Parker’s ship was larger than the Vicious, sleeker, and much more modern. The smell of fresh paint followed us deeper into its halls, the marble-looking floor springing underneath with each quick step. Poh aimed the Mind-I at the wall to watch our progress on this ship’s map. Two red dots drew closer to another—the pilot, the only other soul here. It didn’t take long to find which doors led to the cockpit, or bridge on fancy ships, especially since Bridge was stamped on the door in freshly painted, centered letters.

Poh lifted her fist, her gun gripped tight in her other hand, and slammed the door open.

The pilot whirled around from his position in front of the starlit expanse outside the window screen. He wore a blue handkerchief to hold his long, dark hair back from his face, and his scraggly, short beard crawled down the front of his high-collared shirt, which was decorated with a picture of white and blue lightning shaped into a sexual pose. She and He. His eyes crackled incessantly with the white drug, so much so that I couldn’t discern his true eye color.

“What the fuck? Who are you?” he asked.

Poh jumped down the few steps toward him and aimed her gun right at his dick. “To Ring Guild Station 144. Now.”

I locked my gaze on the bottom of the window screen behind him. Half of one side of the Vicious hung there, so close and at the same time a million miles away. My gut clamped in on itself as I stared, wishing I could see into its depths and know what was happening there.

“But—” the pilot started.

“You board our ship. We board yours,” Poh said and clicked her safety off. “Now do what I told you, or I’ll shoot your precious off. We clear?”

He glanced at me and shook his head. “You’re crazy. I can’t just leave my captain.”

We had no time for this kind of nonsense. I pulled one ice pick off the necklace and lunged, scraping it up under his jaw hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. My face reflected in his lit eyes, murderous and horrifying even to me.

“I’m in no mood for whining or loyalty to someone like Parker,” I snarled. “You need to think critically about your next step here. There’s a gun pointed at your dick, and I chop things up in my spare time for the hell of it. It’s a lose-lose, unless you get us out of here right. Now.”

The guy's hands flew into the air. “Okay! Okay. I'll take you where you want to go, just...point that thing somewhere else.” His gaze wobbled to Poh’s gun. “And that thing, too. All the things. Please.”

We dropped our weapons to our side and stepped away, though we watched him as warily as he did us.

His hands flashed over buttons and levers, and the ship's engines rumbled with just a slight purr. Out the window screen, we separated from the Vicious, slinking away from my ship family I hoped I would see again, alive, whole, very soon.

“Step on it, hoss,” Poh warned. She stood behind his pilot’s seat, her gun casually aimed at the back of his head, as she tapped her feet to a beat I couldn't hear.

I was glad someone was having a good time. She appeared to be totally in her element kidnapping a ship and its pilot.

Too wired to sit, I searched the stars to ease my fears. Hunger gnawed at my belly, a ferocious bite that hurt so much it made my head spin. But I didn’t care. I wouldn’t care until I was aboard the Vicious again, until I knew that everyone was safe, until they could eat again, too.

“What’s your name, pilot?” Poh barked.

After several seconds, he muttered, “It’s Crispin.”

“Crispy, is your foot pressed to the go pedal as hard as it’s able?” she asked.

“It’s Crispin, and yes, it is.”

“A bullet to the back of your head says it’s not.” She cocked her gun again and squinted at her target. “Crispy.”

He ducked low in his seat, pressed more buttons so more of them blinked, and an almost imperceptible rumble shifted under my feet.

Seeming satisfied, Poh flicked her yellow gaze to me. “You’re tilting.”

“What?”

“You look like you’re about to pass out. Sit. I’ll find you some food and water.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

“Then the food and water isn’t for you.” She pointed a meaningful look at my midsection. “Sit. I’ll be right back.”

“Uh, hey,” Crispin said, throwing her a cautious glance. “You mind getting me—?”

“Yes,” she barked and marched up the stairs past me toward the door.

As soon as she was gone, Crispin turned until he spotted me in his She-filled gaze. “Um, can I know why we’re going to Ring Guild Space Station 144?”

