by Ada Harper
“Lady’s tits.” Emeric paled. “Yoshi, stop the madwoman.”
“It would work,” Olivia insisted. “We could drop down on a car from the bridge. The train comes above ground to cross the old scar. Once it hits the bridge it slows down to a crawl because of the Cauldron interchange and the age of the rail. We could jump and—”
“Smoosh your insides against the engine?” Yoshi said weakly, but Olivia was convinced.
“It is possible. I can make that jump. I could make that jump even carrying Lyre.”
“That’s sweet, kitten,” Lyre said.
Olivia turned, fierce and blazing, to Galen. “You said you’d follow my lead in the Syn.”
It wasn’t a fair move. He reached out for her, curling his fingers around the smooth skin of her arm and feeling the tension. But it wasn’t anxious, grieving tension this time, it was the contained certainty of action vibrating beneath her skin. Wild and sure. He’d do anything to hold on to it. Galen gave her a helpless look and his shoulders inched down. “Where is this bridge?”
“Well, since I don’t want in your pants, it’s a no,” Emeric huffed. “We are so not doing this.”
Olivia smiled.
* * *
They were doing this.
“I don’t like this,” Galen muttered, only just loud enough for Emeric to hear him. The wind on the tower where they stood nipped and clawed at his coat. Below them, he could just make out the light of Olivia’s hair, wheat turned to silver in the streetlight. She seemed a small, shivering ember weaving through the dark catwalk, Yoshi an only slightly taller shadow at her side. The bridge was an old iron beast, kept in use by newer anchors of permasteel. The old struts cast deep shadows, bony fingers reaching.
It was possible Galen’s anxiety was making his thoughts florid. “I should—One of us should have gone with them.”
“Oh, yes, so we could have guaranteed a fight.” Emeric had been more than content to leave the ground fighting to Galen as they climbed their tower. The Syn didn’t have as large a military force as the Empire, normally preferring to guard and police their own populous using technology like the FL-AIs, but there had been a handful of underpaid guards in the control room of the tower. Emeric picked imaginary lint off his sleeve. “Those two have been thicker than thieves for longer than I’ve been around. They’ll be fine.”
Galen strained his eyes as they slowed outside the halo of the tower spotlight. “If the sensors aren’t disabled—”
“We would already be in custody.” Emeric gave a grim smile, all teeth. “There’s a reason Liv brought me. It wasn’t for my good looks.”
Galen forced his nerves down. He was no stranger to a split forces operation, but he was usually the one running it. Following orders and accepting a backup role did not sit well with him. The bridge they were targeting was spiked by three towers, each manned with Syndicate security. If they disabled and jumped from one, the alarm could be raised from guards on the other two and the Whispers would surely find a way to lock them down on the train before they could make their escape. Olivia had poured over security maps with Lyre and Emeric before finally announcing a plan. Galen and Emeric would take the first tower, disabling the pulse network for the bridge. Olivia and Yoshi would take the middle, with Lyre making it to the far side of the bridge undetected to take the third. Olivia insisted it worked in their favor. It was safest for three jumpers to make their attempts separately anyway—less chance of midair collision as the train passed beneath them.
It also tripled the risk.
Galen didn’t miss the fact that Olivia had taken the middle tower for herself. It held fewer forces, yes, but it also held the arc of the bridge span, made taller to accommodate the flexible steel frame. It was the highest, riskiest jump. Of course Olivia would take it for herself.
The tower door opened as Olivia and Yoshi approached, revealing a single guard. Their tower had been manned by poorly armed genta techs, but the guard confronting Olivia and Yoshi looked tall enough to be an altus from this angle. Galen stiffened. Emeric jabbed him in the side. “Too late to run to her rescue now. Relax. Those two...just watch.”
The guard was gesturing, a universal sign demanding authorization. From the way Yoshi and Olivia stumbled forward, he knew they were trying to play it off as lost, inebriated Cauldron residents. Olivia detached from Yoshi and tried to stumble past. The guard checked her with an outstretched arm. She said something, then the guard’s hand went to his weapon and Galen’s heart went to his throat.
