“That evil fucking witch!” Grimmington pushed over a fruit basket once we were back on the airship. Oranges spilled out onto the deck.

“We still have the money from the tiger teeth, we’ll be fine,” Mike said, “now let’s get Leah’s sister.”

“Coud ye drop us aff bak et Yellopurt?” Connor asked. He stood by his four remaining men. The guy who got his leg chewed off now had a peg in its place.

“I’m sorry, what?” Grimmington looked at him, “you have to uphold your end of the bargain.”

“Dat wus asseumin we’d get peyed mate.”

Grimmington grabbed him by his collar: “Listen here you little shit, you’ve got nothing, no ship, no money, and a sad excuse for able bodied men. Either you come with us, or you get off this ship right now.”

“Fein..” Connor said. He knew Grimmington wasn’t messing around.

Our travels continued, the sun was long gone by now. Connor and Grimmington didn’t speak again for the rest of the trip. Ri and bone meal had come with us. The queen hadn’t acknowledged them in the ballroom, and would’ve shown no mercy if we left them there. We followed a train track past Unionsville. It led through endless farmland. I spotted a lit up house every now and then, but dark fields of crops accompanied us for most of the trip.

“Almost all the food in the valley comes from here, with the exception of rice. And bananas,” Mike told me, “by the way, what ‘trouble’ did you stir up in Unionsville? Your top is all torn.”

“The queen doesn’t approve of girls, and she absolutely hates workers having guns, so I was her worst nightmare,” I said.

“Oh.. Well I’m glad you’re alive,” Mike replied.

“Did you do anything interesting while I was gone?”

“I got pretty mad at Grimmington when you disappeared, but after some arguing we picked Connor and his crew up from their sinking ship, and went straight to Unionsville. The city was quite boring, so we headed straight to the palace and gave the queen the news.”

Grimmington grabbed our shoulders, making my heart skip a beat.

“These guys have no faith in you, Leah, I can’t imagine how this would’ve ended if I hadn’t come along for the journey,” He chuckled, “anyways, I have a plan, gather around!”

The others, including Connor and his men as well as Ri and bone meal joined us at the bow of the ship. Grimmington leaned against the railing at the very front, facing us.

“If we fly over Banana island, chances are we’ll get shot down, so I suggest we split up. All of you get a boat, then try to sneak onto the island,” Grimmington said, “once it’s over I pick you all up in the airship, and we fly home.”

“And where would we get a boat?” I asked.

“Right..” he glanced behind him, then stepped aside, “..here.”

The land below the airship was littered with little lights; houses. They increased in density further in front of us. Street lights from all directions joined at a single bright point by the shore. The moon’s luminous reflection in the water behind the beacon of light was obscured by tall structures. Their heights were the greatest closest to the beacon. Harald’s Tower was nothing in comparison to these skyscrapers, I had never seen buildings that tall before. Maybe on the postcard of New York I got from uncle, but never in person.

“This is the metropolis of the Lost Valley; Point Civ,” Grimmington proudly announced, “some call it the pinnacle of human progress, I call it an authoritarian shithole. Hell, you aren’t even allowed to carry guns down there.”

Grimmington walked back to the control panel and prepared for landing. We descended far enough that the ship almost touched the rooftops. I saw crowded sidewalks and cobbled streets with train coaches on rails. The horse carriages shifted lanes left and right, busy city.

Grimmington anchored the ship at an “aerohub,” as he called it. A terminal on top of one of the taller towers. There were at least a dozen airships other than ours docked at the terminal, glass bridges extended from the tower to each one of them. We stored our weapons in a trunk that Bò strapped to his back. Had to transport them to the boat somehow. The Schofield was hidden well enough under my dress that I didn’t bother putting it in the trunk. None of the others seemed to notice, so I was in the clear.

We walked over the bridge and through the glass arches into the terminal.

“Anything to declare?” a lady asked. She looked like she worked there, wearing a skirt that would not have been allowed inside a church, and a blue tuxedo jacket.

“Nope,” Grimmington told the lady.

“What about the guns?” I whispered after we had passed her.

“The declaration process is a pain, I don’t think they need to know every little detail of our lives. Ever heard of privacy?” he said, “it’s not like we’re going to use them anyways.”

An elevator operator took us to ground level. The ride was silent except for the buzzing electric engine powering the elevator. We exited the aerohub building and zigzagged our way between carriages, trolleys, and people across the street to “Ristorante il Piacere” on the other side. A doorman let us in. Fancy establishment, they had a whole wall stacked with wine bottles.

“Dodici persone,” Grimmington told the female waitress. She brought us to one of the bigger tables next to the wall of wine, then left us alone.

Grimmington sat at the end of the table, while I grabbed a chair between Mike and Emily on the side closest to the wall. The menu printed on our coasters clearly wasn’t in English, although I could make out some words. We each had two forks, two knives, one blunt and one sharp, and a spoon too. Father took me to a restaurant in town on my last birthday. To celebrate my womanhood, he said. This one was by far more expensive looking though.

“Pronto?” the waitress came back after some time had passed.

“Ready to order?” Grimmington asked us.

“Yeah,” Mike answered for us all.

They each made their orders one by one, then it was my turn.

