What Happens in Orbit Pt. 24

Isaura hadn't looked quite as excited as she'd tried to be. Cora made her way back to her hotel room, crossing the street from the offices. I wonder if she wants to come with us. I wonder if she even can.

They hadn't given her a time estimate, just that the ship would be arriving... soon.

Cora looked down at her clothes as she searched for the room key. She'd gotten sick of everyone sticking her in Dollar General sweatsuits every time they got the chance.

Kneeling in front of her bag, Cora pulled out several folded outfits.

She'd felt weird wearing these on Earth. Tor and Mar had been excessively secretive about where they'd come from, or how much they'd cost. Fit wasn't a problem, Roshak clothes had to work with a wide variety of body shapes and configurations. Loose pair of pants, undershirt, and her favorite part, the vest. It was made with crisscrossing pleats, tacked down with tiny, neat stitches.

One set was a deep brown, one a neutral sage green, and one a lighter brown, the fabric interwoven with shimmering copper threads.

That one was too fancy. Wrapping it back up and tucking it away, Cora settled on the green pair.

Her hair was gathered together in a stiff lump at the nape of her neck. Poking at it, she sighed. She'd have to shower first.

In the shower, Cora kept feeling something unsettling come over her. I know I'm excited. Why do I feel like this? I want to leave. I want to.

She sat down under the water, poking at a particularly mildewy patch near her. I feel like shit. She turned the water colder. Maybe it was the coffee. Maybe it was the- Her stomach turned, suddenly and violently.

"Don't think about the bugs, Cora," she told herself, taking a shaky breath. I need a peppermint or something.

She turned the water colder still.

Her hands shook as she uncapped the tiny sample-size shampoo and started to work it into her hair.

Unfortunately, the Refreshing Lemongrass Ginger Champú, completely tolerable a week ago, was now reminiscent of rotting cabbage. She gagged, chucking the bottle away and tried in vain to rinse it out of her hair before she got sick.

The cold water didn't help at all.

It was definitely the coffee. Cora groaned as she gingerly brushed her teeth. I'm okay. It was just the coffee.

It had taken her an entire half-hour to get dressed, bouts of dizziness prompting her to kneel on the laminate floor, pressing her forehead into the cool tiles.

She left the vest just loosely tied, unwilling to anger her stomach any more.

Now, Cora sat in the shade on the edge of the negotiated landing zone, nibbling at apple slices given to her by a concerned Isaura.

"You don't look okay at all."

Cora had shrugged. "I haven't had coffee in years. I don't think I can have it anymore."

The apples were crisp and sour, to her immense relief. The thought of sugary styrofoam apples set her stomach burning again. Fuck.

She'd fallen asleep at some point, waking up to Isaura trying and failing to pick her up. "Are they here?"

"No, not yet."

"Darn." Barely awake, Cora was already tearing up. The sun had gone down completely, the field lit poorly by a pair of halogen lamps on either end.

She groaned. "Okay, I can go back to my room. I didn't mean to fall asleep out here."

The once-scratchy canvas of her clothes had softened after a few months of aggressive wear and even more aggressive cleaning. Cora buried her face in the crook of her arm. Her long-sleeved undershirt still held a faint, metallic pine scent. I hope they come soon.

Cora woke up to her room's phone ringing. It was Isaura again. "They tell me your friends are entering orbit now, you have maybe an hour."

Still tired, she slung her bag over her shoulder, brushing haphazardly at her clothes.

As she stepped out into the sun, her heart rate started to quicken. Something was glinting in the mid-day sky.

Cora's excitement fizzled out as she stepped onto the descent ship. Something was off. A pair of Sheevae officers waited inside, eyeing her. Their mannerisms were much closer to humans than the Foshar's, and Cora could tell they were not happy.

She sat in an open seat. "Thank you for coming to get us."

"It wasn't our choice," replied one of them. Cora watched, confused, as the other elbowed the one who'd spoke.

Memories of the discussion she'd had with Tarina flooded back. Ooh. Oh, shit. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Cora relaxed in her seat, signing an it's fine gesture for Mital. "You... both seem pretty angry about having to pick us up."

They eyed each other, turning back to her slowly. "Koramin liked you. She trusted you."

Cora nodded, choosing her words carefully. "I like her. She showed me a lot of kindness."

The two were the same color, but one had much longer fins. This one leaned forward, regarding her cruelly. "You realize she's dead now, right?"

What the fuck is going on? Cora tilted her head. "Were you there when the Grand Mother came to get me?"

They squinted at her, not responding.

Shit. "I knew something happened, but I was sent back to Earth before I found out exactly what."

Why would Tarina send anyone not from her inner circle? Knowing about the unrest? Cora hadn't had a lot of time to get to know the new Sheevae ruler, but she knew she wasn't an idiot.

Please let them be up there.

"Hm." They turned, ignoring her.

Mital leaned in, but Cora clasped her hands, hushing him. Not right now.

Before Cora's eyes could adjust to the ship's lights, she was in Mar's arms. Tai and Della stood behind him, waiting patiently. Pressing her cheek to Mar's, she smiled. "I missed you all so much."

Pushing away, Cora jumped back to the ground. "Are the kids here?"

Tai shook his head. "They're back on the queen's ship. All of them."

"All? All?" Cora whirled back to face Mar. He nodded, but his smile was forced.

He'd noticed whatever Cora had noticed, too.

Frustration welled up in her chest. They should have been allowed to enjoy this, but the too-blank faces of the Sheevae surrounding them made it difficult.

We can relax once we're back on Tarina's ship.

"I'm- I'm sorry, I'm really tired. Can we...?" Cora made a vague gesture, hoping they'd understand. Mital stood behind her uncertainly. "I know he needs rest, too." Really, she just wanted privacy.

They flanked her, Mar walking behind her. None of the Sheevae followed.

"Did something happen?" Cora gestured at Mital, trying to get him to walk closer.

Mar shook his head. "We don't know. It's been like this since we left. There was a lot of rioting. Tarina decided to announce her mother's death, but nothing else."

Why wait for me?

Della paused at a door. "This one's empty if you want it." He looked to Mital.

"Oh. Thanks." Mital opened the door, closing it quickly behind him.

He opened it again. "I'm staying in here until it's safe." He gave Cora a pointed look, one that mirrored the one she'd given him several times.

"Okay."

The next door was theirs. Tai pushed it open, glancing down the hall before entering. Mar was last to enter, stopping just in the doorway, checking the hall again.

The minute the door shut behind them, Cora let out a loud sigh. "What a mess."

"We can speak freely, Mar already checked for any listening devices."

"What the fuck is going on?"

Della shrugged. "It's been like this since we boarded. You'd think Tarina would've made sure the crew picking you up were more, y'know, friendly. Or at least not complete jackasses."

Mar was nodding, but he wasn't paying attention. His eyes drifted back towards the doorway.

"Mar?" Cora tilted her head.

"Hm?" He turned back to her, forcibly brightening his expression.

"What's wrong?"

"There's something I want to go check on. It's been bothering me."

Tai sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs and giving Mar a hard look. "Something?"

"Nothing serious. I'll be right back."

He ducked out of the room before they could argue.

Cora knew that expression. Five minutes and I go after him.

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments. "I'll go after him in a bit and make sure he's not doing anything stupid."

Della's eyes darted to his crate.

"No. I'm sure we're fine. We're supposed to be trusting Tarina, remember?" Tai reached out, poking Della in his side.

"Mmm."

Cora stood abruptly. "Yeah, no, I'll go get him. It's not that I don't think we're safe, I just want him here with us."

It was a smaller ship, much smaller than the one that'd brought her back to Earth. No windows.

Since when does a Sheevae ship not have windows? There had to be at least one. She'd find it later.

She headed to the right. His scent was still in the air, meaning he hadn't gone far.

It grew stronger as she approached a darkened doorway. There was furious whispering, just barely audible over a loud, raspy noise. As the rasping faded, the whispers grew louder. It was Sheevae language.

Nervously, Cora stepped forward.

"Cora."

What?

Mar was there, on the ground.

"You need to get yourself out of this situation without panicking. How will you do that?"

He wasn't moving.

There were two Sheevae in the room, their eyes fixed on her.

"Cora."

Something had gone wrong. Cora blinked, once, then again. "What happened?"

"He heard something he wasn't supposed to."

"He does that sometimes."

"Tone down the sarcasm, Cora. You'll need to make it back to Tai and Della. I prefer that you never came out here, but I know you better than that."

Okay. "What'd he hear?"

The one on the left had dull blue scales and eyes to match. "You want to end up like him?" They gestured at the ground.

"Don't look down, Cora."

"You're not happy about the new queen, are you?" Cora kept her eyes glued firmly on theirs.

They shared an uncertain glance. "What do you know?"

"You're supposed to earn the throne through combat, right? And Tarina didn't."

The Sheevae on the left was clad in an unfamiliar uniform, simple and practical. Not fit for a Sheevae at all. Their skin was a deep orange, washed out in the shadow of the room.

