CHAPTER SEVEN

VESPER

K yrion and I made a few more plans with Daichi and Tivona, then signed off. I was lost in my thoughts, as was Kyrion, and neither one of us said much as we left the library and prepared dinner in the ship's kitchen.

Kyrion was quite the chef, and he transformed the fresh vegetables and freeze-dried beef jerky I'd bought in the marketplace into a hearty stew with a side of crispy, cheesy hash browns and a loaf of sourdough oat bread slathered with honey-lime butter. He even made a mango-lemon sorbet topped with a tropical salsa and crystalized ginger that was light, refreshing, and utterly delicious.

After dinner, the two of us went to bed. Kyrion wrapped his arms around me and held me tight like he never wanted to let me go. I hooked my leg over his, drawing him even closer, then buried my face in his neck, drinking in his sharp spearmint scent. His breath was a warm, feathery caress against my skin, and his heart thumped a steady, comforting rhythm under my fingers. We still didn't talk, but his worry rippled through the bond, the emotion as loud, clear, and sharp as my own.

Even if we hadn't been on the run, I still would have been concerned. Kyrion and I had both accepted the truebond, but we hadn't talked about what might happen if we managed to defeat Holloway. We hadn't discussed what the future might hold—or how we really felt about each other.

Ever since the bond had formed, I'd wondered—and worried—how much it was influencing our decisions, especially when it came to our feelings for each other. A few weeks ago, when Kyrion and I had first gotten together on the Dream World , I'd claimed I didn't care about the bond anymore since it had given me a chance to find him.

I'd meant what I'd said, but I also couldn't stop myself from analyzing everything that had happened—and was still happening—between us. In some ways, the truebond was like a brewmaker in the R&D lab, and no matter how bright, shiny, new, and wonderful it was, I couldn't stop poking at it and trying to figure out how it worked—and especially how to make it better.

That poking often took part during our sparring sessions. In addition to training with our stormswords, Kyrion and I had also been testing out each other's psionic abilities. He tried to access my seer magic, while I attempted to do the same with his telekinesis, but neither one of us had any consistent success. Our lack of progress frustrated us both, but on the bright side, our sparring sessions usually ended with us working out that mutual frustration by rolling around on the mat, kissing, and yanking each other's clothes off as fast as possible.

I cared about Kyrion, and he cared about me. I could feel it through the bond. Our physical chemistry was amazing, as was the sex. But did he love me? Did I love him? In the weeks we'd been on board the Dream World , neither one of us had mentioned the word love . If we did love each other, had it all only happened because of the bond? And would all our feelings and potential love vanish if the bond was broken?

Despite my emotional spiraling down an ever-deepening hole of doubt, I was exhausted from the fight with the bounty hunters, and I fell asleep quickly and didn't hear anything until late the next morning. Kyrion had already gotten up, as was his custom, leaving me to sleep in, since I despised getting out of bed before it was absolutely necessary. Another bit of thoughtfulness on his part, which made me care about him even more.

I took a hot shower to soothe away the last of yesterday's aches and pains. Then I donned some fresh clothes, went to the flight deck, and slid into the copilot's seat next to Kyrion.

"You're just in time," he said, sweeping his hand out at the planet in the distance. "Welcome to Sygnustern."

Relief coursed through me. We should be, well, not completely safe, but safer on the Erzton-controlled planet. Holloway couldn't officially send any Arrows and Imperium soldiers here, and I doubted many bounty hunters were looking for us this far from Imperium-controlled space.

"Why does it look so . . . gray?" I asked.

"Apparently, there are lots of mountains, lots of clouds, and lots of fog," Kyrion replied, swiping through a few holograms.

Unlike Tropics planets, which often sparkled like jewels with their aquamarine seas and verdant green rain forests, Sygnustern resembled a dull gray stone suspended in the black ocean of space. The lack of colors was disappointing, but something about the planet made me uneasy, although I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was.

"What do you think will happen once we get down there?"

Kyrion shrugged. "No idea. Despite all my Arrow missions, I've never visited the Erzton home planet. It's not forbidden, though. Many Regals travel to Sygnustern for business and pleasure."

"Is Asterin still supposed to meet us at her workshop?"

Our friend had suggested we rendezvous there so that she could escort us to the estate owned by her stepfather and mother, Aldrich and Verona Collier, who were among the leaders of the Erzton. I wasn't sure why Asterin didn't want us going directly to the Collier estate. Maybe it was some Erzton social rule about not showing up uninvited. Or maybe she didn't want to give the Colliers any advance warning that we were coming so they wouldn't have time to figure out how to politely turn down our request for sanctuary.

