She scoffs. “I know what you’re doing.” But she’s leaning toward it, breathing in the warm, yeasty smell.
“Is it working?”
She doesn’t answer, but her stomach rumbles—which is an answer all in itself. Then she reaches out from beneath the robe and snatches the bun out of my hand.
It disappears beneath the hood, and seconds later, her hand reemerges, empty. Amazing—she had to have eaten it in record time.
I take a more leisurely bite of the other bun—I’m hungry as well, but unlike the princess, I’m used to it—and start walking. She falls in behind me.
“Why don’t you just leave me here?” she says. “You obviously don’t like me—wouldn’t you like to get rid of me? And if the security forces are on their way, I can just hand myself over.”
Not for the first time, I think about it. She really does seem insistent that her mom would take care of us, but my gut is saying the Empress can’t be trusted. Once we’ve got Milla and can make ourselves scarce, then sure. But now? Not a chance.
Not that I plan on telling her any of that. Instead, I change the subject. “Who blew up the Caelestis?” I ask.
“What? How would I know?” She sounds confused and more than a little offended.
I don’t answer. There’s a garment shop on the corner, and I enter with Kali close behind me. “Later,” I tell her. “Pick some clothes. And be quick.”
“We have enough for me to get something, too?” There’s surprise in her tone.
“You didn’t think I was going to leave you in that dirty robe, did you?”
It’s her turn to evade the question, which means she did. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or pat myself on the back. She obviously thinks I’m as big an asshole as I wanted her to.
“Just pick something out before I change my mind.” I walk toward the back of the store, where they keep the boots.
“Are you always this bossy?” she demands, following me.
“Yes. Are you always this slow-moving?”
She growls a little at me, which makes me grin for no reason I can understand. Then she moves to the center of the store and turns around in a full circle. The shopkeeper is watching, of course, but Kali clearly isn’t the first questionable character to do questionable things in her store. From her bored expression, she’s probably not even the first one today.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do here,” the princess says in a whisper.
“Choose what you want, pay for it, leave. What’s the problem?”
“I’ve never done that before.”
I wonder for a second how she got all the fancy clothes I have no doubt that she wears. Then decide I don’t want to know because it’s probably too infuriating. “Just pick something.”
She sighs. “It’s all so…dull.”
“You’re not going to a goddamn ball. It doesn’t have to be shiny,” I growl, annoyed because now the shop assistant is looking at me.
I get the impression she would like us to leave but is put off from suggesting it by the laser pistol at my waist. I head on over. “Do you have anything with a little more…color?” I ask her.
“Not purple,” Kali adds.
The shop assistant’s eyes widen.
“I don’t think that will be an issue,” I tell Kali in a what-the-fuck voice. “Only the Ruling Families wear purple.”
I get out a wad of planetas and wave it at the assistant, hoping it will make her forget Kali’s faux pas.
It works. She perks up immediately.
“The better stuff is through here,” she says, leading us into a smaller room. I’ve never been shopping with a woman before—except Milla, and she doesn’t count—but I’m guessing Kali isn’t behaving in a typical manner, even before she stands in the middle and does a twirl.
The shopkeeper comes back with a pile of garments over her arm. “These were ordered, but the customers never came back to collect them.” She drops the garments on the counter along the back of the room. “See if there’s something here you might like.”
Kali paws through them, pulling out a few black ones.
“That works,” I say. “Matches the color of your heart.”
She just rolls her eyes and keeps shopping.
“I’m not looking for me,” she finally clarifies. “I’m looking for Rain.”
“She spends all her days in a white robe. So…white jumpsuit?” But Kali looks up at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. Women are weird. “Just get what you need and hurry up.”
She actually does as I say for once, and we’re out of there and back on the street ten minutes later. Kali is laden with bags under the robe, and she’s wearing the new boots I picked out for her. We just need provisions now, and then we can head back.
I take care of that easily enough, picking up provisions to last us for a few weeks, including enough first-aid supplies to cover the group should we inevitably get into some scrapes. Fresh food for the next few days, a shitload of bottled water, toiletries, protein bars, some dehydrated meals that are years out of date but should be okay, and a sack of mealie-meal flour—the staple of Kridacus. But mostly sacks of dried fishgalen.
I hate dried fishgalen, the tiny freshwater fish abundant in the lakes on Askkandia. It’s what poor people eat, and it tastes like shit and smells even worse. But it’s high in protein and will keep us alive and there isn’t anything else. Most of the shelves in the store were empty—another sign that things are going to shit fast.
To make up for all the fishgalen, I add a few bottles of gerjgin, a strong Askkandian alcohol—actually, more than a few, but who knows how long they need to last? I pay in cash and promise another ten if they deliver to the ship right now. It’s time to get the fuck out of here.
As we step out of the shop, I take us on the quickest route back to the port. But we’re only about halfway when I become aware of a problem. Someone is following us.
Maybe Dylan sent them to get his money back—honestly, the man’s a crook.
Or maybe he sussed out who Kali was and decided to go for the reward.
Or maybe some random stranger just picked up on the fact that we seem to have a lot of cash. In Rangar, it can be any—or all—of those things and more to boot.
There are only three people at the moment, so I’m not overly worried, but the princess is likely going to get in the way if it comes to a fight. Which I’m guessing it will, as there’s a lean, hungry look about all three of them.
But the first step is to alert Kali to the problem, so I lean over and quietly say, “We’re being followed. Don’t look—”
But it’s too late. She’s already rubbernecking.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “You should give a class on how not to be inconspicuous.”
“Shouldn’t we get help?” she asks, her expression carefully blank again.
Oh, to live the life of a princess. “From where? Besides, there’s only three of them.”
“Exactly,” she answers. “There’s three of them!”
I try not to be insulted as I search the area for an escape route. The last thing I want is to lead them back to the ship. They might have friends, and it could get messy—plus that alien abomination isn’t exactly what I’d call low-key.