If Tian was behind this—and she’d bet her life he was—he’d be waiting for her to surface. She wasn’t going to make it easy for the bastard.
Captain Malik took the tablet and did a quick search before leading them out of the shopping ward and into a warren of backstreets.
A short while later, they checked into a squalid hotel in the poorest end of the lower-side. The lights and colors of the heart of the district gave way to shadowy streets, illuminated by orange streetlights, as they walked. The residential ward was a dormitory for the thousands of souls who kept Aura Terminal working. There was little to recommend the area, no parks or plazas, and few shops save a large, bustling market, where the residents shopped for their daily food supplies.
The Spacers’ Retreatsat in a poorly lit alleyway. The name was an irony, for the hotel looked about as welcoming as a detention block. A squat utility-droid welcomed them at reception. Perched upon a seat at the desk in a cramped, unadorned lobby, it didn’t ask to see any ID, as most hotels would have.
Digging into her bag, Jenna withdrew herPCSD: a small Portable Currency Storage Device. When she went on diplomatic missions, she always liked to travel with a PCSD, rather than accessing her accounts on Idral. Having funds on her person made her feel more secure—and freed her up if she wished to go shopping. And now, it provided them with anonymity. No one could track hard credits—as the funds were downloaded onto portable devices rather than accessed from a bank account.
Swiping the device over the reader, she took a keycard from the droid.
“Third floor, Room 37,” it chirped.
They took the elevator upstairs, and as soon as the doors closed, Jenna pushed back her hood and glanced at her companion. “Nice place … I can’t believe they only had one room left.”
Her bodyguard shoved back his own cowl. “It’s a dump … but it’s safe … for now at least.”
Stepping out onto a narrow, dimly lit corridor, they made their way down to their room, an equally depressing-looking cubicle. The room was windowless with hard grey floors, stained walls, and a large bed covered in stark sheets. A tiny bathroom led off the cubicle.
Jenna’s mouth thinned when her gaze settled on the bed. It was just her luck that the only room this fleapit had left was a double room, not a twin.
Pushing aside her discomfort, she walked over to the bed and sank down onto it. Now they’d finally stopped running, her limbs felt weak and shaky. If she didn’t sit down, she’d fall over. She didn’t even have the energy to remove her bag or cloak.
“Are you carrying any water on you?” Captain Malik asked after a pause.
Woodenly, she nodded, reaching into her bag, and withdrawing a bottle. She then handed it over to him. He unstoppered it and took a couple of gulps. “I’ll go out and get us provisions,” he said after a pause. “This isn’t the kind of hotel that provides room service.”
Jenna nodded once more. She then shifted her gaze to the wall.
A moment later, a tall figure moved between her and the stained paneling. And then, to her surprise, Captain Malik lowered himself so that their gazes were level. A frown marred his forehead. “Lady Jenna?”
“I’m all right,” she murmured. “It’s all just hit me … that’s all.”
“Do you have any sedatives in that bag of yours?”
She shook her head. “I don’t like them. I prefer to keep clear-headed.” She paused then. “This is my fault, Captain … Mir-Barus and your team are all dead because of me.”
Those startling violet eyes narrowed. “How so?”
“This is Tian’s revenge for me leaving him.”
“It’s possible … although the Mir-Ferrins’ attack on Idral is hardlyyourfault.”
Jenna swallowed. “I should be there … with my family.”
“If you had been, you’d be imprisoned and standing trial alongside your brother … how would that help?”
Jenna didn’t answer. She appreciated her bodyguard’s practical response, yet it didn’t ease the ache in her chest. Pelicon Mir-Barus had been a loyal advisor to her family for nearly twenty years.
Images of her aide sprawled upon the ground, of her security team falling, returned, so vivid she could almost taste the acrid smoke in that plaza. Jenna’s throat constricted, and her eyes started to burn.
Captain Malik cleared his throat. “You need to rest, My Lady.”
Nodding, Jenna reached up and dragged a hand down her face. “What about my family? I can’t let them execute Cathal.”
The bodyguard pulled a face. “One thing at a time,” he murmured. “Your own life is still in peril … let’s focus on getting you off Aura Terminal first.”
Jenna stared up at him. “How are we going to do that?” she whispered, despair pressing down like heavy hands upon her shoulders. “You don’t want the garrison finding us either … and they’ll be watching every gate.”
