She was back in Atropos's rooms before he returned.

"I gather that you saw everything that happened?" he asked as he landed, closing the curtain behind him. She nodded.

"Will that centaur, Ixion, survive?" she asked.

"He will be good as new before the day is out," Atropos assured her. "His species is very resilient, and our medical technology is second to none. As for Vespula, they regularly lose their stingers in their prey. They will regrow it in a few weeks. Nothing hurt but their pride."

"And Actian?" Amber asked more cautiously.

Atropos's expression soured, lined with guilt and worry.

"You saw," he said. "He will proceed with the auction. He is more certain than ever that this is the best course for us."

Amber looked away, troubled. Because in a way, Actian was right. This was the best course for the Lepidopterix. The humans were merely collateral damage.

"We must free the other humans," Atropos said, startling Amber out of her thoughts. "Tonight, if we can."

"Are you sure?" Amber asked, stepping closer to reach for him. He frowned at her, confusion in his eyes. He had expected her to be more certain than he was. But Amber felt as though she were standing on sand, the foundation of self-righteous justice she'd thought she stood on sliding away.

"I mean, he's right," Amber said, looking away. "He is just trying to save all of you. And he's your brother. I'm asking you to do something that might drive your species extinct. Hell, if it pisses off those aliens enough, it might cause a war."

Atropos touched her chin, lifting it to make her face him.

"He is my brother," Atropos replied gently. "And he is right that our ways must change. But not this way. If I allowed this to happen, I would no longer be myself. I would no longer deserve the future he wants for us. We will find another way."

Amber smiled at him, touched the hand on her cheek, and pulled him down to kiss her.

"But first," she said when they parted, "we have to get those people out."

"Tonight," he promised. "They will have increased the security."

"Then we'll just have to be more careful, “Amber said. "I doubt they will believe it was a computer error this time."

* * *

They spent a few frantic hours putting together the best plan they could. There wasn't time for anything complicated. Before long, Amber was plotting a route down to the abandoned sections of the ship to the vault where Actian was keeping the humans for the auction.

They made their way through the dusty halls of the unused labs and offices in tense, anxious silence, both knowing how dire this situation was and how woefully unprepared for it they were. They could not even know what changes Actian had made to security.

As they neared the place where they'd entered the vault before, they slowed down, nerves making them overly cautious.

"Look, the dust," Amber pointed out in a tense whisper. Where there had once been clear footprints, now the dust on the floor was gone entirely, and the lights no longer flickered. People, and a good number of them, had been through here recently. Atropos gave her a worried look and they hurried on.

The door was locked this time, but Atropos opened it with a few taps on a hovering screen.

"Won't that leave a record?" Amber asked as he did it. "Won't the computer be able to tell them you were here?"

Atropos looked at her in confusion.

"Why would it be able to do that?" he asked. Amber wasn't sure how to answer. Maybe that was something they'd lost over the generations. Or maybe tracking everyone's computer usage was a human thing.

They slipped into the vault without trouble. Amber felt painfully tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop. They had to be missing something.

"Erin," she whispered, forgetting her distress as she saw her friend, hanging in the air exactly as she had been the last time.

"Hurry," Atropos urged her on, his antenna high and twitching. "There are others in here, guards. We don't have much time."

Amber left Erin behind reluctantly, following Atropos as they rushed toward the control podium. Amber took over, searching for the protocols to send the hosts back. She frowned, hands beginning to shake, as the computer threw up denial after polite, chiming denial.

"It's locking me out," she whispered. "It won't let me change anything!"

"Let me try," Atropos said, but though she stepped aside, he made no more headway than her. "Actian has changed all the security requirements. I think I can still get past them, but I need—"

"Someone's coming," Amber said, her hair standing on end as she heard footsteps approaching.

"Run." Atropos pushed her away. "Back into the halls! I'll distract them."

There was no time to argue. Atropos could likely get away with being down here, but not her. She ducked back into the hidden passageway, only to hear others approaching from the direction they'd arrived in. More guards, talking idly to themselves. She hurried in the opposite direction, her heart hammering, and kept running until, out of breath and shaking, she collapsed against the wall of a hallway much nearer the center.

This one was still used, and fairly often. In her research, she'd learned not all the Lepidopterix had their rooms in the center sphere. Some were kept back here. The dull, out of sight and unobtrusive as ever, had their homes in these tunnels. It was a broad, street-like corridor lined with marked doors. Some had small plants and flowers growing around them, but overall, it felt far more utilitarian than the lush elegance of the center sphere. Like the dull themselves, it was plain.

There were a few of those in the hall as she looked up, catching her breath, but they quickly looked away and hurried on when she met their eyes. She was fairly certain they wouldn't tell anyone they'd seen her. They didn't want trouble. She stayed where she was, waiting for the shaking to stop.

Had Atropos managed to finish the job? She hadn't heard any alarms. But she was sure he must have gotten away. They'd meet back up in his room and try again now that they knew more.

She had almost recovered when she heard a familiar voice.

"Are you lost, little thing?"

She looked up, tensing like a hare about to sprint as she saw Captain Ixion approaching her. He looked no worse the wear for his nearly dying earlier.

"Where is that big, ferocious protector of yours?" he asked, looking around as though he expected Atropos to be hiding behind a corner. "You aren't out here alone, are you?"

"He's close," Amber said at once, watching the stranger warily as he came closer. "He'll be here in just a minute."

"Oh, so you can speak!" Ixion said with a pleased chuckle, still moving toward her with the unhurried persistence of something predatory. "And you can lie too. How clever."

Amber backed up closer to the wall, considering asking the computer to open a passageway.

