Suddenly, on a quick gust of breath… “Starbase 12,” Bridgebane said. “You’ll never reach her.”
“Starbase 12?” My eyes widened. Despair, hope, and impossible rebel missions crashed inside me like a cyclone. Breaking Reena Ahern out of Imperial Headquarters already seemed impossible. Getting Shiori out would only make it harder. But could we do both? I wouldn’t go in for Ahern and not try to save Shiori.
“Is she okay?” I steeled myself for any answer.
“She’s sedated. She bit through her own wrists in an attempted suicide. I believe it was to eliminate any incentive to come after her.”
The bottom of my stomach dropped out with a heaving rush that left me reeling. I stumbled back from the harsh slap of his words, unsteady.
Shade was suddenly there, propping me upright. His furious gaze drilled into Bridgebane. “You couldn’t have softened that up a bit?” he growled.
I breathed hard, set loose with no gravity. The image of Shiori—teeth red, wrists open—seared my eyes like the tears that built behind them. Nothing I knew about her made me think that was a falsehood.
“She’s stable now,” Bridgebane added more gently.
Shiori’s screamed “Don’t come for me! I forbid it!” rang in my head, an echo I heard daily. Hourly. She’d known I wouldn’t listen. That I’d make plans to free her. Did that make this my fault? Gray hair stained crimson. Papery skin draining of color. Eyes that had been sightless for years, now wide open and waiting for Miko.
I inhaled, loud and shaky.
My uncle reached for me, his brow creasing. It was the weirdest thing when he wrapped a big, warm hand around my bare elbow and squeezed. It didn’t feel…awful.
“She’s my grandmother,” I whispered. “Can you protect her?”
He looked at me oddly. “Your grandmother died when you were six. You never knew Caitrin’s mother.”
No. The Overseer wouldn’t let Mom’s family anywhere near us. Only Nathaniel Bridgebane had done something, said something, to get himself into the inner circle.
“She is.” My voice cracked, nearly breaking me. “She’s my family, and I love her.” A tear spilled from my eye. I felt it track down my cheek and swatted it away, blinking rapidly.
My uncle let go of my arm and stared at me, clearly horrified. Did any sign of weakness appall him? Well, too bad. We couldn’t all be dead-eyed jerks who deserted the people who needed them.
Shade tucked me closer, offering the comfort I needed. I tried to shake off the lingering feel of Bridgebane’s hand on my elbow. Shade had the right to touch me. My uncle didn’t.
“What about a hint?” Shade asked. “Something to go on—if we decide to try something stupid.”
I stood up straighter, a tiny seed of hope wanting to take root inside me. If Bridgebane helped us, it could mean the key to two cages.
“Don’t try. It’s impossible. You’ll end up captured. Or dead.” Bridgebane looked at each of us in turn, forgetting to treat Shade as though he didn’t exist anymore. “I might not be able to help you.”
“We won’t ask you to.” Possibilities started to shoot through my mind like missiles—a chaotic barrage of risk versus potential reward. “But help us now. You must know something.”
My uncle’s face twisted. A low growl rumbled out from between his clenched teeth. “I shouldn’t have told you. You’re just like Caitrin. Too stubborn.”
“Then help me.” I wasn’t above pleading. Part of me couldn’t believe Nathaniel Bridgebane and I were having an almost normal, almost civil conversation. Another part of me didn’t even feel the distance of years and desertion between us, or the fact that he was a Dark Watch general and I was a rebel Nightchaser. All I knew was that he brought out a deep ache inside me—made worse by fear for Shiori—and that the more we talked, the rawer and more uncertain I felt about everything.
Bridgebane shook his head. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
I scoffed, the sound as dirty and icy as a comet.
“More hurt,” he said, his jaw flexing.
“Starbase 12,” I encouraged. “I remember my way around. I know how to get to the three incarceration levels through the back stairwells. I remember the U-shaped cellblocks. I even know where the cameras are located.”
He glared at me, silent, his blue eyes burning. He believed me. He’d shown me all that when I was a kid. Anything to get me away from the Overseer, even if that meant wandering Imperial Headquarters from top to bottom and front to back.
“I won’t give up,” I vowed. “Contrary to you, I’d rather die than abandon my family.”
Sanaa Mwende sliced a knife through the air so fast it whistled. The blade landed under my jaw before I could blink. I froze. Shade sucked in a breath, tensing. I had no idea where the weapon had come from, or how she’d produced it so quickly. None of us moved. My pulse beat against the sharp, hard metal. The lieutenant’s expression promised all kinds of retribution for my cutting words.
“You shoot your mouth off about things you don’t understand. I don’t like it.” She had a slight accent I hadn’t noticed before with how little she’d spoken, enunciating her words very precisely.
I breathed shallowly. My eyes darted to my uncle.
“Stand down, Sanaa.” Bridgebane uttered a world-weary sound that might almost have made sympathy crack open inside me if I didn’t have a knife to my throat.
The blade pricked like a bee sting. I didn’t dare swallow.
“She’s disrespectful.” Mwende didn’t lower her weapon, which directly defied my uncle’s order.
“Have I given her any reason to respect me?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard. Frowning, I eased back for some breathing room between my neck and Sanaa and her knife skills. I’d loved my mother unconditionally, but Uncle Nate had been the person I’d respected most in the whole galaxy—until he’d bought into the Overseer’s crap and dumped Mom and me.
Mwende finally stepped back, sheathing her blade in one smooth motion. “People cannot know what you do not tell them.”
Well, don’t be cryptic or anything. I scowled. The lieutenant’s chin lifted, her assessing once-over carrying a hint of challenge. If she thought I was going to ask, she was mistaken. Whatever explanations Bridgebane had for his behavior toward me or anyone else in the galaxy were going to have to die with these two, because I didn’t give two fucks.
Maybe one fuck, but not two.
My lips tightening, I touched my neck and glanced at my fingers. No blood. Mwende hadn’t even broken the skin, despite the quick jab toward my jugular. “Now that we’re done waving knives around, can we please get back to Shiori? A code? A guard shift schedule? Anything? I know you don’t want me to die—thanks, by the way”—my uncle’s eyes narrowed at my tone—“so a hint would be really helpful.”