Cass dashed across the plaza, the cold Mist pressing against her exposed face and knuckles. She dragged in air through the gas mask as her boots clapped against the cobblestone. Halfway, she glanced back. The Turned had spotted her and was now making its way across the square.

She sprinted for the stairs. Up she went until she reached the portico, then sagged against one of the pillars. Did breathing hard do anything to the mask? She forgot to ask Bert. Speaking of . . .

She raised her head and looked around. The thick Mist made it hard to see the buildings across the way. Where was he? He said there hadn’t been any Turned in this area in years. What had changed?

The creature was halfway across the square, his left leg trailing behind. His face had already started decomposing, leaving the skin clinging to the skull and exposing his nostrils. His eyes were brown with a blue-white haze, and the one hand he held out was more bone than skin.

What do I do next? Cass surveyed the area around her, then moved toward the doors. The one on the right opened when she pressed down on the handle. She glanced in. A wide wooden staircase stood ten feet away from the entrance. On either side were more doors and a long, dark hallway to the left. At the top of the landing was a window that let in dim light.

Good. More stairs.

Cass scrambled up, holding onto the banister with one hand. At the top were hallways, to the right and to the left, each lined with doors. She looked around. She needed a weapon to use if the Turned was able to climb the stairs. Maybe there was a piece of wood or furniture.

She darted into the first room on the left. The room was filled with desks, which had strange metal contraptions on the top. Tiny little letters were across the front of each metal box. The light from the row of windows across the room brightened the area enough for her to see. Near the corner, she found the wall decaying, with moisture stains along the wallpaper and a wooden board jutting out. Perfect.

Cass grabbed one end of the board, careful of the exposed nails, and pulled. The board came away with a loud creak. She bent it forward until it cracked and split. A few more pulls and twists and she held the board in hand. It wasn’t much, but she could at least hit with it, and if the Turned made its way up, she could use this to shove it back down.

The makeshift weapon brought a measure of confidence back as she headed back out to the staircase. Maybe she would be lucky and the Turned wouldn’t be able to go up the stairs.

Cass rubbed a sweaty palm against her trousers as she waited. The Mist passed along the window behind her, sending gloom and shadows across the lobby below.

Then she heard it, the soft scrapping of a boot against the pavement.

She gripped the board with both hands. Where was Bert? What if her plan didn’t work? Should she just run? But if Bert was around, she didn’t want to go deeper into the building.

A dark figure filled the doorway below. Cass held the board in front of her as a chill swept down her back.

It entered the foyer. The Turned paused inside and lifted its head as if it was sniffing the air. Could they smell? Just what exactly could the spores do with a human husk?

The Turned headed for the stairs.

Cass tightened her grip on the board. She would go for the head—

There was a loud pop, followed by a burst of flame. Within seconds, the Turned burned in a hot blaze of red and orange, then fell to the floor in a smoldering, smoking heap.

What the . . . Bert?

As if summoned, Bert poked his head in. “Cass?”

Cass didn’t know whether to greet him in relief or chuck the board at him. “Where were you?” she exploded, her hands shaking, the board gripped between frozen fingers.

“I found a piece of furniture the captain might be interested in, so I was figuring out how to retrieve it.”

A piece of furniture? She continued to shake as she placed her other hand on the banister and slowly made her way down the stairs. The fingers on the dead body below twitched, then went rigid. The air smelled like burnt hair and meat, and Cass gagged as she stepped around the Turned and joined Bert. She couldn’t decide whether to yell at him again or just get out of there. Her desire to leave won out. She marched for the door. Bert was close behind.

“Look, Cass, I’m sorry. There shouldn’t have been a Turned in the area. There was no evidence of recent movement, and like I said, there hasn’t been a sighting here in years.” The two of them made their way down the outside steps. “Good thinking about the stairs, by the way. It slowed the Turned down, and I was able to figure out where you were.”

Cass wanted to yell at him again, but she clamped her mouth shut. But the feelings from the last five minutes—she never wanted to feel those again.

“Bert, I want to learn how to shoot that gun you used on the Turned.”

Bert nodded as they made their way across the plaza toward a narrow street between the bookstore and its neighbor.

“I agree. That was next on my list, but this incident has made it even more of a priority. Maybe I should have taught you before you went on your first dive, but like I said”—he shook his head—“I thought we would be safe here.”

“Maybe we’re not safe anywhere,” Cass said. Safe. It seemed a foreign word and feeling. Was anywhere truly safe?

He glanced at her. “I understand you grew up on the streets of Belhold. I was a pickpocket in the island city of Decadenn. I’ve found the Daedalus to be the safest place both in the skies and on land. Maybe you will, too.”

