“Cy,” she said again, softly this time as she reached out to put her hand on his, stilling him. “Cy, listen–”

Briefly, he met her eyes. They were fixed on him, full of sadness, pain, sorrow and he knew somehow that she had slept just as little as he had. He couldn’t stop himself from grasping that hand, if even for a moment. But in the end, he said, “Addy, there’s no time. We have to go.”

Now, confusion crossed her face. “What? Why?”

Cyrus opened his mouth to explain, but it wasn’t his voice that filled the room. “P’ahti?” Both parents looked over to find Kalli in her nightdress, rubbing her eyes and standing in the doorway.

“Issyen,” Cyrus cooed, abandoning his packing attempts and rushing over to the door, sweeping the girl up in his arms. He fought the images of her captured away from his mind’s eye.

“P’ahti, what’s wrong?” Kalli asked in a hushed voice, reaching out her tiny hand to touch Cyrus’ face.

“Nothin’, issyen, nothin’, we’re just getting ready to go, that’s all.” The assurance seemed to work and he felt the girl relax a little in his arms, but when he turned back to Addy she was still frowning at him in a desperate attempt to understand what was going on.

He didn’t want to say the word in front of Kalli. She knew what the Society was. She knew it meant danger. And the last thing he wanted was a panicking child, so instead he wrapped his arms around her tighter, leaning her head into his shoulder and over her back mouthed, ‘Society.’

But Addy just frowned deeper and mouthed back, ‘What?’

‘Society,’ he tried again, moving his lips more dramatically and gesturing to the window, but still, she just shook her head and shrugged. He was about to try again when yet another voice cut him off.

“We have a problem. The Society’s here.” It was Eriaas. For once, the man wasn’t his usual spotless put-together self. His robe was dissheveled, he had bags under his eyes and his hair stuck up at all angles. Cyrus might have actually appreciated the sight under different circumstances, but as it were…

“What?” Addy demanded, her own eyes going wide and her face pale. Kalli squirmed in Cyrus’ grasp and looked around at them all in growing horror. “Here? Why?”

“I wish I knew,” Eriaas muttered, glancing over his shoulder as though someone might sneak up and attack him at any moment. “I’ve had no bad relations with them personally, but–” He raised his brows pointedly at the family in the room. “Obviously the timing could be better…”

Kalli was growing more and more restless by the minute, but Cyrus just held her tighter as he asked, “You think they’re here for us?”

“How could they be?” Addy demanded. “The Dionysian is untrackable, there’s no way anyone would know we were dropped off here.”

“It doesn’t matter why they’re here, we just need to leave,” Cyrus decided as Kalli wriggled so hard, he had no choice but to lean down and set her on her own two feet where she simply seized his pant leg in fear.

“It’s a little late for that,” Eriaas argued. “They’re already touching down.”

Cyrus glanced out the window just as the sleek grey shape of the ship descended into view. At once, Addy slid the curtains shut. “He’s right. If we had an opportunity, we missed it,” she said.

“So what, we just wait here for them to find us?” Cyrus demanded.

“Well hang on, now, Cy,” Eriaas argued, holding up his hand. “We don’t know why they’re here. It could be that they just want to meet with me and then leave. No harm done.”

Cyrus met Addy’s eyes across the room as she muttered, “That’s a pretty big risk.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth, a voice filled the COMM speakers. “Sir? An Agent Parnassé at the door for you?”

Eriaas’ jaw tightened. “Not sure you have much of a choice.” He stepped back through the door and began to close it behind him. “Stay here.”

Cyrus strode over to the door and put his hand on it, almost just to assure himself that it was closed. Kalli was still clinging to his pant leg as she looked up at him and mumbled. “P’ahti?”

“It’s okay, issyen, everything’s gonna be okay,” he assured her as Addy joined them at the door and ruffled a hand through Kalli’s hair. The little girl only gripped Cyrus tighter.

“Maybe he’s right,” Addy whispered, locking eyes with him. “Maybe they just want to talk and they’ll leave.”

Cyrus nodded, wanting to believe it, but he found himself holding his breath as he heard, on the floor below them, the front door sliding open.

