Page 73 of Last of Her Name

He cocks his head. “Well, there was this time I kidnapped the last of the Leonovs and tried to hand her over to her enemies.”

“Right.” I wince. “There was that.”

We start heading back to Tyrrha. Though the inverted pyramid looms over us, it’s going to take a half hour to reach the lift into the city, but I don’t mind the walking. The snow is deep, and I love the way it crunches underfoot.

We pass a glaziery, and there I pause to watch a team of tensors move a load of diamantglass sheets into a cargo ship. They seem almost to be dancing, the way they move their hands through the air, sliding the glass along a crackling stress field.

Thoughtfully, I turn to Riyan. “So you are the only people in the galaxy who can make diamantglass, right?”

He nods. “It’s our only source of trade, and we guard the process carefully. Of course, few could copy it, since it involves stress fields.”

I look around at the landscape: snow, rock, ice. “Where does the sand come from?”

“Hm?”

“For the diamantglass. Where do you get the sand to make it?”

He blinks; his eyes slide away, to the gas giant swelling on the horizon. “From Rumiha.”

For some reason, my question seems to have unsettled him. The planes of his face harden, like a shell closing.

I frown, confused, before carefully adding, “You must know a lot about Prisms, then, since you make the cases that hold them.”

“I know as much as anyone else, I suppose.” He tilts his head. “You said Zhar is seeking control of the Prisms.”

I nod. “She’s looking for something called the Prismata—the mother crystal, I guess, that creates all the others. Do you think that’s even possible?”

His eyes follow the cargo ship as it lifts off the ground and turns toward a row of warehouses farther to the east. “It’s long been thought that the Prisms are connected. They seem to sense one another, and even react when a nearby crystal is stimulated. My father believes it’s similar to quantum entanglement, only we can’t really know, because we have no idea what element the Prisms are made of. Theirs is a unique energy, unlike the electricity generated from solar, wind, or water sources.” He pauses, his eyes returning to me. “We pluck these crystals from deep space, we sell them for a fortune, and we still have no idea what theyare, or how they generate so much energy.” He gives a shy laugh, his breath a white cloud. “Forgive me. I tend to drone about Prismic science when given half the chance. It was my favorite area of study growing up.”

I smile. “Trust me, you haven’t hearddroningtill I start in about engine mods.”

We move on, trudging through the snow. Walking with my head down, I expose the back of my neck, and snowflakes tingle and melt on my bare skin.

“So your trial thing is tomorrow,” I say. “What’s going to happen?”

He winces. “Everyone will be there, but you might not want to come. Our customs might seem strange to you.”

“They already do, but I still want to watch. What will they do to you?”

“It depends, I suppose, on how the judges are feeling. I could be imprisoned for a few months, if they’re in a generous mood. If they aren’t, well, they may turn to more …corporalmethods.”

“Don’t tell me they’d whip you or something!”

He says nothing.

I slow to a stop, reaching out to touch his arm. He turns to meet my gaze.

“We could leave,” I say softly. “You, me, Pol, Mara, tonight on the clipper.”

“Stacia …”

“It’s ridiculous, making you go through this when you were just trying to save your sister.”

“I disgraced myself. I must face justice.”

“But you did nothing wrong.”

He shuts his eyes. “Without my people, Iamnothing. We are all threads in a tapestry, Princess, and to deny our people is to tear a hole in that fabric. I have chosen to trust them, and whatever their decision, I will abide by it.”