I spend a hushed night huddled with the Wasters on the platform of the station Luca calls "North Lam". Guards are posted at either tunnel entrance as well as the stairwell to the surface, men and women standing stiffly with eagle-eyes trained on the gloom.

My shoulders ache with the tension of the last few hours. I run a hand over the back of my neck, attempting to alleviate the tightness in my muscles as I grimace slightly. I am sitting slumped against a wall, trying to ignore the low grumbling in my stomach. All I've had to eat today is that hare I shared with Luca and there won't be anything more until tomorrow. It has been decided that we will spend the night in the tube station and venture out at daybreak. Hopefully Jaron will have shown up by then.

I glance down the length of the platform, catching sight of Luca speaking earnestly with a group of men and women. I can't make out what they're saying but they appear angry, their pointed weapons never far from hand. One of the men is gesturing with his bow towards the stairs while Luca runs a hand nervously through his knotted hair.

I am so intent on watching the scene that at first I don't notice Cade coming to sit with me. His long body folds elegantly as he settles, ever calm and silent.

"They think we should have stayed and fought." I remark, keeping my eyes trained on the argument.

He sighs softly. "Many do."

"But why? You saw the gas for yourself; we didn't stand a chance against it."

"They are saying that there was enough time to get aboveground and attack the airships before they reached us." His response is passive, almost reasonable.

I am about to respond with a retort but something about Cade's presence gives me pause. My brow furrows as I consider the possibility. In the heat of the moment I only considered flight but now I see what our rash reaction has wrought; misplaced families lie scattered across the platform, small children huddled next to their parents, some visibly shivering in the dank air.

Thinking back, I remember the panic I felt at seeing the ominous marking signifying Pic dil Cir on the stolen map. I recall talk of gas and the sight of the cages, row after row of constricting wood and steel. When Luca and I raced across the desert all I could rationalize was finding a way to get every innocent person out of the camp and as far away from the airships as possible. There was never a moment when I contemplated another option.

Maybe we should have stayed. It would have been dangerous, yes but by fleeing we denied the Wasters a chance to defend their home. We left the enemy airships to roam freely, following the course of any number of maps. How many more lives have we placed in danger by running away from battle?

"I didn't even consider staying to fight." I admit softly, whether to myself or Cade I can't be sure.

"Why should you have? What you wanted was to protect us. They might not show it, but we are grateful to you." I glance towards the older man, noticing a twinge of sadness cross his features. "It is Luca that they are angry with."

"Luca's wanted to protect them as well." I point out.

"Luca's heart is in the right place. I don't disagree with his decision." Cade raises his eyes to the gathered refugees. "We are alive and I give nothing but thanks for that."

"So what's the problem?"

"To some, Luca has shown weakness. Wasters believe that there is a time to fight and a time to die."

I bite the inside of my lip, thinking. The Wasters arguing with Luca have stalked away leaving him alone next to the tracks, red-faced with fists clenched.

"But you agreed with him." I don't bother trying to keep the annoyance from my voice. "You told them all to trust him."

"Of course I did. Without Jaron or Noah it falls to Luca to lead us." He glances towards the stooped figure at the other end of the platform. "I have faith in his judgement."

I suddenly miss my father so acutely that my heart physically aches. The sensation takes me by surprise and I am unable to speak, for the moment only capable of breathing evenly as I wait for Cade to continue.

"Sometimes there is no one path to take." He says sagely. "What matters is that Luca chose a direction and lives were saved. I hope that he will be able to see that."

"I do too." I roll my shoulders and lean my head back against the wall.

"Your skills for thievery were certainly useful today."

I crack an eye open. "Thieving is useful every day."

He chuckles softly. "If we're going to have a thief in our midst, it is best you are on our side."

The side of my mouth pulls up at his words and a little more tension releases from my shoulders. At least one person believes that I'm on their side.

There is a commotion near the foot of the stairs. I sit up straight, craning my neck along with the rest of the crowd in an attempt to make out what is going on.

"Jaron is back." Cade says, accepting my hand as I pull him to his feet. I hang back, watching as both Cade and Luca stride quickly over to greet the overdue hunting party.