I sank down to the first step, feeling like I was folding in on myself from the crushing weight on my shoulders. “Just trying to save humanity, is all.”

He nodded as if that explained everything. “Did the Ringers not let you back through the rings or…?”

“No.” A sudden thought leaped into my head, one that swamped me with guilt for even thinking it. I could never leave my Vicious family totally behind. Still, my curiosity burned. “Would they let this ship through, do you think?”

“Mmm, doubtful since they’ve waged a war against letting drugs through to Mayvel and Wix. They say it’s a taint on the universe we were so blessed with. Their words.”

What a load of holier-than-thou what-the-fuckery. The Ringers’ taint on the “blessed” universe had destroyed Earth and billions of lives. They had zero room to talk about what was tainted and what wasn’t.

“Rusted hypocrites,” I muttered.

“You sure you want to save humanity?” he asked.

“Not everyone is an asshole,” I said, shrugging. “Some people do good without even trying, though there’s only like ten of those.”

“Then those ten might be good enough reason.”

I frowned at the pilot-turned-philosopher, who spun back toward the controls, a touch of color on his bearded cheeks.

“Have I seen you around somewhere?” His lightning gaze flitted to mine in the reflection of the window screen. “You look familiar.”

I sighed down into my lap, weighing the risk of whether to tell him the truth or not, while I scratched absently at my broken, gloved hand. Since we were on course for Poh to “turn me in,” I supposed it didn’t matter.

“No, I remember now,” he said. “There’s people who look just like you all over deep space. They keep winding up missing. Or dead. I don’t know why because I only looked at the pictures, but…does your humanity-saving have anything to do with that?”

“Yeah. It does.” I didn’t say anything more so I wouldn’t put his life in danger like I had a habit of doing. The less he knew, the better probably. Besides, other than his initial stupidity, he seemed like an okay guy.

I dug my fingernails into the glove’s fabric and scratched harder, then stopped and stared at it, my heart thudding between my ears. The last time I’d been all itchy, I’d grown scales. Pushing my lips together, I peeled the glove back for a peek. Gray scales curved up the base of my thumb and across my knuckles, but I snapped the fabric back before I could see more. Unease shot through me, but I forced it to the back of my head. Now was not the time to freak out. At least it didn’t hurt. I flexed just to be sure. Nothing, not even pain from my broken bones.

Poh charged back onto the bridge then, her arms loaded with breads, a basket of fruit and sliced meats, and a jug of bluish liquid. I blanked my face of all my worries as she set it down next to me.

“You should go see the kitchen.” Her yellow eyes held to my face until I met her gaze. “Seriously.”

I shook my head and eyed the stars streaking past the ship. “Not until this is done.”

Shrugging, she stepped down the stairs and circled around the side of Crispin’s chair. “Did you miss me, Crispy?”

“Umm.” He did a double take up at her. “I don’t know how you want me to answer that.”

She patted his head. “Good boy.”

“What about you? Did you find any titanium?” I asked.

“I figure I’ll live for a little while. You do you and…” She ticked her gaze to my midsection and nodded.

I didn’t quite know what to make of Poh when she flashed her protective side, which admittedly she’d showed quite a lot since day one. Especially toward me. It was an odd characteristic for an assassin hired to kill me. Still, I didn’t trust her, even now. Lately I had severe trust issues with strangers. Rusted balls, I didn’t trust myself most days.

Before I ripped into the food, I threw a loaf of bread into Crispin’s lap, which earned me a disappointed twist to Poh’s mouth. Apparently my kidnapping skills could use less empathy. Then I dived head-first into the sliced meats and fruit. My stomach clamped up as soon as the first bite of food hit it, but I plowed through anyway. The jug of bluish liquid danced sugary feet over my tongue, and I drank and ate my fill until my stomach swelled over the button on my leather pants.

