“You’re joking. You asked for a rescue, and you’re dressed for bed?”
“You’re not wearing a shirt.”
“Go put shoes on.”
“I don’t have shoes.”
“You don’t have shoes?”
“They gave me these stupid slipper things—took away my boots and my flight suit.” He spreads his arms. Apparently the robe has ridiculous billowy sleeves.
“There’s broken glass everywhere.”
“That’s on you.” A sudden thump at the door followed by the sounds of fleeing feet sends Gal whirling around. “The hell was that?”
Ollins, I think, glowing with pride, but it’s only going to distract Gal. “We don’t have time for this,” I say instead.
“Agreed.” Gal crosses the room in two quick strides, his robe flapping as he sweeps up to the window. Some of the glass fell inward, and his eyes drop to the shards sticking out of the carpet.
I lean out into the room, the grappling line at my waist keeping me from toppling into the minefield below, and stretch out my arms. “C’mere,” I mutter. The chaos is fading outside. Soon someone’s going to check on their pet princeling.
Gal wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug.
I freeze. “I’m not hugging you, moron—I’m trying to pick you up.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s go. Time’s wasting.” Before Gal can get another word in, I slip his grip and duck, hoisting him up on my shoulder. He’s way heavier than I expected, even without boots and a flight suit weighing him down. My knees buckle, and I let out an involuntary grunt.
“Ruttin’ hell, we’re high up,” Gal mutters as he gets his first good look at the drop awaiting us. I lean back, and he stiffens, his hands finding purchase on my ascension harness as his knees clench around my rib cage. My arm tightens around his waist, and my fingers fumble on the winch controls.
Deeper in the room, I hear the click of a doorknob turning.
I don’t need to be told twice. I jump clear of the sill, punching the winch release, and Gal bites down on a scream as the ground comes flying up to meet us. I land hard, the extra weight nearly knocking me to my knees in the shattered glass that surrounds us. We sway forward, and I plant my forearm against the barracks to brace us.
One breath.
Two breaths.
The thunder of Gal’s heart slams against my shoulder.
Drums in my ears.
Not again. I won’t let that little voice that tried to convince me to fall back with Seely into my head, no matter how loud it shouts. Before any of my doubts have time to sink in, someone up above shouts, “He’s gone!”
“Time to run,” Gal whispers urgently.
I unsnap the grappling line from my harness and leave it, staggering three steps clear of the glass before I dare to let Gal down. He leans against me as he gets his legs underneath him, and I glance up at the window again. There’s a shadow up there—no doubt one of the guards sticking their head out. We’re cloaked in the darkness down here, tucked against the wall, but it’s only a matter of time before they spot us.
But just when I’m certain we’re hosed, a side door slams open and five naked cadets go shrieking into the night.
Gal stares after them, his mouth hanging open as I drag him into the barracks. “What did you do?”
“What I had to.”
“At the door, up there, that was—”
“Someone making academy history. Ollins, I think.”
He beams and pats me on the back. “I don’t deserve you.”
I flash a taut smile that’s probably invisible in the darkness. “Let’s move. We can make it to the room in—”
“The room, seriously? We don’t have time—”
“Clothes, Gal. Supplies. Shoes.”
He glances down at his bare feet and his flimsy robe. Then at my bare chest. His eyebrows lift. “Fair point,” he says. “We make it fast. They’d expect us to bolt for a ship right away anyway.”
“Now you’re getting it. We gear up, lay low, wait for the chaos to die down, and then…” I trail off, waiting for him to fill in the rest. What his plan is, whom he needs to contact, where he needs to go to be safe again.
But Gal only turns tail and starts running.
* * *
—
We make it back to the room unspotted, but I’m not celebrating our luck yet. I lock the door behind us, and by the time I turn around, Gal’s already stripped down and started rooting in his drawers. “Now what?” he asks, pulling out a primly folded pair of pants.
“You’re asking me?” I sputter.
He turns, surprised by the harshness of my tone.
“Look at yourself. If it weren’t for the way everyone’s losing their goddamn minds, I wouldn’t even believe you’re a prince. You have no plan, no backups, no…sense.”
“I…” Gal stares at the pants in his hand, plucking absently at a bit of lint. “I have you,” he mumbles. “I was supposed to have more. There was a whole system to protect me, and it fell apart the moment I actually needed it. But you were there. I don’t know what’s happening right now. I don’t know where’s safe, or what I’m supposed to do, or even who to trust. But I have you. Right?”
My heart stutters. Gal’s been shaken. Yesterday he had twenty people gunning for him, and gods know how many more enemies lurk in these halls. The sleepers meant to protect him have disappeared. I almost tell him what I found in Jana’s room, but I know it’s only going to worsen his focus, and I need him sharp. There’s nothing we can do for her when we’ve barely got a plan for ourselves.
Something larger is in motion, sinister mechanics turning with Gal at the center. He’s spent the past two and a half years training as a soldier and a leader, and in the span of a day he’s been torn away from everything he was working toward, stuffed into a fancy robe and slippers, and placed under guard to wait until he’s called on.
Gal’s had his life stolen from him. He’s just hoping there’s a way to put it back together.
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Put your damn pants on. We’ll figure this out.”
He follows orders, but I know him well enough to know I haven’t put his mind at ease. If the way his eyes fix pointedly on the floor is any indication, Gal’s thoughts are eating him alive. “Ettian,” he says as he grabs a T-shirt and yanks it over his head. “I can jack a shuttle by myself and get out of here.”