“Lament, wait.”
He’s ignoring me, his shoulders set, his strides long and urgent. My mind is smoldering like paper on fire, eating its way toward the center. What was that creature? How did it get into the detachment? And where is Lament going now?
It’s not until we reach the common room and Lament approaches the elevator that I finally grab his arm, which is a mistake. He swings around, turning the full force of those blue-green eyes on me. I can feel the tendons flex under his sleeve, the hard length of muscle. He jerks away, breathing hard, and I find that suddenly I am, too.
“Go back to bed, Hartman.”
“Tell me where you’re going first.”
“No.”
He says this like he said it earlier, no pretense, no explanation. Something about his single-word answer—and his defiance, his lifted chin,the pulse beating in his too-pale neck—has me forgetting Lament did just save my life, and I have no right demanding anything.
“You’re heading to the flight deck,” I guess.
“How perceptive.”
“I’m coming with you.”
But he’s already shoving my ray gun back into my hands, twisting away, jamming the elevator’s glass button. “Not a chance.”
I should let him go. Turn around, head back to my room, forget this entire mess. Except, Lament and I are supposed to be partners. And obviously that’s meant nothing so far, less than nothing, but if I can’t find a way to change his mind about me—to prove I belong here—my future in the Sixth is going to be hell.
Then again… maybe it’s not even about that. Maybe I don’t care about proving myself. I just want to stop him from walking away. I sense it within me: that gut-deep urge to reach out and hold on.
I know this feeling.
I hate this feeling.
But I’m helpless to stop it. There’s this relentless sensation of, like,needthat’s groping at my heart, making me dizzy and achy and stupid enough to say, “Lament, please, just—”
“Are you broken?” He whips back around. “What part ofnodon’t you understand?”
“Is everything okay?” Vera appears around the corner wearing a hair scarf, bright yellow pajamas, and slippers shaped like llamas. She looks remarkably alert for someone who’s clearly just been pulled from bed. “I heard gunfire.”
The elevator doors spring open with a littledingto reveal a smooth metal carriage, but Lament hesitates. He might be willing to blow me off, but he won’t do that to Vera. The two of them lock eyes and Lament’s expression changes, shifting from anger to unease to just… pain.
I don’t understand his pain. I don’t understand why the sight of itseems to call forth my own pain, pulling it flush to the surface of my skin.
Lament exhales a tight breath. “We were attacked by a cave raptor.”
“What?” Vera makes a face. “Here?”
“It came out of a vent.”
She pads closer, looking uncertain. “But how did a raptor get onto Skyhub?”
He shakes his head. He doesn’t know. “And that’s not all.” Lament turns to me. “Did you see the raptor’s eyes?”
“Yeah. They were weirdly blue, but what—?”
“It’s the mist.” He looks between Vera and me expectantly, and when we fail to supply the desired reaction, he makes a frustrated noise. “The space mist. The same one that overtook my spacecraft on the day—the day that—” He swallows. “That’s how Bast looked. That’s what happened to his eyes right before he…”
“Lament.” Vera.
Lament masters himself, visibly, before continuing. “I think whatever killed Bast got ahold of that raptor, too. There’s a documented colony of cave raptors on the planet Purvuva. It’s the only one within range of Skyhub.” He’s speaking calmly now, almost mechanically, yet I can sense the energy he’s keeping tapped, live wire buried underneath. “If the mist infected one raptor, it might have infected others. And if that’s true, this could be our chance to understand what happened to Bast. To uncover the mist’s source. I’m going to investigate.”
“All the way to Purvuva?” Vera sounds skeptical. “Why not just examine the raptor that attacked you here?”
