be the first to enter the Dead City and return with treasure as proof, then even Emperor Valdir himself would bestow us with the highest of honors. We can wield the subsequent fame and glory as a shield, and Verloren Industries would be forever powerless to touch us.”

  “Y—yeah, maybe, but—”

  “It also occurs to me: a successful voyage to Ama-Lasria would yield not only great fortune, but great exposure as well—exposure that could propel us to heights hitherto untold. Imagine it: this could be the beginnings of the first independently operated expeditionary fleet in the world! We would be fools to pass up an opportunity of this magnitude.”

  “But—but Verloren!” Dez stammered, shrinking into himself. “The danger!”

  “Verloren’s might is irrelevant,” Sheah boomed. “I refuse to let these thugs intimidate me any longer. No, if Aurik Metzer and his cronies wish to stop me, then they will need to track me down and pry this journal from my cold, lifeless hands. I cannot let my uncle’s death be in vain; he believed in me when none else would, and I shan’t let him down! With the Angels as my witness, I will make this the greatest expeditionary company in history, or I will die trying!!”

  A brief hush fell over the room as Kaelis and the others all stared at Sheah, brows raised, taken aback at her fiery conviction. Looking at her crewmates’ faces, Sheah swiftly seemed to realize she’d let her passion overcome her. She shrank back, looking embarrassed.

  “But, I, um…” she continued, casting her gaze aside. “…I understand if none of you wish to join me on this venture. If… If you were to tell Verloren that I went rogue in a fit of madness, I am certain they would let you off. Even they have principles.” Sheah rubbed her arm sheepishly. “Moreover, I… I would not be able to pay you for this job upfront—”

  “Psh—like that matters!” Unable to contain herself a second longer, Kaelis bound over to Sheah’s side and excitedly grasped her hand. “I was starting to think I’d have to find another crew,” she said, only half-joking. “You got yourself an acquisitions officer.”

  Sheah blinked, apparently shocked at Kaelis’s lack of mercenary. After a beat, she smiled in appreciation of her support. “T—thank you, Kaelis,” she said.

  “Well, don’t thank me just yet,” Kaelis replied. “We still got a long way to go, and this expedition isn’t gonna be as simple as just driving to the pole. You remember what I said this morning, right?”

  “Oh… Oh, yes,” said Sheah. “You had mentioned something about a gate?”

  “The Salvation Gate, yeah.”

  “Right… What is that? Will it be a hindrance?”

  Kaelis smirked. “Not for us,” she announced, eagerly launching into it. “So, real quick—Emris Ama-Lasria is famously sealed off by this massive defensive gate, built by the God King to withstand the Angels’ attack on him. Though ultimately it didn’t matter, since they still pushed through and sundered the Archmother. Uh, anyway, when the surviving peoples fled from the city after the war, they locked the gate behind them in order to contain the Unbound, yeah?”

  “Um… sure,” said Sheah. “…Did that work?”

  “No. Obviously. To be fair, it did take four hundred years before—that’s not important. What’s important is that the Salvation Gate has a key, and the first peoples had it on them when they emigrated south.”

  “Ah, I see,” said Sheah. “So you’re saying we need to acquire this key in order to enter the city, yes?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Very well. And where is this key now?”

  “Well, see, that’s where things get interesting,” said Kaelis. “According to a bunch of sources, a group of about five thousand people split off from the exodus somewhere in the Graven Frontier, and they were rumored to have taken the key with them. But then, the whole group just… disappeared.”

  Sheah arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they vanished from the world without a trace. These days, historians call them ‘The Lost Collective’, and for centuries now nobody’s been able to find any clues as to what happened to ‘em.” Kaelis grinned. “Until today. Check this out—” She politely took back the journal and flipped it to a middle page. “See this entry here? Tribune Arlen writes about how a group split off to form a new colony. They were heading west from what is now Zuhera Forest, making their way to the tallest mountain in the range. And most importantly, the entry specifically mentions that the leader of this group had the gate key on her.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Sheah. “So, this key—”

  Kaelis nodded. “It’s still there, somewhere near the tallest mountain in the range: Mount Duarrima.”