I blinked at it, at the way my breaths pushed my belly up even more. As I slid my hand over it, I swallowed back a rise of panic. Ellison said I was fine. If my theory about the ghosts still inside me was correct, Red would be fierce in her protectiveness, too, as she always had been. Of course, I needed to protect myself as well, and today wasn’t the best example of that. But how was I supposed to do what needed to be done while pregnant? If I’d been put here for a purpose, then why put one more roadblock in my way to achieving it?

No, the baby—my baby—wasn’t a roadblock. I couldn’t think like that. She or he hadn’t asked for any of this. I would deal, like I always did, and fail spectacularly a large chunk of the time. But I prayed to Feozva that I might succeed a little bit, just this once, so I might live to give my baby a fighting chance.

Poh crossed toward me and leaned against the stair railing, keeping Crispin in her sights. “Have you told your pretty boy yet?”

I shook my head at my feet. “There are a lot of things I haven’t told him yet.”

She gazed out at the starlight streaking by us, her expression as far away as the Vicious, her voice low enough for only me to hear. “There’s a man named Don Summertack at the space station. He’s the director of ring operations and our kidnap target to get us through the rings.”

“You know him?” I asked.

Her jaw muscles tightened as if she were cracking down on titanium. “He knew my husband.”

It was such an unexpected thing to hear her say, yet I couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. Why wouldn’t she have a husband? Sure, she was a rough-around-the-edges assassin, but assassins needed love too.

“My husband was a ship engineer, taught me everything I know,” she said. “We had a child together.”

My heart sank at all of these past tense verbs. Crispin eyed her in the window reflection, thankfully silent.

“My husband did maintenance on Summertack’s private ship. He never said anything, but I think he found out the truth about the Ringers. Because soon after, our cruiser crashed because of a faulty wire.” She pinned me with her yellow eyes, her gaze a lethal blade, her words twice as sharp. “My family was so much more than a faulty wire.”

Oh my Feozva. What else were the Ringers capable of? What would they do to us when we waltzed in there and began making demands of them?

“The only side I’m on is against the Ringers,” she continued. “And yours. Whatever it takes.”

Whatever it takes. That was a lofty promise, and I knew I wasn't worthy enough to earn it. I was a fugitive after all, an iron addicted thief and a so-called murderer who didn't give Christmas presents and thought more than was probably healthy about all the things I could stab with two ice picks. But that wouldn't mean I wouldn’t try to earn Poh’s promise.

“Don Summertack,” I repeated, storing the name away in case I changed my ways and did get murdery.

My thoughts eventually carried me into a light doze that turned into fitful dreams. Random letters appeared in red walls that waved back and forth like flags, making it impossible to pick out the words. But when my sick mind flashed images of Ellison, Mase, and Captain Glenn’s knifed-out eyes brimming with She electricity, I lashed out, screaming.

“Jesus! What’s wrong with her?” Crispin shouted.

Poh towered over me, one side of her brown duster swept behind her hip for easy access to her gun, her unspoken questions needling my scalp.

My whole body trembling, I fought back a surge of everything I’d eaten back down my throat. They weren’t dead. They weren’t. My Vicious family could take care of themselves, and I’d be reunited with them as soon as this was over.

I lifted my hand to ward off Poh, and thankfully she took the hint. She stepped away a few feet, but I could still feel her gaze, heavy on my sweat-slicked, haunted head. I wanted to ask who she’d intended to shoot seconds ago when I’d flipped out, but I didn’t trust my mouth to open without a spray of vomit. So I kept my gaze locked on the window screen with my cheek glued to the cool, rubbery floor on the stairs.

Soon, a large space station appeared. Ships of all shapes and sizes zipped in and out of the rows of docking ports along the station’s middle, leaving or arriving for anything from repairs to food to club dancing supposedly. Ring Guild Space Station 144 was a floating city in the sky.

Behind it rotated a thin outline of an enormous iron ring.

My blood leaped through my veins faster and harder as if the parasites swimming through it could sense all that iron. Saliva flooded my mouth. My insides jumped, but the need for more, a whole iron ring more, broke me out in yet another cold sweat. Selfish, needy things, those parasites. I ran my clammy palms down my pocket where my iron cubes should’ve been. I’d dropped my one piece of iron on the Vicious when Poh had escorted me out.