Kyrion tapped a holoscreen. "Yes. I just confirmed the location and copied everything to your tablet. With Asterin advocating for us, the Colliers should offer us asylum from the Imperium and Holloway."

"And if they don't?"

Kyrion tensed. We'd both asked this question more than once during the last few weeks, and neither one of us had a concrete answer.

"If the Colliers won't shelter us, then we'll find someplace else to stay," Kyrion replied.

His voice was steady, but a muscle twitched in his jaw, and the sticky cobweb in my mind vibrated with worry. We were risking everything by asking the Colliers for refuge. If things didn't work out, we might very well end up captured, dead, or worse.

But I had another reason for coming to Sygnustern: to learn more about truebonds. According to Asterin, truebonds were not uncommon among her people, and Aldrich and Verona Collier had such a connection. I was hoping the couple might give Kyrion and me some insight into how to master our own abilities.

"Are you ready?" Kyrion asked.

"Now or never, right?" I drawled, trying to make my voice light and cheerful.

The corners of his mouth crooked up into a grin, and some of the worry eased out of the bond. "Now or never, and tried and true."

Kyrion set a course for the planet. As the surface zoomed closer, I stared out the windows, wondering if Sygnustern would really be the safe harbor Asterin claimed—or if new dangers and enemies were waiting for us on the planet.

K yrion punched in the coordinates for a public spaceport, and the blitzer descended. He had been right about the clouds, which quickly enveloped the ship in a thick layer of white. We sat in silence as the blitzer dropped lower . . . and lower . . . and lower . . .

Finally, the clouds thinned out and wisped away, revealing the planet's surface.

Mountains stretched out in all directions, each rocky peak higher and more jagged than the last. Snow capped many of the peaks before giving way to dense forests of gray coniferous trees that jutted up like arrows covering the steep slopes.

Massive waterfalls gushed down many of the mountains, sending up constant sprays of mist. The late morning sun hit the tumbling waters at just the right angles, creating shimmering rainbows that arced from one peak to another. Some of the waterfalls ended in crystal-blue lakes that pooled in the bottoms of the valleys, but some sprays of water plummeted so far down they vanished into the shadows.

The blitzer curved to the right, and a large city loomed into view, sprawling across at least ten different mountain peaks—Gewitter, the capital city of Sygnustern and the seat of Erzton power.

An enormous dome made of different colors of permaglass perched atop the highest mountain peak. A clear spire twirled up from the center of the dome, stretching high enough to tickle the bottoms of the clouds. Similar smaller domes glinted atop the other mountains, as well as farther down on the enormous flat plains that had been carved into the slopes.

The permaglass domes were all deep, rich, vibrant shades—sapphire blue, amethyst purple, ruby red, emerald green—and they glittered like precious jewels just waiting to be plucked out of the surrounding gray stone. Shops and homes made of permaglass, stone, and wood clustered around the domes before spreading out and running down the slopes.

Gigantic gondolas that were bigger than some spaceships cruised along thick metal cables that connected one mountain to another, along with wide bridges crowded with people. I also spotted a few chairlifts that seemed to be a more private—or maybe riskier—method of transportation, since only a few people were using them.

Many of the gondolas, bridges, and lifts crossed over chasms that were thousands of feet deep, but no one seemed concerned that they could plummet to their death should any of the cables and support beams fail. A few small transports also zipped through the air, moving much faster than the lumbering gondolas and churning chairlifts.

"Not what you were expecting from a Temperate planet?" Kyrion asked. "Given how gray it looks from space?"

"Most of the Temperate planets I've visited have been covered with more buildings than mountains. It's not as breathtakingly beautiful as a Tropics planet, but it's pretty in its own way."

Kyrion flipped the switches to engage the autopilot, then hit a button to start the landing sequence. The blitzer glided down past the gondolas and bridges and docked without any problems. The small spaceport looked like any other—a functional, no-frills building surrounded by rows of docking slots—but cold unease trickled down my spine.

I pulled out my tablet and told Asterin we had arrived, although I didn't mention where we had landed. Despite Asterin's assurances that Kyrion and I would be safe on Sygnustern, I didn't want to put our friend in the awkward position of having to reveal the ship's location to the Erzton authorities in case things went wrong.

Asterin messaged me. Glad you're here. No mention of you or Kyrion on the local gossipcasts. Waiting at my workshop. See you soon.

