by Natalie Grey
She caught him looking, and the moment was gone. She managed a smile, though, nodding her head toward a vibrant spray of white and green at the edge of the dome.
“That was my favorite tree. I climbed it every day I had time away from my lessons. It’s how I broke my leg the first time.”
“That must have been difficult.” He could not imagine her taking kindly to sitting still. To his surprise, he laughed.
“Not at all. The bone was mended and I was back in the tree the next day. I’m afraid I learned nothing at all from the experience.”
“Didn’t you even get a stern talking to?”
“No.” She smiled again, at ease for one brief moment. “When they told him about it, he just laughed and said I’d need to learn how to climb. He loved anything I did that was daring … and sometimes I think he liked it most when I went too far and failed.” The smile faded from her eyes and she looked down.
“And yet you still think fondly of him.” It was clear that she did.
“He didn’t want me to be hurt,” she said quietly. “That’s not why. I think he liked to remember that I could fail. That I was—”
Human. His mind supplied the word and he waited, wondering if she would say it, wondering what she had meant to say. But she did not finish her sentence at all. She looked up, almost in relief.
“The wind has changed.” She looked around at the Dragons. “One of you will need to come with me and use the butt of your weapon on the panel edges.”
“I’ll do it,” Talon told her.
For a moment she hesitated, but in the end she only nodded and beckoned them all to come after her. Fifteen yards out she stopped them with one raised hand and motioned for them all to drop to a crouch while she crept forward alone. Her gloved hands rolled a snowball and tossed it toward a patch of ground that seemed no different from any other.
It exploded into a line of towers that pushed their way through the snow as she ducked. Lasers scattered through the blowing snow as electronic eyes scanned the area in a random pattern. Tera stayed down as the towers hummed, but the very moment the lights died and the towers began to descend, she beckoned the Dragons forward urgently. They waded through the snow to cluster around her.
“What was that?” Nyx asked her curiously.
“There’s a latency period of forty five seconds if they determine impact is coming from a windstorm.” Tera grinned. “Not usually a problem except for right here. See the way sun strikes the arch of the dome there? It’s just enough with the vent placed where it is, the ice melts and runs down there—” one black-clad finger pointed “—and covers the second proximity sensor. And by now, you’re all standing over the building’s foundation, so it can’t tell the difference between you and the machinery in the walls.”
“Does this happen on every one of the buildings?”
“I’ve no idea. Some of the others are entirely in the shadow of the mountain range and they never get direct sunlight. Most buildings have something like this, though. It’s impossible to account for everything. When I told them about this weakness, even Aleksandr laughed at me. He said no one would ever survive outside long enough to notice the pattern.” Her lips tightened briefly, and then her expression cleared as her fingers found what they were looking for. “Here. In a second, strike here, as hard as you can, and when you feel it break, move up along the seam and then over two squares. Try to break each joining with one strike, and move around as you do it.
“Before you start, though, everyone else look through the window. D’you see the barrier around the big tree in the center of that pond?” The Dragons nodded yes, and Tera craned to point to a stone pathway that looped through the gardens. “When you get through the opening, stay to the left of that path. Never touch it. When you get to the water, swim under the barrier—it’s two feet under—and come straight up. There’s plenty of space between the barrier and the tree, and none of the security cameras can see in. Talon…” Her voice trailed off.
Talon looked over. The others paused, not sure what was happening, but he knew. He’d felt the leap in his chest when she spoke his name aloud for the first time. He watched her clear her throat.
“Go ahead.” She gestured to the outer plating of the dome.
He hefted his rifle, took a moment to make sure his muscles were limber, and then slammed the butt of it down on the window. He bashed at the links as randomly as he could until the plates of glass fell away into the dome and the irregular hole opened up.
“Go, go, go.” He and Tera waved them through, and she jumped just before he did. As she crouched to tap out the alarm code on the wall, the rest of them sprinted for the ornamental lake and dove. The water was clean enough for him to make out the faint shapes of the others as they made their way under the barrier and came up, letting their breath out quietly.
Only a few moments later, the sounds of footsteps and voices could be heard over the moan of the wind from outside. Talon only had a moment to wonder where in hell Tera was before he felt a faint brush against his legs. A moment later, Tera surfaced next to him silently and gave him a nod.
They waited while the guards called out to one another and then Tera leaned to whisper in Loki’s ear, motioning for him to pass along instructions to the others, and did the same with Talon. Her breath was warm on his neck, and he tried not to let his eyes drift closed as she spoke.
Walk along the right side of the bluestone path, and don’t brush against any plant with red leaves. Stop three paces before the redstone path. They climbed out of the water, near-silent except for the water dripping off their light armor, and followed where she led. She walked calmly and quietly, unconcerned with the possibility of discovery, and scrambled up one of the trees while they waited. An alarm blared out a moment later, but Tera only smiled when she dropped back to the ground.
