Empress of a Thousand Skies(49)



There was a dinging service announcement. The girl did that thing where she looked up, like the voice had come out of the sky—but Aly somehow got fixated on the tan skin on her neck, the way her shirt fell just so, and had to look away. He couldn’t let himself be distracted. “Arriving in Navrum. This zeppelin will be making stops in the Bazorl and Desuco Quadrants,” the captain announced, then repeated the message again in Fontisian, Wraetan, and Derkatzian. That meant, Aly knew, that the freighter must cut a path directly through Rhesto’s orbit.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m coming with you.” Aly still didn’t totally understand why she was helping him, but getting to the safe house in Rhesto felt like the most solid plan he’d had in days. But then it occurred to him: “Navrum City is at the edge of the Rellia Quadrant. Rhesto isn’t a scheduled stop. How the hell are you planning to get off this thing mid-orbit?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You hitched a ride on a zeppelin,” she said, “but have you ever hitched a ride off?”





FIFTEEN


    RHIANNON



RHEE and Dahlen had been herded into a holding area by the two Tasinn who caught them, and now they stood among dozens of other loop jumpers waiting to be kicked off at the next stop. Fortunately, the next stop was exactly where Rhee wanted to go.

“Descending onto Navrum shortly. Please fasten your seat belt and ensure all belongings are secured,” the overhead recording announced.

The zeppelin shuddered as it burned through the atmosphere. Rhee was hemmed in too tightly to lose her balance. She’d never believed in luck, but this was almost enough to convince her. It was her plan all along to sneak off onto this very planet, where Nero was meeting with governments of Kalusian allies and broadcasting interviews. She’d seen on the public holos how Kalu was being edged into war now that everyone believed her dead. Rhee desperately needed to reach Nero, to use his platform and fame, so she could reveal herself alive on his broadcast. Now that Rhee knew of Seotra’s innocence, she could stalk the inner workings of the council and find out who’d really been behind her family’s betrayal. It was a risk to expose herself, she knew that. But now was the time to be bold.

A sharp, sudden pressure at the base of her spine made her stumble forward, into a woman in front of her. “Is that necessary?” she asked, twisting around to glare at one of the Tasinn, who only laughed in response.

It was the third time a member of the royal guard had rammed her with the tip of a metal baton. There were too many people corralled in too small a space, and the Tasinn seemed to make a game of it, jabbing them forward at random, using specialized metal prongs to shock the ones who complained. She overheard two guards gossiping about one of their own losing his badge, but apart from that, Rhee barely understood all the languages and dialects piping up among the prisoners. She didn’t need to speak to them, though, to pick up the fear and tension in their words. The whole thing made Rhee sick. Who was commanding them? Who would keep them in line? Her father would have never stood for such cruelty from his own royal guard.

A familiar shame snaked around her organs, as if the weight of every responsibility was hers to feel. Was that what being empress meant? And was it honorable to take the throne solely in order to take her revenge?

Dahlen tried to press closer to her to shield her with his body, but Rhee pushed him away. He’d betrayed her. As soon as the opportunity arose, she would lose him and find Nero.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, without looking at him. He’d killed a man, she reminded herself. Killed him horribly, without mercy, without giving him the chance to defend himself.

But would she have acted any better?

She refused to feel guilty for lying to Dahlen, for misleading him about her plans to abandon him—not when he had lied to her first, and ruined her chances of learning the truth from Seotra.

“Hey. You. Vodhead. No talking.” One of the Tasinn reached out and shocked Dahlen with a Taser, hard. He seized, and Rhee grabbed for him, feeling the jolt that rang through her whole head, like biting down on a metal spoon.

She recoiled as Dahlen collapsed to the ground. The other jumpers shrieked. Her heart shot up through her throat. Rhee moved to help him, but he pushed her away as if she were the one who’d electrocuted him. It was all so traumatic that she almost didn’t realize she had his ring in her hand. It had slipped off Dahlen’s finger when she’d tried to grab him. When their eyes met, he shook his head, and she felt a rush of doubt. His face had hollowed out in the last week since he had saved her life, and he looked even paler than usual.

Before he could stand, he was shocked again, by a different guard—a man who’d pushed his way through the crowd, dedicated to enacting this torture. That was twice now and counting. Rhee suspected they kept choosing Dahlen because they knew he wouldn’t cry out. She squeezed her hand around his ring and breathed deeply, in and out, focusing only on her next move, on what was coming. Dahlen would be slower, now, after the electric shocks. Rhee would simply lose him in the crowd. Easy.

Her stomach was coiled tightly, guilt gripping her insides. She’d taken advantage of his torture.

The zeppelin touched down with a jolt. Everyone stumbled together. When the doors slid open, the sunlight stung her eyes, and the loop jumpers began pouring out. Rhee leapt down off the zeppelin, hearing the laughter of the guards at her back, taunting the jumpers and threatening worse punishments if they tried to get a free ride again.

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