Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle #1)(84)

“And a grateful Bianchi would hand over Auri while the rest of us got shot,” Cat adds.

“But the GIA hit the den early … ,” Dariel objects. “Beat the crap out of Fin.”

“So we had to go through the ultrasaur enclosure instead.” I nod. “And Kal had to storm the flat to take out the GIA instead of waiting for them in ambush.”

“He was … kinda terrifying,” Dariel murmurs.

“Again, sorry about the mess,” Scar says.

“All that really mattered was getting hold of the GIA uniforms,” I say. “It’s hard to tell who’s actually under those masks. And Scar can sell almost anything.”

Dariel blinks. “So … you went to all that trouble … just to get caught?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “But we had to be in the office when the GIA arrived. After that, the only thing Cat and I really needed to do was get in a fistfight.”

“Take Bianchi’s eyes off the prize.” Cat nods.

“Make sure nobody was watching me,” Auri says quietly.

Dariel turns as the girl speaks. And with a triumphant smile, she reaches into the bunches of bright red tulle around her waist, and produces a three-fingered statue wrought in strange metal, a winking diamond set in the chest, its right eye a gleaming pearl.

“Classic misdirection.” I shrug. “Basic tactics, second semester.”

“How long until Bianchi notices it’s gone?” Dariel asks.

“Given the state of disarray we left his office in,” Zila says, “I would estimate another three to four minutes. Approximately.”

“And the Bellerophon is still en route to the World Ship,” Cat says. “And from the sound of things, I don’t think Mr. Princeps is going to be happy about what Kal did to the only two agents the GIA had aboard.”

“You have no idea,” Scarlett says.

Auri blinks. “So … remind me why we aren’t running?”

It’s a good question, and I can’t think of a good answer. And so we do. Dashing past the loaders and dockers, down through the tangled snarl of the World Ship berths, along the transparent umbilical leading to our Longbow. The airlock is open, and Kal’s waiting for us. His Uncle Enzo’s delivery uniform is spattered in blood, a disruptor rifle is in his hand. He sees us, and though he keeps that typical Syldrathi cool in place, his lips curl in a small smile.

Aurora meets his eyes.

His smile falls away.

“We should move, sir,” he says.

I nod, turn to Dariel and shake his hand in thanks. “I don’t know what Fin owes you, but I owe you now too, big-time. You need my help in the future, just shout.”

Scarlett kisses Dariel on the cheek and winks. “Thanks, Romeo.”

Dariel turns to Zila, a small smirk on his lips. “Do I get a kiss from you, too?”

“Thank you, goodbye,” she says, walking right past and into the ship.

Aurora produces a second artifact from the folds of her skirts—it’s a small carved figure in a greenish stone. She holds it out to Dariel. “I grabbed this for you. In case you need some relocation funds.”

He pockets it with a grin. “Probably not the worst idea,” he admits. “And thanks, those stalactites weren’t cheap.”

The rest of us hustle aboard. With a final nod to Dariel, we seal the airlock behind us, scatter up to the bridge. Finian is already in his chair. His suit seems a little worse for wear, and he’s working on the left forearm with a small photon welder, looking bruised and miserable. But he perks up when he catches sight of us. Shamrock is sitting in his lap.

Cat scowls at him as she slips into the pilot’s seat.

“That’s my dragon,” she says.

“I was just holding him for you,” Finian says, tossing the toy across.

“What for?” she asks, snatching Shamrock from the air.

“Figured we could use the luck.”

Cat grins, kissing the dragon on his head and punching commands into her console. “Shut up, Finian.”

We strap ourselves in, running through preflight check. My hands are flowing over my controls, and I don’t know what comes next. I know the Bellerophon is inbound to Sempiternity. I know they won’t stop till they have Auri in their custody. I don’t know who or what she is, or where she’s leading us. No doubt we’re being hunted by the Terran dreadnoughts that patrol the Fold, too, and I know we just made another deadly enemy in Casseldon Bianchi.

But that’s the future’s problem. For now, we need to get out of here before— “Alert,” says the PA. “Alert. All departures from the World Ship are suspended by order of Casseldon Bianchi, pending search operations. Please power down your engines and—”

“Hold on to your undies, kids!” Cat shouts.

She hits the thrusters, docking clamps shrieking as they try to stop us blasting free. But with a burst of full power, a bone-shaking tremor, and scream of metal, we tear out into the black and leave the World Ship in our wake. Momentum pushes me back into my seat and for a moment it’s hard to breathe. And then I remember how lucky I am to be breathing at all.

We’re out.

We made it.

I look around the bridge at my crew. Squad 312. This pack of losers and discipline cases and sociopaths, these misfits that nobody in the whole of Aurora Academy wanted to get paired with. And I realize the magnitude of what we just pulled off.