“Shh, shh,” Soren said. “I have you.”
He needed his velocycle, which was parked outside the resupply station. Soren headed around the corner and toward the chaos unfolding there. Peacekeepers had arrived, their motor carriages with specialized horns affixed to the top blocking the road.
Soren hurried closer, affecting a worried expression on his face as he approached the resupply station. A small crowd had gathered, which Soren pushed his way through. A peacekeeper held up his hand at Soren before realizing who he was stopping.
“Warden,” the peacekeeper said.
“What happened?” Soren demanded, knowing full well what they’d find inside the resupply station.
“We’re not sure. There’s been an attack and fire damage, but the flames appear to have been put out,” the peacekeeper said.
The small crowd shifted around Soren, pulling back once they realized he was a warden. Raiah lifted her head, blinking blearily at the peacekeeper, her face streaked with tears. “Loud,” she complained in Solarian.
The peacekeeper blinked at her. Soren cut off any questions with “She’s a tithe. We were coming back from dinner because she needs to rest, but it doesn’t look like we can rest here. Is this the only resupply station?”
“We were lucky to get this one about fifty years ago.”
Soren grimaced, gaze flicking over to the forced-open front door of the building. “I’ll need to inform the wardens’ governor about what has happened. Is the communication tower available?”
“It’s built into the mayor’s office, but it’s after hours right now. It’ll open up in the morning.”
The peacekeeper offered up an address. He promised he’d pass on word about Soren’s needs, which was all he could hope for at the moment. The town was too small to have a proper set of telephones or televoxes, so it’d be telegraph machines. All of which would be fine to use if Soren was truly going to reach out to the wardens’ governor.
Only he wasn’t, because he didn’t know if Denali could be trusted.
Ignoring the bustle of the men and women in the fire brigade, Soren strapped Raiah into her ride-along seat, put on her helmet and goggles, stored his gear, and drove away from the quiet horror left inside the resupply station.
The thing was he still neededsleep. The few hours of rest he’d managed wasn’t enough to clear his head completely. Soren’s eyes burned from days on the road and stimulants that had kept him awake. He refused to put Raiah at risk, and that meant finding a place to sleep now that the resupply station was no longer viable. Which meant an inn, and he was thankful for the aurons Vanya had supplied him with.
Soren drove to the other side of the town, closer to the gated wall entrance, paid for a room, and locked the door behind him. It was small, with only one bed, which he laid Raiah down on. She’d stopped crying, but she didn’t look well, too wide-eyed and frazzled. Soren smoothed a hand over her hair, giving her a tired smile.
She blinked up at him, little hands gripping at the sheets, and said, “You have starfire like Papa.”
Soren froze, breath stuttering in his lungs. “Ah, no.”
Raiah frowned at him, nose scrunching up. “But—”
“The starfire burned itself out. It does that,” Soren lied. She was young enough; perhaps she would believe him. “I think it’s time you went to bed.”
Raiah fussed at him for a bit, still keyed up from what had happened at the resupply station. Eventually, Soren shucked off his gear, leaving it on the floor by the bedside, but kept his pistol on the rickety nightstand. Then he lay down in the bed, Raiah curled up beside him, one little hand clutching at the gold chain of the vow hanging around his throat.
Raiah slept, and eventually, so did Soren.
In the morning, hours past sunrise, when a mayor’s aide came calling on the inn, looking for Soren, the warden and his charge were nowhere to be found. Soren had fled the town at dawn, buying passage for both himself and Raiah on an E’ridian airship heading southeast on a route meant to cross the southern border.
Six
SOREN
When they finally landed in Karnak, the sun was in the west, afternoon sunlight casting long shadows for the airfield workers tasked with securing the airship. The anchoring caused the airship to judder as it dropped more heavily into its berth. Raiah, with her nose pressed to the viewport window of their cramped little room, exclaimed loudly.
“Are we getting off?” she asked.
Soren finally came up with her helmet, where it had somehow fallen halfway down his rucksack. “Yes, but you need to put this on first.”
Raiah climbed off the bench and went to stand before him. She was dressed in a pair of dark trousers and a beige robe, her shoes covered in dust from the road that no amount of brushing could clean up. Her hair was a frizzy mess, despite Soren’s attempt that morning to redo the braids.
She stood still as he settled the helmet on her head and secured the strap beneath her small pointed chin. Raiah demanded to put the brass goggles on herself, and Soren let her do as she liked. Then he shouldered his rucksack over his poison short sword’s sheath, took Raiah by the hand, and made his way off the airship for the docks.
