“Are you Milvax?” Clara asked from the front door.

“The one and only,” he said, pointing to the shop window. “Says so in shimmering gold right out front.”

She rushed in, mostly ignoring him as she pulled her rucksack off her shoulder.

“What brings a lovely young lady such as yourself into my Shop of Wonders?”

Clara caught the way he was looking her up and down. In most other circumstances, she’d put him in a healing house and let a fleshsmith figure out how to put him back together. But she needed help, and Clifton insisted Milvax was the only one who could do it.

“I heard you can fix anything.”

“It’s good to know my reputation still carries some weight in the Royal City,” he said.

Clara plopped her rucksack onto the counter and began opening the top flap. A black cat jumped up beside it.

“Ah, there you are, Soot. Are you as excited as I am to see what the pretty young thing has brought us?”

Clara pulled the sides of her bag down around the object inside, giving Milvax a better look.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He quickly covered it up and checked the window. “Do you want every Copper Constable in the city knocking down my door?”

“No one knows I have it,” Clara assured him.

“I have to know, dear. Where did you get it?”

“Can you fix it?”

“I can fix anything,” he insisted. “Now, where’d it come from?”

“I… acquired it,” she said, nervously shifting her eyes.

“Darling, Revolution-era iron whale navigation units don’t just land in someone’s lap,” he said, losing patience. “For the last time. How’d it find its way into your hands?”

“It belongs to my captain, Morgana.”

“Your captain?”

“We traffic in rare items—”

“You mean contraband.”

“Rare items,” she insisted, but when he turned his head and looked fed up, she corrected herself. “We’re sky raiders, ok?”

“Oh no. No. No. No,” Milvax said, closing the flap on the bag, pushing it away from him.  “I appreciate the business, but no. Absolutely not.”

“Listen,” Clara begged. “During the uprising, we fought alongside the Royal Guard. Our ship went down at the Battle of Brass Beach.”

“You were at Brass Beach?”

“Most of the crew didn’t make it. I swam to one of the Royal mercy vessels. Morgana ended up on shore and got captured.”

“I see.” He glanced at the rucksack, suddenly sensing opportunity. “And the navigation unit is her only way off the island?”

“There’s a decommissioned iron whale sitting in a grotto,” she said. “All it needs is this.”

“That’s quite a predicament,” Milvax said, petting the cat’s head. “What do you think, Soot? Would five hundred thousand crowns get it done?”

“You’re joking. Two hundred.”

“Four hundred. Not a crown less.” His eyes dropped to her breasts, then slowly made their way up to her lips. “And you’d have to convince me that the risk would be worth taking.”

“Fuck you.” Clara grabbed her rucksack and made her way to the door. She reached for the brass handle, but stopped. Morgana saved her life more times than she could count, and Clara knew she just couldn’t leave her imprisoned on the island.

“Three hundred thousand. It’s all I have,” she said from the front of the shop. “And I’ll suck your dick now. When it’s fixed, and I know it works, you can fuck me.”

“That, my dear lady, sounds like a deal.”

Clara locked the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Wonderful, sweetie, now come behind the counter,” he said, waving her over. “I want to look out the window at the passersby while you make your down payment.”

Clara dropped her rucksack beside the counter and stepped closer. Milvax reached for her face, but she blocked his hand and shoved it to the side.

“No,” she said firmly.

“I thought we might show a little affection.”

“I’m sucking your dick. Nothing more.”

She went to her knees and reached for his belt. The buckle was covered in intricate gears that turned beneath her fingers before the clasp finally opened.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he asked.

“I haven’t seen it yet.”

“I meant the buckle.”

Clara pulled his trousers open and lowered herself in front of him. Milvax was too excited to wait, and pulled his own underpants down, springing his already stiff cock free.

“It’s a good thing you meant the buckle.”

“Now, now, dear. No need for unpleasantries.” He smiled down at her. “Be a darling and let me feel your lips on my prick.”

