Heart of Iron (Heart of Iron #1)(40)

“Goddess, Barger,” Jax gasped, staring at the lifeless body between his crewmates.

A gaping hole was carved into the center of Barger’s back. Panic seized Jax’s insides and twisted, because he’d lost contact with that blasted Ironblood a few minutes ago. What if the Metals had shot him, too? What if he’d accidentally led the Ironblood straight into harm’s way? Goddess, he hated the Ironblood, but he hated the thought of him bleeding out somewhere alone even more.

“Have you seen Robb?” he asked, trying to disguise his panic.

Riggs shook his head. “Not since he ran off to go cut the power. You can’t possibly be going on the ship—it’s about to toss itself into Palavar.”

“How can a ship toss itself?” Wick muttered, but Riggs waved him off.

“You know what I meant—Jax!”

But the Solani was already latching his helmet on to his suit. “Look, whatever awoke the ship is ninety-nine-point-for-sure coming after us, and the Ironblood’s not answering his fucking comm-link.”

“Leave him,” Wick grunted, earning a sharp look from Riggs.

“What about the ship? You’re the pilot,” said Riggs.

“Wick, you can take the helm, yeah? ” Jax asked, and the Cercian nodded. “Good—if you don’t hear from me in five minutes, leave,” he added, stepping into the air lock.

Great—he was even sounding desperate now. But he wasn’t. He simply wanted to look after his investment. Yes, that was it. He’d saved the Ironblood’s life once. He didn’t want that rich brat to die now.

The door closed behind him and the air lock decompressed. He opened the outer door and grabbed onto the starbridge, hooking the safety strap onto his suit, and flicked the switch. Humming, the machine hauled him across the expanse toward the other ship.

The Tsarina made him feel much smaller than he already did as he traveled across the line between the ships. His heart thumped louder against his rib cage the closer he got to the air lock, the only sound save for the voice in his head telling him that he shouldn’t get attached.

You’ll regret it, the voice warned.

It sounded suspiciously like his father’s.

The zip line came to a stop with a whine, and Jax heaved himself into the Tsarina’s outer cargo air lock and closed the door behind him.

The ship’s cargo bay looked like a war zone. Half a dozen Metals lay sparking on the ground; a trail of blood was smeared across the floor in front of the cargo-bay doors. Barger’s blood. He wondered, faintly, if Ironbloods bled the same, and the panic made him frenzied.

“Lenda!” he called, taking off his helmet. The air in the Tsarina tasted like metal and dust. “Lenda! Where are you?”

The blond woman peeked up from behind one of the cargo crates. Her eyes were bloodshot. “What’re you doing over here?”

“Have you seen the Ironblood?” he asked, pretending he hadn’t noticed she had been crying.

“Not since before the ship lost power,” said Lenda, wiping her nose with the back of her arm. “The captain’s gone looking for Ana.”

“I know—she at least answered her comm-link,” he grumbled, and whirled around toward the opposite hallway, trying to remember what the ship’s map looked like. He’d told Robb to go into the ventilation shaft over there—the one with the destroyed grate—then that meant . . .

He went that way.

“Don’t wait for me. Once you see Siege and Ana, get off the ship!” he shouted back to Lenda, and took off running toward a door at the other end of the hull, grabbing a helmet off the floor—assuming it was Robb’s.

If the ship had powered down, that meant its emergency functions were depowering, too. He did not want to be swimming around on this ship in zero gravity. He hated zero gravity.

I’m going to kill Robb if he’s just not answering his comm-link, he thought, tripping on his own feet, as he followed down the hallway Robb would have shimmied alongside in the air shaft. It was dark, and he could barely see.

I’m going to kill him when I find him.

But in his head, kill sounded suspiciously like another word.

Foolish, self-centered Ironblood! And, just as vehemently, Foolish me.

The engine room must be somewhere in this area. He would search through every corridor until he found it. The ventilation shaft hadn’t taken Robb far. Just a few rooms, but the longer Jax ran, the farther it seemed to be.

Finally, he slid into the next hallway—and stopped.

It was a dead end. His heart plummeted like a rock into his toes. He was lost—was he lost? No, he couldn’t be. Solani were never lost. Solani knew exactly where they were exactly when they needed to—

Someone stepped out of the room at the end.

Dark, curly hair, sun-kissed skin, a lightsword in his hand illuminating the corridor like a flickering star. The boy lifted his sky-colored eyes to Jax.

“Ma’alor,” he breathed in relief, then a little louder, “Robb!”

His legs went faster than his mind, darting down the corridor before he could gather what little decorum and dignity he had left. The Ironblood looked flustered to see him.

“What are you—why are—”

“Here, put this on,” Jax interrupted, handing him the helmet. “Why weren’t you answering your comm-link?”