“Deal.” Looking bashful, Harko returned to Kaido’s vessel and disappeared inside.
Now, it was time for the hard farewells.
“Don’t you dare die, do you hear me?” Angie warned, wrapping her arms around me. “If you do, I will hunt you down and kill you again, for putting me through all of this.”
“I second that,” Lauren murmured with a chuckle, the three of us standing there, hugging out our fears. I was reluctant to let go, but time was getting away from us.
“I promise I will do everything in my power to come back,” I said, pulling away. “But if I don’t, you take care of my baby girl, okay? Give her the life I would have wanted for her.”
Tears trickled down their faces. “I’ll be the best damn aunt any kid ever had,” Angie promised. “Me and Lauren will take care of her so freaking good that people will think we’re her real moms. She’ll be so spoiled it’ll make every other kid jealous.”
“I second that,” Lauren repeated, her voice choked.
They moved on to their goodbyes with the others as I made my way around those who were staying at the cabin. Kaido and Sarrask had come out to wave us off, and I could see that they were affected by the whole thing. Even Sarrask, who couldn’t hold onto much of his memory, seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. I leaned in to hug him, and his arms enveloped me.
“Be careful, Riley,” he pleaded.
“I will,” I swore.
“I’d try and kiss you again, but Navan would kill me,” he joked, wiping his eyes. “This was so much easier last time. You might not have been on Vysanthe anymore, but I knew you were safe, somehow. This time… well, this time it feels different.”
“I know, Sarrask.” I smiled at him. “We’re coming back. We all are.”
“I hope so.”
Kaido was next. He stiffened his shoulders and rigidly held out his arms like a robot. I wanted to laugh, but it was so sweet and unexpected that I couldn’t, in case he took it the wrong way. This was him, offering physical contact as a goodbye—a huge step for a guy like him. Grateful for the gesture, I stepped into his embrace, holding him for a moment as his arms remained locked outward.
“Although you seem to bring nothing but trouble, I will find your absence strange,” he said awkwardly. “I will continue to work on the serum for your mind, though the odds do not favor you in this mission. I may create it for nothing. I do not like risks or uncertainties in my work, and I do not appreciate waste. So, it would be most beneficial if you could return.”
I grinned, my heart gripping in my chest. “I’ll miss you, too. If I can make it back, I promise that I will.”
He sighed. “I would prefer a greater assurance, but I can see I am not going to get one. Your promise shall have to do for now, though I do not understand how you can make such a promise. Unless you are aware of some advantage that I do not know of?”
“Afraid not.”
“Hmm. I was concerned that might be the case.” He turned his gaze elsewhere, unable to hold mine. “I would like to offer some advice, if I may?”
“Go on.”
“Do not strive to be heroic in your actions. Whether in fiction or fact, heroes are often the ones who die first. The reasoning behind it, whether it be sacrifice or pride, does not matter—they die regardless, and there is no point in being honorable if you are dead.”
I nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good. Oh, and Riley?”
“Yes?”
“If it is not too much of an imposition, please, may you have the others return my ship to me in one piece? They appear to have commandeered it without my permission, forcing me to once again remove my plants. I would like it back.”
I snickered. “I’ll do what I can, Kaido. Sorry for letting them steal it without your say-so.”
“We can discuss the detriment of theft when you return.”
Taking a deep breath, I turned and walked toward the waiting Fed vessel. Seraphina was standing at the bottom of the gangway, Nova clutched in her arms. I’d left the box of sweetblood in the cabin and thanked my friend for taking care of my daughter, but the thought of leaving Nova behind was almost more than I could bear. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to take her into battle, but the bitter thought of our separation was all-consuming. Seraphina wore an expression of understanding, as though she could read my thoughts.
I took Nova from her, if only for a moment. “I love you, my sweet, sweet girl,” I whispered, tears falling from my eyes. “I would go through hell and back for you, to make this universe a better place for you to grow up in. I know you can’t understand me, but if I don’t come home, please know that I did everything for you… I did all of this, so you might have the hope of a brighter future.”
