They cut around the press of jeering Bullets and down an empty wharf with a clear view of the crew. There, on the wharf opposite where they stood now, Bullets were driving the girls up a gangway to stand on the deck of a ship. One by one, her girls appeared, each with hands bound before her.

Amina stood at the front of their group with her long black braids falling behind her. She looked thinner than before, but her eyes tracked the skies above, no doubt for signs from her spirits. At her side stood Hime. The smaller girl held her hands tucked against her chest as she counted each crew member to board the ship behind her. There was Tin and her four sisters, Pippa and Folly, Far, and even Ares, each covered in bruises and old blood.

Caledonia’s chest squeezed tightly. She was at once desperately relieved to see them alive and fighting the voice in the back of her head that said it was too soon. They weren’t ready. Their ship wasn’t ready. She had only just settled on a plan.

The last of her crew to board was tall and broad-shouldered with a cap of black hair. Pisces. Caledonia clenched her jaw to stop herself from crying out.

Then, a voice rose over the harbor.

“Fiveson Oran!” Sister called. “We offer you a choice.”

Caledonia had been so fixated on the sight of her crew boarding that ship that she’d missed the group waiting on the dock below. Now she could see Sister in her cream and orange robes standing before the figure of a boy covered in wounds. Her voice fell on them from above where it was piped through slender speakers.

“Demonstrate your regret and your fealty by putting each of them to rest, or, join them in the device of your own making.”

Two Bullets stepped between Sister and Oran, bearing loaded guns. They offered them to Oran, along with an end to his own suffering if he chose to shoot each and every member of Caledonia’s crew.

Nettle drew a sharp breath.

Oran stepped toward the boys, pushing his shoulders back with obvious effort. Then he turned and slowly walked up the gangway to stand with Caledonia’s crew. His crew.

Sister nodded, and the engine of that ship began to growl, preparing to take her crew away and lock them in those dreadful cans where they would be forced to tread water for as long as they were able.

“Hoist your eyes,” Caledonia whispered, knowing there was no way they could hear her.

But Pisces turned her head, looked directly at Caledonia. And in spite of the distance between them, in spite of the Bullet clothing and short blonde spikes of Caledonia’s hair, Pisces knew her sister.

I’m coming for you, Caledonia signed, making each sign as loudly as she dared. Hold on.