Page 158 of The Space Between Stars

“None.”

Niklaus gave him a pointed look that Chevek met without blinking. “If you can work with me, I’ll connect you with Friyal, like you asked, given he allows it.”

Again, Chevek’s head swiveled from side to side. They were alone. The southern mess was empty, so far as Niklaus could tell. Still, he stepped in close and lowered his voice. “A few hundred here, given the right incentives and lack of repercussions.” That was the power to make a difference. “But perhaps only fifty loyal to me, rather than the Groundling movement alone.”

Niklaus had only recently learned what loyalty was, given that when everything was on the line, he’d found his life woefully absent of it. Loyalty paid nothing. It couldn’t build a house. It couldn’t fill a stomach. But it could build an empire. And possibly… topple one.

“Friyal is gone. He deserted, because this encampment is about to experience an ambush, and he’s trying to prevent it. With your help, he might not be alone.”

Chevek’s arms crossed. “I hardly consider that connecting me to him.”

“Well, by my calculus, your chances of connecting with him are better if we all stay alive.”

Chevek seemed to chew over Niklaus’s words for long moments. “An ambush… by the Shadewalker?”

“I’m not really sure. I’m speaking on faith alone.”

“That’s thin broth to risk my men and the exposure of my station on.”

“The alternative being that you don’t have any men.”

Chevek’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me what you know before I stop listening.”

“Do you remember the explosion in the southern rim?”

“Your doing. Word travels fast.”

“It will happen to every plate the moment we cross the ridge into Steila. Unless you think you can do something about it.”

Something shifted in Chevek’s face. Then his demeanor changed entirely. Kretch. Of course he didn’t believe Niklaus.

“Sounds like you have your own agenda,” Chevek said abruptly and dismissively.

“You want to help the mute, this is the only way you—”

“Meyernes.” Chevek fisted the front of Niklaus’s tunic and pulled him close to whisper. “Trust me when I say it’s not safe for you to talk about this here and now, when I’ve been conscripted to talk to you about something else, here and now. Let’s discuss. Two hours. I’ll search for you on the southern rim. I swear it.”

Chevek shoved him away and veered toward the western quarter. The shadows of two others slipped out from behind wagons to either side of the mess tent to fall into step behind him.

Heartbeat thrashing, Niklaus slowly tidied his station, and emptied his wash bins, wondering who might have conscripted Chevek to speak with him about Calver. Covern Balfida? The Ruxian? Mastico? Only one answer seemed probable: General Prime Thyatira.

He started toward the mess wagon to put away the day’s trays. He nearly expected to see an orange glow around the door. To sit and debate something stupid with Dex after he finished putting everything away, while Calver worked silently beside them.

But they were gone.

Niklaus finished loading the countless trays and utensils into the wagon. He closed the door. He even locked it, before moving toward the southern rim to wait for Chevek to hear his case.

Maybe working with Chevek would make amends. Maybe…

Too late, Niklaus registered the whistling of air behind him, the sound of shifting sand. Arms wrapped around his torso from his rear. A hand stuffed a rag into his mouth, stifling him before he even thought to scream. A black sack slid over his head and cinched around his neck. His arms were forced behind him and a set of cold metal bracers clinked around his wrists.

Of course. An ambush.

A deep rasp was hot in his ear. “Cooperate and this will be easy. Resist, and you’re going to fucking hurt.”

Niklaus had always imagined he would be brave, should his life be threatened. He was not. His whole body locked up with throat-occluding terror. Sucking oxygen through suddenly too-small nostrils, he nodded.

Multiple sets of hands lifted him. His body collided with the hard wooden floor of what must have been a wagon. It silently moved across the gritty sand, turning one way then the next until Niklaus had no idea whether he was still in the encampment or halfway across the sands. After agonizing minutes, the wagon came to a stop. Its door creaked open, and someone jostled him to stand.