Cora was watching herself in third-person, her voice coming from somewhere other than her hollow chest. "Idiots. You didn't have to kill him. What a waste."

"What?"

"You were thinking of using me as a... I forgot the word. Use me to get to her and be allowed a chance at the throne?"

The orange one shouldered a heavy length of pipe. "You're smarter than I thought."

"Almost there, Cora."

"I'm not an idiot. Roshak have been dealing with corrupt leaders for years. We'll help. Just don't kill any more of my mates. Their corpses are useless."

Their eyes narrowed. "You're not angry?"

"I am, but what am I going to do about it?"

"There you go. Now go back to Tai and Della. You're going to make a plan to sneak out of here at the next port."

The blue one shifted forward, but the orange one stopped them.

Cora turned, walking back to the room.

Step, step, step, step. Walking was a lot of work.

She was holding it above her head. It was like a massive weight. She'd be okay as long as she didn't let go.

Can't let it sink in.

A few paces down the hall, her body jerked to a stop. Why are we running away?

"Because we don't do things that way any more."

Like you'd let them live if it was me. What would you do?

He didn't respond.

Dirt was in the track of the door, making a grating sound as Cora pulled it open. She could feel the grit catching on the metal.

She was slowly settling back into her body. It didn't feel the same now.

He was still there. "First, assess your enemy."

"Tai, tell me about the crew."

The door had slammed shut with enough force to warp the frame. Her palm stung. When had she done that?

Tai and Della stood. While Tai listed off the types and numbers of crew members, Della's eyes were widening. He mouthed something.

"Find out what crew are essential. You at least need an engineer, two pilots, and an officer to run a ship of this size. Your friend is an engineer, so you really only need to leave the pilots alive."

Della was standing over his crate, assembling a rifle with too-calm hands. Another hand tossed a sidearm to Tai. He caught it without taking his eyes off Cora.

At some point, he'd understood, too.

"I'm going to ask Mital something."

Cora went to his room, opening the door more carefully this time. He jumped up. "What is it?"

"This is a Foshar ship, right?"

Mital nodded.

"Can you trigger the crisis recall alarm from here?"

He looked around, poking his head into the hall. "I can, but there's someone in the way of the panel."

"Okay, I'll fix that."

Cora left his room, nodding at the Sheevae standing there. She went to her bag, pulled the hammer out, and shouldered it while approaching the guard. "Hey!"

A length of pipe was hanging at his side, a chunk of metal affixed to it. "It looks like they all have improvised weapons."

They looked up, confused, as she lifted the hammer. "I think you need this."

Upon impact, one of Cora's greatest suspicions was confirmed. It wasn't just the Noxis. Everyone was susceptible to a hammer swung at full force.

"I tried not to hit the panel," she called out to Mital before dropping into a crouch.

"... Thanks." He stood back, letting her drag the body out of his way. "Do I want to know what's going on?"

"Nope." With more aggression than necessary, Cora shoved it into a storage recess.

"Success." The alarm sounded, a friendly jingle that was severely contrasting what was about to happen.

"Thank you. Now lock yourself in your room. I'll come get you when it's safe."

"Sure." He turned, leaving her in the hall. There was commotion in the distance as Tai and Della joined her.

"You two circle around. I'm going to go in there and talk at them a bit."

The crew gathered uneasily in the main area, two standing guard at the only remaining entrance. The others had been shut and locked.

"Where are your mates?" One of them spoke up.

It took a lot of control for her to respond calmly. "Which ones?"

They looked at each other, uncertain. Cora stepped into the room, hammer heavy against her leg. Della was above her, crouched in the superspace.

"So... you want the new queen dead?" Every Sheevae froze in place, but most were only confused.

The room was packed just above safe capacity, but with them all standing still, Cora was able to pick out several crewmembers wearing pilot's gear. It was pretty universal. Loose, comfortable clothes to help them tolerate the intense heat put off by the navigation system's computers.

Two of them were looking at her. She'd leave them. Everyone else was looking around. Their eyes, however, were full of dread.

They're smart.

"I asked a question, nobody answered. I know some of you speak Roshak. You have to do things right, you have to fight. You have to be able to kill Tarina. Who here can do that?"

The orange one she spoke to earlier crossed his arms. "Many of us."

"Let's do a test run, then. Translate for me. Step forward if you can kill her."

The first one to step forward was a lithe, considerably taller Sheevae with mottled blue skin, who immediately dropped to the ground. The contents of their skull littered the ground.

"Wow, your kind bleed a lot." She hadn't even reached for her hammer.

The orange one from earlier sank to the ground, then lunged for her.

"Della, let me."

She didn't even need her hammer. He had a longer reach, sure, but that didn't mean much. Her fingers sank easily into his flesh, bone splintering as she tore outward. It was like shelling crab.

Maybe a little messier.

Her pulse surged in her temples, her face heating up. He certainly wasn't breathing anymore. She wanted to keep going. Bodies fell around her. There was-

Oh, this was the one she was supposed to spare. Brakes, Cora. She paused to survey the room again.

Della had picked off more than she would have liked. Some of them had sank to their knees, holding their hands out.

One of them spoke, a harsh, broken whisper. "Please. We'll do anything."

"Mm. Can you bring back my mate?" Cora's voice sounded foreign to her own ears. It was sickeningly harsh, mocking the Sheevae begging for their life.

"No- I've got a-"

"Della." Cora turned her back. The pilots were now in front of her. She appreciated that none of them were shaking. There was a dull thud behind her.

She crossed her arms. "This was supposed to be a nice, easy mission. Just come get me. That was it. You all made it hard."

Only one of them was understanding what she was saying.

"Do you want to become our queen?"

Cora's lips twisted into a snarl. "Is that what you're worried about right now?"

There were two others backed against the far wall. Della dropped from the ceiling.

"Where's Tai?"

He looked to his left. "He said he was going to check on something."

Cora rolled her eyes. "You know, that's exactly what Mar said. God damn it." The truth would set in soon, she could feel it.

One of the screens flickered on, showing three lines of flashing script. She sighed. The adrenaline wasn't wearing off like she would have hoped. Her body felt like it would snap if she moved too quickly.

"Do I need to worry about you all trying to kill me?"

The one that could understand her shook their head.

"Good. Tell them. It'll be peaceful until we get back. And when I get my hands on her, it'll be even more peaceful."

Cora wasn't sure if she meant it or not. She hadn't really considered the idea. She was angry enough to kill Tarina, she knew that, but she doubted the new queen would have knowingly put her own heir in danger.

Still, the pilot's eyes lit up. "Really?"

She chewed at her lip. "We'll see what the situation is when we get there. Now, tell me what that says."

"I'll read it exactly. Selective deactivation of lockdown in- that's not a word in Roshak, sorry. Someone is in our medical room."

Cora turned this over in her mind. Tai hadn't joined the fighting, he hadn't even properly entered the room. Mital would be the only one that knew how to deactivate the lockdown.

"Where's that at?"

The pilot, fins glued against their scalp, wrung their hands. "Can I show you?"

Della flicked the battery switch on his rifle, sending a distinctive clack-hmm echoing around the room. The pilot stiffened.

Cora nodded. "Please do."

As it turned out, it was Tai and Mital. As she approached the doorway, something stopped her. "Della, you go in and find out what's going on. You, wait out here with me."

Cora leaned against the wall. This was the outer edge of the ship, the reinforced paneling leaving little room for anything else. Open space was only a few feet away. Through several layers of metal, of course. The pull of gravity was off here. Cora played with the weight in her legs. This wouldn't be a good place to fight.

The pilot turned to her. "I think you could do it!" They'd moved too quickly. The barrel of Della's rifle, the pretty green one she'd stolen for him, was now glued to their temple. His face appeared through the doorway, rifle unmoving.

"No more moving. Cora, they've got Mar. He's- Tai can't tell if he's dead or not." His voice was so soft that his tones were hard to read.

"What?" She weakly gestured for him to put the rifle down. "How can he not tell?"

"I don't know. He's hooking him up into this machine now."

Cora wished she hadn't gone into the room. They'd taken Mar's uniform shirt off, lines of tubing running through metal ports placed on his too-pale skin. His chest was caved in. Dry purple crusted around his nose and mouth.

He certainly didn't look alive.

Cora bit into her cheek, hard. This wasn't supposed to happen. She couldn't do any of this without him.

The display chimed, a low-pitched noise like the lowest note on a xylophone. She looked up at Tai.

His face was dark with concentration. He moved along each port, watching the flow of liquid through the tubing, nodding with each chime.

Every time his hands were idle, they started shaking.

"Cora."

She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. "Yeah?"

"Come here. Put your hands- like this. Put them here and press. When I tell you, press hard. You won't hurt him. I just have to get this in."

He was holding a long, curved object. One end had a hose running to a different machine. One end was clear, made of a visibly soft, flexible material. Cora stood at the head of the table, hands flat on either side of Mar's neck. His skin was cold. She looked up, gluing her eyes to the monitor.

