“No... not a box,” I moan, panic rising in my chest.
“Ileana,” he says, locking eyes with me. “I promise—you’ll be safe with me.”
“You don’t know... what they’re accusing me of.”
“I know all about it. I’m going to get you out of Jaga-18 without anyone knowing. And I’m going to heal you.”
“Let us take care of you!”Wingo chimes in, his voice echoing gently in my mind.
I try to find the trap. There has to be one. But honestly, I don’t have many options left. The last time I trusted someone, it was a madman who ended up killing my sister. I’m not exactly known for making great life choices.
But right now, I just want to avoid more pain. More fighting.
“All right,” I whisper, and nod.
“Okay, let’s get moving. I’ll try to lift you without hurting you too much, but I can’t promise it won’t sting.”
“Pherebos? You’re not messing with me, are you?”
“Yeah, in the flesh, baby.”
“Pherebos?” I say again, this time looking directly at Wingo. “I think I’ve lost it. I can hear your adorable animal talking in my head!”
A dazzling smile lights up Pherebos’s face—if that’s even possible.
“Really? Are you serious?” he says, turning to Wingo. “Wingo, have you been talking to Ileana?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. He’s going to think I’m crazy.
“Well, consider yourself lucky then!” he says with a grin. “Wingo’s a telepath. And apart from me, you’re the first person he’s ever spoken to directly. But hey—don’t go blabbing about it, okay? We haven’t exactly advertised that little detail. And for the record, don’t call him an animal. He’s my travel companion. Honestly, I’d even call him a friend.”
What an extraordinary situation.
“You’re not exactly dressed for surviving three days in the wilderness,” Pherebos says, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m going to carry you back to my ship. Try not to scream, even if it hurts. We don’t want to draw attention.”
He warned me, but when he slides his left arm under my legs and pulls me against his chest—pressing my broken shoulder into his torso—I can’t help but let out a muffled cry. He quickly looks away and starts walking.
Branches, shrubs, and thorny bushes scrape against us as we move, but Pherebos follows Wingo, who trots ahead like he knows exactly where we’re going.
It feels like we’ve been walking for hours before Pherebos finally slows down and opens a ramp to a small spaceship.
Once inside, he speaks aloud.
“SIL, that’s me. Any information you’d like to pass on to me?”
A standard metallic voice responds, “Welcome aboard, SIL. What can I do for you?”
“I’ll take care of our guest and give you instructions later.”
The ship’s interior is compact. To the left, I spot a two-person cockpit. To the right, there’s an open space where Wingo heads straight for a closed partition. He activates the control with his little trunk, and Pherebos follows him inside. I recognize the layout—it’s a standard hygiene area, common in Confederation ships.
Wingo flips down a removable stool from the wall, and Pherebos gently sets me on it.
“I’ll tell you what,” he says. “I can grab you an energy bar before you hop in the shower. Or the other way around. I also need to disinfect your wounds. Then I’ll lay you down with Wingo in his bunk so the Confederation only picks up one heat signature. Don’t worry, it won’t be for long—just enough to get you out of here.”
“I’ll happily give you my bunk for the rest of the trip—I can sleep on the floor!”Wingo offers cheerfully.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” I murmur. But then it hits me—I’m going to be alone with this man, who’s clearly much stronger than I am, and his... adorable companion.