“Easy,” Emeric reminded.
The guard raised his voice, though what he said was unintelligible. Yoshi raised his hands over his head and stepped forward, placating in a shrill tone. The guard’s attention wavered, and Olivia moved. It looked like another drunken stumble, but then she twisted the weapon away and folded into the guard’s outstretched arm. The next moment, Olivia had him knocked to the ground with Yoshi pointing the guard’s own rifle at his head.
Lyre had outfitted them with stunsticks. It was simple to drag the stunned guard into the door of the tower. The door closed, the bridge fell silent, and Galen couldn’t decide whether he felt relieved or impressed.
“She pulled something similar on me, once.” Emeric broke the silence with a dry smile. “I learned to stop questioning that friendship quickly.”
“I see.”
Emeric checked his band. “Just about time for the train. Get ready.” He bent and threw open the hatch that led to the small utility walk outside the tower. Which Galen would be leaping from like a fool. Emeric looked at him. “Just enough time to clear up one thing.”
Galen raised a brow.
“You understand the danger Olivia’s in. That doesn’t end at the border.”
That, at least, was something he could agree with. “I understand.”
A hand on his collar stopped him. “No, I don’t think you quite do. I have specific, important parameters for being a good person in this world. My brother and Yoshito are those important parameters,” Emeric said. “And whatever my opinion, Olivia is Yoshi’s parameter, which makes her mine, too. I am sending a foundation of my foundation with you into a war zone, altus.” Emeric’s smile was a pretty, salt-laced blade. “She’s an ass, but she’s ours. If anything happens to her—or my family as a side effect—I may cease to be a good man—”
“I’ll protect her,” Galen said. It was an easy promise to make, every time he looked at Olivia.
“Good.” Instead of easing, Emeric’s expression turned smug. “Because if she comes back with so much as a scratch, I can send your entire festering country back into the stone age with five minutes and a very small pulse-script.”
It was an exaggeration—Galen hoped. But Emeric’s hands never so much as clenched. He held himself cast iron and composed. Galen nodded. “You have my word. I’ll see to it that she can get in touch once we reach Ameranthe.”
Emeric held his hard gaze a moment longer before nodding to himself. “If your techs are clever enough to get a call into the Syn network, she’ll know which number to use.”
Ours, he’d called her. It made Galen wonder again.
“How’d you two...?” Galen shrugged when Emeric raised his brow. “Liv told me how she met Yoshi. I wondered how you entrenched yourself so firmly into the picture.”
“Ah, that.” Emeric let out a soft laugh. It carried a note of mocking. He tilted his head. “I blackmailed him into marrying me.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t give me that look. It was only to pretend to be married. It was just pretend, at first.” Emeric’s gaze went distant. His lips twitched into a soft expression that was entirely unlike his usual smile. “At first. I was an idiot.”
Blackmail. Pretend marriage. Galen grasped for words and came up lacking. “Are all men in the Syn mad?”
“Oh, the women, too. Surely you’ve been
around our Olivia long enough to discover that.” Emeric laughed, uncharacteristically young and delighted. “I think you’ve acquired a taste for mad. Speaking of—here comes the train.”
Galen braced himself on the catwalk, leaning out to see the tell-tale spark of blue grav-pulse that snaked ahead of the Syndicate train, like froth on an ocean wave. It came from the far shore, passing under Lyre’s tower first, then Olivia’s, making Galen the last to jump. He’d been glad for it, preferring to confirm Lyre and Olivia made it onto the train before committing, but having to watch now played havoc on his nerves. Olivia was already stepping out onto a fine cable for added distance, balancing like a kite on the wind.
“She’s going to kill me,” he muttered, and Emeric laughed behind him.