"Use this part of your hand." He tapped the heel of her hand with a finger. "Okay."

"Press now. Harder than that. Harder, Cora."

She fought back a gag as tendons popped under her hands. Her mouth filled with blood. She'd bitten clean through the part of her cheek she'd been chewing at. Oh, God, this is awful.

"Got it." Tai mumbled, barely audible.

This machine made a different noise, a loud click.

Tai knelt next to the table, watching Mar's chest rise slowly.

"Cora."

He'd whispered so low she barely heard him. She looked over at him again, wiping her clammy hands on her shirt.

"Even if I can get him back, he... He won't be the same. And he's going to be furious at me for doing this."

She frowned. "Why?"

"This machine, this process, it is for Foshar. We don't do this. It will take him several journeys to recover. He won't even be able to speak or walk for- for a long time. Maybe never. He'll be a burden."

Cora knew he wasn't trying to be cruel. This is exactly what Mar would tell them, if he could.

She wiped her hands off on her shirt again, trying to remove the lingering sensation of Mar's lifeless skin.

It all felt like such a waste.

Cora sat in a chair outside the pilots' deck, her feet up and her chin resting on her knees. She wrapped her arms around her legs. The others sat at a distance. She could feel them watching her. She wasn't sure how she felt. The contents of her chest were a tangled mass. The same word kept coming to mind. Waste. Waste. Waste. Every bit of it. What was even the point?

Della spoke up, his voice faltering as her eyes flicked to him. "We- We'll be entering orbit soon."

Had it already been that long? This ship didn't have proper light cycles. It showed in Tai's dark circles, in Della's angry fidgeting. Time moved like sludge here.

What was all this bullshit even for?

Cora rose from her seat, shaking her legs out, leaning her head back until her neck cracked, painfully. She walked up to the display at the pilot's station, watching as a planet rose into their dotted-line path.

There was a window at the far end of the ship. Thick glass. Cora tapped at it.

Wisps of atmosphere drifted past, an opaque yellow gas.

As the turbulence kicked in, Cora walked evenly back to the common area, checking Tai and Della's safety restraints before the pilots'. She buckled herself in last.

"She won't eat. Do you think Tor could get her to eat?"

It was Della, whispering to Tai. She stopped herself just short of shooting them a sharp glare. It wouldn't help. It wasn't their fault.

Was it hers?

Cora bit into her cheek, drawing blood. It was an old habit, one she'd picked up well before she had fangs. She'd need to break it at some point. At some point.

What was the point?

"Cora?"

It was one of the pilots.

"What is it?"

They were leaning back, trying to peer through the doorway. "We're landing within the royal compound. It's... It's not good."

She'd spent God knows how long imagining her babies killed. The grief had torn through her so many times that there was nothing left.

Well, not quite. There was something, something she didn't have a name for. It wasn't rage. Rage burned hot, pushed you forward. This feeling sat, heavy and cold, filling the space between her atoms with lead. Maybe she'd run out of rage. She'd imagined revenge so many times, too. It had quickly stopped being satisfying, reliving tearing apart the mutineers. Envisioning Tarina, beat to a pulp. The Grand Mother. All of them.

The descent continued, turbulence moderate, but Cora unbuckled herself and wobbled across the floor to the pilots' bench. "What's that?"

There was what looked like a dome of red static below them. One of the pilots hissed.

"There's not a way to translate it. It's... Pain."

Cora blinked slowly. "Mhm. What's in it?"

"The elders. Our oldest."

"Is Tarina on the other side?"

"She should be. But... This isn't always here. I think the elders found out Tarina's lie. This is how they choose the ruler now."

"Can I just walk into that? What happens inside?"

The pilot turned to her, watery eyes wide. "I said already. Pain."

The landing gear was still shifting, grains of dirt crunching between metal feet and stone, when Cora stormed down the steps. She hadn't bothered bringing her bag. Just her hammer.

There was clattering and shouting behind her, but she knew she'd been too fast.

The pilot wasn't wrong. As Cora stepped into the glittering red, her skin began to burn. It was like jumping into the ocean covered in papercuts. Not the worst thing Cora had experienced. She pushed forward, the red thinning slightly. There were silhouettes like dead trees in front of her. She squinted, carefully advancing.

What she'd thought was the sound of harsh, constant wind was getting louder as the mist thinned further. Louder and higher. At some point, Cora realized that it wasn't wind.

It was screaming. The shapes scrambled back as she stepped forward. Not trees. The stone changed underfoot, now with a raised pattern that waved like ripples in a pond. Cora looked back up. The mist had thinned to a few red flecks in the air.

There were the elders.

They were definitely Sheevae, or had been. Their limbs stretched long, painfully thin, fins hanging in tatters. They towered above her, skin stretched taught to the point of tearing around joints. Some of the ones in better shape, their fins still retained some color. Their screams were loud, vocal chords still cooperating. The others, their eyes withered in their sockets, could only choke unendingly.

As long as she didn't move, they didn't.

Cora noted oblong holes between their ribs, the skin torn open, air rushing inwards. Their fingers had elongated, joints bulging like knots in wood. Sheevae usually had fingernails. Cora gritted her teeth, eyeing the bone that jutted through fingertips and scraped against the stone, leaving chalk-white marks.

She lifted her chin, taking a deep breath. It stung.

"What do you want?" Disgust dripped into her voice.

Their faces contorted, sickening Greek tragedy masks.

Cora seized her hammer with both hands, narrowly avoiding dropping it to the ground as the mist rushed back, red filling her vision.

She'd been too confident. It was much worse this time. She fought back a gag as the pain quickly reached a level she hadn't felt since falling to the space port's core. It was in her eyes, her nose, her lungs, scraping over every inch of exposed skin like tiny razor blades. Her arms felt slick. Am I bleeding? She scrabbled at herself, trying to pull her sleeves down. It was too late. It was spreading deeper, an intense burning pain like something breaking. Like everything breaking. Cora had lost her hammer at some point. She pawed at the rough stone, trying and failing to fight back a sob. Stupid bitch- Oh God, I'm gonna die. Her arms gave out as she gagged. At some point, one of her flailing hands knocked against the cool metal of her hammer. She pulled it to her chest, curling in on herself. "Stop, please, make it stop," she cried, tears pouring down her face. "Please!" Every sob burned in her lungs, turning her stomach more.

Cora writhed on the ground, gripping her hammer like it would save her.

"Oh, God!"

You know, I've got something better than a Band-aid for this.

It was her dad. She'd cut her thumb. On what? It'd been something stupid, like messing with a soda can. She wailed, holding her bleeding thumb up to him, begging him to care. She'd wanted so badly for him to care. She didn't even need a stupid fucking Band-aid.

Does it hurt?

She'd nodded.

Does is hurt as much as this?

He'd grabbed her little hand, squeezing until her cut thumb exploded with white-hot, new pain.

New pain.

Cora slammed her left hand flat to the ground, bringing her hammer down onto it.

She'd expected it to hurt, but it still tore a high-pitched scream from her chest. Holding her now-throbbing hand limp, Cora pushed herself to her feet. Well, she tried. She went down, her left hand unavailable to catch her. It was hard to tell which way was up. Those stupid fuckers were still screaming.

"What the fuck do you all have to scream about?!" Cora lurched forward, fighting nausea and failing. She fell again, retching, the stone's ripples digging into her knees.

The nausea faded. Huh. Wait. Cora tucked her hammer between her legs as she knelt, feeling the stone with her one good hand. The ripples had a center. And she was almost there. She crawled forward, listening to the ragged sons-of-bitches skitter back. Stone turned into something smooth and cold. Cora leaned down to see, close enough that her nose brushed it. It was like porcelain, pretty, ornate, painted. It hummed loudly, rattling her skull as she collapsed against it.

It feels breakable.

Rearing back with what little strength she had left, Cora struck the ground with the hammer, continuing even after she heard it crack.

Stupid fucking jackass. All you had to do was put a goddamn bandage on it. You got custody for six fucking weeks and couldn't even handle that.

The mist fell to the ground.

As the pain faded, Cora looked up at the elders surrounding her. Their looks of blank shock turned to something new. The screaming still hadn't stopped. She could barely hear herself speak.

"Am I your new queen?"

Jerking to life, they gestured wildly.

Cora stood, shaking her arms out before picking her hammer up. Her left hand was ugly swollen, the bruise almost neon. "Are you happy?"

They gestured again, their bodies crackling at the effort.

"Then you can die happy."

Tucking her hammer away, Cora approached the door. Why the fuck am I thinking about my dad now?

She pulled at the handle, not sure if she was relieved to find it unlocked. The halls were like the Sheevae ships, lines of electricity flowing along them to pool in the glowing fixtures.

Cora took a deep breath, letting the air build up pressure in her chest.

"TARINA!"

Her bellow echoed for a moment. This place wasn't empty. Two armed guards appeared, speaking their language. She didn't slow her pace, walking right between them, not looking back.

