Lapis ground her palms into her tearing eyes as Tovi guided her, Rin, and the two khentauree through the workstation’s offices and to the lounge where, he said, everyone congregated and watched the news from Dentheria. All others in her group had tasks to complete, which included Scand translating for Mint and Tia, helping the Black Hats get the two shanks settled, and checking on Fraze and the Drakes. Since she wanted nothing to do with the mercs-turned-guards and their surly leader Kayleb, she volunteered to tell her brother they had arrived—and dragged a nervous Rin along with her.

Chiddle and Tuft joined them, though she had the impression the ice khentauree’s curiosity about the terron prompted his presence. Tovi, after all, was a much smaller lizard than wagon-sized Mint and Tia, with the air of a scholar rather than a fighter surrounding him.

She yawned and stretched, wishing she could doze another day or so. Exhaustion finally struck, and she had fallen asleep for most of the flight, but she still felt weary enough her mood remained in tatters.

Tovi paused to remove the four, form-fitting black gloves with rough undersides, designed to keep him from slipping around on the icy landing platform, but which squeaked on the shiny tile of the workstation’s interior. He shook them out before raising a claw and signing.

“Yeah, we’s good,” Rin answered, taking the gloves so the terron could walk and talk without difficulty. “Well, as good as we c’n be, considerin’.”

Tovi signed, his claws whisking through the words, and Rin rubbed at his forehead, pained. “Yeah, we saw it go down. Were on a roof, not near ‘r nothin’, but ‘twere disturbin’ anyway.”

Tovi’s tail twitched, and he glanced back at her, then the khentauree, his green eyes tearing. His teal scales dulled, and she pondered the sad reaction for humans he did not know.

“Have you seen the clips?” she asked.

He nodded and signed.

“He says he thought it were a special effect, like he sees in pictures from Meergevenis,” Rin said. “But then a woman appeared onscreen ‘n he realized ‘twas on a newscast. He’s wonderin’, how’d somethin’ like that happen? Seems unreal.”

“It’s called dereliction of caring by Dentherion leaders,” Lapis said. “They knew the ’shroud was running out of aquatheerdaal, and they didn’t think enough about the people of Trave to move the damn thing. Too bad for them, I guess, since a lot of the military leaders who made that decision were in the Leads when the ship went down.”

Tovi signed and pointed to the end of the hallway with his nose.

“Yeah, we’s met Amarie,” Rin said. “She’s not had a good time of it. Think she lost lots of people she knows who lived in the city ‘round the Leads.” He nudged Tovi’s shoulder with his finger. “I’d get ready. Dagby gots a scar from his temple to his jaw. Yer mom’s gonna get worried, when she sees it.”

Tovi frowned, his tongue flicking out and vibrating, and signed. The rat shrugged.

“He fell asleep afore I could ask about it. He went after a bad shank, though, so it weren’t no fun chase.”

The lounge was a room the size of a theater, not a cozy space with a checkered game board and bookshelves. Soft sofas and chairs sat near tables that held drinks and food. The seating did not match the darker brown décor slid into the walls, so Lapis assumed the workstation staff had grabbed what they could from other rooms and carted them to this one.

She glanced about, realizing she had not appreciated Tovi’s use of the word “everyone”.

Workstation personnel, Cassa, and the Black Hats she expected to fill the room; she anticipated rebels, the Minq, and Ghost. But representatives from other gangs and syndicates? She recognized Fyor and Copper, who likely represented the new Jiy community centers, Yedin and his grandfather Emmer to voice farmers’ concerns, a terron she did not know but who must be there on Nathala’s behalf, and several individuals who led smaller communities, like Granna Cup representing Underville, and the heads of the wagonwrights’ and dockworkers’ guilds. And, of course, Lord Adrastos, who had his nose in everything.

All eyes focused on the wide screen that hung from the wall opposite them. Of course a Dentherion scientific workstation had access to Dentherion news, but Stars’ bad luck, her ride with Tuft played on it. Still, she had to admit, their hazy, ethereal appearance within the ice and snow shroud as they took down the Dentherion, gave them a mysterious yet heroic aura.

Rin laughed. “They’s enchanted, Lady,” he said.

Faelan whipped around, then bounded up from the couch where he sat with Jetta. She did not care about the crowd; she hugged him with as much enthusiasm and relief as he returned. Then she winced; if he hugged harder, her ribs would break.

Ghost, who stood behind the seating, pivoted to face them. “You are Tuft?”

Tuft cocked a hoof back, tapped it against the floor, and bowed his head; Lapis had seen similar shows of respect in old-fashioned holiday plays as a child. Their conversation continued in silence as human and terron eyes riveted to the Shivers’ khentauree; with his flowing hair and tail, he looked different enough to pique curiosity. How did he, a mechanical being, have features that fluttered in non-existent wind and looked like thin ice threads?

Faelan stepped back as Rin tried to get past; he snagged his coat hood.

“But—”

“Oh no, we are going to talk.”

“’Cause you gots other things t’ do—”

“And I’m certain Jetta can cover for me.”

“Y’know the Lady’s safe, ‘n I had a hand in that.”

“Uh-huh.”

