“Walk me through it,” I said.
She did. The sequence was complex. Open this valve, wait for pressure to build, open the next. Redirect flow through channels that hadn’t been used since the mining days. Let the hydraulic pressure accumulate until it triggered the vault mechanism.
“How long from start to finish?”
“Six hours minimum. Eight if we want to be safe.” She pointed to the gauges. “Push too fast and the old pipes could rupture. Then we’d have to repair them before trying again.”
Six to eight hours. With Conclave forces potentially arriving in two days.
“We should start the sequence now,” she said.
“Not yet.” I shook my head. “Knowing Torek, I’d bet the vault is shielded. Once it opens, the Regalia will be exposed. If the Conclave is scanning the system, they might pick up a signature.”
“So we wait until we’re ready to run.”
“Or until we have no other choice.”
She nodded slowly. As much as I hated to wait, timing would be everything.
She led me deeper into the station, through a narrow passage half-blocked with debris. At the end, a heavy door with no visible lock.
“The vault,” she said. “Won’t open until the sequence completes. Torek designed it so there’s no way to force it. No override. No bypass.”
I studied the door. Solid metal, reinforced frame, no hinges on this side. Breaking through would require explosives that would probably destroy whatever was inside.
“If something happens to me,” she said quietly, “you’ll need to complete the sequence yourself. The valves have to be turned in order, with the right timing between each.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you.”
She smiled. It was a thin smile, sharp-edged and knowing.
“You can’t promise that.”
“No. But I can promise I’ll do everything possible to prevent it.”
The cold of the station pressed around us, but where she stood, I felt warmth. Her breath visible in the dim light. Her body inches from mine.
I could reach out. Pull her against me. Find out if she tasted the way she smelled, warm and alive and nothing like the shadows I lived in.
“We should get back,” she said. Her voice had dropped, gone rough at the edges. “Start preparing the defenses.”
“Yes.”
Neither of us moved.
“Kallum.”
“Yes?”
She didn’t answer. Just stood there, near enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Close enough that one step would close the distance between us.
I wanted to take that step. Wanted it more than I’d wanted anything in years.
The moment stretched, fragile and charged.
Then Turnip’s grunt sounded from the entrance, impatient and demanding.
Anhara laughed. A real laugh, surprised out of her, and the tension shattered. “He hates it when I’m out of sight too long.”
