“I didn’t scream,” I say in the sack.
“Yes, you did,” Sevro says.
“No, I didn’t.” He kicks me through the sack. Hard. Pain jolts through my ribs.
“Stop, Sevro,” Darrow snaps.
“Is that a person in that bag?” Cassius asks.
“Yes!” I say. “My name is Lyria! I am a person.”
“Is that the Red scout?” the Pink, Aurae, asks. “Poor thing, let her out.”
“No.”
There’s a scuffle and Sevro curses in pain. “Son of a bitch.”
The bag unzips and I’m dumped onto the floor at the feet of Sevro,Darrow, Cassius, and a woman so beautiful she must be made of shadow and starlight. I blink up at her, forgetting the giants towering over me. No, shadow and fog. That’s what she is.
“Hello,” I say to her.
The woman smiles sweetly, and then sniffs Sevro’s shoulder. “Is that urine?”
Sevro pulls a knife the size of my leg. “Sevro…” Darrow says. Sevro stares at me with so much rage, I think he’s going to kill me. Darrow sees the look too, and asks if he’s all right. The rage is not for the ham or the urine. It’s for telling him about Ulysses. The others don’t know. That’s plain as day, and the look of hate carries a warning:Keep your mouth shut.
He knows I got the message. He stalks away.
—
Cassius laughs so hard he has to lean against the wall. Aurae disapproves of the entire scene. She scowls at Cassius and kneels beside me. “Lyria, isn’t it? Are you hurt?” she asks. I shake my head and look up at Darrow.
“What do you think you are doing?” he asks.
“I told you that I can help.”
“Well, she pissed on Sevro and lived,” Cassius manages between fits of laughter. “Name one other person who’s done that.”
“This is absurd and cruel,” Aurae says and puts herself between Darrow and me. “Isn’t she one of your agents? At least let her change before you interrogate her.”
“I ain’t so fragile.” I push her off and stand on my own. Gods, Darrow is tall. So is Cassius. Both broad as barns. It strains my neck glaring up at them. “I swore I’d help get Volga back, and I’m going to.”
“I gave you an order,” Darrow says.
“Remember: I ain’t a soldier.”
“Sevro gave you a message to deliver to my wife.”
“The ship is going to Agea whether I’m on it or not. I left the message on the commissary table. Volga needs me. Mars doesn’t.”
“Who is Volga?” Aurae asks.
“Ragnar’s daughter, Fá’s granddaughter,” Darrow murmurs. “Supposedly.”
Aurae blinks in surprise at me. “You know the granddaughter of the Obsidian warlord attacking Ilium?”
“She’s my best friend,” I say, more than a little proud.
Aurae turns on Darrow to scold him. “And you told her she couldn’t come?”
