Here, the grass had grown tall in the late summer warmth and it hissed against their legs as they ran. Ahead, they could see shadowy figures darting into the ribbon of pine trees that led to the work camp, all heading for the Luminous Wake. Compared to the roar of the town, the gentle quiet beyond the trees was unsettling. It was just another normal night up here.

“Lift’s busted,” Folly said as they climbed to the entrance. “Stairs aren’t much better, but passable.”

“Thank you, Folly.” Caledonia smothered a wince at the sharp twinge in her ankle.

Oran moved ahead of her down the stairs, offering his hand whenever stones obscured the way. After running several miles on a twisted ankle, this was somehow worse, and every step sent fresh shivers of pain up Caledonia’s leg.

Finally, they spilled into the hidden harbor, eyes landing on the shape of the Luminous Wake, sun pips glowing pale blue against the cavern’s black walls. The sounds of her crew preparing the ship ready to sail echoed softly over the water. Here, tucked away from the flames and the gunfire, it was almost peaceful. The walls bore no trace of the ruin they’d just left, the air no hint of smoke. But there was a quiet anger in the scattered voices of the crew.

Oran stayed by Caledonia’s side, and together they boarded the small tender and paddled out to the Luminous Wake. The second she was aboard, a familiar voice called out, “Captain on deck!”

Pisces. Relief stole her breath so suddenly, she nearly gasped recovering it.

All eyes turned to her. Their faces were dusted in faint blue light and their eyes carried the same anger she’d heard in their voices. She looked from one to the next, naming them in her head, composing a list of those who had made it. She spotted Tin standing near the bridge, one side of her face covered in soot, a small notebook clutched in her hands.

“Do you have a report for me?” Caledonia asked. As she drew closer to Tin, she saw that the smear she’d taken for ash from afar was a rich, glistening red. “Tin, are you hurt?” Caledonia raised a hand to the young woman’s cheek, tentatively searching for a wound and finding none.

“It’s not my blood,” Tin said, her voice so soft it barely landed.

She didn’t provide any additional information and Caledonia didn’t ask. Now was not the time to feel the full brunt of their losses.

“Are you with me?” Caledonia asked, voice hard. In another handful of minutes, they’d be underway. No matter who was on board and who wasn’t. There was no telling what awaited them outside of this sheltered cove, and Caledonia needed everyone sharp.

Tin offered only a tight nod, turning her eyes to her notebook. “We’re missing a dozen, including Amina.”