“Ship alert,” she explained. “They go off all the time because of the snow, so no one will think anything of it if it turns out to be fake, and moving the launch pad takes a lot of energy. It makes the walkways and the garden video short out for about forty seconds. This way.”
The hallways were eerily quiet. Tera walked quickly, her frown deepening at every silent turn. Three turns in, she stopped to press on a tiny section of the wall and input a code, her fingers hitting a staccato beat with eerie precision. Whatever the flashing lights on the screen meant, she did not like it.
What is it? Talon knew he did not need words to ask. She shook her head then, but several hallways later, she repeated the exercise, and her shoulders slumped and this time she turned to look at them.
“He’s not here.”
“What?”
“He’s not….” She clenched her hands. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re sure he was here to start with?”
“I was here, I spoke to him.” She looked around herself. “But all that’s left is the guards. He’s taken the whole household.”
“So what now?” Talon asked her.
“What d’you mean ‘what now’? We leave.”
“Where’s his study?”
“That way, but—”
“Take us there.”
She sighed, but nodded. They walked down a side corridor paneled in a rich, dark wood, carpet soft beneath their still-wet feet.
“We’re not exactly going to be difficult to track,” Talon murmured.
“Do you have any idea how boring it is to guard a building on Ragnarok? After the gardens, the guards will be ready to relax. His visit here was more excitement than they’ve had in months, they’re enjoying the quiet again.” She smiled slightly. “And in any case, I set all of the video feeds to loop. They won’t see anyone anywhere.” There was a pause as they detoured down another hallway, moving toward the heart of the building. She lowered her voice when she spoke next. “What are you hoping to find?”
“What?”
“In the study? Proof that he’s the Warlord?”
“We have proof,” Talon sai
d simply.
For a moment, he thought he saw her face go pale, but it must have been a trick of the light. She nodded tightly. “I see. Then … why go further? We should leave.”
Why, indeed? Talon pondered as they walked. He was not sure what she would think if he told her the truth: that he had become obsessed. He thought he knew Aleksandr. The man knew many of the Dragons by name. He was intelligent, forgiving, quick with a joke. Talon had never even suspected there might be more to the man’s story—and had the proof he found not been irrefutable, he would still doubt it.
He knew that they should leave Ragnarok to continue the hunt, but he could not turn around and walk away from this place. He wanted to see the Warlord’s rooms, look at the art he chose for the walls. He wanted to know everything.
He wanted, above all, to ask Tera about her childhood. What little he knew of Aleksandr had been overturned once again with the woman’s appearance. The Warlord of Ymir had adopted a child? It was unbelievable, and more unbelievable still that she evidently had such warm memories of him. And then she had come to find Talon, to join his side. Why?
She could be lying. He knew the answer. The crew’s eyes said it. His mind said it. And yet…
He was beginning to believe her.
The clank of machinery jerked him from his reverie and he whirled. The floor was heaving, random sections of it rising unpredictably before dropping down. The Dragons had dropped to a crouch, struggling to keep their footing, and it was then that Talon saw the panels in the wall unhinge, revealing the barrels of weaponry set into the fabric of the house himself. They began to emerge with a hiss of well-oiled machinery.
He caught sight of Tera’s horrified face and saw shock writ there, but there was no time to wonder whether it was a ploy, whether or not she’d known. Talon roared for the soldiers to scatter, get out of the way, and they split down the center of the group, one set pounding towards him and another moving back the way they had come. It was Loki who stumbled, a rising portion of the floor catching him so that he went down with a yell. His boots caught in the heaving ground and he tried to haul his way out. Nyx was there, bracing her feet and hauling at Loki’s arms as the guns swung to focus on the two of them.
Talon only vaguely registered the impact on his body. He was flung sideways against the wall and stars burst across his vision as his head slammed against the wood paneling. He had an impression of an impossibly fast leap and then Nyx was stumbling back with Loki in her arms as Tera ripped the barrels of the automated guns sideways. A sharp series of thuds and metallic groans marked bullets being loaded, catching on the bent metal, and Tera dragged Loki upright the next second.
“This way,” she said urgently, jerking her head back down the corridor. “We have to get out. This’ll set off alarms. Come on!”
Talon cast one last look down the hallway and cursed.
“Talon!” It was her voice that did it. Her eyes wide with fear, and Loki still leaning against her. “He’s hurt, we have to go!”
Talon gave one heartfelt curse, and then leapt the heaving floor and followed his crew down the corridors to safety.
8
She shouldn’t have saved the boy.
Tera slumped back against the wall of the operating room, letting her eyes drift closed. Let them think she was exhausted, let them think she was kicking herself for her failure to spot the trap before they triggered it. All of that was true. She’d only been in residence on Ragnarok when the house was occupied. She hadn’t known what security systems Aleksandr had for when the place was deserted—and it had taken a good deal of her enhanced strength to bend the barrels of those guns.
