Chapter 23: The Choice

The cold dust of Mourne blew in through the open airlock.

Beyond it the shuttle waited, white and lit, with its ramp down.

I looked at the four men.

"You aren't going to say anything?"

"We said it," Rafe replied. "We said it with the door."

"Rafe's speech was longer," Kit said. "I talked him out of it."

"What was the speech?"

"That you should go." Rafe's voice was rough. "That we have nothing to give you but four bad records and a prison."

"If you go, we'll know you were never trapped here."

I put down my bag.

"I was trapped," I said. "I woke up on top of a man I had never met, with blood on the tools."

"Nobody asked me if I wanted a bond. I didn't ask for any of you."

Nobody moved.

"I'm asking now."

I stepped forward and pressed the control with my own hand.

The airlock door slid shut, and the dust stopped.

"I'm staying," I said. "I choose it. Not the bond, not the gold. Me."

Kit made a small sound in his throat.

Bastian shut his eyes.

Stellan stepped in front of the others and put his forehead against mine.

"Then tell us what you want," he said softly.

I took a breath.

"My door doesn't lock tonight," I said. "All four of you. Come."

We did not make it to my cell.

Bastian lifted me off the floor in the corridor, and the others closed in around us.

They carried me through the dark blocks to the biggest room in Cinderhold.

It was the old Warden's quarters, with a wide bed that had never held anyone worth the trouble.

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