She took it in her hand, although she only needed a few fingers. She thought about Morgana, trapped on Brass Beach. She remembered the moments after their airship crashed into the ocean, when Morgana pointed her toward the last mercy vessel and then went back to save the others.

Clara closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

Milvax inhaled sharply. “Oh my. That is nice indeed.”

He placed one of his hands on the top of her head. Clara stopped sucking and peered up at him. The look alone was enough.

He removed his hand with a quick jolt. “Sorry, darling.”

She slid her lips up and down the length of his shaft, which wasn’t much. With all of him in her mouth, she swirled her tongue, pressing it against the head and lapping at the underside of his cock.

“Oh dear, that is very good. More of that, please.”

He barely lasted three minutes. She pulled her mouth away and stroked him with her thumb and two fingers.

“Come on,” she said. “Time to finish.”

That was all it took. Milvax convulsed, and a single shot of cum came spurting out, hitting Clara in the chest. She let go of him after that, and watched as his cock kept twitching as the last of his load dribbled out onto the floor.

When Clara stood up, Milvax was still gripping the counter with both hands. She pulled a pocket square from his waistcoat, wiped herself clean, then let it fall to the floor, landing on the small puddle Milvax created.

“A runner will have the crowns here this afternoon,” she said. “I’ll see you in three days.”

“It’ll take—” Milvax paused, still breathing hard. “It’ll take more than—”

“Three days,” she said. “The equinox tide is our only chance to get the iron whale over the rocks outside the grotto. We miss that, and the whole escape is shot.”

Clara stepped outside before he could argue any more. When she left him, his trousers were still around his ankles, and Soot was on the counter staring at him.

Morgana walked along the beach, looking for anything the tide might have uncovered since her last scavenger hunt a week before. A year after the uprising, the beach was still littered with bits of broken machinery and other debris from the battle. Most of it was junk, but some of it had potential. She’d already found a few cogs, a couple of springs and a length of copper tubing that wasn’t too badly corroded.

Scraps of metal had become a kind of currency among the prisoners. It seemed like everyone was trying to build something behind the guards’ backs, usually little contraptions to make life there easier. Morgana admired their creativity, but thought they were thinking too small. From the day she arrived, she’d been looking for a way off the island.

The beach used to be a paradise. Now it had become a graveyard for the Royal airships and other war machines brought down during the uprising. The island itself was an open-air prison for the surviving crews who had operated them.

The Royals negotiated the release of their own people when the peace treaty was signed. Morgana and the other privateers weren’t so lucky. The Kingdom needed their ships during the uprising, but once the war was over, they were reclassified as pirates and left behind.

Something caught her eye in the water. She kicked at the sand around it, then bent down and pulled a small brass fitting out of the sea. She turned it over, carefully looking at both sides.

“Not much, but someone will want it.”

She tossed it into her sack with all the other parts she’d collected that morning and made her way back to the inspection gate.

“Hold up,” the guard called out from the post. “What was your business outside of the village?” he asked.

Morgana sighed and rolled her eyes. “My weekly memorial walk along the beach to remind me of our folly. It’s part of my assigned re-education program.” She recited it like a script she’d delivered dozens of times before.

“What’s in the bag?” the guard asked.

“Nothing.”

“Is that so?”

“You know what, Clifton? I think you should take her inside,” one of the other guards said, snickering. “Find out if she’s hiding anything.”

“Sounds good,” he said, smiling. “You can have the next one.”

The second guard grinned and tipped his cap.

“You, inside,” Clifton ordered.

Clifton closed the door behind them and slid the bolt into place.

Morgana dropped the sack onto the table. “You enjoyed that a little too much.”

“Wyatt’s gotta believe that I’m as corrupt as he is!”

“You are, just not the way he thinks.”

Clifton started to give her a sideways look, then realized she had a point. “Listen, I got the message to Clara. She found the navigation system. I told her to take it to Milvax.”

