“Okay,” Kye says. It doesn’t sound okay. “So let’s say we go and talk to the Hyperboreans. What if Lamia is one step ahead of us and they just lie to you? What’s your strategy for that?”
Fiona straightens her back, her eyes narrowing. “We have to try,” she says. “If there’s any way for us to stop an intergalactic war, we need to exhaust our options diplomatically before we resort to violence.”
Kye opens his mouth to argue, but he just waves her off. He looks at me for a split second, a question in his eyes, but he must decide it’s not the time to ask.
I don’t mind. I can speak to him later.
I know he’s still angry–not as angry as before, but he doesn’t seem to want this nearly as much as the rest of us. Whatever his issues with Fiona, I’m glad he’s still backing me up.
I’m glad he’s here.
“And you think talking to the Hyperboreans is going to stop it?” Kye asks.
“Diplomacy might help us avoid unnecessary losses,” I say softly. “Fiona is right.”
I hate having to do this, but it always seems to come down to their disagreement lately—having to choose between Kye and Fiona, no matter how much I love them both. Even my nights are torn between them, as they sometimes will tolerate each other, but frequently refuse to speak.
Kye narrows his eyes, but he ignores me. “Fine, princess,” he says. “If you say so. How do you expect to get there?”
“That’s what we came here to discuss with you all,” Fiona says. “Do you think you could fly an Merati warship?”
CHAPTER TWO
ORION
My place amongst the crew often feels…confused.
Today is no different.
I walk at the rear of the group as we head toward the dock, the rest of us following in the wake of Fiona’s long purple gown. She strides quickly through the halls of the Alamancian capital city, looking every bit the queen with a knife at her hip.
I would go to the ends of the galaxy for her.
But these men…?
I’m not so sure.
Taln limps just ahead of me, leaning heavily on his crutch. His gait has gotten progressively worse in our weeks here, particularly in the aftermath of the attack on the Naiad. I’m confident that he feels much the same way that I do: unsure of his place amongst Fiona’s warriors, his skills perhaps better suited to something outside of combat. I quicken my stride to level with him, glancing at the Skoll out of the corner of my eye.
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do on a warship,” I say under my breath. “You?”
“I imagine I will continue to serve her, whatever the cost,” Taln says. He glances down at his crutch. “After all, sometimes the worst wounds result in the greatest friendships.”
I huff out a breath, shaking my head in the way that humanoids do. I don’t understand the man’s fondness for me, but I’ve found that I’m grateful for it; I didn’t have anyone like this at my side when I worked with the Hunt.
“The others are still warming up to you, Orion,” Taln says as if he’s reading my mind. “They’ll come around.”
“Your powers of forgiveness are impressive,” I say. “I fear the cyborg’s capabilities are far less.”
“I don’t think it’s you that Kye is angry at,” Taln murmurs.
We reach the end of the corridor and the door opens up ahead of us to the same sunlit atrium where we saw so much bloodshed just weeks ago. The stained glass ceiling is slowly being put back together, the face of the goddess Yrsa fragmented but staring down at us. I catch a glimpse of Fiona meeting the goddess’s eyes as she whispers a prayer, passing two fingers over her shoulders in the fashion of the Skoll.
She’s taken to goddess worship quite readily. Perhaps because she is somewhat of a goddess herself, as all Merati queens are.
Then it’s onward to the docking bay, where a new ship awaits us. It’s high time for an upgrade; the Naiad, their rusty, old Merati vessel, was in sore need of repair. Even if the human, Kye, was able to evade unwanted attention for so long, the Naiad was not a warship. For the challenge ahead, we will need something far more advanced, with all the latest stealth technology and guns to match.
Our allies have not disappointed.