The rat looked at her; Lapis ignored him. She had done many stupid things in her younger years, and Faelan had lectured her on the ones he knew about. Tovi looked back and forth, then signed, his eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah, I knows he already talked t’ you, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Is Scand with Mint and Tia?” Faelan asked.

Tovi nodded.

Big brother herded sullen little brother out of the room. “Good luck,” Lapis called, her voice as airy as an early spring day. She had not thought about it, but Scand must have assumed being a dutiful translator would save him from Faelan’s admonishment; good try, but no.

A rumbling laugh echoed in the room. Varr stood in another doorway, arms crossed, eyeing her with an arched brow and a knowing grin.

“You can yell at them, too,” she offered. She knew how guilty the gruff man could make someone who endangered themselves through thoughtlessness or stupidity. Of course, Rin was older and taller than five-year-old her, who pouted and stared at his knee while he reprimanded her.

“Faelan learned from the best.” His pride made her smile. He pointed at the screen, and she firmed her shoulders and straightened her back. She may only reach his chest despite years of growing, but she had vast experience explaining herself to him.

“Tuft and I were a wondrous distraction that allowed the khentauree to escape Torc Bedan and our group to get Fraze to the rollers,” she said with prim aplomb. “We were doing hero things, and we looked cool doing it. You noticed, right?”

She did not quite know how to take the laughter, since she did not think the room mocked her. Jetta rose and hugged her, nearly as tightly as Faelan.

“Don’t discount how afraid those of us who know you were, when we saw the footage,” she murmured.

“Facing the modded scrub wasn’t as terrifying as being shot at by the skyshroud.”

Maybe she should have kept quiet, because the awe, disbelief, and aghast worry washed over her and pummeled her shyer self into a shadow-swathed mental corner. She did not even know half the people sitting in the room! Why care about their opinions?

Tovi widened his eyes before trotting to Cassa, whose gaze stuck to the entrance they used like glue, anticipatory. She wore a deep red, form-fitting tunic, a fuzzy shoulder wrap, and tight black pants stuffed into knee-high boots. Makeup smoothed her brown skin, and red highlighted her deep brown eyes and full lips. Her black hair fell to the sides of her head in three neat braids, with the rest pulled back in a curly tail; fashionable as always, but Lapis suspected she dressed up extra nice to welcome Dagby home.

Her son tapped her knee with the tip of a claw, signed, and she frowned. “What?” She popped up and looked at Lapis, worried. “Dagby’s hurt?”

“He’s got a neat new scar.” Lapis ran her finger from her forehead to her jaw. Distraction Dagby—she would thank him later. Maybe some tickets to the Night Market? He could take Cassa to dinner, then they could visit the upper story for a theater performance and snuggle on a back bench, savoring each other’s company.

Cassa bit her lip and hustled out of the room, patting her on the shoulder in greeting, but more concerned about her love interest. Granna Cup rose, grimness unable to cover her worry, and followed; Lapis did not envy Dagby explaining to lover and grandmother that yes, he was fine. Such a change, for a once-chaser who selected the most dangerous stakes to pay for his brainbreak habit.

Tovi took his mother’s seat, wormed about, and curled up, content. A part of her wondered if he had not mentioned the injury, just so Cassa would vacate and he could lounge in a pre-warmed chair. Despite the crowd, the room had a touch of chill.

Varr jerked his bearded chin at her and disappeared into the hallway. She glanced about for the khentauree, realized they had left, and sighed. Ghost and Chiddle had visited the workstation often enough, they knew where to go and how to get there. They did not need her company.

She strode after the man, her insides twirling a little dance. Other than Faelan’s concern and a debriefing, she had not expected much after arriving, but if Varr was at the workstation, then so was Midir. The heir to the Jilvaynan throne’s presence added a weight and seriousness to the meetings that neither her brother nor the Minq could bring.

Jetta kept her step, smoothing her long, darkest-black hair from her face before clasping her hands behind her back. “I think Faelan’s a bit jealous,” she said, her deep umber eyes twinkling.

“Jealous?”

“He once got to go on adventures, succeeding by the tips of his fingers. Now he sits in a cold meeting room listening to droning reports.”

She chuckled at that. When they were younger, Faelan enjoyed being the adult-oriented, serious young man, but he did things she knew the adults never discovered. At four, she accidentally happened upon him talking about taking a chaser stake, a no-no for his class and his age, and she never breathed a word of it after he handed her a fat cupcake with icing as tall as the cake. She was such an easy bribe as a kid.

“He’s welcome to be a distraction next time,” she said. “He can banter in the frozen snow with both Dentherion soldiers and the military khentauree.”

“The military khentauree.” Jetta’s amusement faded into unease. “Ghost said they pose a danger.”

“They do. Vision, the Cloister's leader, said that military khentauree are programmed to find a commander, and now that Torc Bedan is compromised by ‘the enemy’, they’re searching for someone to tell them what to do. She doesn’t know where they may go in search of a leader, but Ragehill’s an old Taangin base. They might attempt to travel there. She said they consider other khentauree the enemy, so she wants to get Ragehill, the Cloister and the Shivers ready for an attack.” She sighed with her lower lip out, ruffling her bangs. “Considering the trouble khentauree have with cold, I don’t think they’ll make it as far as Ragehill, but they may try to reach a closer base in northern Dentheria or Jilvayna.”