“That creep?”

“He’s probably the only one who can fix it,” Clifton said, “and definitely the only one who won’t turn her in for even asking.”

“And you’re sure you’ll be able to smuggle it onto the island?”

“About as sure as you are the iron whale won’t leak and sink when we’re a thousand feet under the waves.”

“So fifty-fifty then,” she said with a laugh.

“Shh! You’re not supposed to be laughing,” Clifton said. “We’re supposed to be… you know.”

“Mmm. About that.” Morgana grabbed the front of Clifton’s jacket and planted her lips against his.

They stumbled backward into the table and slid with it until it hit the wall with a loud thud.

“Go easy on her,” Wyatt yelled from outside. “No bruises. Don’t go ruinin’ things for the rest of us.”

Clifton grabbed Morgana by the waist. “You really want to do this?”

“The best way to make him believe that you fucked me is to fuck me.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

Clifton kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth as she raised herself onto the table. He reached down and tugged at her prison-issued shorts until they fell to the floor.

“No silk panties?”

“I keep requesting them, but the quartermaster says they’re not part of the prison uniform.”

“Tragic,” he said, as he licked up the side of her neck until he could nibble on her ear.

Clifton pushed his thumb against a brass disk on her chest. Tiny gears turned, releasing the clasps that held her top in place. The metallic bodice opened down the middle, slipped from her shoulders and landed heavily on the table behind her. “My god, you have the best tits.”

“Is that why you love me?”

“No, but it doesn’t hurt.”

With that, Clifton buried his face between her breasts, kissing and grabbing at them. His mouth and fingers were in a competition to see which could touch more of her tits first.

Morgana arched her back, pushing her chest forward, and placed a hand on the back of his neck.

“I could let you do this all day,” she said. “But you’re supposed to be on duty. You can’t be gone for too long.”

“Right.” Clifton lifted his head, still staring at her breasts. He took Morgana by the hand, helped her off the table and turned her around. “I haven’t seen your ass in days.”

Morgana grabbed both sides of the table and bent over until her cheek rested against its surface. “I’d say be gentle, but I think I need something more today.”

Behind her, Clifton already had his pants down around his ankles and brought his hand across her backside with a playful slap.

“Your wish is my command.”

He lined himself up and slowly pushed his hard cock into her. Morgana let out a long, drawn-out moan as he filled her pussy.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she said, bringing her fist down against the table.

Clifton had her by the waist and started rocking his hips back and forth, moving in and out, getting used to the feeling of being inside of her. “What do you think it will be like when we’re finally able to do it in a bed?”

“Less dangerous,” she panted. “Maybe better?”

“That sounds like a complaint, Prisoner Morgana.” He gave her ass another teasing slap.

“I’m sorry, Officer. I accept my punishment.”

Clifton held her more tightly and picked up the pace. Soon he was pistoning in and out of her, faster and harder. Each time he buried himself in her, the force shoved her forward. He placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her in place while the other cupped her breast.

Wyatt suddenly appeared in the window in front of them, almost coming face-to-face with Morgana.

“You’re doing her, buddy!” he said with a stupid grin, giving Clifton a thumbs-up.

“I… swear… on everything… holy,” Morgana said between Clifton’s thrusts. “I’m going to… make him swallow… his tongue… before we get… off… this island.”

Clifton tried not to laugh and covered it up with a grunt.

Before walking away, Wyatt tapped his knuckles against the window. “Five mins is all yous got left. Shift’s almost over.”

“No chance of him doubting us now,” Clifton said, grabbing her hips and pulling her into him.

“Five minutes,” she said. “Don’t leave me like this.”

He took that as a challenge and gave her everything he had left in him. Morgana squeezed the edges of the table and held on for dear life. They were on a clock now.

Clifton reached around and slipped his hand between her legs.

“Oh, fuck.” Morgana’s legs buckled when he found her clit.

