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gripped Josmere’s hands tighter and wished she could close her eyes against the light. The world spun and hurled her forward, her queasy stomach trying to break away. She crossed a thousand galaxies, round and round, colliding into stars, being absorbed by black holes, losing herself in the thick, inky darkness.

She flew for an eternity, until the circles lessened and she realized she had come to the centre of the worlds she had been shown. It was a star, old and worn, its light and energies cold and almost spent. As if seeing her, it sighed, and in its exhaled breath it unleashed a terrible darkness that ripped through the world around her. Even in the vast vacuum of space, the screams still echoed.

The star was old and broken and it now climbed the horizon before her, its light too weak to warm her skin. Layela smiled as she felt a familiar presence by her side.

Yoma, she thought. Her sister smiled back at her, her eyes not the deep greens of Josmere’s, but the light green of daylight striking the ocean. Layela felt safe and filled with confidence.

The two walked in unison. She looked down and saw that they were on a bridge, a high sturdy bridge, and before her spread a temple, its old stones gleaming as if bleached by sunlight. The symbol above the temple caught her eyes, an intricate flower hugging a sun. Her awakened mind tugged at her.

You know this.

i

Dunkat was not fooled by the redheaded girl. Layela dwelt somewhere on this ship, or it held other secrets, and he was willing to bet he was near them. The girl’s posture was becoming tenser with each door he opened and, although he made a good show of exploring each shadow, he was really watching her.

She still held that bottle in her hands, had a gun strapped to her waist, and he had caught sight of a few knives littered about her body. Enough to show him she was dangerous and to suggest that she intended to deal with him before he found her ship’s secrets. He fought the urge to smile. He was growing impatient with the girl’s lack of speed.

The second she tried something, he would take her out, arrest her, clamp the ship down, and question the crew at his leisure until he found Layela. All he needed was for her to move first, so that he could justify it later to Noro. With the destruction of that flower shop still hanging over his head, he feared pushing too far. Noro still watched him closely, and an unjustified act would provoke a very unpleasant response.

He reached out toward the next door and the girl stiffened visibly beside him. She was about to strike, he knew. The door was locked.

“Open it,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes. She relaxed immediately. He wondered if she had seen in his eyes that he understood her intentions. He hoped not.

“I don’t have the combination,” she said lightly, leaning on the wall as though chatting with an old friend. Dunkat suddenly understood. The girl was getting ready to attack, releasing the tension from her muscles. Good.

He lowered his gaze and analyzed the panel, the keys outlined by a symbol of some sort, no doubt one of the ship.

He examined it more closely. It was a flower, and it was wrapping something...Dunkat felt his heart freeze. He knew this symbol. It was one that had been seared into his memory. He remembered it more clearly than his own mother’s face, even though he had last seen them at the same time.

The girl still hadn’t moved, and Dunkat’s patience was gone. He didn’t need her to act anymore. He had much more precious proof to act upon.

He stood to face the girl. Her eyes slit as she looked up at him, her face framed by red hair. “I’ve seen enough.” He smiled and walked away, past the inspection team that still lingered behind him, down the ladder and off the ship.

He waited outside for two minutes, until the girl had closed the bay doors and the inspector puffed beside him.

“Lock her down,” he said to the man. The inspector’s eyes grew wide, but he obeyed without question.

Great clamps rose seconds later, creaking with disuse. They clanged against the obsidian of the ship. He wished he could see the whole ship from where he stood. Not that it mattered now.

He would see her, piece by piece, as they tore her apart and revealed her deepest secrets.

i

“Blood and bones, we’re locked down!” Ardin exclaimed seconds after the crash sounded across the Destiny.

“Any luck, Jaru?” Cailan asked.

“Nothing under Yoma, nothing under Delamores.” Destiny’s forty-something network technologist chugged coffee from a large cup between answers. “No Delamores on any ship in dock — well, except here, and we’re not advertising.”

“Layela might know of another name we can search under,” Zortan offered from the side. Ardin turned to look at him, studying the strange man.

Cailan considered for a moment, then hit a sequence on the terminal by his chair. “Avienne, bring Ms. Delamores up here, if you please.”

“Oh sure, no problem.” The reply came from the ladder; Avienne must have been only a few rungs from the deck. Ardin turned back to his station and hid a smile as he heard his sister’s string of swear words descend with her again.

“Travan, can you break us out of this little snare?”

The ship’s engineer turned his head, an insulted look on his features. “The day I can’t break a Solarian trap is the day I retire.”

“Whether or not you can break us out,” Cailan replied, looking sternly at his oldest friend, “I’d never let you retire.”

The corners of Travan’s eyes crinkled, the only sign that the engineer was laughing. Ardin felt some relief. If they were still joking, then they still felt they had some measure of control. “On to serious matters.” The engineer’s hoarse voice betrayed none of his amusement. “Jaru, can you get me access to

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