“I’m glad you recovered so quickly from what happened earlier,” she said, playing for time. Atropos might not be far behind her. “I was worried you would die.”

“Oh, you saw that dreadful business?” Ixion clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “How sweet you are to worry for me. But one does not enter negotiations with a Hymenoptera without expecting to be stung. I’ve tasted that poison a dozen times at least. Potent stuff, and quite remarkably painful, but easily countered. I was not afraid. Were you, little pet?”

“Of course,” Amber replied, feeling her way along the wall behind her for a good place to open a door. “I didn’t want to see anyone die.”

“I would very much like to see you afraid,” Ixion remarked, his tone just as calm and genial as ever. His eyes were intense, pinning her in place like a butterfly to a collector’s board.

“W–what are you doing down here?” Amber asked, her heart racing, looking past him at the corridor in hopes of spotting help, or at least somewhere to run. The place seemed deserted. Ixion was uncomfortably close to her, all but trapping her against the wall.

“Well, after my spill earlier today, I thought some recreation was in order,” Ixion answered, joviality incongruous with the glint in his eye. “I had planned to take advantage of one or two of these quaint little moths. After all, they were so very accommodating of the Immortal’s entertainment the other night. But they hardly hold a candle to the novelty of one such as yourself.”

He moved so swiftly Amber had no time to react before he had her arm in a painfully tight grip. He yanked her closer, peering at her hand and ignoring her surprised cry, which became a scream as, a second later and with no apparent effort, he broke her wrist.

“Such delicate bones,” Ixion said with a pleased chuckle. “I had a feeling you would break easily. The sound is a bit shrill though. Perhaps a gag until you’re better trained.”

Amber could hardly process what he was saying over the pain, white-hot and electric, and her own screams. She’d never broken a bone before, never felt a pain like this in her life. Her vision swam and she thought she might faint. She welcomed it as an escape from the terror of this situation. Instead, Ixion slapped her cheek, shaking her back to alertness.

“Come now, we’ve only just begun,” he chided. “Actian claims your species are quite . . . flexible. I’m looking forward to seeing just how much you can take.”

He licked his lips, his tongue long and obscene, and Amber was suddenly certain she had much more to fear than mere broken bones.

"Captain!"

Ixion looked up with a frown of mild irritation, and Amber looked past him with relief to where Atropos stood, breathing heavily. Two moths stood near him, looking uneasy. Atropos strode toward the centaur, his eyes black with anger and his wings rattling threateningly.

"I believe we have already established that human is spoken for," he hissed, rage barely contained.

"Oh, is this one yours?" Ixion said, unperturbed. "I saw it wandering on its own and assumed it was a stray. My mistake, friend."

He shoved Amber toward Atropos, and she stumbled into his arms, clutching her swollen, throbbing wrist. She was embarrassed of the tears on her face, the way she sobbed and clung to him, but she was too shaken to stop. Atropos put an arm around her, shielding her with a wing.

"Make that mistake again and no number of allegiances will save you," Atropos threatened openly. Ixion's smile turned cool and mocking.

"Is that so, friend?" he spoke softly, but Amber shuddered at the sound of his voice regardless. "A bit of old Foloi advice for you. Don't make threats you don't intend to keep."

"If it is advice we are offering," Atropos said, teeth bared, "I would advise you not to underestimate me."

"That is no empty threat, Captain."

Actian had appeared from what seemed to be nowhere. The two moths shrank back warily, and Captain Ixion drew himself up a little more stiffly, looking concerned for the first time. He had seen Actian take Vespula apart. Amber imagined he was in no hurry to have that demonstrated on him as well.

"Atropos is the strongest and most experienced warrior in our flight," Actian said, his tone conversational. "Possibly even stronger than me."

He came to stand beside Atropos, casting his brother a smile.

"I cannot say for certain, as he always holds back when we spar."

Atropos, beginning to cool his anger, bowed his head to the flight leader.

"I could never risk hurting you, brother."

"A simple misunderstanding, flight leader," Ixion said with a disarming smile. "Your brother should keep better track of his property. Anything could happen to a pretty pet like that wandering on its own."

"Yes, as anything might happen to a stranger on a strange ship, wandering in the wrong corridors," Actian said, the warning implicit. "I think you'll find the suite we prepared for you far more comfortable, and far safer, than these out of the way halls."

"Perhaps you're right," Ixion said with a tense smile. "It's become a bit crowded here for my tastes."

"Please go on ahead," Actian said, answering Ixion's smile with one of his own. "I will see you back once I've spoken to my brother."

Ixion hesitated for a moment, then inclined his head briefly to Actian and swept past them, surprisingly silent despite his size. Amber shuddered in relief, huddling close to Atropos, still dazed by the pain she was in.

"You should get it to the infirmary," Actian said, hearing her pained whimpers. "What was it doing down here alone anyway?"

"A walk," Atropos lied. "I thought she would be fine somewhere so out of the way. I only stepped away for a moment."

"You should not have taken it out of your rooms," Actian scolded, keeping his voice down. "You know the danger it could cause! Do not let it out again."

He hurried away, leaving the two of them alone. Atropos waited a moment till he was out of earshot before he turned to the two moths still lingering nearby.

"Thank you for finding me," he said. "I owe you a great deal."

"That moth the Immortal attacked is my mate's clutch brother," one of the moths said, their wings rustling nervously. "If the human hadn't stopped it, he might have lost his wings."

"We would have been monsters not to help either way," said the other. "And you have always been kind to us dull ones."

"Regardless, I am in your debt," Atropos said, bowing as much as he could without letting go of Amber.

"Thank you," Amber whispered through her tears, and Atropos hurried her away toward the infirmary.