The Airship Aurelia (The Aurelian Archives) by Courtney Grace Powers

Raft, a Pan with resources of no mean size who they were paying to organize their purchases. Hayden would rather avoid him. He'd rather avoid most Pans, come to think on it.
    This was the last time they'd be visiting the warehouse. The goods had already been stowed neatly on The Aurelia —cans of broth, dehydrated meat and gruel, a dozen casks of clean water, medical supplies, photon wands with back-up charges, blankets, and enough guns and ammunition to outfit a small army. Reece's wardrobe back at The Owl was mostly empty; he'd had his clothes packed for days now. Nothing was going to delay them once Po finished her tweaks on the Afterquin.
                  Except for maybe a short goodbye, if Hayden was lucky.
                 
                 
                  Despite the nippy weather, Caldonia was crawling with people. Even the muddy back roads the crew took to the warehouse were bogged, both with Easterners—who usually stuck to the nicer end of the city and dressed in suits and high-necked dresses—and the Westerners, their opposites. The only reason the different classes blended in the streets was the looming holidays and the selection of shops Caldonia alone offered. Sweet emporiums, clothing stores, antique book corners, art and automata galleries…
                  Reece led the crew past all of these, maneuvering between ladies with parasols and bulging gift bags and grubby-faced Westerners smoking cigars on corners. He hung a left down an alley dripping with clotheslines, heading towards the lumber houses, where the air around the yard stacked with logs, planks, and crates was dusted with equal amounts of snow and sawdust. The workers in the yard—most of which had dark hair and the telltale white Pantedan skin—waved to Gideon and whistled at Po and Nivy. Po smiled shyly; Nivy merely looked curious.
                  The warehouse itself was a plain brick building with black smokestacks and boarded-up windows. Raft met them at the scrolling door where wares would have once been unloaded from the beds of wagons. He was built like the smokestacks above, tall and as solid a block of cement. His black hair was short like Gideon's, but he wore a straggly goatee braided at his chin and was missing an eye, or so his black patch suggested. It could just be putting on intimidating airs, Hayden supposed.
                  “Get in, then,” Raft said gruffly, jerking his head. “You're lettin' in a draft, and we've a fire goin'.”
                  Hayden stepped up onto the elevated hardwood floor of the warehouse, holding his satchel, and winced. His broken ankle had been out of its straightener for more than a month now; it shouldn't still be bothering him. Sighing, he shifted his weight and looked around.
                  The interior walls of this part of the building had been knocked down so the room sprawled like a king-sized lounge. There were two hearths on opposite walls, one for cooking, one for comfort. The collection of battered armchairs and couches clustered around the latter was occupied by a group of Pans who looked openly hostile until Gideon stepped up after Hayden and nodded to them.
                  “Raft,” a voice whined from the hearth. A pointed-faced Pan stood up, scowling. “You really think it's a good idea to have them all here? What if one'a them blabs? Then what?”
                  “Then you'll be runnin' scared with your tail between your legs, Kayl,” Gideon said evenly, helping Raft slide the door shut with a bang. “Shouldn't matter to you either way.”
                  “Besides,” Raft added. “You think they'd rat on us after payin' us for goods? Be a right waste of money, wouldn't it?” Turning to Reece, he prompted in a quieter voice, “Well?”
                  Reece and Gideon simultaneously reached into their jackets