I showed the message to Kyrion, then we left the flight deck and headed to the cargo bay. Kyrion handed me a large duffel bag, then took one for himself, and we both grabbed clothes and other supplies.

Kyrion belted his stormsword to his waist and nestled his blaster into a holster on his right thigh. He also slid a fresh solar magazine into the Techwave cannon so that it was functional again.

Kyrion added a few magazines to his silver bandolier, then tucked the Techwave cannon into the bottom of his duffel bag. I slid my stormsword into a slot on my weapons belt, along with a small blaster.

According to our tablets, the temperature was on the chilly side, so we both donned long gray cloaks over our regular clothes to keep warm and hide our weapons. I'd used up all my supplies making my disguise on Tropics 44, so Kyrion and I couldn't change our hair or eye color, and plastipaper noses and scars would probably freeze to our faces. I didn't like leaving the ship without some sort of disguise, but we didn't have a choice.

We hoisted our duffel bags onto our shoulders.

"You ready?" Kyrion asked.

"Now or never." I repeated my quip from earlier, but this time, he didn't grin back at me.

Kyrion hit a green button on the wall, and the cargo-bay ramp lowered. "Standard operating procedure. If anything feels off, we retreat to the ship and leave."

We strode down to the ground, and then Kyrion hit some buttons on his tablet, raising the ramp and engaging the ship's defensive shield.

The wind slapped me in the face, stinging my cheeks and whipping my hair around my shoulders. The air was bitingly cold, with a faint metallic tang that hinted that snow was on the way. Even though Sygnustern was a Temperate planet and it was technically late summer, the mountains were high enough that wintry weather was always a possibility. I shivered and tucked my chin down into the top of my cloak, trying to find some extra warmth.

Several other ships had also landed at the spaceport, and we fell in with a line of people entering the main building. Kyrion and I both pulled out our tablets and showed our fake IDs as we moved from one checkpoint to another. Kyrion was masquerading as Baron Christian Alejandro Rowell Evanston, while I was his wife, Baroness Sophie-Anne Parker Linley Evanston.

I held my breath every time a guard scanned our tablets, but the lights flashed green one after another, and the guards waved us forward with bored looks. I sent a silent thanks to Daichi, who had created the new fake IDs. Daichi's work was always impeccable, even if he had given me and Kyrion long, outrageous names taken from the romance serials he watched.

We exited the spaceport and stepped into a busy area filled with transports. Most people had their heads down, their eyes fixed on their tablets, as they hurried toward their next destination, but several folks were lined up along a permaglass railing, taking photos and videos of the stunning views of the surrounding mountains.

Kyrion and I headed in that direction. He pulled out his tablet, pretending to take photos while he scanned the crowd, looking for threats. I used my own tablet to plot a route to the rendezvous coordinates.

"We're supposed to meet Asterin on that mountain." I pointed at a peak directly opposite this one. "Want to try a bridge? Walking might be quicker than taking a gondola."

Kyrion peered over the side of the railing. His face took on a slightly greenish tint, his stomach gurgled, and the sticky cobweb in my mind bristled with unease.

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Don't tell me the great Kyrion Caldaren, one of the most notorious killers and feared warriors in all the galaxy, is afraid of heights."

Kyrion straightened up and peered down his nose at me, morphing into the arrogant Regal lord and deadly Arrow I knew so well. "I am not afraid of heights. Merely of plummeting to my death from them."

I laughed and threaded my arm through his. A reluctant grin crooked his lips, and he bent down so that his mouth was close to my ear.

"No matter what happens, I'm glad I'm here with you, Vesper," Kyrion said in a low, husky voice.

Emotion clogged my throat, and it took me a moment to respond. "Me too."

Arm in arm, we followed the signs to the nearest gondola station, bought tickets, and climbed on board. Unlike gondolas I had seen on other planets, which were only single cars, this one featured several cars all linked together like a train so passengers could move back and forth between the compartments.

We found some seats in the corner and put our backs to the glass. Several folks eyed us, and my heart rose in my throat, matching the gondola's slow motion. Had someone recognized us?

Across the aisle, a little girl tugged on her mother's sleeve. "Mama, why are their clothes so dull?"

"Shhh!" the mother hissed, shooting us an apologetic look. "Remember, we don't comment on what outsiders wear."