He kept his fingers on her, rubbing in a circular motion, while he drove into her from behind. Morgana’s legs started to shake, and she lowered her head against the table.

“Fuck!” she shouted. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Her fist struck the table with each word. “I’m coming!”

Clifton pulled out and stroked himself a few times. He aimed at her ass, then changed his mind, stepped to the side and shot his load onto the table. Some of it landed next to Morgana’s face.

He leaned over her until his chest was up against her back, burying his face against her shoulder as he held her to the table. They stayed like that for a few moments, catching their breaths.

“Where’s your partner?” someone outside asked.

“Oh, he’s inside doing one of them searches,” Wyatt answered, speaking louder than normal so that he could be heard inside the cabin.

“Fuck,” the couple said at the same time.

Clifton quickly pulled away and scrambled to pull his pants back up. Morgana pushed herself upright, her legs still a little wobbly as she reached for the metallic bodice lying on the table.

They dressed in record time as they went over the last details of their plan.

“And you’re sure all the iron whale needs is the navigation unit?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s how they decommissioned them. Tore them out and left everything else intact.” Clifton fastened his belt and looked over at her.

“So as long as you can get it on the island in time for the equinox tide, we’re good.”

“You still think you can captain that thing?”

“I can fly an airship. How different can a submersible be?”

Clifton had no idea how to respond to that. Luckily, they didn’t have time.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, we definitely look like we just fucked.”

Clifton kissed her forehead, then opened the door and shoved her outside.

“Next time I catch you smuggling scrap, you’ll spend a week in solitary!” he shouted.

Morgana turned and spat at his boots.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Looks like you already done that for him.” Wyatt slapped his leg and burst out laughing.

Morgana stared at him for a moment, imagining the look he’d have on his face when she removed his tongue and stuffed it down his throat.

The thought of it alone put a bounce in her step as she made her way into the prisoner’s village.

It had been three days since Clara visited Milvax’s Shop of Wonders. The crown notes had already been delivered to him, and she fulfilled the first part of their deal before leaving the shop that day. Now it was time to pick up the navigation unit and complete the deal.

“Clara! So good to see you, my darling. Please come in.”

“Is it working?” she asked as she approached his counter.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “But we’re going to need some… discretion… for this.” Milvax reached behind him and pulled on a long lever.

Clara heard the sound of gears turning and steam hissing through pipes.

“It just takes a moment,” he said.

A few seconds later, the front door locked and copper shutters blocked the window.

“There we go. Not just locked with a blocked view, but soundproof too.” The look he gave Clara made her stomach turn, but she reminded herself this was for Morgana.

“Did you get it working?”

“Of course, my lovely. I told you I can fix anything.”

Milvax made his way over to a safe built into the wall. He took a key from around his neck and opened the heavy iron door. Inside, Clara could see the navigation unit and the lockbox of crown notes she’d given him as part of the payment. He removed the unit and brought it over to the counter.

“Here,” he said. “Good as new.”

“Let’s see it light up.”

“As you wish.”

Milvax connected a thick cable to the unit and turned a brass valve. Gears clicked inside, and cogs came to life, catching one after another. Fluorescent green liquid suddenly filled four glass tubes on each side, and the needle inside the dial spun wildly before settling on North.

“Told you,” Milvax said. “It works.”

Clara stared at it, not really sure what she should be looking for. On the airship, her job was done with a sword and pistol. She left these sorts of things for other people to figure out.

“Seems fine,” she said, trying to sound like she was sure.

“Gooood,” Milvax said with a smirk. “Now, we just have that small matter of finalizing the payment.”

“Do you have a room or do you just want to bend me over the counter?” Clara asked bluntly.

“In due time, but before we continue, I’d like to address that… attitude you’re showing.”

“Attitude?”

“Yes. Now, don’t get me wrong. The blow job was perfectly… adequate. But it lacked… umm… enthusiasm.”

Clara clenched her jaw.

