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plane, but I can tell you where in Auster you can find another one.”
    “I’m listening.”
    “Right at the docks at the outer eastern edge of town is the city junkyard.”
    A junkyard? He could not be serious. Leonidas sighed. “Continue.”
    “It turns out the proprietor has gotten his hands on an old Seabird. He’s hidden it away inside the dome-shaped shack at the waterfront edge of his property.”
    “Do the soldiers patrolling the docks know he’s storing illegal goods?”
    Darren smiled. “I saw no reason to tell them.”
    Leonidas didn’t need to ask why. Selpe soldiers and spies did not get along.
    “It’s their job to keep an eye on the Avans, not police the streets of Auster,” Darren added.
    “And do the city guards know?”
    “I saw even less reason to tell them. Not after they confiscated my electric scooter. It was not that loud, I tell you. There’s no way it broke any city noise level ordinance. Nitpicking ninnies.”
    “So, what kind of Seabird is sitting in this junkyard?” Leonidas asked. Please don’t say the Seabird-4. Please, please—
    “A Seabird-4.”
    Damn. “A series of superb planes, and it had to be the lemon of the line. You know, it was the Seabird-4 that killed the line.”
    Darren shrugged. “The one in the junkyard seemed mostly functional when I saw it.”
    “When was that?”
    “About four months ago.”
    In other words, an eternity in scrapyard parts time. “Someone just shoot me now,” sighed Leonidas.
    “Careful, man. With that bounty on your head, you might just get your wish.”
    “I thought I was just another poster on the SIN board.”
    Darren snorted at the word ‘just’. “Inside the Selpe Intelligence Network, yes. But to the scavengers of the world, you’re worth twenty thousand Crowns. You really haven’t seen the posters? They’re plastered all over the main street.”
    Leonidas had been avoiding the main street. He dropped his face into his hands. “No.”
    “SIN didn’t want them put up. You know how it is. We deal with our own traitors,” Darren said. “But this came directly from the Selpe Advisory Council just last week. They put the bounty on your head.”
    Leonidas tried to pinpoint which person on the council he had managed to piss off, but it was no use. He was pretty sure he’d annoyed all of them. Well, never mind. He’d deal with that problem. Eventually. Or he’d save Marin and the Selpe boys and then not have to. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all that Ariella and Silas had come to get him from Precipice.
    “Ok, I’ll check out the junkyard. But I’m still going to need to borrow a few SIN stickers from you,” he told Darren.
    “I hope you’re not planning on impersonating an agent of the Selpe Intelligence Network.”
    “Darren, I am an agent of the Selpe Intelligence Network.”
    “No, you were an agent. But you aren’t any more,” Darren reminded him. As though he needed the reminder.
    “Well, then it wouldn’t be hard to impersonate one.”
    “I hope you’re not planning on impersonating an agent of the Selpe Intelligence Network,” Darren repeated, this time deadpan.
    “No, I’d just like a few of those snazzy SIN stickers for my bed’s headboard, so I can play spy whenever I have nocturnal visitors.”
    Darren stared at him blankly, then managed to stammer out, “Sometimes, I don’t know whether to take you seriously, Leonidas.”
    Join the club. “Stickers, please.”
    Darren leaned over to reach into his bag. “And then we’re even.”
    As soon as Darren’s back was turned, Leonidas slipped the SIN identification badge out of his pocket. “Sure. If the plane is actually flight-worthy,” he added, making a fist to hide the pilfered badge.
    Leonidas waited for his friend to hand him the stickers, then tucked the badge between the papers as he stuffed the stack into his backpack. He stood and swung a strap over his shoulder.
    “Well, good luck, Leonidas,” Darren said, raising his glass.