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  Liora followed her into the kitchen. A single settling complete with a matching ceramic bowl, plate, and cup, real silverware, and a maroon cloth napkin waited at the table. At Mrs. Metis’ gesture, Liora took a seat. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten on a setting so nice.

  “I know Coalition food isn’t always the greatest,” Mrs. Metis said as she ladled thick broth into the bowl. “I made Tariq’s favorite, creamy tarlon soup, pickled cavern beets, and braised pulon. It’s a traditional Verdan founding feast.”

  “It smells amazing,” Liora said. Her stomach grumbled.

  “Tariq said you’ve both been living on Calypsan rations from the Sparrow. He refused to tell me why you have a Calypsan craft or why you separated from Devren. I don’t suppose I’ll get the answers from you?”

  Expectant silence filled the kitchen as Mrs. Metis set out gauze and antiseptic. Liora didn’t know how to tell her that they had left Devren to protect the Omne Occasus on his own while she and Tariq chased down the Damaclan intent on killing her along with anyone else she cared about.

  She finally went with, “I’m sorry.”

  Mrs. Metis nodded. “I expected as much. Rius never tells me what he’s up to.” She paused, then corrected herself in a quieter voice, “I mean, Rius never told me what he was up to.”

  Silence filled the room.

  Liora broke it, her words gentle. “I’m sorry for your loss. Your husband was a great captain.”

  The older woman gave a wavering smile. “Thank you, dear. It’s going to take me a while to accept that he’s not going to walk in the door at any moment.”

  Liora nodded.

  Mrs. Metis picked up a pair of scissors. “You need to eat. I’ll take care of your hand if you can feed yourself with your left.”

  Liora lifted the spoon beside the plate. It was heavier than she expected. She took a sip of the soup as Mrs. Metis cut through the bandages around her right palm.

  The soup had so much flavor Liora let it sit on her tongue as she tried to identify the various spices with the tarlon. The cream tasted fresh, and the herbs of the soup complimented the smooth texture.

  “Amazing,” she said to herself.

  She realized Devren’s mother had stopped her gentle movements. Liora glanced at her.

  Mrs. Metis smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while since anyone has enjoyed my cooking so much.”

  “It tastes incredible,” Liora said honestly. “I can’t remember the last time I ate anything nearly so good.”

  A pleased expression crossed Mrs. Metis’ face. “You can stay here as long as you’d like.”

  That brought a small laugh from Liora. “Thank you,” she replied.

  Mrs. Metis turned her attention to Liora’s hand. Liora watched her cut the bandages carefully away.

  “I’m not going to ask where this yellow fluid came from. It looks suspiciously like the bog not far from here.” Mrs. Metis kept her eyes on the gauze. “The jungle is dangerous for those of us who have lived in Echo our entire lives, let alone a stranger unfamiliar with these parts.”

  “I don’t avoid danger,” Liora replied.

  Mrs. Metis glanced at her. “I suppose that’s why you’re with the Coalition.”

  “I suppose,” Liora answered, her tone carefully level.

  Mrs. Metis finished cutting the gauze and pulled it gently from Liora’s hand.

  Fresh blood welled up from the knife wound.

  “No stitches?” Mrs. Metis noted with a tone of surprise. “Tariq knows better than that.”

  Liora bit back a smile at the woman’s words. “We didn’t have time or the right equipment.”

  “I’ve taught that boy how to pull thread from a seam and make a needle out of a sterilized zanderbin bone shard. He should have taken care of this.”

  “I can see where Tariq got his start as a medic,” Liora replied.

  Mrs. Metis gave a small chuckle. “Devren had no patience for it. He would rather be off playing soldier. Tariq was always the one carting the med kit after them. I lost track of how many scrapes and gashes he fixed for his friends.”

  “It sounds like you gave him a good life here.” Liora asked the question that bothered her. “What made you take him in? I know it’s hard to take care of a family. Why add one more?”

