Empress of a Thousand Skies(33)

“Ten thousand is a rip-off and you know it.”

“We were negotiating. He would’ve gone lower if—”

“If what, Aly? If you stepped in and tickled his balls? I had it in there until you started talking. Maybe if you weren’t always trying to get people to like you—”

“Oh, so it’s like that?” Anger knifed its way up Aly’s spine. “So I was the one who screwed it up back there?”

“Calm down. I didn’t mean it like that.” Vin raised his palms in surrender. That was his game. Vin never meant it like that. “You’re supposed to be lying low, remember? You’re one flimsy particle mask and some murky-ass goggles away from being recognized as the universe’s most wanted murderer.”

But deep down, he wondered if it was possible the robodroids had swarmed because he’d found the royal escape pod. What if they’d arrived because someone heard Aly broadcasting his distress signal, and not because Vin had sent out a call? But he’d used his cube to send out the signal, and cube communications were supposed to be secure. Foolproof. Unhackable. And if that was the case, then Vin might be right—what if Seotra and his lackeys really could drop in and pay an unexpected visit to anyone’s cube? The question was too messed up to contemplate.

All he knew was that he had somehow become the fall guy. The UniForce had even raised the price on his head—claiming not only that he’d murdered the Princess but that he’d also kidnapped his beloved costar, Vincent Limam, for the probable purposes of extortion and negotiation.

Which was funny, because Aly would for sure negotiate to kick Vin to the other side of the universe right about now.

“Of all people, you should care about what’s at stake,” Vin said, sounding like one of the old missionaries in the church tents, all pucker-faced, like the taste of their words was sour. “Don’t you want to know why they picked you for the universe’s toilet paper?”

Aly’s mouth flooded with a bitter taste; wind whipped sand onto his tongue and between his teeth. Because he already knew. Of course he knew, deep down, even if he didn’t want to believe it.

Because he was Wraetan.

Because he’d tried to be something else.

“Don’t tell me what to care about.” Aly was shaking.

“You’re the one living in a fantasy land. Not me,” Vin said. His eyes flashed. “You’re so busy trying to be a Kalusian poster boy, you get on your knees for the people who robbed you—”

“I dare you to keep running your mouth . . .” It was bad enough that the UniForce had screwed him over, even though he’d smiled for the cameras and played their little game. But he couldn’t stand for Vin to say it, to know that Vin saw what Aly had tried for so long to conceal.

“Or what? Aly, I’m giving you the chance now to do something about it, to join a revolution—”

“Fuck your revolution,” Aly exploded. He leaned forward so his face was just inches apart from Vin’s. Alina and his ma were dead; everyone would die. Maybe they were looking down on him now, the way the Kalusians believed—shaking their heads about the mess down here. Or maybe it was like the Fontisians said, and it was Vodhan who’d built the world, and now he was pissed they’d ruined it. He imagined Vodhan throwing his hands up, peacing out, just disappearing to try again somewhere else.

“Don’t act like you know me. I sure as hell don’t know you. Liar.” Aly felt toxic. “You play revolutionary because you think it’s fun. Or maybe you just think you’re a hero. Why not? Everyone’s always told you that you’re a hero, right?” Shame and anger edged each other for space deep down in his gut. “It’s easy to be a hero when you’ve never faced anything, never fought anything, always had everything handed to you. It’s easy to fight when you’ve never tasted blood in your mouth—”

Vin hit him. Aly staggered backward, and his goggles flew off his face and spun on their strap halfway around his neck. For a second, Aly just stood there, stunned, while Vin watched him with no expression on his face—vague, almost curious, flexing and unflexing his fingers.

Then Aly tackled him. They went down into the sand, and plumes of grit came up in their eyes and mouths. Aly landed a punch directly on Vin’s nose and heard the crack. Blood was streaming into Vin’s mouth, and Vin was choking, and suddenly Aly pulled away, horrified and ashamed.

Then he realized Vin wasn’t choking. He was laughing.

“See?” he said, propping himself up on his elbow. His voice sounded thick. “Blood in my mouth. Happy now?”

Before Aly could apologize, the greenhouse door opened behind him. Instinctively, he turned around. He saw his mask and goggles scattered across the floor. On instinct, Aly’s hands flew up to try and cover his bare face.

“Because I’m feeling generous, I’ve decided to do half a crate for four thousand—” The Derkatzian merchant froze, both arms full of plants. He looked at Aly with his round black eyes and stuck his flat snout in the air. Pointy ears that had laid back flat, hidden in his fur, perked up. “Well, well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t the most wanted dusty in the universe.”

He lifted his hand toward his neck to access his cube, but Aly tackled him before he could transmit. The Derkatzian let out a garbled yell as they fell back and landed with a thud on the ground. He was wrapped in a filthy tunic like all the other locals, and his exposed fur was matted with sand. Aly gagged from the smell as he pinned the man down, grabbing hold of his wrists. Plants were scattered everywhere.