“She knows,” Seraphina murmured.
“I love you so much,” I sobbed, kissing her little face all over. “I love you so very, very much. I hope you know how deeply I love you. If I could stay, I would. I don’t want to say goodbye to you… I don’t want to… I don’t know what else to do. I love you, Nova. I love you.”
Seraphina placed her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry…”
“Take care of her as if she were your own,” I begged. “Let her know how much I love her, okay? Even if I’m only gone for a day, keep reminding her, keep telling her.”
“I will, Riley.”
“I love you so much,” I whispered, holding her close for one last cuddle. “Please know how much I love you. From the moment I knew you existed, I have adored you with all my heart. No matter what happens, that will never change.”
Feeling as though I was tearing my heart from my chest, I handed her back to Seraphina. My little girl’s huge, slate eyes stared at me in confusion. Her mouth tugged into a smile, her fists jiggling wildly. I wanted to snatch her back and make a run for it with her, but I couldn’t. Orfaio’s bigger picture called. This wasn’t about me; I had to focus on the greater good.
“She will know how much you love her,” Seraphina promised.
“Goodbye, little one. Goodbye, Seraphina,” I choked out, turning away. Without another word, I made my way up the gangway. I’d reached the halfway point when I heard her begin to cry. The sound shot through the clearing like a pistol crack.
“Mama!” she wailed, cracking my heart into pieces. “Mama!”
I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, every repetition of the word breaking me down further. It took every ounce of strength I had not to turn around and go back for her, reminding myself that she was safest here. Even if I didn’t see her again, she would be in good hands. She would be loved, and she would know how fiercely I loved her.
The two ships flew low to the ground as we headed for Regium, Kaido’s vessel using the cloaking mechanisms that Lojak had installed, while the Fed ship used its usual cloaking device. To make extra certain we’d fly under the radar, we’d added stripes of silver and green paint to one, and red and black to the other—showing the colors of the two queens.
Keeping to the barren wastelands, careful to avoid the mist ships, we reached the outskirts half an hour later. We stayed in the shadows of the mountain that surrounded the capital city of the South. Frost glinted on the peaks, ice gleaming from the crevices meandering across the stone. Huge boulders lay at the bottom, the rocks piled up where blasts had hit the mountainside; the majority remained intact. Buildings and vessels were easy to raze to the ground, but Mother Nature had proven a much tougher opponent.
“The entrance is up ahead,” Navan spoke into the communication frequency. “Follow our lead and bring the canisters. Every single one.”
“Copy that,” Garrik replied.
I wondered what state the hangar would be in, considering the explosion that had decimated most of Gianne’s new fleet, equipped with the deep-space technology. Perhaps they were keeping the mist ships in a hangar we didn’t know about. Maybe when we entered the ventilation shafts, we’d find nothing but rubble. I hoped no
t, but it weighed heavy on my mind. Having discussed it with Jareth the previous evening, he had known of only two other hangars within the vicinity of Regium, but they were not big enough to house so many ships and were generally used for private collections or prized gunships. I prayed he was right.
We set down on a patch of frozen grass in the shadow of the mountain, keeping the cloaking mechanism up. A shimmer nearby told me that the other ship had landed, too. Gathering our weapons and the heavy bags of anti-elixir canisters, spreading them equally between us, we headed out into the icy Vysanthean air. My body was protected from the worst of the cold by a modified version of the flight suit. Essentially, I’d had enough of the fabric wings and cut them off.
“You keep to the edge of the mountain and take the ventilation shaft farther down,” Navan instructed, the two groups meeting on the field. “It’s narrower than this one but leads into the back of the hangar. We need to forge a pincer movement and get as many ships as we can.”
Ronad nodded, handing several paired devices to the Idrax boys. “These contain a drone program. Fit them to the control panel of a ship and it will take over, on autopilot. Use the matching device to lead the ship wherever you want it to go, and control it remotely.”