I dragged myself to my feet as we drew closer. “What do we do with Crispin?”

Poh ruffled his hair. “Crispy goes where we go, and if it gets him killed, well... Try not to do or say anything that will get you killed. We’ll still need a pilot for when we’re done.”

“I can stay here,” Crispin argued, his voice panicked. “There’s police all over that station, and I may have a bit of a record. You can tie me up. Or don’t. I won’t go anywhere.”

“But you’re my bestie, Crispy.” Poh offered a wistful smile and thumbed his bearded chin. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, which is why you’re coming with us.”

“No.” He shook his head so hard, the She/He lightning couple on his shirt bounced together. “This is a bad, bad idea.”

She winked at him, then flicked her thumb so it knocked his head back against his seat. “Ours is a complicated friendship. Just land the ship, Crispy, because my trigger finger is getting itchy.”

Crispin’s reflection in the window screen drained of all hope as the ship slowed, then gradually drifted toward one of the numerous empty docking ports. Other ships sailed close, likely bustling with activity and everyday life. If only they knew how lucky they were.

Crispin expertly maneuvered the ship into the port, and the silent landing gear guided us to a slow stop with only a slight vibration through the floor.

I took a deep breath and gathered all my courage into my clammy, scaled fists. This was it. Ready or not. How hard could a kidnapping be?

“Door’s open,” Crispin said, flipping a few switches.

“Let’s go, then.” Poh waited for him to move first and followed him up the steps to the door. “Do or say anything I don’t like, Crispy, and you’ll be braiding your pubes over the hole where your dick used to be.”

He clamped his mouth shut and led the way out. My stomach primed for maximum spewage with that image, I strode after them, but stopped when Poh dropped her gun and Mind-I just inside the door.

“They don’t allow much through security here,” she murmured over her shoulder. “Including weapons and loose Mind-Is.”

I squeezed my ice pick necklaces, hesitating, then lifted them both off and set them next to her gun. As soon as Mase’s left my fingers, I feared I would never see it, or Mase, again, as if they were one and the same.

Down an elevator and through a maze of hallways that all looked alike, the ship’s exit soon yawned open. My footsteps vibrated down the ramp, echoing all my doubts about this plan through my skull and sinking them in deeper. My next breath snagged in my throat with a taste like blood on the back of my tongue. I stopped, swallowing thickly.

Our ship was the only one in the small docking port. Pristine, shiny white colored the walls, floor, and ceiling, and in the corner, a squat robot shaped like a thumb swept up trash by rolling over it. It blended with the room since it was the same color, as if it was meant to be overlooked.

In the opposite corner, Crispin pushed open a door that I supposed led into the space station. Poh pulled it closed again, though, and tossed a glare over her shoulder at me.

“Any slower and you would be dead, Absidy,” she said. “This won’t work unless you do your part as my prisoner.”

“I know.” I forced myself onward, scratching the scales under my glove.

Halfway toward the door, an overwhelming cloud of tobacco smoke enveloped my senses, thick though I couldn’t see it.

“Red?” I whispered. Was that her or something else? “Do you smell that? Tobacco?”

Poh took a step toward me, her yellow eyes sharp. “No… Why?”

I didn’t know, but that was Red’s signature scent. What was she trying to tell me? A warning, likely. To stay away? But it was too late for that.

With a deep breath, I started forward again, ignoring the unease that swamped my gut. The door opened into an expansive hallway painted the same blinding white color as the docking port with more invisible robots scouring the already spotless floor. Along the wall at our backs, more doors led into what I supposed were more docks, and straight ahead, a young man in a blue uniform stood next to a narrow archway.

A metal detector.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said as we drew closer, his gaze raking over all my iron parts.

“No shitting required, I hope.” Poh nodded at me. “She goes through first.”