“Uhh, what do you recommend?” I asked Grimmington, clueless on what to order.

“Pasta alla Gricia per la ragazzina, per favore,” he told the waitress.

“E bere?” she replied.

“Vino rosso per tutti.” Grimmington pulled one of the bottles out of the wall. To his surprise, it was empty.

“Mi dispiace, l'alcol è vietato.”

Grimmington slapped the table: “And I thought this city couldn’t get any worse, first guns, and now alcohol? Guys, I’m afraid we’re drinking water tonight.”

Fine by me. The waitress left again, she had not taken down our order on a paper and must’ve instead memorized it all in her head.

“Coud ye elaboreet an de plan?” Connor asked.

“I’m making this up as we go along,” Grimmington said, “but we should probably attack at night, less risk of being spotted that way. If I’m not mistaken, his manor is situated on the northern part of the island.”

“Where do the mercenaries hang around?” Mike wondered.

“There’s a town, so we should probably keep away from that. The waters are also filled with pirate ships, paid off by Joe himself. They disrupt other marine cargo traffic, virtually giving him a monopoly over the waters in the area.”

Speaking of water, the waitress filled our glasses.

“What type of boat are we getting?” I asked.

“Something small and quiet, avoid conflict at all costs, rowing is preferable,” Grimmington said, “it’d be best if we took your sister without them even knowing we were there.”

“Ya kno a plaece wher we can ge’ one, ye?” Connor said.

“We’ll check by the shore as soon as we’re done here.”

“Steeling, ey?”

“I think of it more as borrowing. It’s not like we’re going to hold onto it forever.”

The waitress set down the plate of what Grimmington had ordered for me; Pasta covered in a cheesy sauce with bacon strips. Weren’t the people next to me in the restaurant with father eating something similar? I couldn’t quite remember.

Emily got her food next, a baked potato with some butter on top which slowly melted away. She didn’t wait for the others to get their food before digging in, so neither did I. She grabbed the outermost fork with her left hand, and the blunt knife with her right. I never ate that way, it made no sense to use one’s non-dominant hand for the cutlery that does the most work. I took hold of the outermost fork with my right hand and set it in the pasta, then spun until the pasta strands wrapped around the fork. I put it in my mouth and chewed, some pasta strands still hung loose from my mouth. I slurped them up. Grimmington looked at me while I was eating.

“You are allowed to use the knife, you know,” he said.

“God gave us teeth for a reason. I don’t touch knives unless it’s with the intent to kill,” I replied.

“Or cut vegetables,” Grimmington added.

He received his black platter of rare steak and fried potatoes. The others got their food too.

“It’s about time we get to know the people you’ve brought along, Leah, don’t you think?” Grimmington hinted towards Ri and bone meal.

Ri was chewing on a chicken leg and looked up, all eyes were on him. Grimmington waited for a response, but Ri just smiled and nodded his head.

“He can’t speak English,” bone meal said, “My name is Fu.”

“We’re happy to have you here, what skills do you have that can contribute to the mission?” Grimmington asked.

Fu thought for a while.

“I can carry buckets very fast,” he said.

“...And your friend?”

Fu asked Ri something in the language I couldn’t understand. Ri swallowed the chicken and replied to Fu, who nodded.

“Ri can carry boxes very fast,” Fu said.

I gave Grimmington a look of pity, he sighed.

“Good for body shields if anything,” Grimmington mumbled.

“They’re people too, you know,” Emily rolled her eyes. Fu sat too far away to hear any of it.

The bell above the door into the restaurant rang. Three well dressed men in black suits with red ties and pitch black hats came into the restaurant. Two of them were carrying guitar cases. Chatter at the other tables died down. Maybe we were getting live entertainment, I thought. The man without a guitar case said something to one of the waitresses. She looked frightened, nodded, and hurried through the doors into the kitchen. The man brought a small chrome case out of one of his suit pockets, then opened it to reveal three cigars. He took one out, put it in his mouth, and shoved the case back in his pocket. The guitarist on his right quickly lit a match and held it under the man’s cigar, lighting it for him. He puffed on it until the waitress came back, she had a man in a dark blue suit with her. He was almost as well dressed as the live entertainers. They spoke for a while. The waitresses in the restaurant had all stopped their work to listen in on the conversation. The man in dark blue shook his head and waved his arms around, looking like he was trying to persuade the live entertainers. The man with the cigar threw the cigar at the man in dark blue.

“Attenzione everyone!” the man that now had two cigars left said, “I am Giuseppe Rossi. Paolo says business has been bad, and he cannot afford to pay for protection. But to me, it looks like business is booming! This man thinks I’m stoopid!”

The others at my table were now also paying attention.

“Let this be a reminder to ALL that one does not try to outsmart us, because we WILL find out.”

The man in dark blue dropped down pleading. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“This is not good..” Grimmington said under his breath.

“Ragazzi,” Giuseppe ordered.

The guitarists opened their guitar cases. There were no guitars.

“GET DOWN!” Grimmington shouted. He flipped our table with the help of Bò and Mike. As I ducked down behind the table, the bullets began to fly. People screamed in fear. Connor and his men were on the other side of the table. They tossed themselves over as quickly as they could. Only Connor and the peg legged man made it over into cover before the wall of wine bottles shattered.