Dragon Pearl(63)

“Your name,” Hwan said. I hated the way his voice sounded even more threatening through his helmet.

“Kim Min,” I said. I didn’t want to be a liar, not right now. Besides, he already knew the most dangerous thing about me—that I was a fox. Best to keep things straightforward.

“Ah,” he said. “The lost cadet’s sister.”

So Jun had mentioned me. For a moment I felt a mixture of outrage, fear, and pride. What had Jun said about me? I doubted the captain would reveal that, though.

“What did you do to my brother?” I said.

“You appear to be misinformed,” Hwan said coolly. Once again I wished I could take off my helmet and find out if he smelled of deception.

“I gave myself up like you told me to,” I said. “You’ll let Haneul and Sujin go?”

“The cadets still have a lot of explaining to do,” he said, “but yes. You have my word.”

Strangely, I believed him.

“Take Min to solitary confinement,” Hwan ordered some soldiers. “Return the mercenaries to their cells in the brig.”

Every one of my nerves screamed at me to flee, change into a spiky metal ball, anything to avoid being locked up like an ordinary animal. Hwan had complete power over me, though. I thought of Sujin refusing to meet my eyes, of Haneul’s stiff back. We might not be friends anymore—if we’d ever been friends to begin with, considering how I’d deceived them—but that didn’t mean they deserved to suffer.

I didn’t think I deserved to be imprisoned, either, but I’d have to deal with that myself.

Four soldiers fell in, two in front of me and two behind. I bowed my head and walked with them. Despite their size, the Pale Lightning’s passageways, which I’d started to think of as a second home, felt like they were about to collapse on me.

I recognized the brig’s cells, but we walked beyond them to a section I hadn’t visited before. We reached a bleak, empty room with a shimmering force shield for a door. That spelled trouble. I could get through bars, but a force shield? No way.

One of my guards punched a code into the keypad. Unfortunately, she shielded her right hand with the other so I couldn’t see the numbers. It figured that they’d stick to security protocol now.

The force shield flickered out. “Take off your suit,” the guard said, “and go in. Don’t try anything funny or we’ll vent air out of this entire section. If you shape-shift, we’ll blast anyone—or anything—that looks suspicious.”

“I won’t,” I said. At least, I wouldn’t right then. Not when they were alert. Later, though . . . later was another story, especially if I could get Sujin and Haneul to come with me. While deserting was a serious crime, I couldn’t imagine that they had much loyalty left for a captain who had threatened to execute them for something they couldn’t have known. Or so I told myself.

As much as I hadn’t enjoyed suiting up, I discovered that peeling it off made me feel even worse. The suit only provided limited protection from blaster fire, and it wouldn’t have been much good against regular bullets, but it was better than nothing. Now, if the guards decided to get rid of me, I wouldn’t have any armor at all.

I held my breath for a second. But no one raised a blaster and roasted me. Good to know. The guard cleared her throat, and I obediently trudged into the cell.

The force shield thrummed back into existence, trapping me inside. “I don’t recommend ramming into it,” the guard said. “It’ll knock you out, and we’ll be happy to leave you that way.”

I almost retorted that she didn’t scare me, then thought better of it. I wanted her to think I was defeated, get her to let down her defenses. I’d take any advantage I could scrounge up. So I only responded with a shaky nod.

My act was in vain. She’d already turned her back, leaving me alone in the cell with a harsh light blazing from the ceiling. I curled up on the combination bench/bunk and settled in for a nap. Maybe ideas for how to escape would come to me after I’d gotten some rest.

Dreams plagued my sleep. In one, Jun and I were standing at the edge of a cliff beneath a sky strewn with white stars. Jun was about to plunge over the edge, and even worse, he wasn’t looking where he was going. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder, gesturing for me to follow. I grabbed for him and—

“Min,” said a voice I had grown to hate. Captain Hwan’s.

I jolted awake and sat up, resisting the urge to rub the grit out of my eyes. Then I clambered to my feet. My knees felt rubbery, and it was difficult not to sway. But Hwan, standing just beyond the force-field door, was already a lot taller than I was. I didn’t like having him tower over me.

His shadow fell before him, as sharp as a sword. I had to resist the temptation to tuck in my feet so they wouldn’t be cut by its edge. There was something of the tiger in that shadow, and I could smell his confidence.

“Min,” he said, “let’s talk.”

I was suddenly glad I’d never heard any lore about tiger folk using people’s names against them. But I eyed the blaster holstered at his belt and shivered. “Talk about what?”

“Show me your true form,” Hwan said.

I held my hands out before me and said, “This is my true form.”

He frowned slightly. “That’s the shape you wear when you go among humans, yes,” he said. “But you are a fox, not a human.”