Cytonic (Skyward #3)(44)

That about proved it: Chet hadn’t sold me out. He’d run, yes, but that was smart.

Scud, I felt like a complete idiot. Maybe after being betrayed by Brade, I was overly sensitive. Or maybe I was just a terrible judge of people.

Yeah…it was probably that. I had to face it, didn’t I? I’d spent most of my training assuming Jorgen was a legitimate jerk, while he was actually pretty un-jerky. But I’d tried hard to trust Brade despite the way she acted. I heaved a sigh and tipped my head back to stare at the ceiling.



I only wanted to fly again. I’d trained all my life to be a warrior. That was what I knew, what I understood. How did I keep ending up in situations like this instead?

“Hey,” Peg said, shoving me on the shoulder, “don’t get like that. You might not realize it, but you’re far better off scrubbing our floors than you would be out there on your own.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Keep her on a leash,” Peg said, striding away. “And don’t let her near that drone, just in case. I’m gonna go back to sleep.”





“Leash,” it turned out, meant a light-line.

I’d never seen one used this way. A loop on one end was fastened around my neck, the other end attached to the wall. The control mechanism was locked tight, leaving me stuck. I’d sooner chew through iron links with my teeth than find a way to slice a light-line.

Though the pirates had joked about making me clean floors, they actually pulled over a box of parts for me, along with several containers of lubricant. They told me to grease each part and set them out on a cloth.

This was good. They could have left me to feel sorry for myself—and there’s no telling how long I would have indulged that. But when they plopped down the gears and made fun of me for getting caught, demanding I work…well, that made me angry. And anger considers defeatism to be easy prey.

I did as they asked, but as soon as I’d gathered my wits and my determination, I quested out with my cytonic senses, searching for Chet. I found his mind relatively nearby; I thought maybe he’d made his way back onto the blue jungle fragment to hide, if it hadn’t drifted away already.

Chet? I said to his mind.



Ah, he said, his “voice” laced with pain. Miss Nightshade. It is good to hear that you are well. I had feared the worst!

You’re hurt! I said.

Merely a…small wound, he said. A destructor shot grazed me. Nothing an old hound like me hasn’t felt a dozen times over! Ha…

It was bravado. I could feel he was legitimately in pain. And it was my fault.

Be careful, he warned me. Talking this way could draw delver attention!

That gave me pause. He was right. Yet I had an impression… Ever since that moment at the Path, something had changed about my powers, or my understanding of them. I knew better how to hide.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. When I reached out to someone like Chet, I could now see that I always did the cytonic equivalent of shouting. So I tried to focus, control my voice. I returned to Chet and brushed his mind with a soft whisper instead.

How is this?

Miss Nightshade! he said. Why, that is marvelous. How did you learn to be so quiet?

I’m learning just now, I said. But then, I’d always had a talent for hearing the stars—and the night before, I’d been able to catch thoughts Brade hadn’t wanted to share with me. I think maybe you don’t need to project your thoughts to me. Just think them while we’re connected, and I will overhear them.

Does this work? he asked, plainly trying to do as I asked.

It does, I said.

Excellent! What is your situation, then?

Captured, I said. Chained to the wall and greasing some parts for starship repair.

Could be worse, Chet said. What is the plan?

I haven’t really gotten that far.

Fair enough! Chet said. But this need only be a minor setback. In fact, it could be for the best! We must find a way to visit the next location on the Path of Elders, which is deep within Broadsider territory. I had worried about them hunting us down once we stole a ship. It would be difficult to find time to indulge in a vision while under fire.



But with you infiltrating their base, perhaps we can find a way to prevent that. Could you see if you can learn how they patrol their territory?

There was a certain forced boisterousness to his words. Connected to him as I was now, I could see that more clearly than ever. He wasn’t simply a bundle of endless optimism; he chose to speak this way deliberately.

You are in pain, I said to him. I’m worried about you.

Don’t be. Just focus on getting us a ship. Ha! Those pirates have no idea what they’ve done by bringing you in among them, I must say.

I found myself smiling. And…well, he did have a point. I could use this. Being captured by pirates was exactly the kind of awesome thing that happened in the stories; it was merely another interesting challenge to overcome. Plus, I was inadvertently being given a chance to practice my cytonic skills.

Except I couldn’t gloss over how my mistake had landed us in this situation. I had to come clean.

Chet, I said. I’m sorry. I messed all of this up.

You mustn’t blame yourself, Miss Nightshade, he replied. Sometimes plans don’t work out.

Except, I said, it was because of me. I…changed the plan at the last minute, sneaking into a different hangar than we’d discussed.