A Ride to Remember:

Although the Watchman had stern words to say to Harper, particularly over whether she was really a silver-ranker, he was more concerned with their captives. Harper hadn't killed them, but in the next few hours they might wish otherwise.

The issue was the Strider wouldn't carry all of them. Harper could carry two, but she'd find it difficult to keep up with the pace of the City-Strider.

After a minute of conversation, Arlene pointed out that since she was going back to her house anyway, they could simply part ways here- since from where they now stood, her house was northwest, towards the lake, while the Watchman's comrades had setup south, near the centre of the city. Without Harper and Arlene, the strider could carry at least two of the men.

The Watchman was reluctant to leave a man behind even if he'd been shackled- until Harper suggested emptying the bags the men had been using to loot the shop and storing the medicine inside. In the following two minutes of rapid repacking- they discovered that the bikes, bags and weapons bore the same makers marks and similar serial numbers.

The Watchman wasn't familiar with them, but suggested that it was highly likely that the brigands had stolen the goods from a train carrying military goods or possibly even robbed the store-room of a military factor in another country. Magic bags like these weren't rare, but they weren't exactly common either, due to how expensive they were. Having so many was definitely a red flag.

With the Strider loaded with thoroughly subdued men chained to hooks on the underside of the machine, the Watchman waved goodbye and kicked his vehicle into gear. It was almost creepy how quiet- and deceptively fast- the machine was when they weren't riding it.

Arlene was getting her bearings and trying to figure out the way back to her house, when she heard the sound of an engine turbine revving and turned to find Harper straddling one of the Treadbikes.

"What're you waiting for?" Harper called out cheerily, coasting alongside Arlene. "We're in a hurry right?"

"I'm pretty sure that... Nevermind." Arlene hopped on behind Harper- the wide seat of the bike had enough space for driver and a passenger by design. Arlene slipped her feet into the passenger stirrups and held onto the luggage rack behind her seat at first- but Harper accelerated sharply, causing her to jolt forward and grab wildly around her waist to steady herself.

The bike tore along the streets with a throaty roar and the clash of metal on stone. The treads were dimpled to provide grip, but even so, they were more designed for off-road travel than the urban.

"Slow down- Left here! LEFT!" Arlene yelled, thumping at Harper's knee with one hand while holding on with the other.

Harper for her part, licked her lips and took the corner so late it was almost despicable, sliding around the turn and using one leg to kick off the far wall before the bike could crash into it.

The air around her leg shimmered and when Arlene opened her eyes, they were careening down another street, slaloming like a skier around the occasional group of pedestrians.

There were yells, and shouts, but they were indistinct due to the roar of the wind above and the thrum of the turbine beneath her.

"Left or right at Turnagain lane?"

"Straight on to Cedric's way! Please slow down!"

"Cedric's way, got it!"

"Listen to the rest of iiiiit!"

"Arlene, stop that! I'm concentrating!"

Twice, they caught sight of other bikes in the streets, but Harper deliberately ignored them, gunning the bike further to take rapid detours. With every violent turn, the edge of the treads would kick up sparks as they ground against the cobbles.

After a few minutes of intense driving, the crowds began to thin and then dissipate entirely. There were fewer places for heavy drinkers near the lake and fewer shops to loot, so it was quiet.

Eventually, Harper shook Arlene, who had her eyes shut tightly and her arms wrapped around Harper even tighter.

"Hey. We're here."

Arlene cracked open one eye, and realised that the world had gone quiet. Apart from the gentle hum of the bike idling underneath them, things were peaceful and still.

"Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?"

"I'm self taught! Pops called me a natural!"

"A natural? Natural disaster more like." Arlene quietly grumbled.

"Could I have a thank you? It's only twenty past seven now. If you pick up your rock, we can be on a tether carriage out of the city at seven thirty..... And you can let go now if you want."

Arlene hurriedly unlatched her arms away from Harper and staggered off the bike, stretching the kinks out of her legs.

"Tether carriage, but the station-"

"The watchmen here have enough problems right now. I think that you think that your father is still alive and kicking because if those guys wanted this rock badly, they wouldn't be stupid enough to kill him before they'd confirmed that they'd found you. So you figured that you'd leave the city with the rock and try and do a trade- am I right?"

Arlene's jaw dropped a little.

"You.... you're very different, when you're not on the job."

"Hey I might be younger than you, but you're not more experienced than me in everything." She gave a playful wink.

"Right. Well, I'm just up the street... the lamps are out. Guess the lamplighter's couldn't make it out here."

Arlene reached into her bag and pulled out a lighter and a hurricane lantern.

It only took her a moment to find where she'd tossed the old rock near her front doorstep.

As she lent down, something whistled past her ear and thunked into the door frame.

"Arlene!" Harper yelled, vaulting off the bike and dragging it between Arlene and the road.

Arlene crouched next to her, and raised her lantern.

A knife was gleaming in the woodwork, something seemed to be smeared onto the blade.

From the darkness, they emerged. Six men in suits, top-hats and each with a pair of white gloves. However, these men had knives, compact pistols and brass-capped canes.

Harper swore.

"I thought there were way more than four at the train-station this morning."

Arlene tried to peek over the edge of the bike, only to get pulled down by Harper as one man took aim.

"Girl. Step out, and give us what we want, and you won't be harmed."

Both Harper and Arlene rolled their eyes at that. The owner of the gravelly voice did not sound like someone who would show either mercy or restraint.

"Fine. Time to earn your wage Merc. Get them."

Harper peeked again- and saw a seventh man push his way to the front. His muscles bulged, threatening to split the seams, and he wore a malicious grin as he undid his necktie and handed it off to the man next to him.

"I'm an Craftsman- so if you resist, girls, don't blame me if you die!"