Zenith. Lindsay Cummings
in the process. One she was sworn to protect.”
Andi sucked in a breath.
Her chest felt split in two.
“She was to be my heir,” General Cortas whispered. “And you stole her from me. From my wife. From my people.”
My people. They were once Andi’s people, too. Her throat was dry as a husk, her heart hammering against it.
But killing Kalee, even by accident, had been an act of treason. There was nothing to say, nothing she could do to take back what she’d done.
So she focused on the present.
“Why me?” Andi asked. “There are a million Patrolmen or soldiers you could offer the job to.”
“Not without starting a war,” the general said.
It made sense. The Mirabel Patrolmen couldn’t just waltz into a Xen Pterran prison and steal a prisoner out from under the guards without violating the terms of the treaty. The agreement was meant to prevent further war between Xen Ptera and the galaxy’s other major systems, Prime, Stuna, Tavina and Phelexos. Galactic peace had always required a careful balancing act between each system, and when the Olen System rebelled, it had upset that balance.
The Unified Systems couldn’t risk an upset again.
But a pirate, not officially affiliated with any side...
The general tapped his fingers against the desk, drawing Andi’s attention back to the screen. “There is, of course, another option.”
Andi raised her eyebrows, and General Cortas smiled.
“I could send you and your entire crew to the Pits of Tenebris to serve out a life sentence for the crimes you’ve committed. Murder, robbery, forgery, arson.” He ticked off each word on the tips of his fingers. “Dare I go on? I can bury you all, so dark and so deep that you will never see the sun again.”
Andi sucked in a breath. The Pits of Tenebris were where the hardest of criminals were imprisoned, those even worse than Andi. Men and women who took sick pleasure in torturing and killing innocents.
“Or,” the general said, “your slate could be wiped clean. If, and only if, you bring my son back to me. Alive.”
“Clean?” Andi asked. “You mean...”
General Cortas met her eyes. “I will pardon you for your crimes. Lift your death sentence. You could return to Arcardius, Androma.”
Home, Andi’s mind whispered.
A thousand memories suddenly unlocked, poured into her from the place she’d kept them safely hidden away.
Her mother, twirling in a circle as a silver gown blossomed around her. Her freshly painted nails shining under the chandelier light as she pressed a soft hand to Andi’s cheek and whispered, “My daughter, protecting the general’s heir. A true Arcardian dream.”
Her father, later that night, praising Andi as she blocked his attack. “You’ve been practicing without me,” he said, hands flexing as he lunged forward and she slipped easily past him.
Arcardius, full of warmth and laughter and beauty.
Arcardius, full of Kalee’s screams and blood on Andi’s hands, hot and wrong and...
Andi blocked the memory like a hit, before it could fully form.
For years, she had been a soldier without a home, always on the run, too afraid to slow down for fear that the past would catch up to her. She’d turned herself into a criminal to survive. Set aside her honor in exchange for her life. Now she had a chance to eliminate the past. To find some honest work and stability for her crew.
“That’s it?” she asked. She crossed her arms over her chest.
The general nodded. “That’s it.”
Andi narrowed her eyes. There had to be a catch, some hidden detail that General Cortas wasn’t revealing. But she was out of choices. Her crew was somewhere in this very ship, surrounded by armed guards. One wrong move, and she’d have their blood on her hands, too.
She wouldn’t be able to come back from that.
“Swear it,” Andi said.
The general raised a brow. His lips tightened together.
“Swear it as you once made me swear,” Andi continued. “The Arcardian Vow.”
For a time, General Cortas simply stared at her. She imagined he was living through the same memory she was. A different time, a very different place, the two of them standing face-to-face inside the Shard—a sharp, crystalline tower that captured the sun and cast it across the room like living fire.
“I vow my life and my blood to protect Kalee Cortas,” Andi said.
General Cortas turned to face her, pride blazing in his eyes. She would not let him down.
The memory faded, and Andi met the general’s eyes as he recited the Vow. “I vow my life and my blood to honor the terms of our deal.”
Andi crossed her arms, cuffs clinking together.
“When do we leave?”
The general signaled for the cyborg woman again, who glided back to his side and straightened his sleek jacket as he stood. “I want my son back as soon as possible.”
“My ship needs repairs,” Andi said. “And we’ll need supplies. Enough for twice the haul to the Olen System and back, just in case we run into problems.” The job wasn’t going to take that long, but she might as well get supplies while she could.
“You’ll have what you need,” General Cortas said with a curt nod.
“I’ll also need more ammunition,” Andi said, remembering her promise to Lira before this all began. They would need it if they encountered the Olen System’s Rover ships. “There’s no telling what Queen Nor will throw at us once we gain entry to her system, let alone when we reach Lunamere.”
At that, the general smiled and looked not at Andi, but at Dex.
“The bounty hunter will take care of that for you,” General Cortas said, his voice dripping with sick satisfaction, “since he’ll be joining you on your mission.”
KLAREN
Year Sixteen
THE GIRL STOOD in her tower, bathed in darkness.
So many years she’d waited. So many dreams she’d endured.
The girl had grown, eighteen years strong. Tonight, she was a willing, worthy sacrifice, with blood the color of the silver weapon hidden in the folds of her cloak.
She could feel, more than see, the other Yielded around her. A trio of bodies each to her left and to her right as they all watched the Conduit swirl far below.
The girl lifted her chin a little higher. She would not tremble, like the Yielded to her left. She would not boast, like the Yielded to her right.
Tonight, she would conquer the Yielding.
And then she would conquer the world beyond this tower, the wind at her back, the fire of hope igniting inside her veins. From the moment of her birth, the girl had known it would be her path to pave.
Her journey to take, through the Conduit.
“When will it begin?” one of the others asked. “When will we be chosen?”
The girl waited, watching the swirling sea below. It spread as far as she could see, a blanket of black, made thicker by the absence of the moon.
She sensed it a moment before it began.
“There,”