  Jira raised an intrigued brow.

  “Alright, let’s all hold on justa minute!” Dez declared. “This… Y—you girls is talkin’ nonsense here. Ama-Lasria, the Lost Collective… It—it’s all craziness! And—and I mean, the Collective’s just a tall tale, right? They don’t even exist!”

  Kaelis waved away Dez’s concerns. “Oh, don’t be like that, of course they do. Didn’t you hear, the journal even proves it!”

  Dez nervously rubbed his hands. “Er, well, okay, even if they do, that don’t mean we should go lookin’ fer ‘em. Last person that tried was Karl Kragen, and you remember what happened to him, don’t ya?”

  Kaelis glanced aside. “Uh, not specifically…”

  “He and his team disappeared off the face of the earth! That don’t sound like a pleasant trip to me.”

  “Oh, that wouldn’t happen to us,” Kaelis dismissed. “Not with Tribune Arlen’s journal guiding the way. We got clear landmarks to go off of, we can pick up the trail and just follow it to the Collective’s missing colony, no problem.” She returned her attention to Sheah. “Point is, if we want to get to Ama-Lasria, then we need that key. Mount Duarrima’s gotta be our first stop.”

  Sheah tapped her hand on her cheek, nodding intently. “Very well. It sounds like we have our heading.” With that, she flashed an inviting look at her teammates. “Dez, Jira—what say you? Will you join us?”

  “No,” Dez instantly answered, waving his palms around. “No way, absolutely not. I didn’t wanna say so this mornin’, but now I gotta put my foot down. No offense, Ms. Zielder, but the whole reason I signed me an’ Jira up for this crew was ‘cus we was lookin’ fer somethin’ nice and easy—and safe. Goin’ north, it’s… it’s a death sentence!”

  “Aw, Dez, what’s the big problem?” asked Kaelis. “We go up north all the time.”

  Dez scoffed. “You think the Deadlands is north? That’s nothin’; that’s a breeze. You girls ain’t been more than a thousand miles into the wastes, you got no idea what it’s really like. There’re things up there, things folks shouldn’t be messin’ with… And… the Unbound… Th—they’re…” Shaking images out of his head, Dez ceded the floor to his partner. “Jira, you—you tell ‘em,” he implored. “You know what it’s like. Go on, try an’ talk some sense into ‘em.”

  Jira stood there, her gaze dragged down by heavy thoughts. After hesitating for a breath, she flashed Dez a look of remorse before lifting her head, meeting Sheah’s eyes. “I’m in,” she declared.

  “Wh—what?” Dez sputtered. He watched on in horror as his partner moved to join Kaelis and Sheah across the room. “Jira, what?! No!” Shaking his head, he clenched his eyes, utterly bewildered. “Jira, you won’t… I… I ain’t goin’!” he insisted. “I’m sorry, but… but yer gonna have to be on yer own this time.”

  “C’mon Dez, you can’t stay behind,” Kaelis beckoned. “We need you! Besides, you heard what Sheah said: this is our only way out. You don’t wanna have to hide for the rest of your life, do ya? And more than that, this is our chance to do something historic! Ooh, what if when we go to the Dead City, we nab something that belonged to the God King?! Dez, could you imagine it? We’d come back as legends. Legends!”

  “You think I care ‘bout that stuff?!” Dez yelled, leveling his teammates’ inviting smiles in an instant. “You ain’t gettin’ it. If we go up there, then we’re all gonna die, it’s plain as that. Them lands, they’s infested with the Unbound… crawlin’ with ‘em… A—and…” He tried to steady his breath. “…And I hear stories. People seein’ things… things that ain’t normal… and that’s comin’ from the folks that return. Dozens of ships go missin’ in the high north every year—people I known, friends, they went up there… and they never came back…”

  “Oh, Dez,” Sheah soothed. “You’ve nothing to fear. We shall be right there with you.”

