Page 195 of The Space Between Stars

“We were attacked.” The man spoke between savage bites. His chewing struck Niklaus as unreasonably loud. “A few thousand Tera’thians. Small, fierce fighting force. We weren’t ready. They took everyone—my daughter. Her children. I ran. I don’t think anyone else made it out.”

Yellow eyes waited on Niklaus for judgement. Niklaus cast none. “Took them where?”

“A warehouse. Southernmost on the dock. Well guarded.” The refugee licked the base of Niklaus’s ration tin clean. He upturned the empty waterskin over his mouth again, squeezing only stale air out. “Is there more?”

“No.”

“Why?” Not why wasn’t there more. Why had Niklaus given it to him?

The man had been starving.

“Why anything? I did it. Now here we are.”

Silence.

Then, “Will you still go to Steila?”

“Yes.”

“There’s a stairway. In the rock. I’ll show you. Follow that, you can get into the city by sundown.”

“Will you join me? To go after your daughter?”

Silence again.

Then, “No.”

Not every man got to pick the moment that defined him. Life’s moments were infinite as pebbles on a beach. Sometimes Fate picked one up indiscriminately and threw it into the sea.

FORTY-FOUR

FANKALO

Year: 748 Post Cataclysm: Present Day (The First Day of Spring)

Location: Casowhatan Sea

Fankalo rubbed the soft scrap of paper Killari had delivered between her forefinger and thumb. She leaned against the Rogue’s Rapture’s starboard rail in an attempt to ease the ache in her leg. Even weeks later, it had yet to regain feeling in some places, yet throbbed in others. The medic had told her this morning the tissue damage might never be reversed, but she was a veteran to ill news by now.

Calver’s letter was just another fracture.

Her Luck detected Mitek, leaning against the mast behind her, returned from Thaligan where she’d sent him to do reconnaissance and collect Calver. He’d been lurking for at least a minute, watching her, probably deciding how to approach. He’d treated her like something fragile since the Tera’thian assault, now three days past. And it was no wonder—she’d been acting like something fragile.

Fankalo gave the note a final glance before opening her fingers: a motion so small to let something so large flutter down into the waves, where it would disintegrate as the ocean licked its ink. She watched the water where it fell as Mitek finally got up the gall to stride to her side.

He reached for her shoulder, then retracted his hand before it landed. “Ay, Bratty.” Like everything was normal. Like they still had the world at their mercy. Like he might not be the one who’d set her up. “No word on the Reaper. Anchor’s still set. Do you want keep holding the Rapture for when he makes it out of the Jiradesh, or—”

“I’ve gotten word. Calver has expressed his wish to continue towards Steila.”

Mitek’s eyebrows nearly left his face. “Didn’t you tell him that—?” He faltered at her expression.

She slid her tongue over her teeth. “I can’t.” Telling someone they did, in fact, have a son with indefinite powers—with which Cul’Mon planned to wipe them into extinction—was not something done in a letter. Especially considering she’d always known it was a possibility. “If I had to take a guess, Cul’Mon won’t reveal his Ruxian weapon in Steila, anyway. Not unless he’s backed against a wall.”

It was a dangerous wager, made worse knowing that it wasn’t her life she was betting. She steeled herself. She couldn’t add this to her fast-growing list of problems. Calver had chosen to take on Cul’Mon over coming to meet her. She hadn’t even begun to assess how scrapped they were if they lost him. But it wouldn’t be as bad as if Mitek was right, and Calver was setting them up in Steila.

“What are you going to do?” Mitek asked it like he expected her to say that they would advance forward to ally Calver. That they would aid the Red Wing against the Tera’thian assault, even though it was about to be blown into the sky by distortion explosives or a Ruxian, whichever came first. That they would risk Cul’Mon capturing her, too. That they would risk outing their numbers to the Nelfinden oligarchy in the process.

No.