Tor was just around the corner, approaching, but Cora wasn't ready to calm down. "If I have to yell again, I'm gonna be even less happy. Hi, I missed you. Where the fuck is Tarina?"

He finally came into view, stopping short as he looked her over. "What did you do?"

Cora strode past him, brushing against his shoulder with the only part of her forearm not covered in chunks of flesh and congealed blood. He was warm.

Instead of following her, he waited. Tai and Della were just coming through the doorway, the pilots charging joyfully ahead of them. Mital was likely still on the ship. The guards, confused, trailed after them.

Ignoring the entourage forming behind her, Cora listened.

There was furious arguing just down the hall, in a large room. Danger always had such a particular lilt to her voice.

Cora planted her foot firmly against the heavy door, swinging it open and pinning it to the wall. Tor was there, Tarina was here. The kids had to be safe.

"Sound must not carry very well in here." Not bothering to straighten up, she fixed Tarina with a cold stare.

"Cora..." Tarina shifted in her seat, placing the heavy club she'd been holding down to her left.

Cora paused to swipe at the dried blood flaking off her skin. "You have a very good reason for sending a ship of traitors to come get me. I know this." She picked at the peeling patches, not yet making eye contact with Tarina.

Tarina leaned forward. "I was wrong about everything. My mother and I had more enemies than I thought." She paused. "If you're here, it's gone. That was the only thing stopping them."

The guards and Cora's mates ran past the doorway. There had been an odd clamor in the distance, but Cora had assumed it was anything other than an angry mob. And it was getting louder.

Of course it was an angry mob.

"Then I got here at a good moment. Tarina, I have another question for you." She gave up on the mess covering her arms.

"Yes?"

"Do I need to kill you, too?" She finally looked up at Tarina. This was new. She looked completely defeated. The now former queen shook her head.

If she looked anything other than fucking miserable, she'd be paste on this ground right now.

Cora turned around, letting the door swing shut behind her.

"Cora! We're leaving!" Tor was calling down the hall.

"Yeah, sure we are. Gimme a moment." Cora headed back down the hall, taking a different turn than she had before. The ceiling arched here, the room widening into a massive, ornate entryway. A figure sat cross-legged on the floor, wearing some kind of plate armor.

She stopped in front of them. "Do you speak Roshak?"

They nodded, green eyes peering through the gap in their helmet. The metal was beautiful, polished to a glassy sheen. But it was so, so thin.

"I killed Koramin. Are you here for the throne?"

They were flat on the ground before they'd even fully uncrossed their legs. There was now a fist-sized dent in the would-be challenger's helmet.

There were more coming forward, some running in pairs. Some armed, some in fine, brightly colored clothes. Cora tilted her head, watching them charge forward.

The entire planet couldn't live for fighting. There was no way. She'd seen walls stretching across the planet, concentric rings converging on the dome of red static. It was a familiar setting. The weapons coming at her were never used, their wielders well-fed and well-trained.

"What a fucking waste." Cora wasn't sure what the rules were. She wasn't sure that she cared. It was annoying. They were running full tilt, their lungs heaving and hearts pounding. But they were so slow.

Anger itching in her chest, she slung her hammer at the nearest, clothed in layers of tailored fabric. The handle slipped from her grasp, obediently planting itself in their ribcage and forcing out the last cry from their chest. They'd brought some kind of spear. It brought the word pike to mind. As she bent down to retrieve her hammer, she did a neat left-kick-then-right-step on the spear, levering it up over her foot just in time to meet the belly of another. It glanced off their armor, metal squealing on metal until it found a gap. Hammer in hand, Cora kicked the end of the spear with the top of her foot, driving it home.

Three down now with almost no effort from her. The challengers were starting to hang back. This wasn't like the last time. She didn't feel vengeful. More than anything, Cora was irritable. Every bit of this was irritating. She hated the bright colors, the beautiful weapons created just to vie for a throne. A throne they'd have to waste half their reign defending. A throne they'd kill anyone for.

Hm.

It wouldn't have been any of her business, but they had to go and kill Mar. Cora tried not to think about how clear his voice had been in her mind. She seized a delicate wrist with her throbbing left hand, twisting it to free a needle-pointed dagger. It found a home in an eye socket.

Cora wasn't sure when this had all become so easy. I'm thinking too much. She shook her head, huffing. At least half of the original mob were hanging back now, hurriedly stripping their armor and tossing it to the ground.

This next one was tall, wearing a scarf. A fucking scarf. Cora lunged forward, seizing their shirt to slam her forehead into the center of their face. No real nose to speak of, just firm cartilage and holes. Unsteady, they teetered while she ducked under their arm and seized the thick fabric trailing from their neck. It would stop a knife, sure. But it didn't save them from Cora pinning them to the ground, rearing back to pull it tight.

It was quiet behind her. Once the Sheevae underfoot stopped struggling, Cora turned.

There was no one left.

Armor and cloth were piled neatly in rows, helmets perched atop folded squares and chest plates. Weapons were leaned against the wall, in line with the abandoned articles.

"Huh."

She walked between the rows, surveying. As she crouched in front of a sword engraved with a floral pattern, something occurred to Cora. I'm queen? She inspected it closer, picking it up to run a finger over the leaves and petals. This one was older, an heirloom. Tarnish clung to the tiny valleys in the design. The scabbard was lying next to it, layers of striped fabric glued together and shaped perfectly to hold the sword.

"I'm surprised they still remembered this part of the customs," Danger rumbled.

Cora stood, running her thumbs over the shoulder strap's silver clasp, figuring out how to shorten the length. "The customs?"

"When they come to fight, they fight until they win, or until they die. It's been several generations since challengers have given up. You've seen elders. That's what awaits a long life."

Standing straight, she sheathed the sword and ducked through the loop to put it over her shoulder. It wasn't made for someone as short as her, but that was alright. "And what do the Sheevae outside the walls do when they get old?"

Danger rubbed her claws together, making a faint clack-clack. "Well, when you get that old, your mind isn't the same."

Cora stood there, waiting for her to clarify that non-answer.

"You, we, they... They walk. They're placed outside the walls, and they walk."

"So they die out there?"

Danger made a face. It was like a grimace. "Well... No."

"They don't die?"

"No."

"How? Actually, no, I don't want to know. Are my kids here?"

Danger nodded, clearly relieved to change the subject. "You should get cleaned up first."

As Cora walked back through the compound with Danger, she heard wheels clattering. Tai, Mital, and several Sheevae medical attendants passed them.

Cora closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Two servants took over for Danger, leading Cora into the royal suite.

One of them spoke up, her voice thickly accented and her tones uneven. "Can we help?"

Cora shook her head. "No. Thank you. I need to be alone."

She passed Cora a basket and pulled her coworker out of the room. It was a fancy shower, the kind old Cora had fantasized about having. The water fell in sheets from the ceiling, the pressure and heat perfect.

Closing the door behind her and using a length of metal to lock it, she undressed and got in.

It was nice.

Cora sank to the stone floor, curling up around the drain, clamping her hands over her mouth as she fought back a wail.

I knew we were in danger, but I let him go out there alone.

I missed our baby's hatching.

I keep trusting the wrong people and they're getting hurt because of it.

Della's leg. Tai's arms.

Mar's...

She laid there for a while, crying until her head pounded and her chest hurt. I can't face my babies like this. I can't face any of them like this. I have to do better. I have to be better.

Cora turned the water colder. She didn't want her youngest child's first impression of her to be swollen eyes and a plugged nose.

She imagined a mini-Mar, with his soft orange eyes. I can't. They don't deserve that.

Shaking her head, Cora set to cleaning herself up. First order of business was her hair. She went over each thick strand with soap, noticing that some were thicker than others. In her mind, they'd just been hair, but hers were hard and mostly non-porous, anchoring sensitively in her scalp the way fingernails did to the nail bed. They had softened under the hot water, but the paler ends were unwilling to let the bloodstains go. Cora grimaced, a little disappointed. She'd have to ask someone for help getting those out.

She scrubbed at the rest of herself, taking the time to carve a nauseating amount of grime from under her nails. Her skin was much thicker now, that same suede texture, and it was also refusing to let go of the bloodstains. She sighed and moved on.

Her feet were hopeless, but she still tried, sitting down and scrubbing at the hardened callouses and months of splinters. Meli had warned her about wrapping her feet correctly after she'd given up on shoes. She'd been lucky not to get an infection.

As done as she could be, Cora turned off the water. There was a mirror outside that she dreaded facing. Drying herself off and taking another deep breath, she exited the bathroom.

The swelling in her face had gone down enough. Cora squeezed her hands over her hair, working a towel between the strands. She'd have to work fast. Once they dried, they'd be stuck in place until they got wet enough again. Glaring at herself in the mirror, she decided on the closest thing to a low bun. She pulled the strands back, pinching them firmly together where a hairband would have gone. Keeping that hand there, Cora twisted the rest as tightly as it would go. She'd still need to wrap it in something, it wouldn't stay like this.

