Chapter 8 8

I search for him in my mind. Only his voice is there, but I pull up a mental picture of him. I trace all the details. The blackness of his hair. The arch of his brows. The length of his jaw. The set of his lips.

But mostly, the vividness of his blue eyes.

I reach out to that picture and I pull it into me. I let his arms wrap around me, holding me with strength.

"I am with you, Nova," his voice fills my entire mind. "I promise, I will do whatever it takes to be with you."

I smile. I swear my entire body is glowing.

It's hard. Everything is hard and the odds are impossible. But I'm happy.

"Then stay where you are and let me figure this out," I say to him. "I need you to stay safe and away until Cyrillius is dead."

Once more, I feel his conflict. Valen can do anything. He could destroy planets, command ships and armies. He can wield Neron.

But this...he cannot do this. He cannot kill Cyrillius.

I get a...wishful impression, but not words of promise, and I have to remember who he is and everything in his past.

"I don't want to be alone here," I say meekly. I get up from the chair and climb into the massive bed. I slip under the covers, pulling them up and over my head where I can pretend I am on Kaelea, in the same house as Valen. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

My eyes are still closed, but I swear I feel the air around me warm. I swear I feel the brush of a hand on my arm. I swear I feel lips brush against my neck.

"Forever," I hear his voice whisper.

And we may be sectors away, across the galaxy. But I feel him with me, and his promise, as if it's been burned into my very skin.

I'm dead asleep. So when the door swings open and three people walk in, they scare the slag out of me.

I reach for my Neron staff, but it isn't anywhere near me. We had to leave it on The Corsair.

"I hope you slept well," a female voice says.

I blink, pushing my wild hair out of my eyes and take a defensive stance on the bed.

Commander 12-3 walks into the room, followed by two others. The first, a woman wearing black clothing, carries a tray of food, enough to feed six people. The other, a man with brilliant red hair and a proud nose and chin, carries something in a garment bag.

He hooks it onto the wardrobe and unzips it, revealing a sophisticated looking jumpsuit with a high collar.

"You will be meeting with our engineers and suppliers in one hour," 12-3 says, folding her hands behind her back. "You will have approximately three hours to work with Edan Calwin today, and the next four days, completing the weapon he commissioned. Cyrillius will be joining you later today."

I stand frozen on the bed, unsure of what to do as the woman sets the food on a table and then she and the red-haired man leave the room.

Through the door, I see four guards standing on either side. They all hold Neron weapons.

I don't stand a chance at running.

"Take a shower," 12-3 says. "Eat some food. Get dressed. I will be back in forty-five minutes to escort you."

She turns without another word and walks out, leaving me locked in this room once more.

I step off the bed, looking from the food to the door to the clothes they left me.

At first I'm dead set that I won't touch the food, even if I am starving. They could have put anything in it. I could be dead in less than a minute.

But Cyrillius wants me to work for him, so it makes no sense to poison me.

The food is just food, and it does look slam delicious.

I step forward, running my fingers over the clothing they left. It's made of fine leather and cotton, high quality. It's all black with Neron blue stitching.

A picture flashes through my mind. Of how fine Valen and I would look, standing side by side in our black.

I blink, shoving the thought aside.

I head into the bathing room and turn the water on, hot as I can stand.

Twenty minutes later, I'm clean and dressed with my hair braided over one shoulder. I hate how much I like the clothing they brought me. They even left fingerless gloves, the same kind I loved to wear back on Korpillion.

My stomach is clenching in tight knots of nerves, but I force myself to eat a few bites, knowing I have to keep up my strength for what is to come. Whatever that might be.

Right on time, the door swings open, and in steps 12-3 with four guards at her sides.

"Follow me," she says flatly.

Without a word, I follow her out the door, back into the hall. This one is simple, unlike the way into Cyrillius' quarters. There are ten doors along this hall. I count them, making sure to pick out markers so that if I need to, I can find my way back or out.

We take a right at the end of the hall, heading in the opposite direction of Cyrillius' quarters.

There are so many people in the Compound. There are hundreds of soldiers, headed this way or that. There are important diplomats stepping out of meetings. There are commanders. There are cleaning crews by the dozens.

This really is like a hive. All scurrying to work for their king bee.

And everywhere, there are Kinduri.

They watch me with their black eyes as I walk by. With every ounce of will I have, I lock everything inside that vault, determined they will never find my truths.