Lojak took one. “I’ve used these before.”
“Me too,” Garrik said.
“They do not look too difficult,” Rethela added. Only Harko remained silent, staring at the twin devices with some trepidation. He was a weapons man, not a tech man.
“Do we have a rendezvous point for the citizens?” Harko asked. “I need to pass it on to my guys, so they know where to bring the weapons.”
“We need to drop off the sprayers, too,” Bashrik added.
Nisha nodded. “I’ve sent the coordinates to both ships, and to the contact list you gave me, Harko. They’ll meet us there.”
“Then, let’s steal these ships and show those rebels what we’re made of,” I said with a wry smile.
“Agreed. In and out, with as little fuss as possible,” Navan instructed. “Bashrik and Lojak, you return to these ships and take them to the rendezvous. The rest of us will be leaving the hangar, if everything goes smoothly in the dispersal ships.”
With mutterings of “good luck,” we separated. The Idrax brothers sprinted down the side of the mountain toward their entry point, while we moved toward the first ventilation shaft. I recognized it immediately. There, in the mountainside, was the same crack we’d used before, about the size of two people standing side by side. Nature continued to camouflage it with a tangled mass of vines and brambles that crisscrossed over the opening, hiding it from plain sight.
Navan led the way, guiding us through the claustrophobic tunnel. Soon enough, the slippery ground became more solid, the shadows lightening to a barely discernible dimness, giving way to a passageway of sheet metal. Our footsteps echoed, everyone but me having to duck down, their heads brushing the ceiling.
Ten minutes later, we reached the end of the tunnel. I was drenched in sweat from the heat inside and the weight of the canister bags, and it didn’t look like the others were faring too well, either. A grate faced us, looking out on the underground hangar where we’d arrived on that fateful first day. The screws were already loose, and Bashrik made quick work of one side with his toolkit. We didn’t want to take the whole grate off, in case it clattered to the ground and drew attention. Instead, we let it hang from a single screw, moving it aside so we could see the cavernous space below.
It was clear the hangar had taken a pounding from the last explosion, though the structure remained intact. Tons of rubble had been swept into piles of rock and crushed metal at the sides of the space, clearing room for the current set of ships that sat there, gleaming like beacons of hope. So, Gianne’s new fleet had been destroyed, but the hangar itself hadn’t. Despite my persistent aversion to him, I was grateful for Jareth’s intel.
“Everyone ready?” Navan asked.
“Ready,” we chorused.
We were just about to clamber down the stone façade when thunder shook the earth below us, trembling through the ground. A few rocks scattered downward, at the edge of the grate. We froze as a second boom split the terrain, the whole tunnel shuddering. A third followed, shaking the mist ships below. A few fell from their docking supports and hit the floor with an almighty screech of metal on stone.
“What the—?” Bashrik muttered.
“Are we under attack?” Jareth asked, his eyes flitting around in panic.
Over the far side of the hangar, the blast doors rolled open to reveal an unexpected battleground. Dragons filled the sky, dropping down on vibrant, scaled wings from vessels I’d never seen before. They definitely weren’t Draconian technology, looking more like the sleek cruiser that Killick, the merevin, had gifted to us. They soared and wheeled above the enemy, shooting rays of spiraling fire downward. Everything was alight, smoke rising into the air. It was the closest thing to hell I’d ever witnessed.
The queens’ ships, streaked in silver, green, red, and black, barreled out of the hangar toward them, while others approached from the rear. Everywhere I looked, Draconians were jumping into the fray, attacking with a venom I’d never seen in them before. I quickly realized these were not just any Draconians—Cambien and his Pyros had answered my call.
“Cambien?” I gasped. “How can he be here?”
Navan frowned, equally perplexed. “I thought he’d promised to send allies.”
“If he’s here, then…” My heart sank.
“Then?” Jareth snapped.
“Then this is a one-way mission.”