  Mrs. Metis carefully cleaned the wound with antiseptic. “He was Devren’s best friend.” She glanced at Liora. “I don’t know how much he told you about his past.”

  “He told me his father was abusive.”

  Mrs. Metis nodded. “That’s putting it lightly.” She smoothed a cool gel over both sides of Liora’s hand and the pain of the wound eased. “I set a few of his broken bones. After Edron dislocated one of Tariq’s shoulders, we told him Tariq was going to live with us. Rius didn’t let him put up a fight. A few days later, Edron left on one of the cargo ships.”

  “Wouldn’t staying with Edron have made him stronger?” Liora asked.

  Mrs. Metis paused her gentle work on Liora’s hand. She met Liora’s gaze, her brown eyes clear and searching. “Tariq told me a few things of your past; I hope you don’t mind. From what I’ve heard, few Damaclan children survive the training process.” Her forehead creased. “If you lived anywhere close to Verdan and we heard of how you were raised, Rius would have brought you home to live with us, too. Being strong isn’t the only acceptable trait; we value compassion and empathy here.”

  Liora sat back. The thought that the stranger in front of her would have taken her into their family given different circumstances caught her off guard. She couldn’t imagine being raised in such a home where smiles and kindness appeared abundant.

  “It’s a simple life, but a fulfilling one,” Mrs. Metis continued. She smiled at Liora. “If you have any wish to give up the Coalition lifestyle, you’re welcome to stay. Echo is a wonderful home for many people.”

  Liora forced a smile despite the way her chest tightened at the woman’s words. “Thank you for the offer. I enjoy the stars far too much to settle in one place.”

  Mrs. Metis nodded. “My husband was the same way. He was always looking beyond, anxious to see the next galaxy, to send word of what lived near the following sun. He had a wandering heart.”

  “Do you regret letting him go?” Liora asked quietly.

  Mrs. Metis wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “It was never my place to ask him to stay. He loved the Coalition and the cause; he loved his crew, and he loved exploring the Macrocosm. I have always considered myself fortunate that he chose me out of all the galaxies he has seen. He completed me, and no matter how many times he left, he always came back home.”

  The fact that he would never return again hung in the air between them.

  Mrs. Metis turned her attention back to Liora’s hand. “This has gone too long to be helped by stitches. We’ll clean it out and close it up with bandages. It’ll take longer to heal and you’ll have to watch out for infections.” She paused, then said, “I’m worried about the scarring. It’s going to be a rough wound to heal.”

  “Scars mean you survived,” Liora replied. It was something her mother used to say when she patched Liora up after many of Obruo’s fiercer training sessions. “Without scars, we wouldn’t be who we are.”

  A smile crossed Mrs. Metis’s lips as she placed gauze over the wound. “You’re right about that.”

  “Right about what?”

  Liora hadn’t heard Tariq walk in. She wondered how the human could be so stealthy without seeming to do so on purpose. Perhaps he really had learned a lot from the way his father had raised him.

  “About scars making us who we are,” Mrs. Metis replied. “Liora and I were just talking about surviving.”

  Tariq took the seat across from Liora with a noncommittal grunt. “Did she tell you she just survived an encounter with a felis?”

  Mrs. Metis gave Liora a startled look. “Do you have other wounds I should be patching?”

  “It didn’t hurt me,” Liora replied.
She met Tariq’s gaze with a flat look.

  “It should have,” Tariq told her. “Felis are dangerous.”

  “They are,” Mrs. Metis agreed. “There’s a bounty on their heads in Echo. Tell Tariq if you see it again. He knows how to deal with them.”

  “I noticed,” Liora muttered.

  “What was that?” Mrs. Metis asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Liora could feel Tariq watching her. She refused to meet his light blue gaze. The human unnerved her, and she didn’t like the way her emotions had responded to seeing him and Kiari so close. Liora knew it wasn’t like anything could ever happen between her and the Kratos medic, and she thought she didn’t care, but her heart betrayed her.

