Since I couldn’t see where we were going, I looked down at Vesper. Perhaps it was my imagination or the pain of my injury, but her eyes seemed both darker and brighter than before, the blue more intense and the silver flecks more vivid. Even more telling, psionic power surged off her, the sensation somehow cool and soothing, despite the intense heat surrounding us.
Who in the bloody stars was this woman?
“Kyrion! Kyrion! Come in!” Julieta’s voice echoed through my helmet, although it sounded weak and far away. “Where are you? We have to go! Now! Kyrion—”
Her voice abruptly cut off, and static filled my helmet, along with my earbud. Julieta’s voice didn’t sound again, and neither did Zane’s. Of course not. He would love for me to be killed so he could take over as the leader of the Arrows. I thought of the shadowy figure who’d fired those green energy bolts at me. Perhaps Zane had grabbed a Techwave weapon and finally decided to take matters into his own hands. He wouldn’t be the first Arrow to try to settle a score under the cover of battle. If so, he couldn’t have picked a better spot. This Magma field was literally melting down.
But I kept plodding along and clutching Vesper for support. I didn’t know who she was or what her agenda might be, but for right now, I needed her, even though I still had no idea where she thought we were going.
Some of the smoke rolled away, and I spotted a blitzer in the distance. So that’s where she was heading. Smart.
All around us, more and more cracks opened wide, and plumes of lava shot up into the air like red-hot fountains, but Vesper’s gaze remained locked on the ship. More than once, I veered to the left, trying to take a more direct route to the blitzer, but Vesper tightened her grip and steered me back onto the path she wanted. Somehow she knew exactly where to put her feet and when to zig instead of zag, and she kept us away from the worst of the lava, although I still felt as though I was seconds—and inches—away from melting into a puddle of skin and bones.
Suspicion filled me about who and what Vesper was, but I had no way of proving my theory. Besides, it wasn’t important right now.
Eventually, we made it to the blitzer, but the cargo bay was closed, which meant we had no easy way to get on board.
“Dammit!” Vesper snarled.
She released me and moved forward, trying to find another way onto the ship. I reached out with my power, scanning the blitzer. The image of a green button popped into my mind, and I punched my fist forward, as though I was standing in front of that button and hitting it with my actual hand, even though it was on the interior of the ship.
A light on the side of the blitzer flashed green, and the cargo bay ramp descended.
Vesper whirled around to me. “How did you do that?”
I had always been good at opening doors and the like, even when I couldn’t physically see or touch them. But I didn’t feel like explaining the finer points of my psionic abilities, so I ignored her and staggered forward.
Vesper darted in front of me. “Come on!” she yelled. “Move faster!”
I growled in response, but I churned my legs a little faster and plodded up the ramp. Vesper was already inside. The second I stepped into the cargo bay, she slapped the green button, and the ramp began to close.
“Wait!” someone yelled. “Wait for me!”
A Techwaver was running in this direction, moving as fast as their black-armored legs would carry them. Vesper’s hand hovered over the button, as though she was going to make the ramp descend again.
I reached down, plucked my blaster from its thigh holster, and shot the Black Scarab in the head. They dropped to the ground, and the lava quickly covered their body.
Vesper gaped at me, but I ignored her shock. Instead, I glanced around the cargo bay, searching for enemies, but the pilot must have fled when the ship crashed, because I didn’t see or sense anyone else on board.
I looked over at Vesper, and my finger tightened on the blaster trigger. She stared at me, her body tense and still, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking about doing. Maybe she did, given her power. Either way, she was a conscript who would most likely kill me the second I passed out, which was going to happen sooner rather than later. Even now, I was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Better to kill her now rather than wait for her to betray me the way Francesca had—
The blitzer rocked violently from side to side. I stumbled up against the cargo bay wall, and the blaster slipped out of my hand. I cursed, but I was too weak to bend down and retrieve it.
Vesper rushed past me, sprinted to the front of the ship, and dropped into the pilot’s seat. She glanced over the console, her gaze flicking from one button to another. After a few seconds, her face brightened, as though she’d just solved a complicated puzzle.
“A ZMR43. Excellent,” she said, a satisfied purr in her voice.
She leaned forward and started hitting buttons. The thrusters engaged, the blitzer jerked up off the ground, and I slammed into the wall again. The ship hovered in midair, rocking from side to side, as though it had been damaged by the crash and wasn’t quite sure it had the energy to take off.
Vesper kept hitting buttons. “Come on, ship,” she muttered. “You can do it. You can get us out of here . . .”
She kept muttering, cursing and encouraging the ship in equal measures as though it was a living thing and not just a hunk of metal and wires welded together.
With a reluctant groan, the blitzer lifted a little higher. Vesper threw a lever forward, pushing the thrusters to maximum capacity. Then, with another, even louder and more reluctant groan, the ship zoomed through the sky, leaving the exploding lava field behind.
When the ship quit shaking and the ride smoothed out, I pushed away from the wall and stumbled over to some observation windows located in the middle of the vessel between the pilot’s seat in the front and the cargo bay in the back.
Down below, all the cracks and chasms had widened exponentially, and lava had completely consumed the battlefield—bodies, blasters, and all. The gelatinous mass looked like a red sun that had lost its shape and was oozing everywhere.
As an Arrow, I had been through countless battles, but the sight of all that lava made my gut twist. Fire was always a bad way to go. Not that there were any good ways, as my parents had proven. Whether it was slow and drawn-out like my mother’s, or quick and surprising like my father’s, death was still death, and there was no coming back from it.
The ship rocked from side to side again, and Vesper muttered something about volcanic eruptions and unstable air currents. Since she seemed to know what she was doing, at least with the autopilot’s help, I moved away from the windows and stumbled back toward the cargo bay.
The blitzer was shaped like an old-fashioned arrow, an older Zimmer model that was larger and more powerful and comfortable than the newer, smaller, inferior Kent ships. The pilot and copilot chairs and controls were at the tip of the arrow on this top main deck, then came a long, shaftlike corridor with several rooms branching off it, and finally the cargo bay fanned out like a tuft of feathers on the end.
I stuck my head into each area I passed, and lights automatically clicked on. Sleeping quarters with beds that could be folded up into the walls. A bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower. A small kitchen. A slightly larger dining area. The lower decks would be more of the same, albeit with maintenance and storage areas.