Dull clothes? Outsiders? I glanced around the gondola car. Everyone was bundled up in thick coats or cloaks, along with hats, scarves, and gloves, but Kyrion and I were the only people dressed in dark, drab gray. Everyone else was sporting the same jewel-toned colors as the permaglass domes that topped the mountains. Intricate patterns were also woven into the bright, cheerful fabrics, everything from snowflakes and icicles to cursive letters to hammers, axes, and other tools. Not patterns—sigils, just like the ones the Regals used to distinguish their Houses.

Kyrion and I had wanted to blend in, but our plain clothes made us stick out.

"So much for going incognito," he muttered.

I grimaced, but there was nothing we could do. Not wearing the cloaks would make us even more noticeable, given the chilly temperature.

A few more folks stared at us, but most people focused on either their tablets or the amazing views as the gondola quickly, smoothly climbed over to the neighboring mountain.

Fifteen minutes later, the gondola glided into its station, and the doors slid back. Once again, Kyrion and I fell in with the flow of people. Unlike the section in front of the spaceport, which was clearly for travelers, this was part of the actual city of Gewitter. Most folks were walking to their destination, but some zipped by on vehicles that were a cross between hoverbikes and snowmobiles. Several horse-drawn carriages decked out with silver bells jingle-jangled merrily over the cobblestones, with the passengers in the open-air vehicles wrapped up in blankets to ward off the cold.

I checked my tablet. Still no warnings from Asterin, so I called up the rendezvous coordinates again and pointed to the left. "Asterin's workshop is that way."

"Let's go," Kyrion said, his gaze flicking back and forth, studying everyone around us. "The sooner we get there, the better."

We walked along the main street, skirting around the throngs of people clustered around the busy shops, which were selling everything from clothes and shoes to real paper books and stationery to mouthwatering scones and cakes. Many of the shops were also filled with long glass cases, which contained hunks of stone and chunks of wood resting on white velvet trays.

"Mineral exchanges," Kyrion explained, seeing my curious looks. "Along with wood, stone, and other raw resources. Dealers put out samples of their products so customers can see what quality and grade of materials are available and decide how much to bid on them."

The Erzton controlled hundreds of planets and moons rich in raw resources, and they were always searching for more, just like the Imperium was constantly looking for psionic outliers to add to the Regal Houses and bloodlines. Back at Quill Corp, I'd received dozens of memos about the materials the production plants needed to buy from the Erzton, but those had been abstract numbers, so it was fascinating to see how the process worked here on Sygnustern.

Kyrion and I turned a corner and stepped onto a much quieter side street that led to a massive dome that rose hundreds of feet into the air. The dome was made of enormous panels of emerald-green permaglass connected by thick seams of gold and smaller gold bolts, like it was a giant tortoise shell. Antiques Emporium was painted in gold in an elegant cursive script on a dark green wooden sign.

"Asterin's workshop is on the other side of the dome," I said, sliding my tablet back into my pocket.

Kyrion nodded. "Let's cut through the emporium. It should be quicker than going around."

The double doors were open, so we entered the building. A wide corridor circled around the entire dome, so we crossed it and went through another set of open doors. My breath caught in my throat, and Kyrion stopped beside me, his wonder rippling through the bond.

From the outside, the permaglass had looked green, but inside it was clear and offered a magnificent view of the surrounding mountains. More clouds cloaked the sky, and a few flakes of snow were drifting down, making it seem as though Kyrion and I were inside an oversize snow globe.

Thick cables dangled like golden icicles from the curved ceiling, each one ending in a bright golden bulb shaped like a four-pointed star. A much larger, longer green glass spike dropped down from the center of the ceiling like an enormous stalactite. Gold seams glowing with light ribboned around the spike's jagged edges and glittering, sparkling facets.

My gaze flicked from the seams to the spike and then up along the curve of the dome. My seer magic kicked in, highlighting each section in a soft silver flare and showing me how they all worked together. The gold seams and green glass might look pretty, but they had a much more practical purpose: they were solar wiring and panels that provided energy, light, and heat for the structure. Impressive.

Aisle after aisle ran from this end of the dome all the way to the other far in the distance, as well as from side to side. Booths, tables, and carts lined the aisles, along with shelves, bookcases, and glass curio cabinets that held a wide variety of objects: books, clothes, tools, dishes, weapons, even some old brewmakers and other appliances. Almost all the items were made of real stone, wood, and glass, instead of the polyplastic versions I was used to. Some of the items had obviously been well used, but many gleamed as if they had never even been touched.

"I've heard about places like this," I murmured to Kyrion as we strode down one of the smaller aisles. "Places where people buy things that are old instead of new."

