Chapter 8: Day Zero

The cutter lifted off in a spray of red dust, and the relay tower on the ridge went dark.

The blue beacon faded.

The holo died in mid-air, and the sky over Ghostfall settled back into rust and shadow.

Nobody in the yard spoke.

Then Lucan kicked a barrel across the dirt.

"Cut it all," he said. "He said it. We heard him."

"Good," Maxine said.

They all turned to look at her.

"If he's cutting everything on day six, he's frightened." She wiped her hands on her apron.

"The other brides got forty days. I got six, because I'm cooking."

"Or because you made his son look like a coward on live feed," Dax said, with a hungry sort of pride.

Rhys had been counting under his breath.

"We have about five days of rations for seven," he said. "Eight mouths now. Vine and roots can stretch it. Not for long."

"Lucan," Maxine said. "How many dead ships are on this moon?"

The fox blinked. "A few hundred."

"How many held food stores?"

"Oh." His grin came back, slow. "Oh, I see where this is going."

"I know three that never got looted. One has a cold hold the Court forgot."

"Then tomorrow you show me."

"My lady, I'd show you the stars."

"Tomorrow," Rhys said, "we pick a perimeter and a guard rota."

He looked at her.

"And you sleep in the sickbay, with a man outside the door. All night."

"I'll be fine."

"You will be unharmed," Rhys said, flat as a blade. "That is not negotiable."

She let it go.

Her wrist was swollen and bleeding where Alden's claws had dug in, and she was too tired to argue.

The sickbay lamps burned low.

Maxine sat on the exam table in her undershirt while Isak cleaned the four torn cuts with a swab.

His white coat sleeves were rolled to the elbow.

His hands were completely steady.

"Hold still," he said.

"I am still."

"You flinch when I touch the edge."

"Because it stings."

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