“When it comes to the fucking,” he said. “I’d like to see a little more… energy. Put some feeling into it. No going through the motions. Beg for it. Give me something memorable.”

“That’s not part of the deal.”

“It is now. That, and fifty thousand more crowns.”

Clara gave herself a moment to calm down. It wasn’t working.

“I took your wrinkly little dick in my mouth, and you have the fucking nerve to call it adequate?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said. “Six out of ten. But I’m giving you this opportunity to make up for it.”

“Go to hell.”

“Well,” he said, moving his hand closer to the navigation device. “I could always keep it.”

In the blink of an eye, a spring-loaded dagger popped out from Clara’s sleeve. She spun the blade around and drove it down, piercing the cuff of Milvax’s coat, pinning it to the counter.

Milvax screamed. His eyes went back and forth between Clara and the dagger holding his arm in place.

“You’ve ruined my exquisite coat!”

“Not just your coat. Your leg too.”

He looked at her in horror. By the time his eyes met hers, Clara had a flintlock in her hand.

“No… no…” he said. “Please.”

Clara aimed at the centre of his thigh, thought for a second, then angled the pistol slightly to the side and pulled the trigger.

“You shot me!” Milvax yelled as he dropped to his knees, his arm still pinned to the counter. “Have you lost your mind?!”

“I’m not the one who tried to fuck over a sky raider.”

Clara walked to the safe and took the box of crown notes.

“You could have kept this,” she said, holding up the lockbox. “I was even going to fuck you. But you had to be an asshole.”

“Please,” he begged. “Don’t kill me.” Milvax was shaking.

“I’m not going to kill you. You asked for something memorable. I gave you something memorable. Our deal is done.”

Clara packed up the navigation unit as Milvax shivered and sobbed. When she yanked the dagger free, he quickly pulled his arm against his chest before reaching down to clutch his wounded leg.

“It’s just a graze, but I’d have someone look at it,” she said, finally sounding calm. “Open the door.”

He looked behind him and pushed the lever up.

Clara stopped just short of the door.

“Milvax?”

“Yes?” he replied nervously.

“Next time you make a deal with a pirate, don’t think you can renegotiate.”

As she stood there, Soot brushed up against her legs, purring loudly.

“And I’m taking the cat,” she said. “He deserves a better owner.”

Clara met Clifton the next morning at the supply pier an hour before sunrise. She took cover inside an isolated freight shed with Soot tucked under her arm and the navigation unit already packed into a small wooden crate with “Heat Exchanger” stamped on the side.

“What’s with the cat?” he asked.

“New member of the crew.”

Clara pointed to the crate. “It’s packed with straw, but keep it upright. There’s some glowing green goop in the valves. I don’t think we want that leaking.”

“Milvax got it working?”

“Better than his leg does.”

Clifton decided not to ask.

The two of them put the crate on a pallet marked as a shipment of boiler parts. They waited for a couple of hours until they watched one of the dock cranes load it onto a prison supply cutter.

When it arrived on the island later that afternoon, Clifton carried it through the village and all the way down to the grotto where the decommissioned iron whale sat waiting.

Later that night, Morgana cracked open her cabin door and peeked outside. The village was quiet. Most of the prisoners were asleep. The few guards she could see were warming their hands around an iron brazier. As far as anyone knew, there wasn’t a way off the island, so escape wasn’t something they worried too much about.

She threw her sack over her shoulder and started to cross the open courtyard.

“Going somewhere?”

Morgana stopped mid-step. She recognized the voice instantly.

Wyatt stepped out from between two cabins. He looked pleased with himself, which was never a good sign.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said.

“So you decided to go a walkin’ with a sack?”

“Laundry.”

“Under the stars?”

“Like I said, couldn’t sleep.”

He reached for the bag, but Morgana pulled it away.

“Careful,” she said. “You wouldn’t want to damage my delicates.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he said. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you in them.”

