The two days crawled by. The Bone Tower, the spacious, open-air citadel of the Gultur, stifled Hera like a headlock. The filing observation data and her other assignments dragged, a looping nightmare that sucked on her concentration, leaving her empty. The lessons in biology and history failed to hold her attention. For the first time in years, she was reprimanded and sent to read in her room.
Terrible things were happening outside the gilded walls and she was kept in darkness. When she finally raised the courage to ask where her mother was stationed, she was told it was not her business to know. Girls had nothing more to do with their mothers after early childhood, and that was long past, so she could not ask again without drawing attention to herself and that was the last thing she needed right now.
Sacmis avoided her, and ignored her when working together on an assignment became unavoidable.
Not as if I saved her life or anything, Hera thought bitterly. Although, deep inside she knew, it was not she, Hera, who had saved Sacmis – but the unknown man with his boy, the mortals she’d been about to kill.
When the day of the patrol finally arrived, she was not overly surprised to find out that she’d been partnered with Sacmis again, but it did complicate matters.
Matters like breaking out of the Artemisia military HQ to see if Mantis was there. The more she thought about it, the more she doubted he’d be able to slip inside.
Sacmis watched her like a hawk, making Hera wonder whether Nekut had suspected something and had set Sacmis on her tail. The transport helicopter had barely landed, when Sacmis pulled Hera out onto the landing pad.
“Hey, release me.” She scowled at Sacmis’ hard glare. “What is wrong with you?”
Sacmis gave a mocking bow. “Am I allowed to speak around you now, hatha?”
There was so much venom in Sacmis’ voice that Hera was speechless for a moment. “Are you serious?”
“What do you think?”
“Why are you acting like this?” Hera struggled to keep her voice low. “You almost died. I did all I could to save your life.”
“I would rather have died than have a filthy mortal touch me.”
Hera gaped at Sacmis as the other Gultur turned and strode away. Nunet, she should have seen this coming. Since the incident with the mortals, she’d known that Sacmis was a believer. Of course she’d never forgive Hera for letting the mortals go.
Now Hera had to find a way to meet the boy under Sacmis’ hateful gaze.
Did I say complicated? Make that damn impossible.
Then again, if Sacmis was mad enough to keep her distance, maybe there was still hope.
And Sacmis was heading straight for the docks. She seemed in a hurry to get on the wavebreaker, patrol and return. Hera followed her as slowly as she dared, glancing at the fence on either side of the compound.
Nothing.
The world darkened as she walked on toward the dock. Her assumptions had been wrong. The resistance did not know of her mother and did not trust Hera.
Or the boy had not taken her message.
Or else he’d failed to enter the premises, as she’d feared.
Anything could have happened.
The smell of the sea – saltiness and sewage – hit her senses and she saw again in her mind’s eye the look on the two mortals’ faces as she sighted down the barrel of her gun, about to shoot them.
She had to fix this. She had to stop this. She would find another way. She—
A movement along the chain link fence caught her attention.
Hera stumbled to a halt, but then forced her feet to keep moving. Cameras were watching, and other Gultur lounged about the HQ and the docks. From the corner of her eye she saw the boy, Mantis, staring back at her, fingers wrapped around the metal mesh of the fence. He’d come. How in all the hells had he made it past the wall?
Think, hatha, think.
She changed her path slightly to the side, approaching the fence. When she was as close as she dared, she pretended to stumble and fell on all fours, barely noticing the jarring pain in her knees and wrists.
All her focus was on Mantis who pushed a small piece of paper through the fence and scuttled away, crouching low as he ran, not looking back to see if she’d got it.
Hera clutched the paper in her hand, wondering if there was a hole in the outer wall, and, if so, how the cameras had missed it. She pushed herself up, unfolding the piece of paper.
“Are you coming or not?” Sacmis shouted from the dock. “We do not have all day. You’ll make us late.”
Cold sweat trickled down Hera’s temples. “Just get on the damn boat. I’m on my way.”
She looked at the message. It read, “Meet Pelia at Dock 6 in two days.” Pelia, probably one of the leaders. Another two days.
They’d believed her.
Shoulders relaxing slightly, Hera pushed the paper into her mouth and swallowed as two Gultur officers approached her. She’d think later of a way to break out of the complex again.
“Are you all right?” one of the officers asked, a wiry, short haired woman. “What happened?”
“I’m fine.” The lie came easily to her tongue – had she always been capable of such deception? – and rolled off. “My boot caught on something.”
The Gultur nodded, her eyes hooding in suspicion. “Hurry, hatha, you’re running late.”
Hera nodded and dusted herself off. “I’ll make up for the lost time.”
Sacmis stood on the deck of the wavebreaker, arms folded over her chest, blond ponytail fluttering in the wind, a dark scowl on her face.
Hera jogged toward her, lips stretching in a grin in spite of the terrible odds. Indeed I will.
THE END
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