Once, these meandering alleys had been indecipherable to Caledonia; they’d morphed as she passed, vendors claiming and relinquishing patches of rock almost as soon as she’d seen them. Now Caledonia traversed the streets with ease, weaving her way through the Body Quarter, then cutting between the chaotic press of hastily erected cabins that housed the crews of rogue ships until she came to the barracks that scooped across the far northern edge of town.

In the wake of the battle, Cloudbreak had gone from scheming black market town to burgeoning military operation. There were still vendors hawking their contraband wares, but they were fewer and farther between. In their place were people: families, crews, recovering Bullets, all waiting for Caledonia’s team to bring them into the fight.

Thunder boomed, closer now, and lightning splintered across the clouds, briefly illuminating pale layers of mountain ridges to the west. The wind was picking up, bringing with it the promise of colder weather on the other side of that storm. They ducked inside the barracks a second before the clouds shuddered and unleashed a sudden, torrential rain.

“Cala!” Ares stood abruptly, his voice soft with surprise as he rose from behind a desk covered in stacks of yellowed paper. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Ares had come a long way since they’d found him on Electra, since he’d drifted through the hallways of the Luminous Wake like a shadow. He’d struggled with dreams and nightmares, fear more than anger. It wasn’t what Caledonia would have expected of the boy she’d known as a child. Ares had been the sunniest of them. He’d been daring and bold and looked for any excuse to have fun. He’d also had a temper that flared hot and fast. Caledonia had assumed that would make him a better Bullet, or a tougher one. But she’d been wrong.

Being a Bullet had stolen all the joy from Ares’s eyes; it had smothered the fire behind his temper and left him with nothing but coals.

“This is an unplanned visit,” Caledonia admitted. “I’m here to speak with Remi.”

“Ah, I don’t think you’re going to get what you want from her,” Ares said, folding his arms protectively against his chest. “We lost two of the other Bullets last week. They, um, we couldn’t get them through their sweats.”

Regret was tight across Ares’s features and exhaustion tugged at the corners of his eyes. He’d been up all night. Possibly longer.

“I’m sorry, Ares.”