“Is that so?” Morgana let the sack settle against her hip and gave him another look.

Wyatt glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby. “You’ve got some of the nicest titties I ever did see.”

His eyes dropped to her chest, and he licked his lips without bothering to hide it.

Morgana imagined the sight of him, holding his throat, his eyes bulged out, trying to explain he was choking, but finding it difficult without a tongue.

“You should have said something sooner,” she told him, running a finger up the side of his arm.

Wyatt nodded toward the nearest cabin. “How ‘bout we step inside?”

She looked at the cabin, pretending to consider it. “You heard how loud I am when I’m getting fucked. We need some place more private.”

“My cabin then.”

Morgana patted her sack. “I was taking this laundry down to the grotto for a wash. It’s more secluded there.” She smiled and reached for his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Can’t hardly wait. I’ve been thinking about making you squeal like a piggy ever since I saw you with Clifton.”

Out of habit, Morgana flexed her arm, expecting a dagger to spring into her hand. Nothing happened. Even after a year as a prisoner, she still couldn’t get used to it not being there when she needed it.

They walked away from the village following a worn path toward a rocky outcrop that rose above the harbour. Wyatt stayed close behind her, talking the entire time, mostly saying things Morgana was going to make him regret.

“You want me to stick it in your pussy or ass first?”

“You can surprise me when we get there.”

Wyatt moved closer behind her. “I hope you don’t get all bashful like Lin does when she’s sucking cock.”

The mention of him taking advantage of another woman made her grind her teeth. She forced the smile back onto her face. “Do I strike you as bashful?”

They walked a little further, putting more distance between themselves and the village, getting closer to the grotto.

“I hope you got a towel in there. There’s gonna be a lot of cum to wipe up.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” she said.

He sealed his fate with each comment he made.

They were well beyond the lights of the village now. All around them, waves crashed against the rocks below the path. Whatever happened up here wouldn’t be heard by anyone but the two of them.

As they approached the top of the cliff, Wyatt reached out and pinched her ass.

“You can’t wait for the grotto, can you?”

“No ma’am,” he said, rubbing his hand over her backside.

“Me neither,” she said, looking up into the sky. “How about I warm you up with a moonlight blow job?”

“I like the sound of that,” Wyatt said, already tugging at his belt.

“Allow me,” Morgana insisted, lowering herself to her knees in front of him.

“This is gonna be good,” he said.

“Even better for me,” she promised.

He was already hard when his pants came down. Morgana reached out and gave him a few strokes.

“I didn’t know you was left-handed.”

“I’m not,” she said. “But my right hand is stronger.”

Wyatt looked confused for a second. Then Morgana shot her right hand up and grabbed him by the balls, squeezing as hard as she could. She jumped to her feet and shoved him backward, catching him by the collar as he teetered on the edge of the cliff. His arms flailed wildly as he tried to keep his balance.

“What in hell are you doing?” he yelled in a panic.

“Say another word, and I’ll rip your balls off.” She tightened her grip and gave them a yank.

“What in hell are you doing?” he said again, quieter this time.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m getting off the island tonight. And I’m giving you a new job.”

“What…” he said, wincing from the pain. “What new job?”

“From now on, you protect every woman on this island, understand?”

“I can’t—”

“You will. Because if I hear just one more story about a guard using a prisoner to get his rocks off...” She twisted her hand, forcing Wyatt to hop from one foot to the other. “I’m coming back for you and every other guard involved. By the time I’m done, I’ll have enough testicles for a necklace. Got it?”

“Okay, okay,” he said, nervously looking over his shoulder, realizing how high up they were. “I’ll put a stop to the messin’ around.”

“I mean it.”

“I know!”

“Can you swim?”

“Yeah?”

“Good.” And with that, she released him. Wyatt dropped out of sight, his feet kicking out in all directions with his pants dangling from one of his legs. A second later, Morgana heard a splash from the water below.

