Page 136 of The Space Between Stars

“I think this is Cul’Mon’s vessel.” Fankalo had witnessed the Tera’thian Tohatu’s art firsthand. If they did not escape, there would be no negotiation. And with the ship’s current proximity, they wouldn’t be able to outrun it to Seraphinden. “With their speed, there’s no sense in holding course. We’ll need to lose them in Solutium.” Their smaller size would be their only advantage.

“Have you manned the helm through Solutium before?” Drogus asked, skepticism written on his brow—and with good reason. Shallow waters, rock, and reef, Solutium was a fisherman’s net for unskilled sailors. The navigator’s abilities were rudimentary. Her father had always been the one to take on difficult waterways.

“No, and I don’t mean to now. But if you can maneuver us through tight quarters, I can read my Luck to give you our best chance.”

“It’s been twenty years since I sailed through Solutium.”

They watched one another for long moments, waiting for the other to present a better option. None came.

Fankalo gestured for Drogus to retake the wheel. “Then I hope you have a very good memory.”

An hour passed of tight-muscled chase. By the time the Rapture merged with the first ebony isles, the Tera’thian vessel had halved the distance between them. Another few minutes and it would be within firing range. Fankalo fell into a trance, following the brightest silver thread tangled in the mess of darker outcomes.

“There.” She pointed at a gap between isles. It would be a tight squeeze for them, but even more so for the Tera’thian vessel. They would have to sail for nearly a mile to get around it otherwise.

“You’re sure?” Drogus peered at her from beneath one very bushy brow.

“Don’t ask me if I’m sure.”

They veered into the snake-thin channel between two rocky outcroppings like the imposing gates into Chira’na. The ship fell strangely silent as they slipped through, minus the murmur of prayer and hissed breath.

Fankalo held a hand in the air and closed her eyes so she could focus on the eddies of Luck instead of the shade of the too-close stone. She tilted her palm every few moments, in sway with the silver current. Drogus obeyed.

The moment they cleared the narrow inlet, the silver thread spilled into a river of Luck. She opened her eyes. Sound and sunlight came back into the world.

“Drop sails! Bank south!” she screamed.

Drogus threw the wheel as Mitek hollered commands across the deck. Her heart leapt into her throat when the Rapture slowed to a standstill, bringing the enemy within firing range on the other side of the channel. The rigging snapped and groaned. Then the Rapture pivoted, picking up speed until it careened behind a towering isle that isolated them from the Tera’thian command ship. A cheer echoed across the deck.

Fankalo did not take their celebration as gospel. The Rapture would need to make for Seraphinden eventually. If that vessel had any degree of navigational prowess, they would know all the inlets the Rapture might slip back through—like a deadly game of hide and seek.

Fankalo turned inward. She did not know how long she kept her focus on the Fates, calling out directions based on the impressions they gave her. The Luck around her posed an infinite number of futures where that Tera’thian command ship found them. If not today, then months from now. Years from now. But the presence of immediate danger cleared like smoke in the wake of a storm. For the time being, it seemed that they were invisible.

“Can you keep us lost in these isles for a while, and then weave around for Seraphinden?” she asked Drogus.

“Yes, little queen.”

His voice was firm, but she knew he must be exhausted. He ought to have given up his shift hours before, but she still had Calver to see to. “I see safe passage, for now. I’ll return shortly to relieve you.”

She moved below deck. Bone-weary as she was from the fall of adrenaline, her heartbeat quickened with every step. This time with rage. She slammed open the door to her room.

Calver was still bound, staring at the planking beneath him. She freed him with her dagger. Her hands were shaking by the time she stuffed it back into her belt. She had given up her father for this shell parading around the memory of her brother, only for him to try to go back into Tera’thian hands?

“What is wrong with you?” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “Is capture what you want? Is it so bad here that you’ll go back to—to that?!”

Calver scribbled on his notebook. Finally, Chaos abound.

I was trying to give you a chance. The scribble was more legible than the last time.

“So you fucking flagged him down?”

No. Never. I warned you he would find me. He always knows where I am.

Understanding harrowed her. Cul’Mon knew where Calver was… just like she knew where he was. When he was himself, anyway—like today. But the only way Cul’Mon could see Calver as she did was if Cul’Mon were a conduit too.

Bile rose in her throat. She thought deeper about the violations Calver had been put through. They hadn’t just been callous. They had been genetic calculus. Cul’Mon took Calver because he knew what Calver was.

No wonder he would do anything to get him back.