There were some clothes laid out on a table.

Her mates had clearly had a say. These were made of heavier, warmer fabric, cut more like common Roshak garments. Along with wraps for her feet, there was a scarf. Cora picked it up, wondering who'd suggested it first. She'd needed one for her hair since living with Tor's mother, her hair texture rapidly changing during recovery.

Cora secured her hair first, struggling through a few attempts until the muscle memory returned. Then, she took it out and did it again, just to get it perfect. If they were traveling anywhere cold, she'd have had a high-neck sweater to go underneath. Probably not on Takka.

Pants were next, loose-fitting with a drawstring waist. After securing these, Cora sat cross-legged to wrap her legs and feet. Her previous pair of wraps were dingy and threadbare but had become second nature to put on. These were brand new, stiff, and a much thicker material. It took her several attempts, starting at the balls of her feet, but Cora appreciated the extra structure the thicker material provided. She wrapped them up her legs in a crisscrossing spiral, stopping just below her knees, and tied them neatly at the back before tugging upwards on her pants slightly to blouse them. She brought her knee up, testing that she'd done it all correctly. Lastly, she slipped on a sleeveless undershirt, followed by a loose vest with wide shoulders. Over the vest went the belt Tor had given her, fixed loosely above the waist to leave room for her new... occupant.

Okay. I can do this.

She left her towel hanging neatly, her old clothes folded by the door. Tor was waiting outside. He looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. He turned away, intending to lead her down the hall, but Cora caught him by his shirt, tugging him back. "Come here."

He barely reacted, his weight nearly knocking her over as she pulled him down close. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath. "I missed you."

"I missed you," he answered, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry- I should have been there."

Cora shook her head. "No. I think it would have gone much worse if you were there. They were instigating from the start. I'll fix this. Don't worry about it anymore. Take me to the little ones and go rest. No arguing."

He turned obediently, the fight gone completely from his body.

Instead of heading to one of the open common areas, he led her to the heavily guarded meeting hall. Danger regarded her nervously. Cora patted her arm. "Thank you."

As she entered the room, Tarina slipped off her chair, offering it to Cora. It was a low pouf, sturdy but comfortable. Cora nodded at her, turning to survey the room. Only Tai, Erie, Leo, and Della were seated. Tor lingered in the doorway.

"Go on."

The door closed gently behind him.

Cora walked past the table slowly, stopping to give each one a kiss. Mel was seated on the other side of Tai, scribbling intently. She hadn't even noticed Cora walk in.

"Hi, baby."

It took her a moment, but the recognition and joy dawning in Mel's eyes was worth more than anything Cora missed on Earth.

"Oh, sure she didn't recognize you. She's asked for you every day since you left," laughed Tai as Mel dove into Cora's arms, squealing. "None of us were good enough."

Cora held her close, sitting in the chair and eyeing the sleeping infants behind her. Mar's was so much smaller than the other two. Mel made an insistent noise, drawing her attention back to the table. "No," Cora shook her head at Tai. "You're all good enough. I'm not going anywhere ever again."

Tarina had steadily inched away from the table since leaving her chair, nearly in the room's corner now.

Cora tutted disapprovingly. "I need you back at the table, please."

As Tarina returned to her side, Cora leaned in. "I'll make sure that nothing like that ever happens again. And of course, I'm still carrying your child."

Tarina sighed, visibly relieved. "We'll do everything we can to bring Mar back," she whispered, eyeing the others. "I hope you haven't struggled too much. I will do everything I can to make this right."

Mel wriggled in Cora's lap until Tai slid her paper and charcoal over.

"Not on Earth, no. And we'll discuss what you can do for me, later." She cast her gaze behind her, changing the subject. "Mar's little one hasn't been named yet, right?"

Leo snapped to attention. "We found his biological parents. They fled the capital up to the Coalescence after their eggs were taken from them."

Cora sounded the word out for herself. "What's that, the Coalescence?"

They all shifted uncomfortably. "Nobody told you?"

"No, they have not. Been a little busy, I think."

Erie was the first to speak up, leaning forward to gesture at Mel. "Can I borrow that for a moment?"

Mel sighed, turning her paper over and handing him her stick. "Yes."

While Cora processed that Mel spoke, Erie drew two overlapping rings, adding wavy lines where they met. "So! Basic lesson," he paused, leaning to give Tai a dirty look. "That she should have got forever ago."

"We were busy," he hissed.

"Yeah, busy fucki-"

Leo whacked him. "Not in front of the kid, dumbass."

Mel looked up at Cora. "Dumbass," she said reverently.

Cora choked back a snort. "Don't say that, Mel. Anyway! Come on boys, please. Geography. What's this, why are these circles being so... intimate?"

Erie gave her a long, blank look. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone describe it like that. Uh. I've- Oh! Right. So. This," he tapped the circle he'd colored in. "is Milarish, the Foshar planet. And this is Roshak. They're conjoined, with a superheavy core at the center. The magnetic field there destroys any sort of proper tech, so it's kind of a peaceful zone. Awful place to live, though."

Cora stared at the paper. "You're joking. This whole time, I thought they were, like, in a different system. Or at least not... this. So, the Foshar can't just pop over to Roshak, I'm guessing because of that magnetic field?"

"Right. They have to exit orbit, dodge the moons, and land all the way over here."

"Huh." Cora leaned back a bit, taking this in. "Interesting. That's how they've got such a death grip on the lunar mining colonies, too."

"Right," murmured Tai.

It didn't look like any of them had slept, either. Della had disappeared completely from view. Cora leaned forward, looking for him. She hadn't seen him leave.

"He's on the floor," whispered Leo.

"Tai, take Della and go get some rest. I'll be- no, don't argue. I'll be fine. Go on. Make sure Tor is resting and not pacing around."

He leaned back, groaning and rubbing at his face. "Okay." He turned to her. "Please... Please be here when we wake up."

Cora bit her tongue, hard. "I promise."

A few moments after he left the room, a groggy Della in tow, there was a knock at the door, accompanied by the faint rustling of papers. Cora took a deep breath through her nose. Sheevae, unfamiliar. She turned to Tarina, who'd seemingly entered a meditative state of shame. "Were we expecting any other guests today?"

Her eyes snapped open. "Yes. Representatives from the Greater Ring."

"And why do I hear distaste in your voice?"

"They always have demands."

"Oh, no, demands from your people. Leo, Erie, move closer, please. The Greater Ring, that's on the other side of the Noble's Ring, right?" She'd heard the Noble's Ring mentioned, but only just managed to piece it together. Upon descent, Cora easily guessed the difference between what kind of lives were lived in the rings.

Tarina nodded.

"Come in."

The door opened, slowly. It was a group of Sheevae, most of them the scaly variety. Upon seeing Tarina, they balked. That won't do. Tilting her head, Cora gave Tarina a firm look. "I'm going to have you go rest. I know you haven't, either. Nobody is any good to me in such a state."

"But-"

"I won't make any uninformed decisions. Go."

Leo and Erie sat on either side of her as Tarina left without another word.

"Do any of you speak Roshak?" They responded with blank silence.

Erie cleared his throat, speaking in strange, stilted Sheevae.

"You speak Sheevae?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but they speak a dialect in the Greater Ring. I learned it on my first diplomatic assignment. I'm the one that taught Mar. Can they sit?"

Cora laughed. "Yeah, of course, I wouldn't make them stand the whole time. Are there any gestures I need to avoid making?"

Erie said something to them before turning to her. "Yeah, don't make any gestures with your hands closed. Like this." He made a fist under the table. "Keep your hands relaxed and you'll be fine."

"Okay. Do you think it's okay if I ask them a question first?"

Erie nodded.

"Tarina says they've been here before, to 'make demands'. Have their demands ever actually been heard?"

"You can talk to me as if you're talking to them directly. It'll make this easier." Cora hoped she wasn't

rambling. She was already so tired.

"Okay!"

He translated her question, then their response.

"No. They pretend that they can't understand us and send us away."

"Mhm. I find that unacceptable. Can you all introduce yourselves to me?"

The tallest of them, wearing a sharp, loose-fitting cream suit was Dagali, representing the entire "manufacturing district", a nightmarishly long phrase in Roshak. Scars decorated their hands, white lines scattered across deep green scales. The one doing most of the speaking was the thin, nervous Geilo, wearing a powder-blue robe belted just below their chest with a woven metal belt. Geilo was the ring's Governor. Geilo's assistant Governor was Myro, one of the more fish-like Sheevae with pale purple skin, wearing an identical outfit with a fabric belt. They were accompanied by a guard, Uvdal, wearing heavy gray fabric clothing that resembled armor.

"Geilo, do you mind if I ask a few questions before hearing your demands?" Cora's mind was spinning, trying desperately to recall the hours of dull government proceeding C-SPAN footage she'd used to fall asleep. She hoped her word choices were being translated as she needed them to.

"Please do."