He would have never seen Lyre’s jump if he hadn’t been looking for it. When she landed square on the lead baggage car, she was a bare flutter of shadows that disappeared against the ladder. She’d landed hard but sure, one down. The train was slowing as it crossed fully onto the bridge, but Galen’s eyes were locked on the flicker of gray on top of the middle tower. It was impossible to make out her face at this distance, but Olivia shifted at the last moment. Pale hair flashing as she turned his direction, and in his mind, Galen saw her smile: sharp, hunger-pang fierce, and a little mad. She let go of the bridge strut and dove through the sky.
Galen had to jump. His stomach lurched as he shoved off the platform and plummeted through open air. He’d been late, more concerned about seeing Olivia land, and realized as soon as he jumped that he would not make the car next to hers. He was going to hit the first passenger car instead. There was no time to correct.
He tucked his body and rolled as he hit. The metal bang he made crunched all the way up his spine. He caught a glimpse of the edge of the car and grabbed for a handhold. It took a split second to recognize that passenger cars, with no loading doors in the ceiling, were nothing but smooth silver bullets. His legs slipped into open air before he managed to arrest his fall by snagging a seam in the metal.
His arms screamed, but he dug his fingertips in mercilessly. The wind howled around him as the train began to pick up speed past the bridge. He had to hurry, the plan was to get off the roof and inside the train before it entered the final city stops again. Populated stops where extra people were clinging to the roof would be noticed. He tried to brace his feet under him, but the surface was slick. His fingers were slipping. A tunnel was coming. A lot of good his—
A grip vised around his wrist. Galen looked up. Olivia’s hair was wild in the wind, writhing around her face like pale flames. She gritted her teeth and extended her other hand to him. She braced and hauled him up with a struggling groan. And it was suddenly familiar, collapsed on top of each other, wind whipping their breaths into a tangle. Galen dropped his forehead to Olivia’s shoulder and laughed until she shoved him off.
“What the fuck, Galen? You nearly went over the side,” she wheezed, eyes furious though the hand still on his arm trembled. She shoved again without letting go. “Don’t fucking scare me like that.”
“I...was distracted.” The wind shrieked around them as Olivia blinked through a dance of flustered looks. Her breath was warm on his face. Galen squelched the irrational urge to taste it. She finally settled on disgruntled as she dragged him toward the ladder to get off the roof.
“You’re an idiot.”
Chapter Fourteen
Their luck, for once, held. After a cramped wait in the baggage car, they emerged at the next station and found seats in the nearly deserted dining car. The only inhabitants were a snoring salary man and a temple tweaker with black-kohled lips and white-rimmed eyes. Neither paid them any attention. The grill was shut down this time of night, but the chemical smell of synth-spices and sour-sweet rations hung in the air. Lyre wrinkled her nose and stole a drink from the bar before choosing a corner booth. She chose to share a side with Galen, probably just to annoy Olivia.
Olivia slunk against the glass, feeling the sloshing dip and swell of the grav-pulse engines beneath her feet, thrumming cold against her cheek. Trains like this had a holo display built into the glass, a mist of translucent color over the black night outside. It gave her something to focus on. There was a red bar at the bottom of the display, advertising a region alert for a noncompliant citizen. The picture of her was a bad one, from her Whisper ID. She barely recognized her sallow cheeks and dark eyes.
Lyre squelched against the plastic seat. “There’s one wrinkle in our plan, you know. Even if we take a stray kitten home, the treaty says if the Syn files extradition we’d be obliged to hand her right back.”
Olivia turned away from the display. “You only think to mention this now?”
“No one was asking my opinion earlier.” Lyre’s eyes were wide. She slurped her drink noisily.
“She could petition for political asylum,” Galen pointed out before Olivia could snarl a reply. “She was a caricae in the Syn. There’s a case for a persecuted minority group.”
Lyre gave Galen an indulgent look. “Only if the empress wanted a war with the Syndicate. You know Sabine won’t risk it, not even for intelligence.”
“We will figure something else,” Galen said uneasily.
Lyre toyed with the condensation on her bottle. “Of course, there’s one set of extenuating circumstances that you could use.”