“I-I don’t even know where to start. You’ve got chains in your hair, and…I can’t ask you to take your shirt off.” He blinked down at my girls spilling over the top of my corset, and his jaw slackened to zombie mode. “Can I?”

I whipped my hand out under his chin and nudged his head back up, much like Ellison had done to Mase when he’d first seen me wearing my corset. My heart splintered at the thought, but I squashed it back down and slivered my eyes into daggers.

“I’m not taking anything off,” I said through gritted teeth.

Poh shouldered between us, patting the guard on the chest so he’d back up, and throwing me a secret smile before she turned back to him. “Yeah, better cool it there, hoss. She’ll bite out your tongue if you wag it too close. I reckon do what you always do, knowing that she’ll send your alarms into a tizzy.”

He gave a sharp nod, smoothed his uniform shirt, and pointed at a plastic tray next to the metal detector. “Everything in your pockets and any weapons go in there. Nothing goes into the station except currency cards. You’ll get everything back when you leave.”

I didn’t have anything in my pockets, and I’d left my ice picks on Parker’s ship. The only thing I carried was the vial of consumectalons wedged down the front of my corset. As long as he didn’t frisk me—and he wouldn’t—I would pretend to forget about that vial.

“I don’t have anything,” I said.

The guard swept an electronic wand over me that beeped the entire time. Then he sent me through the metal detector which—gasp—triggered the alarm.

He made it stop and then turned to Poh. She motioned for him to do his things with the electronic wand, which also beeped the entire time he scanned her. Whatever else she was packing didn’t appear to be inside her pockets, though, since they were empty.

The guard ushered her and Crispin through the rest of these time-wasters, and then we were on our way again. At the end of the hallway were several double doors, none of which opened or closed. I glanced behind us, but only the guard, now facing away from us, and the cleaning bots joined us in here. We were alone, despite this place brimming with travelers. I rubbed absently at my bandaged, scaled arm, ticking my gaze around the hallway for any sign of life.

As we drew within fifteen feet of the doors, darkness seemed to swallow the color from the shiny white walls to a dull gray. The tobacco smell grew stronger, erupting a burn through my nostrils as if I were breathing it in. I glanced up at the lights on the ceiling, and then at Poh and Crispin, who appeared not to notice the hallway shrink to just us.

Darker and darker until midnight choked everything out of existence. I crumpled to the ground, all of my oxygen fleeing. Something was wronger than wrong with this place. That fact sat on my chest and leaked tears down my cheeks. It chased cold over my skin and plumed my tobacco-laced, staggered gasps into the air.

“What’s wrong with you? Get up.”

Poh’s voice, a growl, but it was too dark to see her. Then with a pale spotlight, she appeared kneeling over me, her fingers digging into my shoulders and shaking me.

I dragged in a breath. “We have to go back.”

“No, fuck that.” She scowled, her terrifying mix of scales and fangs catching the light. “We go forward.”

I shook my head. She didn’t understand my meaning, but I couldn’t get enough air to set her straight. We needed to go back for my iron. This place… It didn’t feel right. Not at all. Something was here. Something dark, sinister, and laced with the metallic tang of blood that completely buried Red’s tobacco.

“No, Poh.” My words caught on the chilled air.

She watched them curl off my lips as understanding dawned, and she released me to shove at the doors. But somehow when the light had faded, we’d passed through them to the other side. We were inside the space station now with the sounds of bustling activity slowly funneling to my ears as if through dense cotton.

None of the doors budged as Poh pushed and pulled. Even Crispin tried, his lightning eyes pinched at the corners. I scuttled on my hands and knees across the floor toward one and flattened my back against it, my panic threatening to cave me in, and shifted my gaze to the space station.

One wide hallway stretched in front of me, and another branched to the left. People of all ages rushed past us, bundling themselves tighter into their coats, their breaths steaming from their mouths, yet otherwise oblivious to the cold. Signs and arrows lit the gleaming white floor, guiding some into little shops tucked along the wall, to food stands with brightly colored umbrellas, or to a merry-go-round that chirped happy music at the far end of the hallway.

