Honor Among Thieves (The Honors #1)(103)

Her hands were brutal and efficient, and they slipped the joint back together. I ate a shriek and then stopped wanting to die. There were levels of pain, and compared to the migraines I used to get, this was a five at best. I breathed through it and eventually managed to whisper, “Thanks.”

“You did well,” Chao-Xing told me.

It felt like a hug.

Honor Cole. The deep voice startled me because it wasn’t Nadim. It was Typhon. Technically, we were bonded through him, as the boarding tube still connected the two ships, but I didn’t realize the Elder could do this, especially at such a remove.

I answered hesitantly. Yeah? Then, How are you talking to me right now?

There is something in your brain not like other humans, he said. I suppose he meant my Leviathan DNA patch, to cure the headaches. I didn’t like the implications. And you touched my mind before. I have the right to speak with you.

Last time you do it, Typhon. We’re not friends.

No, he agreed. We are not. But if you had not returned, all would have been lost.

For obvious reasons, I had to ask, Does this mean Nadim is safe?

Soul-deep weariness enveloped me. From judgment? Yes. There is no Gathering now. I owe my survival to him. Typhon paused before going on with great care. I am old. It is still possible to be a warrior with a living heart. Nadim has proved that.

While that didn’t entirely make sense, I thought I had the gist. But Nadim was done with standing by while I communed with Typhon. He enfolded me in warmth that also sent the Elder away, efficiently severing our contact. Nadim’s relief buoyed me up, but he was still citrine and crimson with fear and restrained violence.

“Are those creatures still a threat?” I asked. First question, most relevant.

“We are outpacing them,” he said. “They are going quiet now. I don’t know if that means they’re dead.”

“Do you know anything about them? Anything at all?”

“Only what you saw,” he told me. “But the others will know more.”

I had so many questions, but we needed to tend our rescued Honors first. “Okay. Shall we see who we’ve brought aboard?”

Chao-Xing was already on it, slicing the membranes with assurance. I kept one hand on my weapon in case this was a trick and something came out that needed to be shot. But when she dug her fingers into the slimy goo and scooped it away, the movement revealed a human face. Male, a little younger than Marko, dark skin, luxurious braids. Brown eyes opened and the man lurched upright, hacking up a spate of liquid.

“I lived?” He sounded none too sure, but I recognized his uniform. Definitely an Honor, but not one who’d come up with us.

“It appears so.” Chao-Xing gave him a hand and helped him climb out of his space placenta.

Figuring why not, I slashed the next one open and only recoiled slightly when I got a tentacle face instead of an earthling. Abysmal Hummus? I couldn’t remember the alien species name, but it looked just like the one I shot. Gingerly, I poked it—the skin felt like a manta ray, but thinner and more delicate—and then I launched backward when it scuttled at me.

History does repeat.

Only this time I didn’t fire, and it stopped just short of touching, writhing a bunch of tentacles at me. “Thanks this you for salvation.”

“Uhm. Sure. Could you, uh, back up?” I asked. It slithered away, blinking all its eyes at once. “Nice. Good.”

“Good,” it echoed. “Good?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

I didn’t know what he thought he was saying, and I glanced desperately at Chao-Xing. Who produced an H2 from her belt pouch. “What’re your birth names, and bond-names if you had one?”

“Yusuf,” said the human. “I served on Xolani for my Tour and later bonded with Artemisia for the Journey. Together, our name . . . is . . . was . . . Temiyus.” He seemed to process the tense then. Realizing his loss. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor, so stunned it hurt to see it.

I made an unconscious move, maybe to comfort him, but Nadim whispered, No. There is no help for him. Only time. And waiting to see if he is strong to bear it.

I couldn’t, I thought.

You must, Nadim said, bathing me in steely determination. If it comes to that. There must always be a you, even without me.

A breath that was almost a sob gusted out of me. And if I say that back to you?

Nadim had no reply.

Ignoring the tragedy she couldn’t change, Chao-Xing made a note and turned to the Abysmal Hummus. “Report your details.”

Like before, there were weird stops and starts in its speech, likely due to processing. “My . . . name is . . . He who Sings the Star Current. I . . . sailed with . . . Ship of Breakwater. For Tour. Deep bond with Hail to You, My Goddess. Bond-name, Star Current Goddess.”

“We need to repair your translation matrix, stat,” I mumbled.

The alien flashed me a couple of tentacles. “Good!”

“I really don’t know if you get what that means.”

Chao-Xing sighed. “We’ll just call you Starcurrent for now, if that’s all right?”

“Good,” said the tentacles.

Appearing satisfied, she turned to the other man. “What do you prefer?”

“Yusuf,” he whispered. “I am only Yusuf now.”