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He doesn’t sound angry. As far as I can tell, there’s no pretense in his voice and no reproach, either. The question is completely matter-of-fact.
Why does that hurt more than his anger?
I straighten up, looking into his eyes. “I need to make sure you’re all in.”
He cocks his head, a frown written on his face. “I’m piloting you into Hyperborean space. It’s a ridiculous idea, and yet here I am, on a ship I’m not familiar with, driving all of us toward almost certain doom. What about this makes you think that I’m not all in?”
I know it’s going to sound offensive before I say it, but I have no choice. I’ve thought about how to phrase this several times, and this is the only thing I’m landing on. “But you’re doing this because you have to,” I say. “You wouldn’t have stayed on Alamancia when a war is about to happen, especially when you knew that…when you knew that Nereus would be affected and that he would be coming with us.”
He straightens a little at that. I watch his Adam’s apple moving in his throat as he swallows, his jaw hardening. “I have been…I was a prisoner for a very long time, Fiona,” he says. I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully, too. Even then, I hear the anger bubbling up inside of him, and there’s a part of me that wants to wrap my arms around him and hold him close. If Taln can tell me everything is going to be okay, why can’t I tell Kye the same thing? “But I am a service member and an airman, and I was on active duty when the accident happened. I’m not a deserter. I don’t run away.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that,” I say in a whisper.
“You didn’t have to,” he replies.
I shake my head, which is suddenly throbbing, and rake my fingers anxiously through my hair. This conversation has gone even worse than I thought it was going to, and I thought it was going to go extremely poorly.
“Kye,” I force myself to say. “We need you. Homeworld needs you, Nereus needs you. I need you.”
“Right,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders, and I realize that this is his version of dismissing me. I have to choke back tears when he picks his gaze up to look into my eyes. “I understand, Fiona. I have my orders.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say. My voice sounds like it’s about to break.
“It’s okay,” he says. He doesn’t sound angry, just resigned. It’sworse. I hate it. “Don’t worry. I’ve trained for this.”
And then he gets back to piloting the ship, and there’s nothing left to say.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KYE
It’s been a long time since I last flew in Hyperborean space.
We rendezvous with Cressida’s ship, the Nautilus, and then we’re off to Borealis. A militarized zone borders their galaxy, sleek silver ships zooming across our line of sight every so often while turrets follow our every move. Most of these are drones—it’s rare to see a Hyperborean off their homeworld, and if you do, it’s bad news—but they’re deadly all the same.
As usual, the cockpit becomes a carousel of visitors, all wanting me to listen to some problem or another. I’m a good listener—especiallywhen I’m piloting, as I can’t quite focus on talking myself—but that doesn’t mean I necessarily want an endless stream of people talking my ear off. Sure, I like the company every so often, but it’s starting to become a problem.
Or…one person is starting to become a problem.
Fiona seems to think she’s on the guest list, and I can’t always tolerate that.
I’m already frustrated when she leaves me alone after accusing me of deserting, and it only makes matters worse when a silent visitor joins me. The only reason I know he’s there is because of my awareness of the ship, not via my own senses; even with his hulking size, he’s quiet as death.
Orion.
He doesn’t say anything as he enters, pausing to look through one of the windows at the starboard side of the Wrath. We’re circling around Vehyris at the moment, an ice planet going through some fundamental changes as the Boreans mine the planet for Elixir. Strange things start to happen when planets are sapped of Elixir, drained by the space vampires of the Alpha Worlds.
Fuck, I hate it here.
The spot Orion stares at is the eye of a hurricane, a single point of clear blue with a shocking amount of green at its center. I glance over to find Orion with his scaled arms crossed over his chest, his tail flicking absently as he stares down at it.
I let out a deep breath before breaking the silence. “I see I’m getting a visit from my second least favorite person on the Wrath.”
He snorts, the sound more like something a beast would make than a humanoid. “I presume I’m not meant to take that as a compliment.”
“You’re not,” I deadpan. “What do you want, Orion?”
“I’m merely taking in the view,” he says.