But what she should have done, what she truly should have done, was let the boy die, and the woman with him. Tera had seen enough, even in the short hours of the shuttle ride and assault, to know that Talon had a special place in his heart for both of them. For them to die by her father’s hand, when it was Talon himself who had insisted that the group press onward….
It would have broken something in him. He would have gotten sloppy in his anger, easy to take down, or he might have backed away from this misguided crusade of his. Either way, her father would have been safe. And that, after all, was why Tera had come here, wasn’t it? To save him?
Somewhere, this mission had gone wrong.
She knew exactly where, too: it had gone wrong when she began to wonder if she could convince them. That was when she had gotten soft. She lifted her lashes carefully and stole a glance at Talon, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the Dragon who was attending to Loki’s foot.
Dragons, it seemed, truly did everything to keep the ship running. The golden-haired woman seemed to be a mechanic, all of them were at least competent pilots, and this one, whose reddish-brown stubble never quite went away, was the medic of the group.
In the corner, Nyx stood as if she wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball, and the other Dragons crowded in the doorway, silent in the face of death. Loki’s injuries would be healed within the hour, but that wasn’t what scared them—they had nearly lost one of their own, and they knew it.
They deserved it, Tera told herself coldly. They’d gone running off to kill a man they didn’t even know for crimes that weren’t his. People who killed like that deserved no mercy. Whether she forced them to turn away by their blood or another’s, it was just; none of them would do any less for their family.
And none of this would be necessary if they’d given her the benefit of the doubt to explain that Aleksandr was innocent, that they had the wrong man.
They’d thrown her in the brig instead.
They deserved it. She shouldn’t even have to keep telling herself this—and she should have let the boy die. He was a killer as well, wasn’t he? She knew his good looks and his youth were deceptive. Talon would never have allowed him on the team otherwise.
It would have been unsettling enough if she had stayed her hand for Talon’s sake alone, for the fear of what she would see in his eyes while they died. It was worse that she had done it for Loki’s sake and Nyx’s. For people who distrusted her. People who wanted to kill her own father.
“Tera.” Talon’s tone said he’d had to repeat her name a few times to get her attention.
Tera pushed herself off the wall wearily, flexing her fingers as the handcuffs bit into her wrists, and followed Talon from the room. They walked in silence toward the brig, her careful to trail him by a step as if she did not know where they were going; she had begun to build a full map of the ship in her head.
“Nyx needs someone to see to that rib,” Tera said finally, when they were out of range of the operating room.
Talon looked over at her in silence.
“And Loki might as well. Your medic’s good, but something got fouled up with the woman, and it might get fouled up with him, too.”
To her surprise, Talon’s lips twitched. “Nyx … doesn’t like doctors.”
“She knows something’s wrong.” Even at the confidence, the moment of being treated almost as crew, Tera didn’t smile.
“Yes.” Talon’s smile dropped away as well. “I know that.”
“If you don’t want to be on the grid….” Tera paused as he swung open the door of the brig. She had to force herself to walk through the door demurely; she was coming to hate this little room. She turned on the threshold. “I know a doctor. One who….” Put in some of my implants. The ones even her father did not know about. “Operated on me after a bad mission.”
There was a quirk of Talon’s eyebrows. How stupid do you think I am?
“It’s not like that. He’s not Aleksandr’s.”
“You had a bad mission and got patched up by some doctor who wasn’t his?”
“When you’re hurt, you can’t always afford to go back to headquarters,” she pointed out. “And you know as well as I do that assassins aren’t exactly welcome everywhere.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. He leaned against the doorframe. “But you know
I can’t trust you with this.”
“No.” Tera looked up at him as she took a seat on the floor. She held his eyes; now was the time to advance and plant a seed of doubt. “I don’t know it. I’ve done nothing but help you.”
“You’re holding things back. You still care for your father—which I can’t blame you for, but it is a potential problem. And you and my team…”
“Don’t like each other.” Her temper flared. “But why should I like them? Answer me that. They’re trying to kill someone I love.”
She watched his eyes widen fractionally at her admission. Lying was easy … with someone who wasn’t a Dragon. There were tells that went beyond anything she could control, things this man would sense in his gut. For him, she needed to go as close to the truth as she dared, break him on emotion, and slip in the lie before he could recover. This, she had not learned under her father’s tutelage—she had known it before, on the streets: how to turn any truth to her advantage.
He knew the game as well, and he made the move she would have expected.
“You’re trying to kill him, too.” He did not allow incredulity into his tone, and that was its own insult; they both knew he doubted her.
“I can do that and still love him!” Her voice was raw. She had to believe, just for a few moments, that he was the Warlord. Then she could pull this off. “So he was the Warlord of Ymir. You know what? He’s also the man who saved me from a fight that would have killed me. He’s the man who raised me. And nothing you can say is going to take that away. He’ll always be that man. I can do what needs to be done and not like it. And I can be on the same side as your crew and not like them, too.”
He recoiled as she spoke, and she waited for him to turn and leave. To her surprise, however, he shut the door behind him and sat on the little bench on the other side of the room.