“Eriaas Argoatan?” asked a brisk female voice followed by Eriaas himself.

“Agent Parnassé, was it? Please, please, come in.”

“I’m so sorry to disturb you at what must be this early hour.” Footsteps clicked across the foyer. “We’ve been on black time for quite a while. I forget morning still exists planetside.”

“Of course, of course, I understand. Not a worry,” Eriaas insisted. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? Eat?”

“Ah, yes, actually,” Parnassé answered. “A spot of breakfast wouldn’t go amiss.”

“I’ll have my chef start on something right away.”

“Oh, but I must ask, our ship. Is it alright docked where it is?” There was hesitation on Eriaas’ end. “For the long term, I mean.”

“Sorry, long term?”

“Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself. I haven’t even told you why we’re here, have I?”

“You may have left that out I’m afraid.”

Cyrus nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his back. He looked over at Addy who was leaned as closely to the door as he was, listening in. Concern marked her features, anticipation in her stance and when she glanced over at him, she swallowed hard.

“You see, Mr. Argoatan. Can I call you Eriaas? Excellent. We are planning an expedition of sorts. Looking to uncover an ancient device unseen by human eyes for millennia. We’ve heard about your entrepreneurial investments. I’m here to negotiate your involvement.”

Eriaas let out a laugh that sounded a little too relieved. “But of course. I’d be happy to hear your proposal over breakfast, if you’ll just come right this–”

“I’m afraid that’s not all I must ask, Eriaas,” Parnassé cut him off. “I hate to encroach upon the hospitality of a man I’ve only just met, but our expedition? The trail we’ve uncovered to the device? It begins here.”

A long pause passed before Eriaas found his voice and asked, “How long are you looking to stay?”

Parnassé let out an infectious laugh. “Let’s discuss over breakfast, shall we?”

As two sets of footsteps headed out of the foyer towards the dining room, growing quieter and quieter until they faded out entirely, Cyrus couldn’t breathe. No one in the room said a word until suddenly he felt a tug on his pant leg.

“P’ahti? P’ahti, can we leave now?”

Cyrus looked down at Kalli and tried to muster an encouraging smile. “No, issyen. No, I’m afraid we can’t.”

“Not this again?” Cyrus barked through a bitter laugh. “What, the thing that hasn’t changed? Over five years? Gods, Addy, you act like you’ve been given a death sentence since the day I knocked you up. That you’re here because you have to be, that you went to Archeti because you have to, that everything that’s happened up to now is because I forced your hand. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“I never acted like–”

“I’ve tried to make you happy,” he insisted. “Have I been very good at it? Apparently not. But I’ve tried. I love you. I want to be with you. Hell, how many times do I have to say this, I want to marry you–”

“And of course, it goes back to that,” Addy cut him off, putting her hand on her head.

“–and of course, that’s your reaction,” Cyrus growled right back. “And you wonder why–”

“Cyrus, the only reason you want to marry me so bad is to make yourself feel better.” It was perhaps a cruel accusation, Addy realized after she’d said it and she saw the flash of pain across his face. But it didn’t make her feel any less strongly about it. “You want to lock it in so you can assure yourself that everything is fine. But everything is not fine.”

He was nodding slowly now, like she’d just punched him in the gut and he was having a hard time coming to terms with it. “So the excuse about wanting a Ridellian ceremony on Satieri–”

“It’s not an excuse. I do want a Ridellian ceremony. And that is a whole other thing. Do we even need to discuss how you act about my religion?”

“What, the ancient star beings thing?” he responded, rolling his eyes and proving her point. When she just stared at him firmly, he frowned. “What? I’m sorry, it’s ridiculous.”

Addy crossed her arms over her chest and waved a hand in the air. “And important to me.” When she glanced pointedly at him, he clenched his jaw and said nothing. There was a silence between them that suddenly she felt very inclined to fill. “Maybe that’s the root of it,” she said, talking but not sure where she was going. “That what’s important to me…isn’t what’s important to you.”