The high ceiling soared above, and seemingly suspended in midair were large iron rings hung equal distances apart down the length of the long, upward-slanted hallway to the left. At the end and through the large window was the real iron ring. The rings over our heads must’ve been slightly different sizes for forced perception, making the real ring appear much closer than it really was, as if it were bending space right this second. The whole optical illusion simultaneously made me want to hurl my tongue at the ring hanging above our heads and spun my stomach, so I looked away.

Other than the crowd’s cold exhales, everything appeared normal. But the smell of blood hung in the air, thick and heavy, and bristled under my skin. Something had happened here. Something awful. And whatever it had been still lingered.

An Information Desk sign shimmered along the floor in front of us.

“Let’s find out why these doors won’t open.” Poh helped haul me to my feet, grasped Crispin by the arm, and led us in the same direction as the arrows that glowed at our feet.

Behind a tall desk at the apex of the two hallways, a woman of about sixty stood, wearing a silver, tailored suit that matched her bobbed hair. She spoke to a man wearing a similar get-up and a bow tie. Behind them, a clear spiral staircase stretched up toward the rings, and winding up it was another bot that didn’t miss a step. At the top, it rolled across a grid of narrow platforms between the rings, all of them clear, I supposed, so they wouldn’t detract from the ring optical illusion.

Poh stalked us forward and slapped her hand hard on the desk to get the employees’ attention. They looked at her and frowned.

“Can we help you?” the man asked.

“Why won’t those doors open?” Poh jutted her thumb behind her.

Wrinkles fanned across the woman’s temples from the outer corners of her eyes even though she didn’t smile. “A temporary glitch.”

The man nodded toward the way we came. “The bots will get them working again in no time.”

We turned. Sure enough, the bots were rolling along the wall of doors. Red and blue lights pulsed from inside their thumb-shaped bodies, triggering my sense of emergency. Why wasn’t anyone else attempting to exit or complaining that the doors wouldn’t open?

I whipped around to face the desk again. “How long?”

“Not too long,” he said.

We were trapped, then. Minus my iron on a spotless, blood-tainted space station that housed something off enough to rattle my bones.

“Feel free to look around while you wait,” the woman said. “We have maps of the station if you’re looking for something specific. If you head left, you’ll find an excellent view of Station 144’s ring. It’s quite wondrous if you—”

“I want to turn her in.” Poh nodded toward me. “She’s a fugitive with a cash cow for a bounty, and I want to collect.”

My stomach twisted as I slowly turned my head to stare at her. She sold her part a little too well, blurring the line between what was real and what was all part of the plan.

The woman’s gaze slid to me, and her mouth pinched into a thin, judgmental line. “Police are to the left.”

“No, no.” Poh scooted in closer, dragging Crispin along behind her. “I have direct orders to turn this one in to someone from the Ring Guild. Don Summertack is his name. Director of ring operations. Just tell me where his office is, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Our superiors are busy doing their jobs.” The man shook his head. “They have no interest in fugitives.”

Pretty sure they did, though they likely didn’t share just how much with everyone.

“Police are to the left.” The woman started to turn away.

“I wasn’t asking,” Poh hissed. “Tell me where Don Summertack is.”

The man came around the tall desk and gazed down at Poh. “Police are to the left. Or I can call them for you to escort you away.”

Poh threw up one hand to stop him. “You’ve made your point.”

"Enjoy your stay on Station 144," the woman said, but judging from her clipped voice, I wasn't so sure she meant it.

Poh tugged at Crispin and led us a few feet away. “So it turns out police are to the left.”

“This is not good.” Crispin bounced his gaze around the station as if looking for an opportunity to bolt. “So not good. Do you know how many warrants are out for my arrest?”

“I wish I cared. I really do. Now, let’s go.” Poh pushed me left, but I dug in my heels and stared at the bots rolling among the doors.

“No,” I said. “We wait.”

She was shaking her head before I’d even finished. “You’re wearing metal, Absidy. Can’t you just stick a chain in your mouth? Aren’t they made of iron?”