  Mrs. Metis finished wrapping Liora’s hand.

  “Keep it dry,” Mrs. Metis directed. “We’ll change the dressing again tomorrow if it bleeds through. Wounds like this tend to be stubborn.”

  “Like someone else I know,” Tariq said under his breath.

  Mrs. Metis gave him a surprised look. “What was that, Tariq?”

  “Nothing,” Tariq replied.

  Liora rose. “Thank you for the bandages.”

  “You’re very welcome, my dear,” Mrs. Metis said. She set a worn hand on Liora’s shoulder. “Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.”

  “I think I’ll catch some sleep on the Sparrow,” Liora told her.

  “You don’t have to sleep on that old ship,” Mrs. Metis replied. “I already have a room made up for you. It’ll be much more comfortable. I’ll show you the way.”

  Chapter 6

  Liora awoke with a start. For a moment, she thought she was still on the Sparrow, but the handmade quilt and glowing orange flowers along the windowsill brought everything back. She squinted in the half-light, unsure what had awoken her.

  “No.”

  Tariq’s voice brought Liora up from her bed on the floor. She tossed the quilt back onto the mattress and padded on silent feet to the door. She glanced up the hall of the small house. Everything was still. She could hear Kiari’s quiet breathing from the room next to her own.

  “Let him go.”

  Liora made her way further down the hall to Tariq’s room. The door was open a crack. She pushed it and it swung inward on quiet hinges.

  Tariq lay on the bed. The blankets had been thrown onto the floor and he clutched the pillow in one arm as though he held someone in a headlock. His eyes were closed tight and a sheen of sweat was visible on his bare chest.

  “Tariq,” Liora said quietly.

  Tariq grimaced, showing clenched teeth.

  “Don’t do it,” he said, his voice tight.

  Liora crossed to his bed. She set a hand on his arm.

  “Tariq, wake up.”

  Tariq moved faster than she was ready. Liora stumbled back, but he caught her arm and threw her against the wall. He landed on top of her and locked an arm around her neck. The pressure of his knee against the small of her back stole Liora’s breath. She tried to struggle, but Tariq was stronger.

  “You killed him,” the human growled in her ear. “It’s all your fault.”

  Black spots danced in Liora’s vision. She elbowed him in the stomach, but his grip only tightened. She clawed at his arm, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain. She felt herself blacking out.

  Liora pushed at him. In her panic, she shoved her fear of being out of control, of being at the mercy of someone who was merciless, of being trapped without an escape.

  Tariq froze.

  “What’s going on?” His words sounded clearer. His grip loosened.

  Liora elbowed him in the stomach and ducked out of his grasp. She backed against the wall, ensuring that there was plenty of space between them if he tried to attack her again.

  “Liora?” Tariq stared at her. Confusion filled his face. “I was dreaming. It was a nightmare. Someone killed Devren. I was fighting back, I…” His eyes widened. “I fought you.”

  Liora watched him warily. Her left side hurt where she had hit the wall, and breathing through a bruised throat wasn’t her favorite thing, but she didn’t let the pain show.

  “I heard you having the nightmare; I tried to wake you up.”

  Tariq looked at the scratch marks along his arm. His words were quiet when he said, “I was choking you.”

  The confused regret in his voice ate at Liora. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall to hide how much his attack had shaken her. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”

  Tariq rose from the floor and took a seat on the edge of his bed. His bare chest heaved with the exertion of their fight. He rubbed his face with one hand.

  Liora reached for the door. “I-I should go.”

  “Wait.”

  Tariq’s quiet plea stopped her. Liora hesitated with one hand on the door latch.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Liora shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have been in your room, I just….” Her words died away.

  “You just what?” Tariq asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Liora didn’t know how to phrase the way she felt. She settled with, “I just couldn’t let you be afraid if I could stop it.”

