“Everyone’s on board but Gloriana. Engines look good, propeller’s in place. We’re ready on your signal, Captain.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. Then, turning her gaze toward the jetty walls, she muttered, “Now we wait.”

“I hope this works,” Sledge said, echoing her own thoughts.

“It’ll work,” Nettle answered with complete confidence. “Captain Caledonia is the steeliest on the seas.”

“You brought us a guppy,” Triple teased, reaching out to flick one of Nettle’s ribbons, which had reappeared in all their rainbow splendor.

“Guppy?!” Nettle did her best to look offended. “What does that make you?”

Triple smiled, leaning in close to the girl. “A snapper!”

Nettle laughed, slapping at Triple. The girl had a way of charming anyone, which was probably how she’d survived so long. It was certainly how she’d worked her way onto Caledonia’s crew.

“Look!” Nettle exclaimed quietly, bouncing on her toes and pointing.

The group turned toward the jetty walls, where blinking orange lights marked the top of each one. At first, it was hard to tell if they were moving. Then a small slice of black ocean appeared where before there had been only metal. They were opening.

“She did it,” Sledge said with some amazement.

A small victorious feeling lodged in Caledonia’s chest. She pushed it away. “Now all she has to do is get here, and we do the rest.”

“There she is!” Nettle whispered.

A figure appeared on the wharf, dashing between the shadows on her way to the ship. She was still some distance away when three figures skulked out of the shadows behind her. A patrol team.

“She’s not going to make it,” Triple said, pulling her gun. “Not without help.”

“We shoot, we lose our advantage,” Caledonia said, eyes pinned to Gloriana, wishing she could do more than wait and watch. “Hold your fire.”

Triple’s fingers flexed around her gun, but on this point, Caledonia felt her nerves turning to steel. She wanted to help Gloriana and she would, but not at the risk of everyone else under her command. Not at the risk of her crew.

On the wharf, the patrol team had gained on Gloriana, calling her to a halt. She stopped, hands climbing in the air. She was caught and she knew it. Before she turned to face the patrol, she waved her hand once. It was a message: go.

“Spin up the engines, Harwell,” Caledonia commanded. “Sledge, get the gunners on the aft deck. But don’t fire until you have to.”

“What about Gloriana?” Nettle asked, alarmed. “She risked everything to help us. We can’t just leave her!”

Guilt and regret made a familiar knot in Caledonia’s belly. “She did and we can. Now, I want you on the helm.”

“Wait!” Nettle cried, racing down the gangway with something small clutched in her hand. “I can help!”

“Nettle!” Caledonia shouted, but to no avail.