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The bot appeared, upside-down, head dangling. He peered through the window. “Yes?”
“Give Drake the letter.” Her face felt stiff, her stomach roiling with dread.
She watched Drake take it, pull the letter from the envelope, and read it, his gaze flicking across the page. Then he folded it and stuck the letter into a pocket in his coat. The envelope fluttered to the floor.
“Okay.” He turned, leaning his arm and elbow on the seat’s back, though without touching her. “This is how it is, as I see it. That last letter said he wanted to meet you over an hour ago. Since you missed it they may assume something went wrong.”
“Or I didn’t read it,” she grimly pointed out. Everything seemed grim. The air seemed made of stone.
His mouth twitched. “Yes. As for the rest. This isn’t your brother. I saw the dental records and the fingerprints on the hand that remained. We may not be able to do DNA but that was conclusive.”
It wasn’t him. Her blood seemed to drain to her stomach, to her toes. “Who then?”
“General Vass?” He shrugged.
“Or Aegis, or my palace guard general whose name I forget.”
“Hmmm. He is pretty dull. Also incompetent. These letters got past your door guards. We have a traitor in the palace. I can pin that down. Find out who.”
“You mean two traitors.” Her mouth turned down all by itself and she trembled. “There’s me too.”
“No. Shush.” Drake’s shoulders rose and fell and he sighed. “Don’t traumatize yourself. Please.” He frowned, unfrowned, reached over to clasp her hand where it lay over her thigh.
“I deserve your disgust.” Tears were wandering down her cheeks.
“No,” he said firmly. “Not disgust, though I will punish your ass later. I understand why you did this, even if it was stupid.”
“Stupid?” she snorted. “Well... okay. It may have been.”
“Whoever did this wanted to capture or even kill you.” Slowly he wound up the window glass. “I have to—”
Sassi appeared again in the narrow gap. “Incoming hostiles!”
The window shut. Brilliant shards of light glowed against the night sky.
“Your friendly meeting has come to us.” Drake popped open a ceiling panel and a gun dropped down on cords. He yanked it loose from the attachments, opened the door, and leaped out. Behind him gunfire stuttered and flashed on the narrow street. Orders were shouted, hands waved. Silhouetted figures dashed forward. “Stay!” he told her before slamming the door shut.
Something banged above her head, then a deafening boom rocked the coach and threw it onto its side.
She shrieked and managed to roll as it moved and not be hurt more than a bruise or two.
Above the door was wrenched open and she saw Sassi crouched and shooting with a handgun at unseen targets.
“Multiple targets. Multiple,” Sassi recited. “Outcome poor. Friendly forces outnumbered and with lesser weapons. Got that, Princess?”
From where she lay against the opposite door, on the bottom of the toppled coach, Calli nodded, then she said it. “Yes. What can we do? Is Drake okay?”
Please let him be.
“Affirmative. He’s okay. Suggest you approve Protocol Dynamic Kill, my princess.” A burning projectile shot past Sassi’s head as he turned and peered down at her.
“What is th—” She stopped herself. Whatever it was, they needed it. “Yes. I approve Protocol Dynamic Kill.”
“Thank you.” Sassi stretched to full height and the metal he was made of flowed into new, sleeker positions, lights zipped across and around his legs and torso. With an ululating scream, he launched into the air.
Mouth open, she listened.
More screams ensued. The enemy, she prayed.
