Neither of them have really thought this through. Astrid wouldn’t have any idea what an in-gin-eer is or does, let alone on a boat, besides that thing what Research is always working on? or some of the Smith caste dwarves? The Avvar might build the occasional simple wooden lift for transporting materials up and down the mountain, horse-powered, but it’s not the same and it’s not industrial enough to merit the term. Their people are craftsmen, builders, woodworkers.

As they walk along side-by-side, Astrid shoots her friend a look. (She’s good at reading body language; she’s always watching and measuring her prey in the woods, and right now Abella looks like one of those deer ready to bolt.) She loops an arm through her elbow, a steadying touch to try to smooth out some of that stiff awkwardness, the anxiety laced in every rigid muscle.

“Relax,” she says, voice low and for the other woman’s ears alone. “We got this.”