“I wonder if Vision knows the locations of other abandoned outposts.”

“I don’t know, but you can ask. Or ask the khentauree here. I bet Ghost knows if Chiddle and Sanna don’t. Jhor was searching for old Taangin tech which led him to Ambercaast, so he might have a list as well.”

Varr waited for them outside a bright doorway, thick fingers thrumming on his belt as he scowled into the room. She heard faint words; Midir, who sounded piiisssed, and Jo Ban, whose crisp anger could slice a rock in two. What happened?

A fuzzy response, sounding like it came through a comms device, sent a shiver up her spine. Jetta hastened her step and whisked into the room; Lapis stopped next to Vaar, the need to stand in the aura of his protective strength overwhelming. Her cautious mental self cried in terror that another new, horrible thing had transpired. Had they not experienced enough disasters to last a century or so?

“This is not optional,” Midir bit out. He leaned over his knees, bringing his face close to a camera trained on him and Jo Ban. Displayed on a screen below it was Requet’s pinched, petulant face.

Requet.

Varr clapped a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place. She could not thump the carefully coiffured ass through the screen, but that did not mean she should not try.

“But I can’t, Krios!” Requet whined. “Markweza—”

“I don’t give a damn about a foreign royal’s tantrum. You want to land that thing, you do what I say.” Midir pressed his thumb and index finger together, punctuating each hissed word with a jab. “To. Every. Exacting. Detail.”

“Is Vivina with him?” Lapis asked. She may not have either Midir or Jo Ban’s sharp fury, but she could stir their bubbling pot.

“Good question. Where’s Vivina, Requet?”

Requet squinted, trying to see her in what must look like a dark doorway to him. Lapis snarled at the sulky man, reminded that he thought his Second Council dad and family wealth would salvage his reputation and smooth his mistakes. She did not care if the skyshroud he conscripted crashed with him on board, but Vivina and the Black Hats forced to travel with him did not deserve that fate.

“Lapis?” came the shocked call from off-screen.

Her knuckles cracked and frozen rage descended as Varr sighed in vehement disgust and flipped his black bangs from his eyes. Outed to not only Requet and whoever else was in the ‘shroud’s comms room, but to the Minq terrboss, by a fool woman who knew better than to reveal a rebel’s name in mixed company—especially since she knew Lapis went by Lady Lanth outside the rebellion.

“I take that as a yes,” Midir muttered. “Fine. And Requet? If there’s the tiniest hint you’ve contacted Gall, I will personally make my condolences to your father.” He motioned to Neassa, who sat in a corner and watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes and a detached air. “My assistant will ask the questions. You will answer them. Any hesitation, and she will end the conversation and you will remain stranded on that monstrosity, waiting for it to run out of power. And if you think to treat her ill, remember that she’s Terrboss Jano’s granddaughter. He is less forgiving than I.” He rose in a flourish of dark red lordship robes and anger, Jo Ban with him.

“I’ll keep you company,” Jetta said, donning a hard mask as Neassa settled into the seat Midir just vacated. If Requet tried to vacillate, the rebel would keep him talking.

Lapis stepped back and turned on her heel to head down the hall, not certain where to go, but committed to finding a place she could curl into a cold-miserable ball and be by herself. She should have kept her mouth shut, she should have—

“Your parents were similarly sentimental.”

She paused and glanced back at Jo Ban; a snow-soft smile of reminiscence replaced his anger. “Sentimental?”

“Your mother wore a lapis lazuli wedding ring.” He laughed, subdued and melancholy. “Others mocked her for it. They bragged about their expensive jewelry and said your father couldn’t afford a proper token of affection. She reminded them she wanted a lapis ring, that he listened to her and did as she asked. Jealousy followed her after every declaration since those who made fun wished for a lover who cared enough about them, that they would do the same. A unique couple, your parents. The world has not been the same without them.”

She nodded, tears striking before she could quell them. “Thank you.” She swallowed, unable to gather the fortitude to remember her parents right then. “So how much danger did Vivina just put Lady Lanth and her street rats in?”

Midir rubbed his reddened green eyes. “We shall see. I don’t think Requet’s intelligent enough to take advantage of stray information, but I wonder about the markweza.” He caught her step and slipped his arm about her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back, safe and in good health,” he whispered, hugging her.

She hugged him back. She no longer had parents, but she suspected Midir would insert himself in that role when presented with the opportunity. If it eased the guilt and sadness within him over their deaths, then she would accept.

“May not matter,” Varr rumbled. “When Dentheria called the ‘shrouds home, all the Swifts on his stolen vessel switched on autopilot and left. He doesn’t have a way off unless he convinces someone like us to send a craft for him. Might end up a fiery silence keeps them all.”

Considering the information held in the brains of the people on board, she could not see rebels or the Minq letting the ‘shroud crash without evacuating its inhabitants, but she hoped neither Requet nor Vivian realized that. It served them right, to squirm in their self-made Pit for a while.