Page 31 of Last of Her Name

His eyes lower. “Something important. Something I should have kept a better eye on, or it would have never been stolen in the first place.” Then he shakes his head. “But I’m not interested in a revolution.”

“Either you’re on our side,” says Pol, “or you’re ontheirs.”

Riyan rises to his feet, arms rigid at his sides. “Your side? Ha! Where wasyour sidewhen pirates attacked one of our cities and razed it to the ground, killing nearly a thousand tensors? We called for aid, but did the Empire come? No, but they had the audacity to call onuswhen the Unionist army knocked at their gates. Did they send food when we went through famine twenty years ago? Oh, they sent it, but they charged us thrice the cost because they knew we had no choice. When hasyourside ever been onourside?” Now he looks at me, his dark eyes shining with cold anger. “What makes the Leonovs any better than the Committee?”

I flinch under his gaze, my eyes lowering.

“That’s why we have to fight back,” Pol says. “We have to change things, make the galaxy equal for all.”

“You don’t get it, aeyla,” Riyan replies. “You can knock down one tyrant, but another will always rise to take the crown. When has the galaxy ever been equal? When have my people ever been free of persecution and fear? I left Diamin for one reason only: to recover what Volkov stole from me. I’m not here to make bargains or treaties with anyone.”

He stalks past us, his dark form reflecting on the polished white floor. With a wave, he sinks a panel from the back wall, stepping through into a hallway beyond. The panel rises again behind him, sealing itself seamlessly.

I groan and rub my temples. “I thought I’d break through to him.”

“We don’t need his help.”

Twisting to elbow him, I growl, “If you’d been nicer to him, maybe—”

“Nicer! He nearly crushed us alive! And you want me to benicer?”

“All I’m saying is that we could use an ally right about now, not more enemies!” Removing my multicuff, I pick at the harness lock with the nail file, jamming the narrow point into various grooves and screws, trying to find a way to cut the power to the override mechanism Riyan activated. “Wherever he’s taking us, Volkov’s going to be waiting with a hundred Red Knights.”

Pol lays his head back and shuts his eyes. “We’re not going to Volkov. We’re going to the Loyalist stronghold, as planned.”

“Um, Pol. I’m all for optimism, but let’s be realistic. This guy could squash us into the size of a pea with hismind.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. But he’s not handing us over to Volkov. I already took care of that.” He opens his coat and pulls out a familiar clear stick. “I switched his data core and overrode the navigation system with the Loyalist coordinates, all encased in a shell program. The computer will display his destination but set course for ours.”

I look up from my tinkering. “When did you do all that?”

He closes his jacket again. “While you two were wasting time holding hands on the docks.”

“He was helping me up the stairs!”

“Since when do you need helpwalking?”

“Ugh!” My face goes hot again. I clip the multicuff back onto my wrist; my prying revealed no weak points in the lock. “You’re just mad he got the better of you.”

“It wasyouridea to follow him. This is just like that time you bought that tabletka from the seedy guy in Afka. Only it turned out to be stolen, andIwas the one who nearly got arrested for it. You never think before you do things.”

“Well, you think too much.” Scowling, I twist away from him, as much as the harness will allow. “Anyway, as I recall, our descriptions of the thief led to his arrest. So as I see it, I was sort of a hero.”

Pol groans.

Seven hours later, I awake to my stomach floating out of my body and dragging the rest of my insides with it.

Or at least, that’s what dropping out of warp feels like. The cabin lights, which must have dimmed after I fell asleep, swell brighter.

I don’t remember nodding off, but stars, did I need the rest. My muscles feel tight and creaky, my head thick, like I’ve been passed out for hours. And I have a serious need to pee.

The deck is quiet. There’s no sign of Riyan.

Beside me, Pol jolts awake. “Stacia?”

“Shh. We’re here.” I wonder where “here” is exactly. What if Pol was wrong about overriding Riyan’s coordinates? What if I’m hours away from being taken by Volkov and shot?

“Can you tell what system this is?” I ask.