“The name is Bastian.” We shake hands. I have never seen eyes as light blue as his. And I’ve never seen someone so young with so many scars. Something about my expression has him grinning ear to ear. “You must be Imelda Beru.”

The others look up to smile at me as they pick the pockets of the dead. It takes a few seconds to realize the whole crew is younger than I thought. A bunch of rebel boys and girls.

“We came down from Sickle Pass as soon as we caught wind of what you were doing.” He nods back to the tree line. A figure is crossing the plain. “Your uncle even sent a familiar face so you’d know you could trust us.”

It’s an effort to look past the fallen Ashlords. All three are dead. The fourth is back in the desert, food for birds or wolves or worse. My eyes fix on the figure, though, and finally I recognize him. “Luca?!”

The last time I saw him he had a guitar in hand. He watched my first rebellion against Oxanos, so it’s only fitting that he’s here for my second effort. He’s exchanged the guitar for a sword, though I notice Bastian kept him out of the action just in case. We embrace in a hug.

“You’ve got every village in the Gravitas stirred up something nice,” he says, releasing me. “My father got your instructions. The plan worked.”

“So far,” Bastian puts in. “If we can help you pull this off, you’ll be a proper legend.”

I frown. “Help me pull this off? Isn’t it over now?”

Bastian’s grin widens. “You think they’ll send just four of them? What’s your take?”

That question has my eyes narrowing. “My take?”

“On the belt,” he says. “That’s what you stole, right? Components?”

I nod, but don’t answer right away. My silence drags a laugh from him.

“Look, it’s all yours. That’s a Dividian rule, a mountain rule. Every outlaw here respects that. If you steal something from the Ashlords, it belongs to you. No questions asked. And if you think I’m going to steal something from Dig’s niece, you’re out of your mind.”

Dig. I’ve never heard someone call my uncle by that nickname. Luca just nods.

“It’s safe, Imelda. That’s the code. The only threat to you now will be Ashlords.”

A weight slips off my shoulders. “Let’s just say the belt is worth a lot.”

“A hundred and fifty thousand legions sound right?” Bastian guesses.

It’s not a bad guess, either. Clearly he’s smart. “More than that.”

Some of his crewmates whistle. Bastian just keeps grinning.

“Well, you have it on you, right?”