"Luca." Jaron's relief is audible as the brothers embrace, drawing apart quickly as Jaron takes his younger siblings face in his hands and studies him intently. His brows furrow and Luca colours slightly before pulling away.

Rowan stands a few feet behind Jaron, impassive as always. Though she is partially obscured by the gloom of the staircase I cannot help but be struck by her tall bearing. Her ever-present feathered staff is held casually away from her body, giving her an almost regal impression. I am wondering briefly if she has any kind of royal heritage when I realize that she is looking right at me, eyes glittering. A heat rushes to my neck and I look quickly away, back towards Jaron.

He drops his bow and quiver, keeping his stance wide as he regards the refugees. He has the attention of even the smallest children, sitting upright in their mothers laps and blinking sleepily up at him.

"Brother and sisters, I have failed you. I was not here to lead you during an attack on our home and for that I am sorry." He pauses, letting the words sink in as he locks eyes with several people individually. Already he has successfully enraptured every person present and I find myself hanging on to his words, fascinated.

"These strangers have made a very grave error in crossing us today." He continues. "Wasters will not stand for this insult!"

The shouts of agreement are so forceful that I am nearly knocked off my feet.

"Now is the time for action!" More cheers. "We will find out once and for all who these people are and we will take back from them what is ours. We will march into their home and we will have our revenge!"

A shiver runs down my spine and rather than the familiar trepidation I feel a delightful trill of anticipation. The Wasters' battle cries encompass me, entrapping me in the cause. In the need for justice against the wrongs exacted here.

"Rest well tonight, brothers and sisters. Tomorrow we have work to do." His eyes dart to land squarely on me. I meet his gaze, following his subtle gesture towards the stairs.

I move around the outskirts of the cheering crowd, slipping easily amongst the revellers and joining Jaron, Luca, Rowan and Cade at the stairwell landing. I avoid Rowan's barely-concealed sneer as I sink down onto a step next to her, the four of us facing Jaron who stands on the landing, his face darkened and drawn tightly.

"Tell me what happened." He states simply, looking pointedly at Luca.

I stay quiet as Luca explains us finding the airship in the desert and what we overheard the soldiers discussing, I bite down the urge to insert a comment here and there, sensing that my participation does not play into Luca's favour. For his part Jaron listens intently, patiently.

"So when you realized that the sky machines were coming to the camp, why did you not arrange an attack on them?" He finally asks the inevitable question and I sense Luca stiffening next to me.

He takes his time in answering, speaking carefully, deliberately. "I did not wish to put anyone in danger."

"You did not think of the larger problem you have created, brother." There is a condescending note to Jaron's tone and I find myself clenching my jaw unconsciously. "Not only is the enemy still out there, but our people have lost respect for this family. If we are not strong and united together then the tribe will fall apart. Do you understand?"

The remark stings. I can tell Luca has felt it acutely by the way he flinches, ducking his head and staring angrily at his lap. "Yes." His voice is low.

"Good." Jaron switches his focus abruptly, his dark eyes flicking between myself and his brother. "You. Kay."

I am still too annoyed to give him the courtesy of responding and instead raise my eyebrows, waiting expectantly.

"What are the terms of me going to your City and meeting with your Queen?"

Now he has my full attention. My eyes widen, scarcely believing this is actually happening. "Terms?" I stumble on the word, extracting a derisive scoff from Rowan. "Terms. Right. Yes. Will, I mean, our commander knows the terms better than I." I mentally kick myself, recalling meeting with Will and Meg to discuss this exact situation but being too distracted by the impending airship ride to retain any information.

"And where is this commander?"

Rowan speaks up, evidently tired of my bumbling. "Presumably back at their fallen sky machine, about fifteen kilometers East of here. But, Jaron, you cannot seriously consider going to the City. It could be a trap,"

"It could be." Jaron agrees, his eyes never leaving my face. Another pause. "Except that she helped us. The gas would have provided the perfect opportunity for her to escape but she stayed and unlocked the doors."

I bite my lip, waiting.

"Either you are who you say you are." He addresses me directly for the first time. "Or you are a traitorous liar meant only for the crows and the flames." His low, rumbling voice carries a sincere threat and I gulp heavily despite myself.

