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Orion huffs out a breath, regarding Kye coolly. “I’m sensing a certain level of derision in your tone, human. But be that as it may, I have no intention of letting Lamia escape. Not this time.”
Kye’s mouth drops open in mock shock. “Actually, that was flattery,” he mutters, but everyone ignores him, and the conversation moves along.
“And we have an advantage in that we know that palace inside and out,” Taln says. “We’re going to make it out. Together. And then…then we’ll have time to bicker over who gets to spend the night with you on any given day.”
I laugh, his comment almost helping me forget about what’s to come. I reach out for each of them, and I find hands clutching mine, or resting on my knees.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “When this is all over…well, we’re just going to get a bigger bed.”
And that’s what I choose to focus on as we stride into the fight of our lives.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
RYKER
A holo-map of Homeworld’s capital city hovers in the air over the table between us, staining the whole room in deep blue. It reminds me of home—of walking the corridors of the palace and looking out on the deep sea life of the Atarys Abyss, when we were all safe and Lamia wasn’t in control.
I have to believe that soon, those days will return.
Fiona stands on the other side of the table, her eyes narrowed as she stares at the map from beside Nereus. Orion stalks around the table, sometimes zooming into certain areas to get a better view. I’m personally no strategist—more of a grunt, in fact—but Fiona has spent the past year reading battle techniques, combat manuals, and strategic guidelines from all over the Alpha Worlds and beyond.
She’s managed to do so much in such a short amount of time. I wonder what else she’ll achieve in our long life together.
“So,” Cressida begins, “we have three units in play, along with your group on the Wrath. My forces will be the main front, though the fleet will be smaller as we need to leave guards behind should Calypso decide to attack.”
“Of course,” Nereus says. “Understood.”
“There’s also the Homeworld refugees,” Aramis says from the edge of the room. “Sten and I will be leading them into battle on the ground to take care of any forces Lamia has under her control. My understanding is that morale is low in Atarys, so even if she’s rallied her forces to her, she won’t be able to control all of them—and they may be more willing to desert if they know there’s a brighter future on the horizon.”
“Have we heard anything from the Hyperborean Empire?” Taln asks. “There’s still a chance that Lamia’s allies there could swoop in to save her.”
“My sources in the Empire tell me that your little stunt on Scylla effectively silenced any potential allies,” Cressida says, glancing at Orion. “There is, of course, a small chance that someone could try to help her, but after the way your assassin eviscerated Xanthos…I doubt it.”
“Do the people of Homeworld even know we’re coming?” Nereus asks. “Before we arrived on Triton, Lamia had the whole galaxy convinced that I was dead or in the wind.”
“Your little crew has caused quite the stir,” Verdie says from the corner. The Mlok councilor stands with her arms crossed, her opalescent scales glimmering in the light from the hologram. “And my agents have been busy planting seeds of hope amongst the people of Homeworld.”
“Speaking of which…the Hunt is with us,” Orion murmurs. “Now that we’ve supplanted Preceptor Lynx, Jazminda is in control–and she wants Lamia gone as much as the rest of us.”
“So we have a squadron of stealth forces, a professional army, and a scrappy, hodgepodge group of rebels from all over the galaxy,” Fiona says. “Okay…okay, that sounds right. Anything else?”
“Well—us,” Kye shrugs. “Just trying to think about how we can help here without putting ourselves in too much danger.”
Cressida frowns. “If you were being smart, Nereus and Fiona would stay here on Triton while the rest of you go into battle—”
“No fucking way,” Fiona says, cutting her off. I don’t even try to hide my pleasure at how fiercely protective she is of us—and the way that she insists on defying Cressida. “They aren’t going anywhere without me.”
“Have it your way,” Cressida snaps. “My people are the ones who will suffer when you’re all dead.”
Fiona’s fists clench, and she opens her mouth for a retort, but Orion speaks first.
“I have a plan,” he says. “But I don’t think any of you are going to like it.”
He’s at least effective in redirecting our ire elsewhere. We all look over at him, Taln cocking a brow. “Well?” he says. “We’re listening.”
Orion leans forward, flicking his talons in the hologram to zoom in on the palace. “The best way to eliminate Lamia is to catch her by surprise,” he says. “Facing a magister head-on is suicide; even without her mind control, her telekinesis is enough to kill. In fact, I would say that what army she has left is the least of our worries.”
“Go on,” Fiona says.
