These days, it seemed like the ocean was the only place she could find peace. In the distance, a sprawling metropolis sat by the horizon, its screeching cacophony of sound far away. Out here, there was only tranquillity. Out here, there was only quiet, and not a single one of those horrid machines to be found.
Maphira sighed, counting the fish she’d managed to catch that morning. Five—more than her usual haul. Of course, ever since the Mechanist takeover, it seemed there were fewer fish in the bay. Just barely enough to get by, but she supposed that was all she could ask for.
She’d have to get back to land soon. People would be waiting, without a doubt. Had she ever expected to be the only person who knew the whereabouts of people offering high-quality boat catch installation? No, she’d always expected to be on the police force, busting criminals and unravelling dark plots. Ever since Vai had stabbed her in the back, though, she’d been in hiding. It was her only choice, especially with the entire force committed to the Conclave’s cause.
Maphira still couldn’t believe it. She shook her head and approached the place on the boat where she sat to drive it. She’d never been good with boat terminology, so she wasn’t exactly sure what it was called. With a heaving breath, she prepared to head back to the location she stands to point people in the direction of the marine welding workshop that provides the best installation for snapper racks Melbourne had to offer.
Starting the boat back up, her thoughts returned to that great tragedy in the solar factory. Three years later and still the memories of that betrayal stung fresh. Even Captain Hold had been in on it. They must have known that Maphira would never buy in on the plot, so they used her to advance their plans.
Oh, how far she had fallen.
She had failed. Rylee had disappeared completely, and Maphira knew her only option was to go off the grid.
At least she was still alive.