“You don’t like her, do you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I don’t.”
“It takes all kinds to wage a war,” she says. “Could you imagine her entertaining guests in the Raa court?”
“I can’t imagine you there either,” I say.
She looks at me, struck. “Thank you.”
I haven’t time to answer before the Orange barks for us to brace and the submarine plunges into the sea. The straps dig into my shoulders. My stomach leaps into my throat. Down we plummet. The hull creaks as pressure builds. Sevro looks like he’s going to throw up. Darrow yawns. I try to channel his calm.
“Passing through twilight,”the captain soon intones.“Midnight ahead.”
Aurae’s fists clench and I reach for her hand. She opens it for me and breathes a little easier.
By the time I twist in my seat to look out the small porthole, the twilight level of the ocean is behind us. Scum and darkness withhold most of the midnight level’s mysteries, but soon bright fauna and fish glow in the pitch water. They stretch like veins of blue, gold, and green fire. Aurae tells me that they are drawn to this level by the warm waters of the level’s jet stream, and swim in schools kilometers-long. By the look in her eyes, I know it’s the first time she’s seen the wonders of this ocean too. The Raa home where Cassius was prisoner must’ve been on the surface, I surmise.
“Entering the abyssal zone,”the captain says.
Beyond the warm waters lies a vast darkness, where not even the outlines of the beasts who call it home can be seen, as we go down, down, down toward Athena’s domain.
The submarine groans from the pressure. The darkness becomes impure. Light glows faintly in the distance. Soon the lights are bright and cast a blue-white haze over the variegated walls of subaquatic cities that sprout from the dark stone core of Europa’s underworld. I sigh. It looks magical and gloomy and weird. Somewhere within the core of the moon, Athena waits with the key to save Mars. Yet I can’t stop thinking of those on the surface.
Will she really leave them to die?
The submarine’s engines come alive as we near the ocean floor. Still Aurae doesn’t take her hand from mine. The captain guides us into the mouth of a trench lined with metal dock doors crusted over with giant deepwater barnacles as big as cows. There are no barnacles on the guninstallations nearby. A hatch yawns open on one of the installations and three dark projectiles slither out. They disappear behind us, bound for some distant danger. We’re entering into a war within a war, a story that’s been going as long as I’ve been alive. I glance at Cheon, at Aurae, at Darrow. He’s yawning again. So is Diomedes. Sevro has finally stopped squirming.
The submarine glides into an open dock and settles into a rack that lifts it from the water with a rattle and a groan. Aurae lets go of my hand. I stretch my legs and wait for my seat’s safety straps to unlock. Through the porthole, I glimpse movement outside the ship. Shadows moving on a dim dock. My eyes adjust quickly, and a chill creeps down my spine. The shadows carry something in their hands.
Manacles. It’s a big set. And then another. And another.
I turn back around to see Sevro struggling to keep his eyes open. Diomedes yawns even more deeply than Darrow this time. They both blink like they’re trying to stay awake.
“Darrow! Something’s wrong,” I shout. “They got chains out there!”
Darrow doesn’t react except to turn and look at Cheon and raise his eyebrows. “It doesn’t have to be like this,” he says.
She stares back at him and taps her bionic nose. “You know, I can smell a musky man at a hundred paces and tell you the Color of his last shag, but I still can’t smell ceronocyne gas. Can you?” He does not answer. “This brand’s made for Golds.”
“No,” Sevro slurs and begins thrashing at his straps like a caged animal. “No!”
“Don’t fight,” Darrow murmurs. “Sevro, don’t fight them.”
“Cheon, what are you doing?” Aurae asks. She struggles with her seat’s restraints.
“Athena’s will.” Cheon stands. The heavy Reds stand with her. Their armor flickers alive as their generators whir up. I pull the release latch for my straps. Nothing happens. I pull again, and the straps contract, synching me tight to the chair. Sevro gurgles in rage. I pull my pistol only to have Aurae claw at it.
“No,” she says.
The gun falls to the floor, out of reach.
“Lyria, don’t. Cheon, these are our friends—”
I’m slim enough to slip down through the restraints of my seat and pin the pistol between my feet. I flip the pistol back into my lap and ithits the restraints and nearly slides off. I grab the pistol and point it at Cheon. Something hard and metal slaps the back of my head. I see black spots. My brain aches. I can’t get out of my straps. What is happening? Cheon grabs Darrow by the hair and sniffs him. He stares back, groggy. I’ve lost the pistol. Aurae is shouting, telling her to stop, calling for Athena. Another Red is opening the bag at Darrow’s feet. He hollers to the others and lifts up a black helmet with a grunt. Cheon shakes her head.
“Thought I might smell a bit of the old Red on you,” Cheon rasps to Darrow. “But you’re all Gold now. A Red would know some debts just can’t be forgiven.” She clocks him in the face with a steel gauntlet. “The Sons you betrayed had husbands. They had wives. They had children and grandchildren.” She hits him again. His head lolls. Aurae’s somehow slipped her restraints. She has the pistol. She points it at Cheon and fires over her head. Cheon hits Darrow again. Aurae fires the gun again.