  Tariq let out a breath. “Like the felis.”

  Liora made herself look at him. “What?”

  He nodded. “That’s why you saved it. You couldn’t let it be trapped if you could do something to rescue it.”

  “Tariq, I don’t—”

  He cut her off. “I felt it, Liora. I felt whatever you did to me. It was like when you beckoned me the day you were dying from the thorn’s poison. I felt it instead of heard it. You spoke inside me.” His voice lowered. “I’ve never been so full of despair. I don’t know what you did just then, but in order to project those emotions onto another person, you had to have felt them first.”

  His words hit too close to home. Liora didn’t know what to say. She wanted to build walls around her heart, to trap him out. There was concern in his eyes when he looked at her; she couldn’t take empathy, not from him.

  “When I said sorry before, it wasn’t for attacking you.” Tariq paused and a wry smile touched his lips. “I mean, of course I feel bad about that and I am sorry, but I was apologizing for the way I treated you before, when you were first aboard the Kratos.”

  “You’re part of the reason I was freed,” Liora replied, watching him.

  Tariq shook his head. “Devren’s the one who got you out, not me.”

  “But you knew he would go back, and you could have stopped him.”

  Tariq looked as though he was about to deny it, but he hesitated. His eyebrows drew together and he conceded, “You might be right about that.”

  Liora couldn’t help a small smile at his concession. “I know that was hard to say.”

  That brought an answering smile from him. “A bit.”

  Liora lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. “I know Devren well enough to know that he wouldn’t have gone against you if you had strictly forbidden him to free me.”

  Tariq shook his head. “I don’t forbid him to do anything. Devren’s his own man.”

  Liora conceded, “But you’re also his best friend. He trusts you, like you trust him. It must be nice to have someone to rely on like that.”

  Tariq nodded. “It is, and if he’d show up, we would know what he’s going to do next. Now, it’s a waiting game.” His hands clenched, letting her know how much he hated not knowing if Devren and the crew of the Kratos were alright.

  “I’m sorry I made you leave him.”

  “I’m also my own man,” Tariq said with the hint of another wry smile. “And I wasn’t about to let you go alone. I don’t have any regrets.”

  “Not any?” Liora asked.

  Tariq opened a hand as if granting her that much. “I regret not killing Obruo. The next time I see him will be his last.”

  Liora knew exactly how he felt. “I have a feeling we won’t have long to wait,” she said
quietly.

  “Your entire home was destroyed?”

  Liora nodded. “I saw it with my own eyes. I don’t know why he’s still alive. It makes no sense.”

  “If he had died….” Tariq’s voice died away.

  Liora finished his unspoken words. “He wouldn’t have been there to kill your wife and child.”

  Silence filled the air between them. She wanted to change the subject, to chase away the pain in his eyes. She nodded to indicate the house. “Verdan is nice. I understand why you came back here.”

  “A planet of darkness where even the vegetation rebels against our terraforming and everything, including the lightning and thunder, is out to kill you?” Tariq replied. There was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Yeah, it’s home.”

  “Are you going to stay?”

  Tariq studied her. “Why would you ask that?”

  Liora didn’t want to admit that she had overheard their conversation in the jungle. “I just noticed the way you look, that’s all.”

  Tariq’s eyebrows drew together a bit. “How do I look?”

  “More at peace,” she replied honestly. “You look like you belong here, like you can relax here. You’re not like that on the Kratos.”

  “It’s a bit hard when every other ship in the Macrocosm is out to kill you,” Tariq admitted. “I never know if I’ll be patching up crew members or sending ashes into the void. It keeps a person a bit on edge.”

  “So which do you prefer?”

  Tariq ran a hand through his hair to push it back from his eyes before he glanced at her again. “Forward, aren’t you?”

  Liora realized she might have crossed a line. “You don’t have to answer,” she said. “Maybe I should go.”