Nettle slowed their approach. Caledonia couldn’t help but be reminded of the last time they’d come here. Her crew had been so different then. Half as big and not yet fractured by loss and anger at their captain. Redtooth had been alive.

It was getting easier to think of the girl, of her red-tipped braids and her beautiful battle cry, of her incredible strength and her soft, soft heart; Caledonia could hear her voice now, grumbling about no good options as they’d threaded those protective breaker islands in the Mors Navis.

They’d been a marked ship and come in under cover of the morning fog, but this time Caledonia didn’t want cover. She wanted Hesperus to see her. The fastest way to do that was to appear like a threat, and for that, all she needed to do was take her Bullet ship right up to the breaker islands and wait. On the main deck, Sledge and Pine positioned teams to port and starboard. Their numbers visible, but unarmed as a sign of peace. Far on the aft deck was Oran. While the rest of them had turned their eyes west, he kept his on the eastern horizon.

It took even less time than she’d anticipated. No sooner had they cut their own engines when they spotted a boat zipping away from the wharf. It was barely more than a dinghy, but its engine growled against the water and it aimed directly for them.

Pisces and Caledonia stood high on the command deck. Amina joined them, the crest of her braids freshly knotted in place. Then came Hime, her injured hand tightly wrapped in cloth instead of bandages. They circled Caledonia out of habit, and she realized with a sudden pang that this was the first time they’d all come together like this. Her stones; flint, granite, agate. It was a smaller circle than it had once been, but in many ways it was stronger now. Memories of Lace and Redtooth would always weave between them; their sunny citrine and stoic marble girls would never be entirely lost.

“Looks like company.” Amina tracked the approaching boat.

“I don’t see any weapons,” Pisces added.

They don’t know what we are, Hime offered smartly.

With a nod, Caledonia strode forward so that she would be visible from the water. Behind her, she felt the girls fan around her, readying weapons.

The small boat cruised alongside the Beacon. A figure stood on the prow dressed in deep grays and bearing the cerulean blue capelet of the Sly King’s guard. She had cool, brown skin and a shorn head.

“Caledonia Styx!” the woman called in reluctant admiration. She casually rested one hand on the hilt of a gun holstered high on her thigh. “You’re not what I expected.”