Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(14)

I’m actually a little surprised at that. To be honest, I didn’t think Zila liked anyone much at all. But before I can ponder this new revelation, Ty and the others have reached us at the Opha May’s berth.

The grin on my bee-bro’s face makes me grin back, despite the fact that nobody can see under my helmet. As soon as Gruber and his boys get their gear together, we’ll be on our way.

“It is a nice ship,” Auri sighs through our comms channel, looking her over.

Even knowing nothing about ships, I have to agree—it’s a beauty. We’ve all had it rough in the last few weeks, but it seems like things are finally going our way. Our Trigger girl looks tired, but totally awake. For once in his life, Finian seems to have run out of sass, shooting me a goofy smile instead. Only Kal looks a touch out of sorts.

Syldrathi are a little hard for me to read beyond their genetically ingrained arrogance. I guess if I was going to live three hundred years and everyone around me would be dead in half that, I’d be a little distant, too. But this isn’t our Tank’s typical You are but mayflies attitude at work. Looking at the frown on his pretty face, the dilation of his pupils, I’d say he looks almost … nervous.

“You all right?” I murmur.

“… Kal?” Auri asks, reaching out to brush his hand with her fingertips.

He rubs his brow, looking around the docks. “I feel—”

“Hello, Kaliis.”

The voice comes from behind him. Sharp enough that it cuts through the clamor. Something about it fills my stomach with ice-cold butterflies. And turning across the crowded dock, I see a young woman glowering at the back of Kal’s head.

I mean, she looks like a young woman. Maybe nineteen or twenty. But with Syldrathi it’s hard to tell. She’s taller even than me. She has the flawless olive skin and high cheekbones and aching, ethereal elegance of all her people. Her eyes are narrowed, dazzling, bright violet. Her hair is long, swept back over her tapered ears in ornate braids of inky black—she’s the only Syldrathi I’ve ever seen with hair that color. She’s the kind of beautiful that plucks your heart out through your ribs.

But she’s wearing black armor, daubed with white Syldrathi script. The glyf of the Warbreed Cabal is etched on her brow—three crossed blades, just like Kal’s. There’s a stripe of black paint running from temple to temple, right across her eyes. Her lips are painted black too, and there’s a cord of what might be severed thumbs strung around her neck. And as she smiles, I note she’s filed her canines into points.

I’ve seen armor like hers before. On the news feeds of the Orion Incursion. The surprise attack where Dad was killed. She’s one of the renegade cabal of militants who started the Syldrathi civil war.

Unbroken.

“Spirits of the Void … ,” Kal breathes, looking at her.

Ty looks at him sidelong. “Kal?”

I can feel the sudden tension radiating off our Tank in waves. Every muscle flexed, hands clenching into fists. His voice drops to absolute zero.

“All of you, listen to me carefully,” he says. “Do not let her get close to you.”

The young woman is still gliding nearer, cutting through the crowd like a knife. Kal reaches out to Auri beside him, presses her back.

“Get behind me, Aurora.”

She blinks. “Kal, what’s—”

“Be’shmai.” He meets her mismatched eyes with his. “Please.”

“It is true, then.”

I turn back to the Unbroken woman. She’s stopped about ten meters away, looking at Kal with her lip curled. She’s speaking in Syldrathi, but language studies were one of the few subjects at the academy I was good at, so surprise, honey, I speak it too. One hand is propped at her hip, contempt twisting that beautiful face into something ugly and awful.

“When the adepts you thrashed in that bar brawl on the World Ship told me the tale, I could scarce believe it,” she tells Kal. “I cut their throats to silence their lies. But I should have known you were capable of sinking to any depth. Any shame.” Violet eyes flicker to Aurora. “Enough even to name a human beloved.”

Kal’s hand slips to the disruptor under his jacket.

“What do you want, Saedii?” he asks.

Hmm. They’re on a first-name basis. Interesting …

Madam Badass lowers her chin and smiles with pointed teeth.

“You know what I want, Kaliis,” she replies.

The Opha May’s crew is emerging from the ship behind us now, arms loaded with luggage, frowning in confusion at the scene in front of them. Tyler whispers a warning, and I catch glimpses of six more Unbroken fanning out in the crowd. I spot another two on the warehouse roof opposite our landing pad. They all have black armor, long silver hair, beautiful, battle-scarred faces. Warbreed glyfs on their brows and smiles on their lips and hate in those big, pretty eyes.

But as dangerous as this crew might look, these docks are way too busy for them to start any real trouble. I don’t know who these pixies are, but whatever’s going on here, I’ve had about enough of it. Time to put this uniform to work again and get the hells off this station before the real trouble arrives.

“You will refrain from coming any closer,” I say in Syldrathi, putting on my Voice of Authority again. “These individuals are in the custody of the GIA, and—”