He nodded. "The Erzton is much more environmentally conscious than the Imperium. The Erztonians reuse and recycle as many items for as long as possible, whereas the Regals are always throwing out the old in favor of the newest invention."

We moved deeper into the antiques emporium. Several people were browsing through the goods, but no one gave us a second look, as they were all focused on finding whatever hidden treasure they were searching for.

"Touma would love this place," Kyrion said.

A smile curved my lips. Touma Hirano was Daichi's uncle, a spelltech who dabbled in all sorts of illegal things. Touma had a cluttered workshop on Corios that was stuffed from top to bottom with odds and ends. If the spelltech were here, he would be rubbing his hands together in glee and flitting from one booth to the next, searching for the perfect parts and pieces to take back to his workshop.

The smile faded from my lips, and guilt bubbled up in my chest like a Magma volcano about to erupt. No, that was wrong. Touma couldn't go back to his workshop, just like I couldn't return to Quill Corp. The spelltech had helped us escape from Crownpoint, and now he was a wanted fugitive, the same as Kyrion and me.

"There's an open space in the middle of the dome up ahead," Kyrion said. "We'll have to cross it to reach the other side."

I shook off my guilty thoughts, and we headed in that direction.

As we moved deeper into the antiques emporium, the shoppers thinned out, the murmurs of conversation vanished, and an eerie quiet cloaked the air. A finger of cold unease slid down my spine. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I felt like someone was watching us—

Ding!

A soft chime shattered the quiet. A woman looking through a display of books pulled out her tablet. She glanced at the message, then looked around. Her gaze landed on us. For a moment, she froze, then her eyes widened, and she scurried around the far side of the booth, moving away from us.

Kyrion quickened his steps, and I hurried to keep up with his long strides.

"Someone knows we're here," he said in a low voice, his gaze sweeping from side to side. "We need to get out of this building."

I pulled out my tablet and messaged Asterin, saying we had been spotted. My tablet dinged almost immediately with a response.

On my way!

I slid my tablet back into my pocket. Asterin might get here in time to help us, but we couldn't count on it.

Kyrion and I walked even faster. This aisle opened into the wide, circular space in the very center of the dome, directly underneath the green solar spike. Up close, it was even more beautiful, and the sharp, gold-pointed tip was only about a hundred feet above our heads.

Kyrion and I stepped into the open space. No one was browsing through the surrounding aisles. The silence was more eerie and absolute than before, but my seer magic kept whispering a warning that we weren't alone.

Kyrion pushed his cloak back, revealing his stormsword. His hand clenched around the silver hilt, which featured small carvings of stars, eyes, and arrows clustered around a large sapphsidian jewel shaped like the House Caldaren sigil arrow. Curls of silver stretched out in opposite directions to form the weapon's crossguard, while other pieces of silver snaked up and wrapped around the base of the lunarium blade.

"No matter what happens, if you see a chance to escape, take it," he said.

"No," I growled. "I'm not leaving you. I will never leave you."

Warmth sparked in Kyrion's eyes. The same heat rippled through the bond, but it was quickly followed by a wave of stubbornness. He opened his mouth to argue—

Soft footsteps rasped against the gray stone floor, and a woman rounded a curio cabinet, strode forward, and stopped in front of us on the opposite side of the circular center space.

The woman was our age, late thirties, with light brown skin and long black hair sleeked up into a ponytail. Bright green shadow and liner rimmed her hazel eyes, while pale gold gloss covered her lips. She was wearing an emerald-green tactical jacket over a matching shirt and cargo pants, along with thick black work boots. A delicate gold pendant shaped like a cursive C with two hammers crossed in front of it dangled from a thin gold chain around her neck.

But the most eye-catching thing about the woman was the weapon in her right hand. The long gold hilt was topped with a large piece of lunarium that had a familiar shape—a flat hammer head on one side and a sharp, wicked-looking spike on the other. The war hammer was similar to those Pollux had used during the junkyard fight.

My stomach twisted with worry. Was this woman another corporate mercenary?

"She's a Hammer," Kyrion muttered. "I recognize her face from Holloway's files."

The woman hoisted her war hammer up onto her shoulder. Sparks flickered and shimmered deep inside the lunarium, and the weapon started glowing a soft, pale green. Not just a Hammer but also a psion.

Footsteps sounded behind us, and Kyrion and I both spun to the side. Several more people appeared, all clutching war hammers and wearing the same green uniform as the woman. The Hammers formed a loose circle, then stopped and studied us with hostile expressions. My heart sank into the choppy sea of worry churning in my stomach.

We were surrounded.