The air up here was thin, freezing, and full of bullets.
Julian gripped the steel cable with both hands—his human hand bleeding from the friction, his crystal hand fusing slightly to the metal for a lock-tight grip. Below him, the ground was a blur of glass and dust. Above him, the red hull of the Rusty Pelican roared like a dying dragon.
"Don't look down!" Lyra screamed, clinging to the cable just above him.
"I'm not looking down!" Julian yelled back, squeezed his eyes shut as a line of blue tracer fire from the Imperial fleet zipped past his ear, sizzling like angry hornets.
The cable jerked violently.
"Heave! Heave, you lazy grease-rats!" A voice shrieked from the deck above.
The winch groaned, and they were hauled upward at breakneck speed. They cleared the railing of the ship and collapsed onto the deck in a tangle of limbs and rope.
Julian gasped for air, staring up at the chaotic rigging of the airship. It wasn't the pristine black iron of the Empire. It was a mess of brass patches, canvas sails, and exposed pipes that hissed steam menacingly.
"Clear the deck!" The green-haired woman—the one who had fired the hook—jumped over them. She wore welding goggles and leather overalls covered in oil stains. "Incoming flak!"
BOOM.
An Aether-shell exploded off the port bow, sending shrapnel tearing through the canvas railing. The ship lurched violently to the right.
"Skid! Get to the engine room! Fix the compression valve!" A man shouted from the helm.
He was tall, wearing a long coat made from stitched-together flags of conquered territories. He had a cybernetic eye that glowed a menacing red and a beard braided with copper wire.
Captain Balthazar "Blitz" Kray.
"And you two!" Blitz pointed a flintlock pistol at Julian and Lyra without looking away from the wheel. "Don't die! Dead passengers don't pay!"
"We need to get out of range!" Julian shouted, scrambling to his feet. He looked back. The Sovereign's Gaze—the massive Imperial dreadnought—was turning its broadside cannons toward them. It looked like a mountain floating in the sky.
"Oh, thanks for the tip, genius!" Skid yelled, kicking open a hatch. "I thought we'd stay for tea!"
The Rusty Pelican's engine sputtered. It sounded like a majestic cough.
"She's losing pressure!" Blitz roared, wrestling with the ship's wheel. "The Titan's wake messed up the intake manifold!"
Julian looked at the engine housing in the center of the deck. It was an old, rotary-style Aether combustion engine. It was struggling to breathe the thin air.
It needs a kick.
Julian ran toward the engine.
"Hey! Get away from that!" a pirate with a hook for a hand shouted.
"I can boost it!" Julian yelled. He didn't ask for permission. He slammed his crystal hand onto the main intake pipe.
He didn't need to visualize the mechanics this time. He just felt the engine's desperation. It was hungry. It was choking.
Breathe, Julian commanded.
He poured a surge of his own blue Resonance into the machine. Not a trickle—a flood.
The engine didn't just restart. It screamed.
Blue fire erupted from the exhaust pipes. The propellers spun up so fast they became invisible blurs. The ship surged forward with enough G-force to knock the entire crew off their feet.
"Hold onto your lunches!" Blitz laughed maniacally, spinning the wheel.
The Rusty Pelican shot upward, straight into a dense bank of thunderclouds, leaving the Imperial fleet and their sluggish cannons far below.
Ten Minutes Later.
The ship leveled out inside the cloud layer. It was calm here, a grey world of mist and muffled engine thrum.
Julian sat on a crate of ammunition, nursing his hand. It was smoking slightly. The Black-Iron ring was freezing cold against his skin, working overtime to dampen the residual energy.
Lyra was standing by the railing, her pistol drawn, watching the crew.
The crew of the Pelican—about a dozen ragtag mercenaries, mutants, and deserters—had formed a circle around them.
Captain Blitz pushed through the crowd. He holstered his flintlock and looked at Julian with his good eye. He grinned, revealing a gold tooth.
"Well," Blitz said, clapping his hands. "That was a hell of a jump. And a hell of an engine tune-up. You owe me a new intake valve, kid. You melted the old one."
"We saved your ship," Lyra said coldly.
"Correction," Blitz pointed a finger at her. "I saved your lives. You just made the getaway faster."
He walked up to Julian, leaning in close. He sniffed.
"Ozone. Old magic. And..." He looked at the crystal hand. "Expensive hardware."
Blitz straightened up and addressed his crew.
"Boys! Look what we fished out of the waste! It's the Walking Bounty!"
The crew cheered, brandishing their wrenches and knives.
Julian stood up slowly. "You know who I am?"
"Kid, your face is on every holographic poster from Sector 1 to the Dregs," Blitz laughed. " 'Julian Vane. Terrorist. Warlock. Enemy of the State.' Reward: Ten Million Suns. Alive."
Lyra stepped in front of Julian, raising her gun. "Touch him, and I blow a hole in your fuel tank."
The crew laughed. Skid, the green-haired mechanic, wiped grease from her face and smirked. "Honey, this flying bucket is all fuel tank. You shoot us, we all go boom."
Blitz waved a hand. "Easy, easy. Put the toys away."
He looked at Julian with a shrewd, calculating expression.
"I'm a pirate, Mr. Vane. I like money. But I also like breathing. And right now, the Empire is burning the sky to find you. If I turn you in, Elias Thorne won't pay me. He'll vaporize my ship to tie up loose ends."
Julian narrowed his eyes. "So what do you want?"
"I saw what you did to the Titan," Blitz said, his voice dropping low. "You woke up a mountain. And I saw what you did to my engine. You're not just a terrorist. You're a Universal Key."
Blitz walked over to the railing and looked out at the clouds.
"There are places in this world that are locked tight, Julian. Imperial vaults. Pre-war bunkers. The Emperor's private wine cellar. Places full of treasure that no drill can breach."
He turned back, his grin predatory.
"I don't want the reward. I want a partner. You help us crack a few uncrackable safes... and I'll drop you off wherever you want. Deal?"
Julian looked at Lyra. She gave a subtle shake of her head. Don't trust him.
But Julian looked at the ship. It was fast. It was off the grid. And they needed to cross a continent to find the other six Titans.
"I need to go to the Northern Ice Shelf," Julian lied smoothly. "That's where the Resistance is hiding."
Blitz raised an eyebrow. "The Ice? Chilly. But doable."
"Take us there," Julian said, extending his human hand. "And I'll open whatever doors you find on the way."
Blitz looked at the hand, then grabbed it firmly.
"Welcome aboard the Rusty Pelican, partner," Blitz grinned. "Try not to blow us up."
As the Captain walked away barking orders, Skid walked past Julian. She leaned in, whispering in his ear.
"He's lying, by the way," she said, popping a piece of gum. "He's going to sell you the moment we hit a neutral port. Just thought you should know."
She winked and walked off toward the engine room.
Julian looked at Lyra.
"Out of the fire," Lyra muttered, holstering her gun.
"And into the frying pan," Julian finished.