The last time Olivia had seen Galen that unnaturally still, there’d been a wraicath at his throat. There was only one deadly predator in the room. “Lyre...”
“So you haven’t told her.”
Unease colored Olivia’s confusion. “What circumstances?”
“The Empire’s treaty with Syndicate makes certain exceptions against extradition.” The words sounded dragged from Galen. “Under certain circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” Olivia repeated. She never had to repeat herself to Galen.
“If I declared that I considered you a mate candidate.” He paused, and this time it was hesitance rather than caution. As if his conscience required him to clarify. “An intent to marry.”
A cold sensation rose up through Olivia’s chest. “That’s ridiculous. You said that took a—the freaky connection thing—pheromones and compatibility shit—”
“An affinity bond,” Lyre provided helpfully.
“That. We would have to have a bond.” Olivia felt a flutter of panic. Galen’s gaze fixed somewhere around her right ear, not looking at her. Her certainty faltered. “No one would believe a story like that.”
Galen stilled. The train shifted into a turn. Pans clicked in the grill.
Lyre cupped her chin in her hand. She glanced between them, smile all pitying teeth. “I’m finding it more believable by the moment.”
“That’s—” Olivia’s breath stuttered and Galen finally met her gaze. His face held an odd mix of desolation and hope and Olivia knew. Knew what the anxiety was he’d described. Knew what’d really brought him here.
“Fuck,” Olivia breathed.
Galen’s lips parted, words on his tongue. Olivia was out the door.
* * *
The pulse rail to the border traveled at an average of three hundred clicks per hour. Olivia’s foot kicked a box and she spun to pace the opposite wall. The cargo car interior was ten feet tall and contained an emergency hatch in the roof. Too high to jump but there were stacks of boxes to either side that could have been scaled by a toddler. Lyre had a shuttle to smuggle them across at the border, so it’d have to be before then. She’d caught sight of Orta Colony approaching as she’d passed between cars; the train would be slowing down as it pulled into the next stop. It would take her approximately fifteen seconds to gain access to the roof of the car and then another ten—
“See, I woulda gone for the front of the train. More civilians for cover.”
Olivia spun, fists clenched. Lyre leaned against the door. Ol
ivia scowled. “Don’t you have a war to wage?”
“The way I see it, that’s what I’m doing.” Lyre tilted her head. “You keep on fucking up my plans, you know.”
Olivia glanced back toward the hatch again. “Then let me go.”
“I did. You had plenty of time, kitten. I don’t give most people a head start.” Lyre pushed away from the door, stalking past Olivia to sniff at the hatch. “You’re not going anywhere. If you were, you’d already be gone.”
She’d left an opening, putting Olivia with the compartment door at her back. Anyone else, it would have been a gesture to make her feel less trapped. With Lyre, it felt like that was the trap. Olivia gripped her elbows as Lyre hopped on top of a crate and swung her legs lazily. “I should leave. Galen’s—”
“Galen is fucking terrified right now,” Lyre said. “Because of you. It’s usually my job to squish anything that terrifies royals.”
“So you’re here to squish me?”
Lyre tilted her head. “Maybe just a little.”
Olivia threw up her hands. “I can’t be his mate. This affinity thing—”
“Pheromone drift and sync is as much scientifically established fact as puberty. Gods, for a technocracy, the Syn keeps their people uneducated.” Lyre waved a dismissal. “But that doesn’t mean anything, necessarily. Affinities take many forms. Sure, our duke has some tragically romantic ideas about it, but I’m more interested in you.”
Olivia could feel a snare forming around her, but if she wasn’t running, there was nowhere to go. “What?”
“Up for a game, kitten?”
Strike that. Not a snare, a death trap. “Do I look like an idiot?”
“Says the girl hiding from her feelings in a cargo car.” Lyre ignored Olivia’s squawk of protest and continued. “A game. You answer three questions honestly, prove to me you aren’t half in love with the duke yourself, and I’ll send you off with my blessings at the next stop.”