It wouldn’t take him long to get back to the village. Morgana picked up her sack and hurried down the path.

When she got to the grotto, Clifton was waiting for her, leaning halfway out of the iron whale’s top hatch. Most of it was underwater, but she could see the rounded top of the hull breaking the surface.

“Is it working?” Morgana asked.

“The navigation unit lit up as soon as I put it in place.” Clifton held out a hand and helped her onto the vessel. “The needles are spinning, and the pressure is holding. It only took three tries to get the steam engines going.”

“That’s better than four, I guess.”

Morgana handed him her bag before climbing through the hatch. “We might have a problem.”

Clifton followed her down and pulled the hatch closed above them. “What kind of problem?”

“Wyatt caught me leaving.”

“And?”

“I put him in charge of looking out for the women.”

Clifton stared at her. “That’s a problem?”

“He needed some convincing.”

A muffled clang travelled through the submersible as Clifton sealed the hatch. “You cut his tongue out?”

“No dagger,” she said, almost sounding disappointed. “I let him go.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

“We were standing on top of a cliff.”

“That sounds like you. Did he live?”

“Yeah, but he’ll be back at the village by now. We don’t have much time.”

Clifton took the side seat and buckled himself in. The navigation unit glowed from the centre of the helm console. Glass tubes filled with fluorescent liquid and small brass gears turned beneath the casing while the compass pointed north. The entire sub rattled as drive gears began to turn.

Morgana hopped into the captain’s chair and put both hands on the wheel.

“How are the controls? Close enough to an airship?” Clifton asked.

“Some of them.” She shrugged with a smile.

“I trust you.” Clifton leaned over and kissed her. “Let’s do this!”

Two weeks later, Clara was waiting outside a small port town with Soot curled up at her feet. She flipped open her timepiece. Morgana wouldn’t be late. She’d either be on time, or buried in the depths of the ocean.

Soot leapt up onto a wooden barrel and began meowing toward the road. He noticed them first.

Clara looked over and saw Morgana and Clifton coming toward her. She ran to meet them and threw her arms around Morgana.

“I knew you’d make it,” she said, trying to sound certain.

“No, you didn’t.”

“I was reasonably confident.”

Clara released Morgana and took a look at Clifton. “You look terrible.”

“Nine days inside an iron whale,” he said. “It never even occurred to me that you could get seasick under the sea, or that it could last this long.”

Soot rubbed himself against Morgana’s boots. She bent down and scratched behind his ears.

“Is that Milvax’s cat?”

“Mine now. He became part of the deal.”

“Fair enough.”

“What are we going to do with the iron whale?” Clara asked.

“It’s gone.”

“You sold it?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “Follow me.” Morgana nodded to a trail that led inland, away from the port. They followed it up over a hill, then down into a small valley that opened into a wide field.

“There she is,” Morgana said, brimming with pride.

It was smaller than the airship they lost at Brass Beach. The balloon envelope was full of patches, and the metal plating looked a little haphazard, but the deck was large enough for a proper crew.

“You traded the sub for an airship?”

“Turns out iron whales with working navigation units are worth a fortune on the black market.”

“That navigation unit nearly cost me my dignity.”

“Then our ship has a new name. Clara’s Dignity.”

Clara stared at her. “You are not calling it that.”

“I am. In honour of my new first mate,” she said, placing her hand on Clara’s shoulder.

Clara covered Morgana’s hand with her own. “Thank you, Captain.”

Morgana gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go.

Clifton couldn’t help but notice the patched balloon. “Is it safe?”

“It passed an inspection.”

“Whose?”

“The guy I got it from.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Clifton stood staring at the ship, watching steam rise up from one of the engine housings. “Does this mean I’m a sky raider?”

Morgana turned to him. “You abandoned your post, helped a prisoner escape, and you’re AWOL from the revolutionary army.”

“Right,” he said. “I suppose I’m a pirate now.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Morgana smiled and led her new crew up the boarding ramp.