“The Solar Fox is the fastest ship on Solam, having beaten all its competition handily. It was designed by genius shipwright Nilan Älys, her crowning achievement.”

-Liam Erkhart, Concordian shipwright, 188 U.E.

Stephan lingered in the back of the cockpit, arms crossed. Clouds and small islands drifted by the ship as they burned west. Yin lay draped across the co-pilot’s sea, helping Kazzul plot the course as the ball of light she had picked up bobbed back and forth like a compass.

It was still dark.

“You owe me so much ice cream,” Yin said with a giggle.

“That I do,” Stephan said. “Kazzul, do you think this is going to lead us anywhere?”

“I do, but you’re not going to like it. Based on our trajectory, there aren't many islands we could land on. So, assuming the Ancestors didn’t toss the treasure into the sea…”

“What?”

“We’re headed for Dead Echo.”

“Codes,” Stephan muttered. He still had nightmares of their encounter with the lakata. “Are you sure?”

“Sure as I can be.”

Stephan swore under his breath. “That’s just great. Have we got anyone tailing us?”

“Not yet,” Kazzul said, “but they won’t be far behind. Maybe this auxiliary engine will get some use after all.” He shrugged.”I suggest you get some rest while you can. We’ll hit Dead Echo in a few hours.”

Stephan figured it was best to take him up on that advice. His shoulder still smarted, even after Prixis’s work and two med-patches to speed up the healing process.

I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day, he thought as he ducked out of the cockpit.

*****

Ario roused his soldiers from their beds, all of them. He commanded them to arm themselves and follow, some with their shirts untucked and laces done up sloppily. He marched them down to the docks, Sergeant Parker walking next to him.

“Sir, what happened?” she asked, hair mussed about her face. “I was told that some of our people were found dead.”

“Wenezian acted sooner than I expected,” Ario said. “She has left us with some catching up to do.”

Reaching the docks, Ario found that they had another problem. The three ships they had left on the platforms had been affixed to the dock with magnet clamps, long metal arms that kept the ships firmly in place.

Attempting to take off in that state would prove futile.

Rand and his men had arrived before them, his ship similarly grounded. The deckhands labored at the clamps, sparks flying as they meant to sever them with heat cutters. The first came loose, then the second, and a cheer went up among Rand’s crew.

Ario approached the captain with some reluctance, afraid to catch any of his stench. “This appears to be the governor’s work,” he observed. “If you give over that equipment you’ve been using, I will soon have my ships unstuck.”

“See, that’s the thing, commander,” Rand said with a smile that glinted gold even in the dark. “I know of like your ships where they are.” With a whistle, he caught his crew’s attention and motioned towards the ocean.

The deckhands dumped the heavy heat cutters over the sides of the platform, the machinery falling into the water. Enchantments fizzed with red anima, then went dark.

Ario regarded the captain with a long, dull look. His skull was hardly worth collecting, no doubt malformed and pitted in various places, judging by his scarred scalp, but Ario had no doubt it would still find a place of high honor in his collection. Rand was quickly becoming one of the most despised men he had ever met.

“Do what you must,” Ario said. His soldiers turned their weapons on the pirates, and the pirates, but he waved them away. “But expect no mercy from me, when the time comes.”

Rand clapped Ario on the shoulder. “I’ve gotta tell you, commander, I haven’t got much mercy in me myself.” With that, he turned and limped up the landing ramp of his large ship, followed by his crew.

Ario turned, gnashing his teeth, and ordered his soldiers to spread out across the dock and find another means of freeing their ships.

This filthy place needs to burn, he thought. Every man, woman, and child. Every kin. Every creature. I will ensure that not one building is left standing once I am through.

That was his solemn promise to the city of Tumba.

*****

“You didn’t need to come with us, Auntie,” Taira said, blowing at a large mug of coffee. “We can take care of ourselves.

“I need to be here,” Vormor said. Most windows on the main and crew deck had been covered to accommodate her sensitivity to sunlight. “This is the final step. The most important moment. I wouldn’t miss it. Especially since it’ll be my last time seeing you.”

Taira frowned. “What does that mean?”

Vormor blinked and shook her head. “I… Nothing. I misspoke.”

“You won’t die.” Taira tried to sound sure. “None of us will.”

“Of course.” Vormor gave a lop-sided smile. “You girls are strong. I know you will keep us safe.”

Taira wished she could live up to that kind of praise. But she knew she wasn’t half as strong as her sister, and never would be.

“What did you see in us?” Taira asked. “When we were young.”

Vormor was quiet for a moment, tracing circles on the tabletop with three hands. “I suppose I saw a little of yourselves in me. Call it a motherly instinct. I couldn’t leave you to fend for yourselves.”

“I see. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you… What will you do with your share of the treasure?”

Vormor scoffed. “Treasure? I have no interest in baubles or money. All I care about is family.”

Taira smiled into her mug. “That’s very nice.”

Vormor got a faraway look in her yellow eyes, then. Her face fell, and she quickly excused herself. Taira had rarely seen her aunt struck by such melancholy, but knew better than to pry. Vormor was quick to comfort others, but never spoke long on her own feelings.

I suppose it is a trying time for all of us, Taira thought, returning to her coffee. And only getting harder.