"Let's hope I'm the former." I manage to keep my voice strong and disguise my concerns.

He nods slowly. "We leave tomorrow."

At his word we disperse to seek out sleeping arrangements. I find a quiet spot near the wall, purposefully far from Rowan. As I drift into unconsciousness I pray fervently to my neglected gods that they will spare me the nightmares this one night, when I have finally managed to strike a tentative peace with the Wasters.

Perhaps as a consolation prize for what can only be described as an eventful day I am for once granted the mercy of a dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

For the record, awaking on a tube platform surrounded by refugee Wasters is a completely disorienting experience. That, combined with a none-too-gentle kick from the toe of Snake's boot is not my preferred way to start the day.

I follow Snake, trooping past the rest of the still-sleeping bodies and up the stairs. Our small group consists of only myself, Luca, Jaron, half a dozen well-armed Wasters and most disappointingly, Snake and Rowan. I'm surprised that Jaron has opted to bring such a small group but give him credit for not choosing to bring a full-fledged army to the City. Although, judging by the way Rowan grips her staff and the finely-tipped points of the Wasters' spears, they will have no problem holding their own should the situation call for it.

Cade is waiting for us by the entrance to the tube, softly lit by the rising sun. He embraces both Jaron and Luca in turn, whispering something into their ears before clapping them on the back and saying his goodbyes. He exchanges a cursory nod with the rest of the Wasters as they file through the entrance then turns his attention to me, bringing up the rear.

"You aren't coming." I state, realizing that I am going to miss him. He was the first to make me feel welcome in this camp and something about his calm presence brings out the best in both Luca and Jaron. Without him I fear the tensions between the brothers will come to a head.

"I am needed here. It has been many years since Jaron surpassed me as chieftain but I am sure that I remember the gist of it." His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grips my hand with his.

"Thank you." I tell him, wishing I could say more. "For the tea."

"It was nothing." He waves off my thanks before looking at me earnestly. "You came to us seeking peace, Kay. Now you must seek it within yourself."

I nod tightly, a small smile twitching at the side of my mouth as I turn to leave, ducking through the entranceway and shielding my eyes against the red glare of dawn.

Jaron and the others stand silhouetted against the horizon, making last-minute adjustments to their packs and weapons. Luca and Jaron tie their hair back tightly, the identical mannerisms signifying them clearly as brothers. They stand a ways apart and I can't help but wonder at the missing link between them. Noah.

Rowan and Jaron lead the pack, weaving us a path across flattened terrain aimed directly into the sun. As we walk I feel my heartbeat pick up in my chest. It is as though my entire body can sense our increasing proximity to Will and the others.

The landscape changes intermittently from scattered brushland to barren, hard-packed sand. The Wasters keep us on a course that hugs the edges of the dunescape, the hidden alleyways between the sandy mountains always close at hand should an airship happen to fly over.

After a time I notice that Luca has fallen behind the group. I slow my own pace and wait for him to catch up, relaxing into synch with his silent tread. We walk companionably for a spell, eyes trained on the backs of our small group, watching Jaron and Rowan striding confidently at their head.

"Are they together?" I ask, my voice low as I nod towards the couple.

Luca scoffs low in his throat. "No. Jaron would never submit to a partnership and besides, Rowan has promised her heart to another."

"Really?" Somehow I can't picture Rowan with a heart.

"She loves Noah." Something changes in his voice when he speaks his lost brother's name.

"Poor Rowan," I murmur. I don't even want to imagine the kind of pain I would feel if Will were suddenly taken from me in such a way.

"She was with him when he was captured." Luca has slowed his pace even more to give us some distance. "She managed to escape. If she appears distrustful, it is because she has her reasons."

"Rightfully so." I concede. "I am eager to show all of you my home so I can change her opinion of us. She might trust me after we make an alliance."

"An alliance, is it?" He looks down at me. "I thought yours was simply a peacekeeping mission."

I shake my head resolutely. "I meant it when I said that we can help you get your people back. I fully intend to follow through on that promise."

He is silent for a moment, ever-thoughtful. "That is a lofty claim to make. You must be highly-ranked in your City."

I feel myself colour. "Not ranked, precisely. It's complicated."

He glances over at me. "You are a mystery, Kay."

