Page 129

Out from the belly of the war ship, my enemies smuggle me away from the comfort of my friends, the safety of my people, and the might of my army as it prepares for war. I hold my breath, expecting Orion’s voice to come over the com. To ground the ship. For ripWings to shoot her engines out. None do. Somewhere, my mother will be making tea, wondering where I am, if I am safe. I pray she cannot feel this pain across the void, this fear that consumes me despite all my vaunted strength and foolish bluster. I’m afraid, despite what I know. Not just for myself, but for Mustang.

I hear Antonia and Cassius speaking beyond the crate. Cassius has broadcast an emergency signal from the craft. A few moments later, a cold voice crackles over the com.

“Sarpedon shuttle, this is the LDC assault-runner Kronos; you have transmitted an Olympic distress signal. Please identify yourself.”

“Kronos, this is the Morning Knight. Clearance code 7-8-7-Echo-Alpha-9-1-2-2-7. I have escaped from imprisonment aboard the enemy’s flagship and am requesting escort and docking clearance. Antonia au Severus-Julii is with me. We have valuable cargo. The enemy is in pursuit.”

There’s a pause.

“Register, code accepted. Hold on the com. The next voice you hear will be the Protean Knight’s.” A moment later Aja’s voice rumbles through the ship, filling me with dread. So she did survive the waste to find her way back home.

“Cassius? You’re alive.”

“For now.”

“What is your cargo?”

“The Reaper, Virginia, and the body of Ares,” Antonia says excitedly.

“The body…I want to see them.”

Boots thud toward my container. The top opens and Cassius hauls Mustang out. Then he hauls me out and tosses me to the ground before the hologram. Small and dark in the holographic projector, Aja watches us with otherworldly calm. Antonia keeps Sevro’s gun trained on my head as Cassius pulls up Sevro’s head by his Mohawk to show his face.

“Goryhell, Bellona.” Aja says, excitement entering her voice. “Goryhell. You’ve done it. The Sovereign will want to see you in the citadel.”

“Before I do, I need you to assure me that no harm will come to Virginia.”

“What are you talking about?” Antonia asks, wary how close Cassius stands near her with his razor. “She’s a traitor.”

“And she’ll be imprisoned,” Cassius says. “Not executed. Not tortured. I need your word, Aja. Or I turn this ship around. Darrow killed your sister. Do you want vengeance or not?”

“You have my word,” Aja says. “No harm will befall her. I am sure Octavia will agree. We need her to settle things with the Rim. We’re sending squadrons to intercept your pursuit. Re-direct to vector 41’13’25, circle the moon and await contact from the Lion of Mars for docking instructions. We can’t clear your ship to land moonside. But ArchGovernor Augustus will be joining the Sovereign in the Citadel within the hour. I don’t think he’ll mind offering you a ride down.”

“The ArchGovernor is here?” Cassius asks, “I don’t see his ships.”

“Of course he’s here,” Aja replies. “He knew Darrow was never going to Mars. His entire fleet is on the far side of Luna, waiting for them to attack my father’s. This is his trap.”

Mustang and I are dragged down the cargo plank of the shuttle by Obsidians in black armor, each nearly as large as Ragnar and wearing the badge of the lion. I try to kick up at them, but they jam two-meter long ionPikes down into my stomach, electrocuting me. My muscles cramp. Electricity screaming through me. They toss me down to the deck, pulling me up by my hair so I’m on my knees staring down at the body of Sevro. Mercifully his eyes are shut. His mouth pink from smeared blood. Mustang tries to rise. A muffled thump as an Obsidian hits her in the stomach. Putting her back on her knees, gasping for breath. Cassius has been forced to his knees as well.

Antonia joins Lilath, who stands before us in black armor. A screaming gold skull on either shoulder and another in the center of the breastpiece. Down her sides are human rib-bones embedded in the armor. The first bonerider in all her barbaric finery. The Jackal’s Sevro. Head shaved. Quiet eyes sunken in a small, pinched face that likes little of what it sees in the world. Behind her, tower ten young Peerless Scarred, heads shaved like hers for war. “Scan them,” she orders.

“What the hell is this?” Cassius asks.

“Jackal’s orders.” Lilath watches carefully as the Golds scan me. Cassius suffers the indignity as Lilath continues. “Boss doesn’t want tricks.”

“I have the Sovereign’s warrant,” he says. “We’re to take the Reaper and Virginia to the Citadel.”

“Understood. We received the same orders. Bound there soon.” She motions Cassius to stand as her men clear them. No bugs or devices or radiation tracking. Cassius dusts his knees off. I remain on mine as Lilath peers at Sevro, who one of the Obsidians has dragged down the ramp. She feels his pulse and smiles. “A fine kill, Bellona.”

One Bonerider, a lofty, striking man with blazing eyes and a statue’s cheekbones makes a little cooing noise. Tattooed fingers with painted nails tap his bottom lip. “How much for Barca’s bones?” he asks.

“Not for sale,” Cassius replies.

The man flashes an arrogant smile. “Everything’s for sale, my goodman. Ten million credits for a rib.”

“No.”

“One hundred million. Come now, Bellona…”

“My title, Legate Valii-Rath, is Morning Knight. You may address me as sir or not at all. Ares’s body is property of the state. It’s not mine to sell. But if you ask me about it again, I will have more than words with you, sir.”

“Will you have a rut?” Tactus’s elder brother asks. “Is that what you mean?” I’ve never met the annoyingly aristocratic creature before, and I’m glad for it. Tactus seems the better of the bunch.

“You gorydamn savage,” Mustang says through bloody teeth.

“Savage?” Tactus’s brother asks. “Such a pretty mouth. That’s not how you should use it.” Cassius takes a step toward the man. The other Boneriders reach for their blades.

“Tharsus. Shut up.” Lilath tilts her head, listening to a com in her ear as he returns to her side, lifting his nose. “Yes, my liege,” she says into her com. “Barca is dead. I checked.”