Cass looked up. The Daedalus was a dark blot in a misty, dark sky. So far, she had found refuge on the diving ship. But was it safe? And could it be . . . home?

Only time would tell.

Outside the town was a short hill with a handful of naked trees along its slope. Cass followed Bert up to the top. The Turned had shaken her, filling with her the need to get away from this place. At the top of the hill, Bert brought out a small cone-shaped fabric kite and held it up. The wind moved the cone up and over his shoulder. “Excellent. There is a good updraft today. That, combined with the thermal near the bottom of the hill, will help us get the lift we need to ascend back up to the Daedalus. Are you ready?”

Cass scanned the area. The hill was fairly open, as long as she stayed far away from the trees. Up above, she could barely see the Daedalus through the Mist. Could she really get enough lift to ascend back up through the Mist and to the ship? What happened when that wasn’t possible?

Her recent experience with the Turned and her first time in the Mist made her realize just how dangerous the life of a diver could be. So many things could go wrong. Was this what she really wanted to be doing?

“I’ll have you go first,” Bert said, breaking through her thoughts.

“Yes, of course,” Cass said as she pulled at the cord on the side of her pack. Like before, wings made of thin wooden poles and canvas spread out behind her. The very action brought her a sense of calmness. She was like a bird, spreading her wings.

“When you’re ready, go ahead and start your run down the hill. Remember to let the wind and air catch you. Don’t fight it, let it take you. Near the bottom of the hill, you’ll feel the thermal. Once you’re in the air, circle around it to gain altitude. Got it?”

Cass nodded as she pulled her goggles down, her heart already beating at the thought of flying again. “Yes.”

“All right, go.”

Cass started her run. There was no uncertainty in her gait, no hesitation. The glider, her body, and the wind were one. Halfway down, the straps pulled on her arms and torso, then she lifted off the ground. Down near where Bert had indicated the thermal was located, Cass felt the glider catch the invisible air current and lift up. She leaned slightly to the left and began to circle the funnel, letting the air lift her higher and higher.

Below, the town square grew smaller, and the Mist became more opaque. After a couple of minutes, she broke through into clear, crisp, cold air. Such a difference, as stark as life and death. A hawk appeared, its wings spread, gliding just above the Mist. Then it suddenly made a sharp turn and dipped down. Just another mystery: the Mist didn’t seem to affect anything but humans.

Cass continued to glide, catching the updrafts, rising higher and higher as she soared toward the Daedalus. Twenty minutes later, she flew toward the deck, tilted the glider slightly up to stall, then dropped onto the ship.

“A perfect landing.” Jeremiah clapped and came toward her. She spotted Captain Gresley standing near the bottom of the stairs, a smile of approval on his face. He gave her a nod before turning and heading to the upper deck.

“Thanks.” Cass pulled the other cord and stowed away the glider, then lifted the goggles from her face before tugging off the gas mask. She breathed in the fresh air. Much better than the metallic, stale air of the mask. And no need to worry about the Mist or spores.

“How was it?”

Cass paused, not sure if she should tell about the Turned. Before she could answer, Bert was already hovering above the deck, ready to land. Cass and Jeremiah moved to the side and watched as he came down.

“It was . . . informative.”

“Informative?” Jeremiah scoffed. “What kind of word is that? Did you have fun? Did you see anything?”

“We had a run-in with a Turned,” Bert said as he stowed away his glider and approached the two. “But it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle, right Cass?”

She could tell Bert was subtly asking if she was okay.

She flashed both men a smile. “As Bert said, it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle.” If she was going to be a diver, she had to accept the risks. Today was only the beginning.

Jeremiah’s eyes went wide. “What? There hasn’t been a Turned in this area in years.”

“I know.” Bert’s face was sober. “It concerns me a little. I’m going to let Captain Gresley know about our little jaunt down there. Do you need anything, Cass?”

“Nope. I know where to put the glider equipment, and I assume the masks are stored nearby.”

“Yes, I’ll show you,” Jeremiah said and turned toward the doorway that led down into the bowels of the ship.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Bert said quietly.

“I am, as long as you teach me to use that gun of yours. I don’t want to be up against a Turned again with just a stick in my hand.”

Bert chuckled. “You did look a bit scary at the top of the stairs with that board.”

He had no idea how close she came to throwing that board at him.

“Are you coming?” Jeremiah yelled as one of the other sailors crossed the deck with a large coil of rope over his shoulder. The sailor smiled at Cass as he headed for the top deck.

“I’m coming,” Cass answered. For the first time, she felt like part of the crew. It felt good, even if it came with more sobering moments like this encounter with the Turned. It was worth it in the end. It was almost like being part of a family.

Almost.