"Speaking of high-ranking, I didn't realize that your hierarchy is a dynasty." He looks at me sideways, confusion etched across his features so I explain. "I mean that Cade was chieftain before Jaron, his son for all intents and purposes. After Jaron, leadership of the camp falls to you and Noah. Not exactly a modest family business, is it?"

"You figured all that out in a very short period of time." Something pulls at the side of his face. "You have been paying close attention."

"There hasn't been much else to do." I say lightly, gesturing at the endless, barren landscape.

"Not every Waster camp falls through families. Ours works well this way, Cade was a wise chief and Jaron is courageous." He pauses briefly. "Noah is patient. When leadership falls from one to the other our camp remains strong."

"And what about you?" I ask.

A light pink creeps up the skin below his beard. "Command was never meant to fall to me."

"Don't let them make you feel bad for the decision you made." I urge. "You can't regret what you did; you saved all of their lives."

He stops abruptly in his tracks. "Do not speak of matters you do not understand, Miner."

My brows shoot up in surprise, "I just wanted you to realize-"

"Realize what, exactly?" His eyes flare bright blue. "What is it you wish me to know this time? The last thing you told me was that we should funnel everyone underground instead of fighting the enemy outright."

I fall back a step, reeling. "Are you seriously blaming me for bringing us through the tunnels? Are you trying to make me feel guilty about that?"

The pink on his neck has worked its way up further. "I had no time to think."

"You had time to think. You had that entire run across the desert to come up with a plan." My confusion has been replaced by anger. "I made the decision to go through the tunnels, Luca, because you wouldn't. You froze. If you want to be a leader then you had best start taking ownership of your actions." I fairly spit the last few words, daring him to come back at me.

A strange look crosses his face, followed immediately by rage. "It was never supposed to fall to me to make these decisions." His jaw is clenched so tightly I expect his teeth to crack. "I am the third brother. I never asked to lead."

"We might not have asked for these roles but regardless of that, people look to us." I push my chin up higher. "Make your decisions and live with them, Luca. Stand by them or learn from them, but don't blame me when your feelings get hurt afterwards."

I push bodily by him, letting my shoulder knock against his as I stride past, walking swiftly to catch up with the group. After a minute I hear Luca's near-silent tread pick up behind me, his pouting evident in the way he shuffles his feet.

I roll my eyes upwards, scanning the dunes and searching for any sign of Phoenix, frowning when I see nothing. To distract myself I try to pick out landmarks and pay attention to the amount of distance we cover, trying to get a sense of how the Wasters become familiar with such vast, open terrain.

Our shadows shorten and I am hazarding a guess of us being within a kilometer of the ship when Rowan alters our path so that we enter the maze of dunes. The Wasters' steps become careful and methodical as a wave of tension settles over our group.

Amongst their steady presence I feel myself a part of the desert, blending in with my surroundings similarly to the way I once walked amongst Courtiers in the marketplace. Something reflects across my vision, startling me. I shield my eyes and look up to see Phoenix dotting the crest of a dune up ahead, the silver balloon announcing its position like a beacon.

If Will or the other soldiers can see us from above they give no indication. Rowan directs us smoothly to the base of the dune and shoulders her staff before beginning her ascent, not bothering to wait while the rest of us follow suit. As we climb it suddenly occurs to me that this could all be some elaborate ruse and that Jaron has no intention of meeting peacefully. It may very well be that I have just joined an expedition to murder my friends. For all the misplaced trust I have placed in other people over the years, this could easily be the most costly.

The sun stretches over us as we clear the crest of the hill, one by one rising to our feet and glancing around. Phoenix appears the same as when I left, the deflated silver balloon draped across cracked wood.

"Where are they?" Jaron asks, looking pointedly at me.

My brow furrows. Is it possible that Will never came back here? I am about to speak when I notice something. When I left this hill, Phoenix was partially buried in the sand. Now she lies still tilted, but with the bow fully revealed. Someone has dug her out.

The ground suddenly shifts around us and there is a flurry of activity as the Wasters reach for their weapons. We stand back-to-back, huddled together as dark figures appear in a circle around our group, sand cascading from their shoulders as they train their weapons on us.

We are surrounded.