Page 45 of Cage of Starlight

Tory doesn’t, though. Sena doesn’t. If Riese can’t bring in that Reacher in time, Tory will be dead. “Guns are out there for the taking now .”

“You seem awfully interested in speeding up my timeline.”

“You haven’t told me your timeline. And anyway, what I’m interested in is making sure you and not the Grand General get your hands on whatever’s out there.”

Riese frowns, considering. “It might not be the worst idea. We’ll need to act soon to knock Vantaras off his throne, and it wouldn’t hurt to have more firepower.” Riese steps closer. “You and your friend will be joining us, of course.”

Tory tries not to let the surge of worry and wild satisfaction show. He never considered that he might not be allowed to come. “Hostages?” He lets a wry grin twist his lips.

Riese’s responding smile is blinding. “Insurance. We’ll aim for this evening. For now, I have some work for you.” He gestures to the map of the Compound. “With your help, I don’t think liberating every Seed under their control is out of our grasp anymore.”

That unshakable faith fills him with warmth like it did last night around the campfire.

It blends the joy of success—tonight, they’ll have a communicator —into something nearly ecstatic.

This is what he needs, what he wants. He’s spent so much of his life on the run.

This—people with purpose and a battle worth fighting in—is more than he ever dreamed he could have.

Laughter bubbles up in him. “Just tell me what to do.”

Riese’s smile turns sharp. “You can start by filling in some blanks on these blueprints. And while you do that, I need to have a little chat with Iri, if you’ll excuse me.”

*

Helner.

Sena can’t turn. Can’t breathe. Where Helner is, Kirlov so often follows.

She stands from the boxes she’s using for a chair. “What a surprise to see you here.” He must make a sound, because she laughs. “It’s just me. Sit.”

His hand is frozen on the tent flap. “You’re . . .?”

“Not that sort of doctor, as you well know, but I’ve been taught basic first aid. I spoke to Riese about you.”

It all falls together. “The Reacher he talked about.”

“Bullseye! I saw a chance to spit in your father’s face and took it. Money doesn’t hurt, either.” She gives him an odd smile. “Kinda gutsy of you, joining the enemy. I wouldn’t have thought you capable of surprising me. But come in , come in. I don’t have all day.”

He steps around the mountain of boxes to perch on a cot. An oil lamp flickers on a nearby box, lighting Helner dim gold. Sena rubs his hands together. The rasp of his gloves calms him. “They called you Yized.”

“Did you think Doctor was my first name?”

“But why are you—”

“Here?” She rifles through a box of strange tools and rattling bottles. “Money.”

“Not only that,” Sena says.

Helner laughs, acidic and cruel. “Isn’t it enough?”

No amount of luxury is enough when you’re not free.

It’s why they clashed with each other at the Compound—both forced to hunt and trap people like them, trying in their own small ways to make a difference—Helner by conjuring better, more efficient ways for Seeds to survive battle, and Sena by looking the other way whenever he could.

Helner keeps rummaging until she pulls a kit from the box—marked for use at the Compound.

She opens it without looking at him. “Money is power, Vantaras. Perhaps it hasn’t occurred to you since you’ve had it your whole life, but the money I’ve saved might mean the difference between making a successful bribe or being recaptured and killed if I ever get out.

See, I don’t need to save only myself. My wife is an Eraser.

Made bank adjusting memories for rich folks outside Maran in secret.

Free therapy and all that. Someone must have reported her, reported us .

They took her to STAR-1 up in Maran. Couldn’t have put us farther away from each other.

She’s your dad’s leverage against me, but one of these days I’ll get her out.

I’ll get both of us out. I’m not sold on this revolution thing—it’s a bit too selfless greater good for me—but I hope they do succeed.

I’d laugh to see your daddy’s work burn. ”

“I’d like that, too.”

She gives him a funny look, but it’s no funnier than any of the others she’s given him over the years and no easier to make sense of. She digs in the medical kit. “Bruised ribs, right?”

“Broken. At least one.”

Helner laughs bitterly. “And that’s nothing compared to how you’ll be feeling in a few days. Here.” She digs under a pile of papers until she finds a matte-black case. “I’ll have mercy on you. Give me your arm.”

Sena’s given her his arm a thousand times. He’s in no hurry to let her stab him again. “I’ll pass. I have a high pain tolerance.”

Her expression does a strange thing. “This isn’t for pain.”

“Then what is it?”

“ Antibiotics .” Extracting a syringe, Helner draws a purplish liquid into it. “Come on. Your arm . See, usually, I’m taking something from you, but today I get to give you something. A fresh start for both of us.”

“I would prefer a fresh start without needles.”

“Not my call, sorry. Riese’s orders.”

Sena knows orders and the game of finding room to move between them.

It’s a small freedom, choosing which arm they wound, but he treasures it because it’s his. Better to keep his dominant arm unhindered. He offers his right arm.

“You and your good veins.” Helner leans in and casts a strained smile over his shoulder. She pulls a little table closer and swipes his arm with something cold and wet. “Arm on this. No sugarcoating it. This one’s gonna burn.”

Before Sena can respond, the needle plunges in.

Fire blisters along his nerve endings when she depresses the plunger. The hand stabilizing his arm holds tighter, and Helner pushes the rest of the injection into him quickly.

“See?” she says. “That wasn’t so bad.”

Regardless of allegiance, her bedside manner remains terrible. He tells her as much.

She slants a strange grin at him. “Didn’t know you were funny.”

He shrugs.

She shrugs. She gestures away, the moment broken. “Go on, then. Get out of here.”

Sena stands, lurching with the sudden motion.

Helner bolts to her feet to take his elbow. She gets a look in her eye, this flickering expression of doubt he can’t translate. “You’re not the best with drugs, are you?”

An understatement. “They don’t work sometimes, or, sometimes they work too well?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” She doesn’t let go of his elbow.

Sena thinks about it, but he finds he’s forgotten the question.

Speaking of forgetting. There’s something he’s supposed to be doing after Helner’s finished with him. Something . . . someone? To meet someone.

“This must be one of the ones that’s too effective. I’ll take you back to your tent to make sure you don’t fall over, huh?”

Sena blinks to clear the gauzy glow from his vision. “S’nice of you,” he says.

“Didn’t you know? I’m a nice person.” Helner snorts out a laugh. It’s an ugly, sad sound, and also kind of funny, because Dr. Helner is definitively not a nice person.

All the way back to the tent, she supports him only where her hands are prevented from touching him by his clothing.

Iri! He remembers only when the young man passes by, shoulders hunched. Sena pulls Helner to a stop, stubborn when she tries to urge him on. Iri wanted to talk to him.

They stop. Iri stops. Silence in the air between them. He should say something.

“Sena?” Iri says, confused.

Helner sighs. “He’s a bit out of it. High as a bird. On antibiotics. ”

“Is that even possible?”

“Apparently it is!”

“Wanted to talk,” Sena says. He’s not out of it. He remembers .

“You wanted . . .? Oh!” Iri turns to Helner. “He’s right. I told him we’d—” He looks at his feet. “Riese just tracked me down to give me an earful about risking everyone’s lives . Another time?”

Helner pulls on Sena’s arm. “You’re a mess, both of you. Come on. Let’s get you to your tent while you can still stand.”

Iri gives him a cursory smile so unlike the ones from earlier and nods as he departs.

Helner guides him through the flap as his vision shutters black, letting go as quickly as she can. She murmurs a cold apology before retreating.

Some things never change.