"This is for both you and Dagali. How did Koramin's recent diplomatic choices affect your lives, your businesses, or the economy of the Greater Ring?"

They grimaced in unison, Geilo and Dagali whispering to each other before responding. "Day-to-day life was relatively unaffected, with the exception of our security services being forcibly conscripted."

That was a really neutral answer. They were being wary, which made sense to Cora. She'd have to phrase the question in a way that freed them from the responsibility that came with answering.

"I see similarities between my home and yours, especially when it comes to the division of economic classes." She cast a quick glance at Erie as he stumbled over the phrase economic classes. "What would you say were some common complaints from your people, your citizens during this time?"

Erie's grasp of English was working overtime. Leo had stepped in, using his tablet to translate the longer, more complicated words to Roshak for his brother.

Their effort paid off. Cora could tell her statement, and the following question had relaxed them a bit.

She nodded, listening intently as she stroked her now-sleeping daughter's head. She was taking notes, but she knew she'd have to re-write them the minute they were done here. The paper was a nightmare mishmash of Roshak script, English, and the odd Spanish word as her brain would flounder. Leo peeked at her notes, only to glue his eyes back to his tablet, a faintly nauseous expression on his face. He shook his head.

She leaned forward, setting her coal pencil down. "I'm going to ask you a basic question. I know I could ask Tarina, or anyone else here, but I think your answers would help me more."

They waited. Cora took that as a yes.

"This isn't the only place on this planet where your kind have settled, right?"

It was a shot in the dark. The rings encompassed an area the size of a country, easily seen from outside of orbit.

"There are others, yes..." Erie looked up, making a face. He asked them a question.

Geilo made what sounded like an affirmative response.

"What was that about?"

"A word I didn't know. He's not sure about the other nations."

"So there were other nations, at some point?"

They all stared at her. "Yes, there should be, but we don't..." Erie paused again, swearing under his breath. "Talk to them, associate with them. Relations were severed by the- queen that was queen, four queens ago. Augh."

"Do they speak different languages?"

"They do."

Wheels were turning in Cora's mind.

"I see a lot of opportunity here. I don't trust that the Grand Mother won't try to take advantage of the instability here, if she hasn't already. Geilo, I'll need to meet with you again."

"When?" The response was rapid-fire.

Ah. Cora bit her tongue to stop her face from going blank. She wanted to keep looking composed.

Well, she hoped she looked composed. She spoke quietly to Erie. "How long is a day here?"

"About the same as Earth."

"Mm, okay. I will need ten days. Is there a time after that, that works for you?"

Erie made a face. "What?"

"He's governor, he's busy. I'll need to-"

"She's busy." Cora had misinterpreted the signs. She was starting to think it was somewhere in the way they held their fins, or the neatly patterned makeup.

"She's governor. I'm just some human! Is there a point in time, after ten days, that she would be easily able to meet with me again?"

Erie and Leo debated word choice before Erie turned back to the representatives.

Cora recognized the blank expression that signaled discomfort. Geilo turned to Myro, who pulled out a tablet.

"I don't think they were expecting you to- No, I was wrong. They. Yes, they. They're nervous that you're considering their schedule over yours."

"My schedule? What schedule? I'm about to be buried in books and whatever else for the next God knows how long!"

She cleared her throat, turning back to the group.

They responded. Erie didn't translate, stopping to count on his fingers. "In thirteen days, two and a half-"

"Three and twelve minutes," corrected Leo.

"That works for me! That's good. That's- We will meet at that time. And- Please don't be nervous. I have more in common with you than I do with any queen or ruler."

Cora wasn't sure how she got roped into going to school. Well, maybe school wasn't the right term. Erie had struggled to describe it to her, eventually giving up.

Nor was she actually roped into it. She thought it sounded fun. Tarina was strongly opposed to the idea, but Erie had experience with this establishment.

That was all Cora could understand of their argument, held entirely in Zentrin.

She wondered if Erie had any sense of when to stop arguing. Tarina towered over him, muscle twitching in her forearms.

The language sounded nice. There were a lot of new sounds that Cora had never thought to make before. Every phrase had a sound in between it, and there was a different sound to show that the sentence was done.

She sounded out a phrase for herself, one that flowed particularly nicely.

Tarina put a hand on her club.

"Hey! That's enough!"

She waved a hand at Tarina. "Tarina, that's not right. It's not necessary. What are you worried about?"

Before Tarina responded, Cora shot a glare at Erie. "And you need to learn when to stop."

Tarina's reasoning was simple. She didn't want Cora outside, mingling, risking her life. That made sense. But Cora didn't like the emphasis she put on mingling, like it meant something bad.

"If you're that worried, you can come with me."

Tarina faltered.

"Yep. That's what I thought."

Cora sat on the floor, laying sideways over the bed. She'd struggled to find a comfortable position to read in. This wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was less uncomfortable, and it let her glance at her youngest over the top of her tablet. He'd just woken up, grunting as he inched toward her. As he neared the edge of the bed, a gray hand scooped under him and rolled him back.

"That's not sleeping," she whispered.

Tai mumbled something unintelligible.

She could hear Mel sprinting up and down the hall, giggling and babbling at one of the Sheevae attendants.

Mar's son was lying on his back, a hand rocking him back and forth. She set her tablet down, putting it away before rising to her knees. Oof. She stood gingerly, trying to hold in the groan of effort that would wake no less than half the sleeping Roshak in the room. She succeeded.

Her legs were sore, the tendons in her knees throbbing. Cora ignored them, carefully peering out of the door. Tarina was out there, holding what looked like a comically large fuchsia pom-pom. When she tossed it, it bounced strangely, floating through the air. As it floated overhead, Mel jumped up, slapping it.

It looked like it was made of yarn, but the tendrils moved on their own. Cora shuddered.

She would have expected only-child Tarina to be awkward around the kids, but she'd caught her twice now, shooing away the attendants and before starting a game.

I wonder if Koramin ever did that with her.

Cora couldn't imagine the former queen playing a game like this, whispering encouragingly as someone an eighth of her size struggled to catch the ball.

They were both having fun, Mel just coordinated enough to not fall on her face. Tarina watched her carefully.

Feeling odd, Cora shut the door.

Tai was even less asleep now, only one arm free of children. They were all awake now.

And all of them were definitely in need of cleaning up. Cora followed Tai into a smaller room, shutting the door behind them.

Cora took Mai, who was particularly upset at the state she was in. "I haven't used these before."

Tai pulled out a flat drawer. "They're much better than what we were using." It was lined with neatly stacked rectangles of layered cloth.

"Oh," Cora whispered. "Yeah, these are nice." After months of tying and praying that scrap towels would work, she was relieved to encounter a diaper that took only three steps. Mai kicked furiously, not appreciative of the process. Cora passed her back to Tai, taking Orra.

Orra was Tai's daughter, but Cora had noticed something odd. She was always the last one he picked up. He never fed her, never checked on her first. Cora's heart sank in her chest.

"Why do you always take care of her last?" It had come out harsher than she'd meant it to.

Tai was startled. "You- I- Look-"

"Say it already."

Tai shook his head. "When there's this many, I can't... show preference. You know. That's not fair to the other little ones."

Cora chewed at her lip. She hadn't thought about that. "The others are helping enough, right?"

He nodded. "They are. Unfortunately, most of them don't know what to do. Tor never helped with his siblings. It's mostly been me and-"

On cue, Della walked in. One eye was still half-closed. "Need help?"

Cora shook her head. "Did you still hear Mel out there?"

He laughed, blearily. "Yup. Tarina thinks we have no idea. When Mel wakes up, she sneaks out to go wake her up."

Cora giggled. "Oh my God."

The stomach issues had worsened over the last week. A lot. Everyone but Tai and an attendant were shooed out of the room, leaving an awkward silence as Cora groaned into a basin.

She was starting to regret telling Tarina yes. Four kids was already a lot of work, even for an entire group. Her stomach turned again. Now it was angry that it was empty.

Ugh.

"I have something," spoke the attendant to Tai, "but you can't tell anyone that it was from me."

"What is it?" Tai spoke, apprehensive.

Cora heard the familiar rattle of a pill bottle.

"No," he whispered. "What is that?"

"It's," she started. "It's something my sister brought back from an Earth trip."

"What is it?" Cora asked, her voice rattling in the basin.

"It's... die... fen..."

"Shit! Benadryl?" Cora sprang up, immediately regretting it as her vision went gray, then black.

It took a while to convince Tai that the medication was safe to take. Cora remembered her mother practically eating the stuff before she'd had her little sister.

To ice the cake, it'd been expired for at least a year. She hadn't told him that part.

The attendant hovered nearby.

"What's wrong?"

She patted the bag hanging at her side. "Please don't tell anyone. I use them to sleep."

"Is that... bad?"

Her fins flattened to her head. "I'm not supposed to have these."

"Wait." Cora sat up carefully, the drowsiness setting in. "Who's gonna get mad?"