“They’re alloys. Probably less than 10 percent iron.”

“So, yes? That still counts?”

“Yeah.” I glanced again at the bots, their blinking lights swirling my unease into a cyclone. “It still counts.”

“This won’t take long.” She led us left underneath the rings, through the throng of happy families, businesspeople in suits, and lone travelers clinging to their luggage. All of their gazes locked onto their destinations or on the marked path along the floor, their breaths curling from their lips.

Ahead, a large sign attached to the wall read Ring Guild Police in blue letters. My shoulders bunched around my ears. I balled my fists tight and cast a sideways glance at Poh. If she made a move toward it, I would run. I would rather take my chances trapped in a space station than go to the prison planet any day. Especially while pregnant. Especially while the fate of humanity hung in the balance.

We were almost upon the sign. A pair of glass doors underneath led inside. If an officer stood behind the doors and had been paying attention to the most-wanted list, they might see me, even if I did manage to slip away from Poh.

Rusted balls.

Five feet away.

Four.

My muscles clenched. My eyes bugged, searching for the slightest twitch from Poh. I angled one boot away. Just in case.

Three… Two.

She swept us past. My stomach cramped with shaky relief, and I allowed myself a slow exhale. Maybe one day I would learn to trust her. Today was not that day.

Near the middle of the hall, another sign read Administrative Offices over a frosted glass door. We headed toward it.

“Absidy,” Poh hissed, low so only I could hear. “You’re a fugitive. Your face has been plastered all over the news feeds.”

“These are both things I already know,” I hissed back.

“So why isn’t anyone looking at you?”

I stopped just before the frosted glass door that led to the administrative offices. She was right, and she wasn’t touching me to make me invisible, either. There I stood, decked out in my murderous garb, an astronomically high bounty on my head, and no one seemed to notice. Their eyes were aware, not programmed with a Mind-I glaze, unless everyone had theirs turned off. Or they were Saelis/human hybrids who were instructed to ignore me until given a signal or something. Or until I started bleeding out my parasites, which I had a tendency to do, though not by choice. Whatever the cause, it was as if my supposed crimes had been wiped from everyone’s memories. But why? The only person that would benefit was me, and I was through hoping for a little luck thrown my way.

“Uh, here’s another question.” Crispin tapped my shoulder and pointed at a bot rolling out from the administrative door. It headed in the same direction we were, hugging the wall, and streaking a bright red trail behind it across the gleaming floor. Blood. Thick tracks of it behind all four wheels. Impossible to miss “Why isn’t anyone looking at that?”

A teeth-cracking shudder ripped from my head to my toes. The metallic taste in the air fused with a burst of tobacco scent from within me, both of which stuck my lungs together with sludgy dread. That was Red, likely a warning that this was my last chance to turn back, away from…whatever had happened here.

But I did know what happened here. Oh my Feozva, I knew. Saelis. Here. This close to the ring and the rest of humanity they sought to destroy.

“Now we know where we have to go,” Poh muttered, then looked at me, her big yellow eyes mirroring my horror.

“Yeah, out of here.” Crispin swallowed. “Right now.”

I opened my mouth to agree with him because we couldn’t. We couldn’t do this up against the Saelis. Not the three of us. Not even a whole army. They’d already won if they were already here.

Yet even as I thought this, everyone I loved flashed in front of my eyes. I’d already come so far for them, and them alone. What was a few more steps? How was dying in a few moments at the hands of the Saelis any different than dying a little bit later when they brought about the end of the Black War? Either way, I was dead. My baby was dead. But if we died, my baby and I, we would go out fighting for one more day, together, and maybe save a slice of humanity in the process.

And maybe not. But I had to try.

I jerked my head in neither a nod nor a shake, spilling out a choking sound from the back of my throat. “We have to hurry.”

That was all I knew with absolute certainty.

Poh dragged Crispin forward, and like fools intent on winning an impossible war, we opened the door and followed the trail of blood.