  “That ain’t gonna make a difference!” Dez cried out. “The Unbound, they…” He ran a trembling hand across his head. “…You ain’t seen the things they can do to a person. And then, even if we somehow made it up there, the Archmother, the powers of the Sunderin’… The—that there journal said they saw folks that got turned into beasts. What if that happens to us?!”

  “Dez.” Jira spoke softly, taking a step towards him.

  “No!” He stood firm, shaking his head. “No, this is suicide. It’s suicide!”

  Moving in close, Jira laid a gentle hand on her partner’s shoulder, calming his nerves. “Dez, my Anaia… please,” she breathed, her eyes pleadingly wide. “Please.” She paused, taking a moment to collect her words. “…This is my chance,” she said, “to erase my past, to do something… good… But I need you with me. I can’t get there on my own.”

  Dez threw his sights to the floor. “Jira” he whimpered. “You… you know I…”

  Jira lowered herself into Dez’s eyeline. Capturing his gaze, she gave him a tender smile, exposing a softness seldom seen. “You will be safe,” she said. “I promise you.”

  Dez stared into Jira’s eyes for a moment before glancing away again. He hovered there, clenching and unclenching his fists, wheezing out a heavy breath. His mustache trembled and his eyes shook, a storm clearly rattling through his brain. Then, softly, he shut his eyes. Little by little, his panting slowed and his face relaxed. Steadying himself with a sigh, he weakly nodded and placed his hand atop Jira’s. “I… I’ll think about it,” he finally whispered.

  A long breath passed. Kaelis stared at Dez, a smile slowly lifting her cheeks. “…Is that a yes?” she asked, standing on pins.

  Lightly laughing through his nose, Dez gave her a subtle grin. “Yeah, Kaelis,” he said. “…I’m comin’ too.”

  “Huzzah!” Kaelis immediately squealed. She rushed across the room and wrapped Dez in a tight hug.

  “Oof!” he squeaked, managing to utter the slightest chuckle. As Kaelis released him from her grip, he glanced over at Jira again. She gave him a warm nod. He returned it in kind. Standing straight, struggling to bury his fears, he marched over to Sheah and formally extended his hand. “Okay,” he announced. “You got yerself an engineer.”

  Sheah gleefully grasped his hand and shook. “We are lucky to have you aboard,” she expressed.

  Dez softly smiled in return.

  Kaelis threw out her hands. “Then it’s settled!” she exclaimed.

  “Indeed it is!” Sheah echoed. Gathering her teammates around her, she glanced at each in turn before thrusting a bold finger to the sky. “To Ama-lasria!” she declared. “To victory over Verloren!”

  “And our names in the history books!” amended Kaelis.

  “Yes, that as well.”

  Jira assented to both with a strong nod. “To Ama-Lasria.”

  “Uh, y—yeah,” said Dez.

  “Woohoo!” Kaelis let out a cheer, unable to restrain herself. She grinned widely and threw her arms over Dez and Sheah’s shoulders. “I got a good feelin’ about this one.”

  The team buzzed with excitement for a short while longer before slowly fading into silence. Little by little, their smiles drifted from their lips as the reality of it all finally started to sink in. They stood around in an uneasy quiet, hanging there for a moment too long.

  “Ahem!—So, Boss,” Kaelis loudly started, clapping away the lull. “What’s our next move?”

  Sheah nodded, a plan plainly in her head already. “Right, well, first thing’s first,” she said, glancing around at her crew. “We all get some much needed rest.” Her teammates returned fatigued looks, agreeing with her completely. “Then,” she said, her intensity growing, “our next objective is clear.” She marched over to the window and peered through the glass. Her team gathered behind her. Together, they looked out at the docks—at the growing sea of hostiles, and the small red landship parked in the middle of it all.

  Sheah steeled her glare.

  “We take back our ship.”