Clo shimmied up to the second level and grabbed one of the rope bridges, waiting for one person to pass before jumping over. Her breath came hard. Despite regular training, her shoulder muscles screamed. She ignored the pain in her leg and started across the rope bridge. Some of the threading was badly frayed, wood partially rotted. The whole structure creaked.

“Please hold,” she said aloud. If it broke, she’d fracture bones. If she was lucky.

On the other side, she jumped onto cracked concrete, grunting. A man peeling potatoes glanced up briefly, then went back to his work. A rat skittered across the damp floor. She jumped over it, jogging through the quieter corridor. She checked the ground out of every window, and out of the fourth she spotted their guard.

“Gods of Avern, thank you,” she breathed. She’d guessed right; he was definitely making for the northeast exit.

She met him there.

As he passed the gate, Clo grabbed him, clamping her hand over his mouth and dragging him out into the swamp mud. A few people saw her but turned away. A tussle between two people in Empire threads—who’d want to be involved in that mire?

Clo jabbed her fingertips into his kidneys. Wham! She clocked him on the temple. He stumbled back, dazed. Wham! She slammed her fist into his face again. He went down.

Yes, she thought as she took some cables out of her tool belt. She tied his hands and feet, ripped the collar off of her mechanic’s uniform and stuffed it in his mouth.

“Yer lucky I’m the one what caught you. My partner would have shot ye in the head,” Clo said to him.

She left him in the mud. He’d be found eventually, just like the other guard.

Clo headed back through the Snarl toward the hangar. <You alive?> she thought at Eris.

Still no response.

Clo limped through her old home. It was both the same and entirely different. Here was the market where Nan Mel would look the other way when Clo filched some dried lentils. A few streets along was the mech market. Clo slowed, tempted to duck down and see what treasure was hidden among the dross.

<Clo,> Eris said. Finally. <I need you to get back to the bullet ship and haul ass to Asteria.>

<What? Why?>

<Because Zelus is taking off, Clo. Just follow it, okay?>

Clo sprinted in the direction of where they’d landed. She was already tired from running through the Snarl—her leg ached something fierce—but she kept going. She might hate the princess, but she had a job to finish. <Where are you? Did you figure out what they’re hiding in there?>

A mental sigh. <I’m in a bit of a . . . situation.>

<What kind of situation?> Her mind whirred through the options. Eris could be held hostage. Arrested. <Gods, you’re not stuck in a swamp somewhere, are you?>