I’m afraid I know what’s coming next. There’s a definite pattern of explosions and then—
Before I can even form the thought, a huge bulkhead slams shut in front of us, cutting us off from the prison ship—and what’s likely our only possible escape route—for good.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Ian yells as he sprints the remaining distance. “That’s our last shot at finding Milla!” he yells again, kicking viciously at the bulkhead like he thinks that will get it to open.
When it doesn’t, he pulls out the pistol he’s so fond of and shoots at it. When it still doesn’t move, he lets out a roar of frustration nearly as loud as the alarm still pealing around us.
This Milla person must be very important to him.
I glance at the princess, who shrugs like it’s not a big deal. But I can see the panic in her eyes, know the same fear is probably reflected in mine. Ian doesn’t exactly seem like the most trustworthy sort, but at least he had a plan. Now, he’s losing it, and the rest of us don’t have any idea where to begin.
“What do we do now?” Merrick echoes my thoughts, shouting to be heard over the blaring alarm and Ian’s very loud, very inventive, stream of curses. I’ve never heard most of them before, and I commit them to memory, just in case they’re ever needed back at the monastery.
“Wait it out?” the princess suggests, but she doesn’t sound convinced.
I shake my head. “I don’t think it would be a long wait, Your Highness.” It’s getting uncomfortably hot in here, and the smoke is still hanging in the air, making my eyes smart. Sweat slides down my spine beneath the heavy robes. Ian has gone mostly quiet; he’s holding a whispered conversation with Max, who seems to be trying to calm him down.
For a second, I imagine a different outcome for us. Me throwing myself at the bulkhead and lifting it up with my bare hands, clearing the path to the prison ship and saving us all. Merrick would be proud of me for once, and Princess Kali would be so grateful that she might actually give me a hug. Ian and Max would—
“No, I guess not,” the princess says, interrupting the daydream that’s so much better than our current reality. “And please, call me Kali.”
It’s not a hug, but I’ll take it.
I search the docking bay, and my eyes settle on a bulky object over on the far side. It appears untouched by the chaos, but it’s covered by some sort of dark tarpaulin so I can’t see what it is. It looks big enough to be a ship—bigger than the shuttles, at least.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing.
Ian stops cursing long enough to look. “Well, I suppose if we’re desperate,” he says, eyes narrowing. “And I think we can all admit that we are.”
“Oh, hell no.” Max looks horrified. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Come on. I know you have no better ideas,” Ian says, lifting a brow.
“What is—” Princess Kalinda starts, but Ian is already striding away. She looks at me, and this time I shrug. They clearly know what’s under the tarp, but whatever it is, Max doesn’t think it’s the answer to our salvation.
All the same, we’re running out of options.
Ian stops beside the tarp-covered object, then grabs onto the cover and starts dragging it off to reveal the sorriest-looking spaceship I have ever seen. Not that I’ve seen many, but I don’t need to have to know that this thing is a heap of junk that looks like it hasn’t flown in a millennium. The Caelestis is in better shape—in its current state.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding,” Kali snaps, looking at Ian like he’s some kind of particularly gross breed of slogg.
“What’s the matter?” Ian taunts. “Not good enough for you, Princess?”
“That flying death trap isn’t good enough for any sentient being,” she answers coldly. “No wonder it seems like such a good idea to you.”
I’d be devastated if someone said that to me, but Ian just cups a hand to his ear, pretending he can’t hear her. Then he heads around the front of the ship.
Max follows. And—after giving her an apologetic shrug, since apparently that’s how we talk to each other—so do I.
The ship is bigger than a shuttle but smaller than the prison ship, maybe about forty meters in length. The body is triangular, and it sits on landing gear that looks like a tripod and holds it about six meters off the ground. It’s hard to tell what color it is under all the grime—I’m guessing rust-colored. There’s a door close to the pointed end of the triangle. Ian stops beneath it and hits the button on the landing gear, presumably meant to lower the entrance ramp.
Nothing happens.
“Big surprise,” Kali mutters from behind me. Looks like she decided it’s worth checking out after all.
Ian ignores her and punches the button again. Not surprisingly, nothing happens again. Except the Caelestis chooses that moment to groan and lurch sickly to the side.
“Maybe we need to rethink this,” Max comments.
“There’s nothing to rethink. We’re out of options.” Ian glances at me. “Now might be a good time to pray.”
Sadly, our religion doesn’t work that way. What will happen will happen as the Light wills. The monastery gets pilgrims every year from all over the system, begging priestesses—especially the high priestess—to pray to the Light to intercede on their behalf, but they’re misguided. I can’t do anything to change the world. I’m just ready to save it when the Light shows the path.
But I don’t have to get started with that complicated explanation, because at that moment, a man peers over the top of the ship. He’s wearing a black lab suit, so he must work for the Corporation. He’s also got silky black hair with a bright purple streak, sallow white skin, and narrow dark-brown eyes. I love the hair—I really hope there’s nothing in the Book of the Dying Light that says a high priestess can’t have purple hair, because I think it’s going to be my next fashion choice.
“Gage,” Ian yells up at him. “So that’s where you’ve been hiding, you tricky bastard. Let us in.”
Gage grimaces as he leans over the edge of the ship and shouts something unintelligible. Ian raises his arms in a what-did-you-say kind of gesture, so Gage tries again. And again. Finally, he rolls his eyes and holds up a finger. Seconds later, a ladder drops down the side of the ship.
“A fucking ladder?” Kali mutters with a disbelieving shake of her head. “This just gets better and better.”
I kind of agree with her, but I’m not brave enough to say so. Especially since Ian clearly has no concerns about the primitive method of entry. He’s already halfway up, with Max right behind him.
I edge closer, but Merrick stops me with a hand on my arm and says, “I don’t think this is a good idea. We have a better chance staying on the space station. They’re probably getting everything under control right now.”
“It is the most sophisticated space station ever built,” Kali puts in. But despite her serene expression, she sounds unsure.
“The most important thing is to get you home,” Merrick says.
I think about being back in the monastery and wait for happy thoughts to fill my mind. It’s the smart choice, the good choice. But there is no happiness inside me at the prospect of making it. Instead, just considering it feels like a full-grown narthompalus is sitting on my chest, getting heavier and heavier until I can’t so much as draw a breath.