Jareth snorted. “And their timing could not be worse.”
“My poor Draconians,” Bashrik muttered, his eyes wide with sorrow.
I flashed him a look. “Don’t start that again, Bash. You’re a coldblood—always have been, always will be.”
“I thought Draconians couldn’t attack anyone. Isn’t that against their moral code?” Nisha looked baffled.
“Only if they go back to Zai,” I replied sadly. “My guess is, they’re not planning to return.”
“They’re doing this for us?” Ronad asked, his voice thick with emotion.
“I think they’re doing it for everyone—for everyone in the universe who stands to lose if immortality succeeds.”
“I must meet these creatures.” Nisha gaped at them in awe.
I followed her gaze, scanning the chaos for any sign of those familiar, rust-red scales. Cambien could be out there somewhere, and right now I wasn’t sure if he had the best or worst timing imaginable. Anyway, it didn’t matter now. Our subtle approach to ship thievery wasn’t going to work. If they didn’t already, the queens would soon know that we were responsible for these dragons showing up. Brisha knew we’d gone to Zai and met the Draconians; she could put the pieces together easily enough.
“Go, now!” I cried, gesturing at the ships and shouting through the comms device to the Idrax brothers. The hangar doors were open, and gunships were leaving from the farthest side of the gargantuan space. What was a few more ships? We could use the departing gunships as camouflage, drawing attention away from our theft. In the fray, nobody would be any the wiser. We just had to hope the Draconians didn’t go for our ships, instead of the gunships.
“Go out through the blast doors and keep low. Veer away to the left and across the wasteland. Head straight for the North—don’t waste any time. Make sure you avoid the dragons,” Navan instructed.
“Copy that!” Garrik replied.
I peered out of the grate in time to see a trickle of coldbloods scurry down the side of the rockface, at the very back of the hangar. Nobody even noticed them. The guards were too busy running for the fighting vessels.
Seeing them make a move, we made our own leap toward the mist ships, which were tucked in a line closest to the grate. They were in their own section, far from the gunships, presumably so nobody got confused. Either that, or the gunships needed to be closest to the
hangar doors in case of emergencies exactly like this one.
With the queens adequately distracted, it didn’t take us long to steal the adapted sprayer vessels. They weren’t locked, leaving us free to dart up the gangway of each one and find the dispensary room. We’d been given detailed blueprints of these ships by Lojak, the mechanic amongst the brothers, who’d worked on this kind of ship before. It made it even easier to locate the dispensary rooms, which contained two large chambers where liquid needed to be poured.
Opening the lids, I poured a canister of fluid into each one before moving to the cockpit and placing a drone device on the control panel. Each of us had been given one drone device, meaning we could fly one ship and remote-control another. Between us, that meant we had the option of utilizing eighteen vessels—it would have been twenty, but Bashrik and Lojak needed to return for the ships we’d left outside.
Sitting in the cockpit of my mist ship, my nerves jangled. It had been a while since I’d flown a ship. The others had assured me it would be a piece of cake, but actually sitting here, about to flip the ignition, it was an entirely different story. Swallowing my anxiety, I fired up the engines and lifted the ship into the air. Behind me, I saw the drone ship rise, mimicking the movements of my vessel. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.
A moment later, I zoomed out of the hangar doors. The sun had risen, shedding its cold light on the world below. The Draconians were twisting and turning in the air above us, firing powerful beams at any ships that came close, but the queens’ defenders seemed to have retreated into the safety of Regium. Even the gunships had scattered, using evasive maneuvers to avoid the dragons’ wrath and return to the relative safety of the city, diving toward another hangar. It looked like the queens needed to regroup. After all, nobody had expected dragons to attack.
In the throng of Draconians, I spotted the bronzed red scales of Cambien. He was hovering on the outskirts, his snout turned toward the capital city. They were not the kind to attack innocent civilians, and so they stayed put, keeping to the outskirts until the queens decided to launch their armies into a retaliation.