“We’re still hours out.”
“Well, do your best. There’s one more thing…they’ve stormed the prison. I think they’re going to execute Cassius.”
Sevro and I exchange a look. “You need to find Sefi and stay with her,” I say. “We’ll be there soon.”
“Find Sefi? Darrow…she’s leading them.”
My assault shuttle lands on the auxiliary deck of the Morning Star where Mustang was supposed to meet us. She’s not there. Neither are the Golds she was rescuing. A coterie of Sons of Ares waits for us instead, led by Theodora. She carries no weapon and looks out of place surrounded by the armored men, but they defer to her. She tells me what’s happened. My uncle’s death sparked several small fights that escalated into shootings on both sides. Now several ships roil with conflict.
“Mustang has been taken by Sefi’s men, along with Cassius and the rest of the highColor prisoners, Darrow,” Theodora announces, assessing the rest of my lieutenants.
“Gorydamn savages,” Victra mutters. “If they kill her this is done.”
“They won’t kill her,” I say. “Sefi knows Mustang’s on her side.”
“Why would she do this?” Holiday asks.
“Justice,” Victra says, drawing a look from Sevro.
“No,” I say. “No I think it’s something else altogether.”
“Gorydamn marvelous.” Victra nods back to space. “Looks like the Telemanuses are intent on slagging this all up.” Another shuttle taxis into the hangar behind us. We gather as it lands. Storming down the ramp before it even sets down, jumping to deck is the whole Telemanus clan. Daxo, Kavax, Thraxa, two other sisters I haven’t met land heavily behind them. Armed to the teeth, though Kavax’s arm is still in a sling. Behind them come thirty more of their House Golds. It’s a bloodydamn army.
“They’re going to get us all killed,” Holiday says. At my side, Sevro blinks up at the disembarking war party.
“Death begets death begets death…,” he murmurs.
“Kavax, what the hell are you doing?” I ask as his family crosses the hangar.
“Virginia needs our help,” he booms, not breaking his pace until I cut him off, blocking his way deeper into the ship. For a moment I think he’ll go through me. “We will not leave her to the mercy of savages.”
“I told you to stay on your ship.”
“Unfortunately we take orders from Virginia, not you,” Daxo says. “We know the ramifications of being here. But we will do what we must to protect our family.”
“Mustang even told you not to storm in here with knights.”
“The situation has changed,” Kavax rumbles.
“You want this to turn into a war? You want our fleet to shatter? The fastest way you do that is marching in there with a show of Gold force.”
“We will not let her die,” Kavax says.
“And what if they kill her because of you?” I ask. That’s the only thing that gives him pause. “What if they cut her throat when you storm in there?” I step close so he can see the fear on my face too and I can speak just loud enough for Daxo to hear as well. “Listen to me, Kavax, the problem with that is that you leave the Obsidian only one choice. Fight back. And you know they can. Let me handle this and we’ll get her back. Don’t and we’ll be standing over her casket tomorrow.”
Kavax looks back to his lean son, always the moderating influence, to see what he thinks. And to my relief Daxo nods. “Very well,” Kavax says. “But I will go with you, Reaper. Children, await my summons. If I fall, come with all fury.”
“Yes, father,” they say.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I turn back to my men. “Where’s Sevro?”
—
Sevro snuck away while we argued, to what purpose I don’t know. We rush after him through the corridors, Victra behind us. Holiday leads, taking information from other Sons of Ares in through the optic implant in her eye. Her men have spotted the mob in the main hangar. They’re holding a trial for Cassius for the murder of several dozen Sons of Ares, and, of course, Ares himself. No sign of Mustang. Where is she? She was supposed to stay out of sight. Meet us if she could. Did they catch her? Worse? When we reach the corridor that leads to the hangar, there’s such a press of people we can barely get through, shoving Reds and Obsidians out of the way as I pass.
They’re all shouting and pushing. Over their heads, near the center of the hangar, I see several dozen Obsidian and Reds astride the twenty-meter-high walkway that spans part of the hangar, high over the crowd. Sefi’s at their center. Seven Golds hang dead from the walkway, suspended by rubber cable ligature, feet dangling five meters above the crowd, scalps hewn off. Aureate spines are tougher than average humans. Each of these men and women would have died horribly over several minutes from cerebral anorexia, watching the crowd beneath them curse and spit at them and hurl lugnuts and wrenches and bottles. Blood clots in a long ribbon cover their chins to their chests. Tongues removed by Sefi the Quiet. Cassius and several other prisoners await their own executions upon the walkway, kneeling beside their captors, bloody and beaten. Mustang is not with them, thank Jove. They’ve stripped Cassius to the waist and carved a bloody SlingBlade across his broad chest.
“Sefi!” I shout, but I can’t be heard. Can’t see Sevro anywhere. There’s more than twenty-five thousand in a space meant for ten. Many are armed. Some wounded from the battle the week prior. All pressing into the hangar to watch the execution. The Obsidian stand titanic amidst the masses, like great boulders amidst a sea of lowColors. I never should have condensed most of the wounded and rescued crews into this hotbed of grief. The crowd has realized I’m here now and they part for me and begin to chant my name as if they think I’ve come to see justice done. The barbarity of it chills me. One of the men holding Cassius down is a Green tech who gave me coffee on Phobos. Most of the others I don’t recognize.
One by one those Sons nearby recognize my presence. The quiet spreads around me.
“Sefi!” I snarl. “Sefi.” At last she hears me. “What are you doing?”
“What you will not,” she calls down in her own language, not in wrath, but acceptance that she performs an unsavory but necessary deed. Like a spirit of vengeance has drifted up from Hel. Her white hair hangs long behind her. Her knife is bloody from the tongues it has claimed. And to think I vouched for her. Let her name this ship. But just because a lion lets you pet it doesn’t mean it’s tame. Kavax is horrified by the scene. He’s almost ready to call to his children, and would if Victra did not grip his arm and talk him down. There’s fear in her eyes, too. Not just at the sight above, but at what could happen to her here. I shouldn’t have brought the Golds with me.