The attendant looked down at the ground, to Cora, to Tai, then back to the ground. "Oh." She looked up once more. "Oh!" She started to laugh, a high-pitched wheeze.

Cora laughed weakly. "It's fine. Oh. Oh, shit. No, I can see why you're not supposed to have this." A wave of euphoria hit her. "Damn," she giggled. "It never did this before."

"Yes," the attendant wrang her hands together. "It does that. To us," she added.

"To us," repeated Cora, rolling over onto the bed.

Us?

Later that day, as the sun was setting, Cora allowed the attendants to dress her in something more suited to going out.

It was just like one of the dresses she'd been made to wear before, but with proper sleeves, with cuffs. The dress even had a hood of sorts. Cora let them tie it at the nape of her neck, using her hair to secure it to her head. A pair of goggles were placed into her hands. "There was dust in the forecast."

The forecast was right. The shades stretching out over the royal compound ended just before the walls, finely ground rust floating in the air and coating the ground.

"Eh, wait. Do you need help covering your face?"

Cora nodded, letting Danger adjust what she'd thought was a scarf, pulling it over her mouth and nose and fastening it to her hood. "Thank you."

Danger hesitated before responding with a short word. "That was what we say when we're thanked. It doesn't mean the same as, ah, you're welcome, though. Most of our words don't directly translate into your language. That's why he enrolled you in the Roshak group. Our dialect has more in common with Roshak than English." She huffed. "That, and the only classes taught in English are in the, ah, a bad... area."

"Oh. I know about those. I think." Cora took a deep breath through her nose. They'd crossed the threshold into the Noble's Ring, through a rough stone archway. Sprawling residences stretched out in either direction, another stone wall looming in the distance.

"You know, Danger," Cora murmured, looking up at the sky. The dust had slowed down, pooling on the fabric shades stretched overhead. It was allegedly evening, but there was no sign of the sunlight dimming. "I don't think I've seen the sun go down since I got here."

Danger looked up as well. "Oh. No. It's down. That's our moon."

"It- augh." Cora had made the mistake of looking directly at it. "Yeowch. What is it, a mirror?"

"Nope." She emphasized the 'p'. "Well, actually... In a way. It's very reflective. We'll have a proper night in a few days."

She blinked, fighting the annoying bright spot in her vision. "That's neat."

Cora didn't like how long it was taking to walk through this part of the Ring. The ornate, windowless buildings were much too large for those who occupied them. I hope we don't have to do anything about the rest of them.

Tai stood near the entryway. There was someone waiting outside, hiding in the shadows of the gate.

"Ma- Shit." He gritted his teeth. "Della."

Della's head poked out from a doorway down the hall.

"Where is Leo?"

Leo, almost a full head shorter than Della, peered around the same doorway.

"Is there someone out there?"

Tai gave a short nod, checking his belt. "One. They look like they don't want to be seen." Leo opened his mouth, but Tai cut him off. "They're hiding from the nobles. Not from us."

Tai pulled the doors open, sidestepping to let the Sheevae in. They were stocky like Tarina, but with pale green skin and plain clothes. Completely unarmed.

"Why are you here?"

"I have warning for the new queen." They spoke in shaky English.

Tai held up his hands. "Wait. Tor!"

He came around the corner, right on cue. "What?" His expression was dangerous.

"I- I- I'm Roswell. The other nobles are planning to attack. Together."

"But that's against the rites," cut in Leo, visibly concerned.

"The elders are all dead. The general con-cen-sus is, the rites mean now nothing."

"Did Cora kill the elders?" He'd asked Tai, but Roswell answered with a nod.

Tai sighed. "She won't tell us what happened."

"She can not remember, probably. To be given our throne is experience. It's very pain. Painful."

"Do you know how many are left?" he asked Roswell. They shrugged, doing some rough counting on their fingers. "Numbers. Sixteen, four."

Leo stared at the ceiling. "He says there's sixty-four left."

Tor's English was still basic, but he'd understood. Tai looked at him, then back to Roswell.

"And you said they are all attacking together?"

"They are making a plan. I know not when."

"Why tell us?"

"Our new queen. I want to live. I have family. She is terrifying. I saw her and ran. The first time."

The tension was broken by Erie nearly falling through the doorway down the hall. Mel darted out, narrowly dodging his grasping hands. She waved to her family before charging down the hallway away from them.

Tor shook his head, almost imperceptibly.

"Do we wait for her?" Della whispered in Roshak.

"No. We can't give them any more time." Tai thrashed his tail.

Leo rubbed his hands over his head. "How are we doing this?"

"Do you remember the last time we were on Milarish?"

For a moment, Erie looked nauseous. "No."

Roswell rubbed at their arms.

Tai kept his eyes forward. "What does your home look like?"

Roswell described their home, shivering slightly, then pulled out a folded sheet of thick, enameled paper. It was like a photo. "And this is what my family looks like."

Leo looked up. "Okay. Go home."

As soon as the door settled into place, he flopped against it. "One more time, for Mar, then never again. I can't go back to that. I- We can't do this anymore."

Tor wavered for a second, but Tai leaned forward, teeth bared.

"We'll do whatever we have to do to keep Cora safe."

Tor sat alone in Mar's room.

Well, he wasn't entirely alone. Moonlight streamed in through the window slats, illuminating the tubes snaking across the room and into Mar's body. He'd started breathing on his own again that morning.

He watched his chest rise and fall, the bruises patchy shadows in the low light.

Mar's nails were overgrown. They'd begun to curl inward and would soon pose a painful threat.

Tor pulled a rasp from his belt pocket. It was intended for removing the burrs from freshly-cut metal, but it would work.

Between every nail, his eyes darted up to Mar's face. The sound of the textured metal against nail was loud, but the hum of the electric pumps keeping him alive was louder.

Tor put his head down, sighing.

Then, he picked it back up, wheels suddenly turning in his mind. He'd remembered a conversation he had with Ray, exactly a year after their mission had begun. He started on Mar's third hand.

Ray had been shocked to learn that Mar didn't know his whole name. They'd talked about finding it as a gift to him. They'd planned to go to the archives, after the mission was over, and petition the naming authority for his file. With Ray's help, it would have been so easy.

Tor wondered if what they had now was even better than a politician's son.

He flipped Mar's hand over, holding it in his own. His now permanently clammy skin had yellowed considerably, almost matching Tor's. He sighed again. "You need to wake up. I'm not doing anything right."

Cora was not doing well. She'd made it through introducing herself, but the instructor was speaking pure, proper Roshak. She'd been spoiled for so long, even Tor peppering in English for her convenience as he learned it. Roshak didn't have all the 'specifics' words, as Tai had put it. The more specific you needed to be in Roshak, the longer it would take. It was expected that you'd just pay attention to the context and do a little bit of guessing.

Okay, maybe a lot of bit.

Her head felt like it was full of sand. She was understanding the instructor, a scaly Sheevae named Paree, well enough. She was missing words every so often, but she could always guess by the tones and Paree's vivid expressions.

Still, Cora didn't feel great. Every so often, she'd startle, like she'd been elsewhere and was unsure how she'd got here, in this seat, in this city, on this planet, in this situation.

Maybe if I think in only Roshak. Maybe to switch is making my problems.

Wait, how am I thinking in a language with no words?

Cora tried to wrench her attention back to the teacher, but she'd thought too much, rendering Roshak nothing more than an indiscernible melody.

Fuck. Fuck.

She made eye contact with Paree. I need to calm down.

Paree gave Cora her best Roshak smile, teeth bared and eyes shut.

"All good, Cora?"

The words nestled into place in her mind after a moment of frantic scrambling. "Yep! Nausea. I will be okay." She returned the smile.

This was going to be a long day.

Tai wasn't acting like himself at all. Leo looked over at his brother, who hadn't looked up from his hands in several moments.

Well, Tai wasn't acting like the Tai he'd become for Cora, the Tai that they could relax around. Leo shivered, looking towards the city walls.

"Why do I feel like I'm the only one that cares about what they did to Mar?"

Erie jumped, swiping his hands off on his vest. Tai was several lengths ahead of him, his breath hitching with every strike. The Sheevae under him had died several minutes ago.

Tor didn't tell us to kill them.

"Don't answer that. I don't care. Della and I are doing all the fucking work here. Keep standing there and hope you don't get shot."

Erie hadn't moved. Leo shook his head, hard, before grabbing his brother and dragging him into the shadows. "Last time, okay?"

"We say that every time," hissed Erie. "I can't."

"You have to. Who do you think he'll become if we lose Cora?"

Erie shuddered, fighting back a sob. "I know. But there's-"

Leo clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shut the fuck up. Look at him. You want the nice Tai. You want Cora's Tai. We're going to keep Cora's Tai." He looked over his shoulder, growing desperate. "Stop it, Erie! You're going to get killed! You know what to do when he's like this!" He prodded his brother in the chest, hard. "Don't you?"

Erie squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay."

When he opened them again, they were blank.

He knew what to do.

