“We trust you to lead us,” Triple added. “But this isn’t about trust. This is about history. We left him in the past, and you’re asking us to make him a part of our future. It is the last thing we expected from you.”

At that Caledonia smiled. “It surprises me, too. I tried to kill him the first time I met him.” She paused. “And maybe a few times after that.”

Triple laughed, tossing her golden braids over her shoulder. “First Oran, then Lir? Fivesons really are the same. Unkillable bloat fish.”

An unexpected heat flooded Caledonia’s cheeks. “There’s an essential difference between the two of them.”

“What’s that?” Triple asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oran didn’t try to kill me back.”

Night pressed thick on the rooftops of Slipmark as one by one, the Blades slipped out of Barrack D. They chose different paths, ghosting their way toward the Beacon until most of their crew was secretly aboard.

Caledonia and Sledge were the last to leave, jogging together in unison. The streets were iced in solar light while the sky above collected a scatter of puffy clouds glowing with moonlight. The only sounds were the near whisper of their footsteps and the regular pattern of their breath. Caledonia tried to focus on the plan, but her mind kept skipping out past the jetties to where her crew had endured a full high tide inside those cans. She wanted to believe that every one of them had survived, but she also knew it was unlikely. Improbable, even.

Her girls had survived the improbable before, she reminded herself. They were smart and strong and resourceful. There were ways to survive in the water, and surviving was their job right now. Everything else was up to her.

Caledonia reeled her thoughts back into the harbor. They had precious few advantages right now, but chief among them was the fact that the Bullets of Slipmark had spent so much time protecting the harbor from external threats that they wouldn’t be expecting one that came from within.

She and Sledge emerged a hundred yards north of the ship and paused long enough to ensure the wharf was clear. Everything looked bigger without the constant crowd of Bullets. The solar lights were dimmed, their bluish light transforming the wharf into a wintery landscape. Cautiously, they stepped into the open, crossing to jog beneath ship hulls where the shadows were deeper.

As they drew nearer to the Beacon’s dark hull, the only sign that things were not as they should be was the slack in the lines. They’d been uncoiled from the cleats on deck, ready to shove off the minute Gloriana stepped aboard.

Sledge picked up speed as they approached the gangway. Harwell greeted them on deck with a wide smile that was equal parts eagerness and anxiety.

“Report,” Caledonia said in a hushed voice.