The words slipped out of her before she could catch them and there they sat, hovering between them as they stared each other down in the hallway. Cyrus didn’t argue them. How could he? They were more poignant than Addy even cared to admit. She loved Cyrus and she knew he loved her, but neither of them could deny that their relationship wasn’t the stuff of legends. It wasn’t even the stuff of a good story. At best, it was a disheartening look at two people that had jumped into something far too serious far too soon. And these days, it was really starting to show.

“We’re not very good at this are we?” Cyrus said at last, his voice quiet, all traces of anger and argument gone now.

“No,” Addy agreed, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think we are…”

He was nodding again, his eyes downcast. “Maybe–I’m just gonna sleep in the shuttle.”

Addy nodded back, slowly. “Okay.”

He caught her eyes briefly, a heavy burden of sadness behind them, before turning down the hall and disappearing down the stairs.

————————————-

The shuttle they had rented, as it turned out, was not a very comfortable sleeping location. Cyrus rolled off the hard, cold cot shortly after the sun began streaming through the cockpit window, but he’d been drifting in between wakingness and uncomfortable dreams about his fight with Addy for what felt like hours.

His feet recoiled as they met the freezing surface of the metallic floor, but he winced and forced his aching body to a stand. One more minute in this cramped rental was too much and not just due to claustrophobia. His sleepless night of bad dreams and solitary contemplation had at least brought him to one realization: that he needed to fix this. And he needed to fix it now.

Cyrus hadn’t bothered undressing the night before and his luggage was still inside Eriaas’ house, so he just slipped on his shoes and stepped out into the sharp morning air. The salty sea wind enveloped him and he sucked in a deep breath that made his lungs ache as he squinted through the morning light at the mansion atop the hill.

You can do this, he told himself. Just apologize and be better. They’d had fights before. Honestly, they had fights more than Cyrus cared to admit. This one may have been different, it may have been worse, but it was still solvable, he knew. It had to be.

So he started the walk up the path, bracing himself against the wind that seemed determined to knock him over and rehearsing lines in his head. He was almost to the door when he noticed the wind suddenly getting louder. And louder. And…more mechanical?

Confused, he looked up and was unsurprised to find a ship still many miles up coming in for a landing. One of Eriaas’ friends probably? Another business associate? Well Cyrus hardly cared. He didn’t want to stick around this place any longer anyway. The arrival of more guests was a perfect reason not to.

But just before he looked away, something about the ship caught his eye and made his breath catch in his throat. As the ship descended through the ocean haze and grew steadily more clear, it became more and more noticeable. The mark on its bow. That symbol. The librera.

Shit.

He was probably still the size of an ant to them at that altitude, but Cyrus nonetheless sprinted the rest of the path and rammed his finger into the COMM button in case that changed soon.

“Argoatan residence, how may I–” began the professional door-answerer, but Cyrus cut him off.

“It’s Cyrus, can you let me in?” he asked, trying not to sound as rushed and desperate as he felt.

“Mr. Soliveré?” asked the voice. “Why are you–”

“Please,” he begged again, “Please, just let me in.”

“Of course, wouldn’t want to–” said the voice and the door slid open. Cyrus hurried inside and ran down the hall toward the stairs long before he could hear the second part of that sentence.

They had to get out of there. They had to leave and quickly. Gods, was it already too late? How the hell could they escape with that ship so close? It was right there. It would see them and as soon as it did? Cyrus didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about Kalli in the clutches of the Society. He couldn’t.

Addy was still in bed when he pulled open the door to the room she’d been staying in, but she didn’t look like she’d been asleep when she blinked up at him, squinting through the light.

“Cy–” she began, apology already heavy in her voice, but now was not the time for apology.

“Addy, get your things,” he insisted, crossing the room to their luggage and started piling what little had been laid out back into the bags.

She frowned at him and slowly lifted herself from the bed. “Wh — ”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he went on, ignoring her.

Javier, as always, was busy reading off messages. “Admiral Gates would like you to put in a word to the Ellegian News Network about the Vescentian riots.”

“He wouldn’t like the word I’d use. Ignore,” said Fiearius abruptly as he crossed the room. His loyal crew gave him a chorus of grunts as greeting and Maya said, “Extras in the kitchen, cap’n.”

Leta had found that Fiearius was hardly present on the Dionysian’s lower decks anymore. Instead, he was constantly occupied in the bridge, sending out orders to his fleet scattered across the Span. But he did make a point of sharing meals with them whenever he could. She’d been here all of a week and hardly seen him save for breakfasts, dinners and an occasional late night drink before he got back to work.

Still, few as those moments had been, Leta couldn’t deny she’d appreciated them.

Unintentionally, she met his eyes as he passed towards the kitchen and he smirked. She returned it with a tilt of her head before going back to her food.

Meanwhile, Javier went on. “Parés is asking for more ships again.”

“Ignore.”

“Arsen requests you pull your people out of the eastern front on Ascendia.”

“Ignore.”

“Commander Lirien wants to know if he can see you again.”

“Ignore.”

“Quin’s got a status update on the west Ascendia operation.”

Leta heard Fiearius heave a deep sigh. “Alright, hit me.”

“Area acquired, ten lost, thirty wounded.”

Beside Leta, Richelle sucked in a breath through her teeth and shared a solemn glance with Maya over the table.

“She’s awaiting further instructions,” Javier finished as Fiearius exited the kitchen and took his place at the end of the table. Leta observed him quietly as he brandished his fork without touching the food. He looked tired, but he always looked tired these days. Now, it was almost as if he was so tired, it didn’t phase him anymore.

And in fact, he sounded appropriately numb when he said, “Send a message to the Carthian lead in Ascendia proper, get shuttles out there for the injured. Tell Quin to take a break and head back to the CORS. I’ll meet her there when I can.”

Javier nodded and made a note on his tablet dutifully before finally sitting down himself and placing the thing aside, face down. An important part of the daily ritual, Leta had noticed. No messages, no contact, no disasters. Just for an hour.

“So,” Fiearius began suddenly, his tone a lot lighter, though perhaps forcedly so. “How’s my dear crew doing? Being nice to our guest?” He gestured towards Leta.

“Leta’s not a guest,” Javier flared up at once. “She’s family.”

Fiearius glanced over at her and upon catching his eye, she raised her brows expectantly. Yeah, she thought, what do you have to say about that?

But Fiearius just grinned and amended, “Of course, sorry. Being nice to our estranged cousin? Distant aunt? Prodigal daughter?”

Leta noticed Maya rolled her eyes, but Richelle was the one who answered, “Just fine, cap’n.”

“You forget your crew doesn’t have the detriments of your sparkling personality,” put in Leta to which he grunted a laugh.

On the other side of the table, Eve was all business. “So we’re headed for Ascendia, cap’n?” she asked.

“Not quite,” Fiearius answered. “Ascendian cluster, but not Ascendia itself. Got a very important target to take care of.” He caught Leta’s eye briefly, as though to ensure she didn’t elaborate on that any further. Apparently he didn’t even trust his mission to assassinate the Society Councillors to his crew.

Though Eve might have not taken that hint. “What’s the target?” she asked. “When can you brief me?”

Leta saw Fiearius’ awkward grimace before he brushed it aside and told her patiently, “Actually, you won’t be coming with me. Sorry, Harper. This one’s a little different.”

But if he wasn’t taking Eve, Leta realized —

“You’re going in alone on this?” she demanded.

To her surprise, he made the same expression as before, as though caught in a compromising position. “Not…exactly,” he admitted.

Before Leta could question him, a voice rang out behind her that made her jump. “Is this the kind of right moment you told me to wait for?”

She knew who it was before she even turned around to find the bulky shape of Desophyles Cordova leaning in the doorway. Leta wasn’t even the only one surprised.

“Where the hell did he come from?” Maya demanded, her eyes wide.

“Boarded when you dropped off the cute little family yesterday,” Dez answered. “Your captain didn’t think anyone else needed to know, though.” He looked back to Fiearius. “So was this it? The right moment?”

Fiearius had his head in his hand looking rather uncomfortable. “Maybe?” He ventured a glance at Leta, perhaps expecting her to explode at him, but Leta didn’t explode. She didn’t yell. She didn’t even feel a particularly strong urge to get up and leave the room.

Instead, all she could manage was a groan. “Are you kidding me?”