He just hated it so, so much.

Della was staying motivated just fine.

Unfortunately, the mental image he'd been focusing on was going to give him nightmares for a long time. There was a question he wanted to ask, a question he'd also seen in Erie's eyes from across the sandstone lane. But he knew if he asked the question, he'd falter. If he faltered, Tai would have no one else.

He slipped in through a roof gap, eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. A family sat below him, laughing and eating as they played some kind of card game.

There was a long, strangled scream outside.

Della watched as the largest of them got up, approaching the door.

"Don't."

The family jumped, looking towards him. The light at their table only reached so far.

He didn't know why he bothered. Maybe he couldn't stand the thought of what would happen if he opened that door. His grasp on Sheevae wasn't good enough to beg them to hide, to run. He dropped from the beam.

The largest Sheevae noble's fins flared. "Ah- eh- Oh, I- I can- Roshak!"

"Lay down. Pretend to be dead."

They turned back to their family, two slightly smaller, almost identical Sheevae with scales. Tai was just outside, judging by the horrific noises he could hear.

To their credit, they seemed to understand Della, getting up awkwardly to lay face down on the ground.

He fired three shots.

Without Mar, there was nobody to keep pushing them forward, and nobody to step in when they were doing something fucked up. Nobody to stop Tai.

He wondered if Tai was thinking the same.

Tai had wanted, no, needed this from the minute he'd seen Mar's body left in a storage room.

A storage room.

Cora had left him there. She'd immediately given up on him and he'd nearly died alone.

Being wounded on a mission was one thing. They hadn't been on a mission. They were supposed to be safe. Mar finally had what he'd always wanted, and they took him from it. It was like they'd known.

Now, he wasn't even here to tell Tai to stop.

The bodies would need scraped from the ground, from the walls, from between the cracked tiles adorning this table. He'd stopped looking them in their eyes. He'd never even started counting.

If it moved, it soon didn't.

The tension in his chest worsened with every breath. He wanted to tear himself apart. None of this was helping. Every time he looked at a piscine Sheevae, his stomach turned. The scaly ones were just unlucky bystanders.

When a noble would charge him, eyes wide, it would all abate for a moment.

Only a moment.

Then, it would all rush back.

This was just like Milarish.

They walked back to the compound, Tai striding furiously ahead. Della had already unloaded the battery cartridge from his rifle by habit. He looked up at Tai, back to his rifle, then closed his eyes.

Shit.

Slowly, gently, hands shaking all the while, he slid the last cartridge into place, timing its distinct click to prevent Tai from hearing it.

Tor sat alone in the meeting hall. He cringed when he heard the compound's main doors slam open, bouncing off the frames. Tai was moving much faster than the others, Della following several paces behind him. Leo and Erie were dragging even further behind. Mar wouldn't have even let them go until we had a plan. It definitely wouldn't have involved killing them all. He couldn't find the words, in that crucial moment, to tell Tai to stand down, to calm down, to stop.

He wouldn't have listened. That was just an excuse.

Mar could have stopped him. He would have known exactly how to calm Tai.

Maybe if he had never been reassigned.

Tor shook his head. He liked where they were, he liked having others to rely on. He liked the rapport they had, how he never had to struggle for words. Someone could always guess what he meant.

He liked having a family of his own. At this thought, though, he grimaced. No family without Mar.

Tai kicked the door open, holding it open for Della and letting it close in front of Leo.

Leo, exhausted, caught it and held it for Erie. Erie's eyes were purple around the edges, bloodshot from tension.

Tai was a wreck. He'd lost all of his knives, his knuckles skinned down to bone in places.

"I was thinking."

Tor looked at him, but Tai's eyes wouldn't meet his. They wandered aimlessly around the room, not truly seeing anything. He waited for Tai to continue.

"You didn't give us any orders."

Tor shook his head. Tai's elbow was swollen, a nasty bruise creeping up and down his arm. He'd never let it heal completely from the last two injuries.

"Why not? I thought you were in charge? But when it counts, you're not there."

Della snarled, storming out of the room. "I'm not doing this shit," echoed his voice from down the hall.

Tai continued after an unsteady pause. "When we need someone, you're not there. Even Erie and Leo helped." He growled the word helped. Erie shrank where he stood. Leo was staring at the back of Tai's head, the muscles in his forearms twitching.

Tor wasn't sure what Tai wanted out of this conversation. Well, he had an idea, but there was no way he'd win against him in a fight.

Cora would be back soon.

She hadn't been feeling well lately. She'd already told Tai once, if he caused any more problems, that she'd kill him. Tor didn't like those odds.

Tai was still speaking, but exhausted Tor had zoned out.

This angered him even more. Slamming his hands down on the table, Tai got in Tor's face, close enough that their noses brushed. "You can't fight. You can't protect Cora. What good are you?"

For the first time in his life, Tor was struggling to get angry. He didn't want Tai dead. With Mar's status unknown, Tai was the only one of them reliable in dangerous situations. Della was good at a distance, but Tor had started to get the sense that he wouldn't do well without Tai, either.

Tai was growing angrier by the minute. "What good are you?"

Tor re-engaged too late. Tai had him by his shirt, his hands smearing congealed blood into the fibers. The collar was being pulled inward, putting pressure on his neck. "Stop it."

"No! What fucking good are you? You weren't even there when they got Mar!"

"You were."

As his face was slammed into the stone floor, Tor realized that this was probably not a good response. He kicked out and hit empty air. Fighting back was hard, especially with how dark everything was getting.

Leo turned to see that his brother had taken off at some point, leaving him as the sole witness.

"Tai, that's not-" His already weak voice petered out. There was no way Tai was hearing anything now. Shit, Tor. Panicking, Leo turned back to the doorway. Cora, please.

"Tai, please, don't..." Leo ducked to the side as Tor was thrown towards him.

"Don't what? Do you realize, if we lose Cora, we have nothing? Nothing!"

That didn't sound quite right, but Leo was not arguing.

He found himself being yanked back through the doorway. Della shoved him aside, raising his rifle to point it squarely at Tai.

"You wouldn't," whispered Leo.

"You're right," hissed Della, squeezing the trigger.

"Where the fuck did you get tranquilizer?" shouted Leo, frantic, as he charged down the hall.

Della was two paces ahead of him, reloading. "Gift from Koramin! A shitty one! It's not fucking working!"

A semiconscious Tai lunged after them, snarling incoherently.

Just then, the front doors opened.

Enter Cora, exhausted beyond words.

Enter Danger, strongly regretting her choice of name. "This seems like a diplomatic issue. May I stay out of it?" Before Cora could even answer, she was gone.

Well, shit. Cora leaned forward, looking in the opposite direction. The children, all safe, were on the far end of the compound with attendants.

Above everything else, she smelled blood, and a lot of it.

They were just under halfway across the building's circular hall. Hopefully the attendants knew to keep the kids away from the shouting. Cora went down the hall, following the scent as best she could. It was a blend of different kinds of blood. She didn't like that.

Tor groaned.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Cora knelt, wheezing awkwardly as she tried to flip Tor over. "What the hell?"

He was just conscious enough to roll onto his back. "Tai hasn't slept at allll. Della tried to make him."

A bowl of lamp oil on the table.

Picking it up, Cora sidled up to the meeting hall's doorway. One, two, toss.

Instantly, she knew this was a horrible idea. Della cleared it, Leo caught the edge of it, and Tai put his entire weight squarely into the colorless puddle. He hit the curved wall with a scree-THUNK. In his panic, Leo had dropped to a crawl, holding the oiled foot aloft and scurrying away.

Della was left standing there, looking vaguely shellshocked.

"What the fuck did you dAUGH-" Erie found the puddle, catching himself in a spidery version of the splits.

Cora rubbed her face, bit back a groan, and took attendance.

Tor had a concussion. Tai was out cold. Leo was having a very quiet meltdown in a storage locker. Erie was playing Twister on the highest difficulty.

She took a deep breath. This would be embarrassing.

"Milo!"

Stepping forward carefully, Cora positioned herself over Erie's crumpled figure, holding out her hands. She was becoming particularly front-heavy. Slipping now would not be fun.

Milo rounded the bend. Cora watched as the purple Sheevae fought tooth and nail to keep her composure. "Yes, Cora?" Her voice shook.

"Okay, so. I don't know what happened. Until I figure it out and correct it, I will not be leaving for so long again. Tor needs medical attention, as does Tai. The gray and brown ones," she added, seeing Milo's confusion. They were terrible with everyone's name but hers. "Him and him."

"What about him?" she pointed to Erie.

"He's okay." Cora could feel the oil seeping under her feet. "Um, actually..." She looked back to Tor, then to Tai. "Have Tai put in some kind of restraints. If possible. I don't think he's doing... so... well." The tendons in her hips were screaming as she tried to stop her feet from sliding. "Not sure why, but I seem to be standing in a puddle of oil. I'm slipping."

"Oh, oh, dear," tutted Milo as she stepped forward, eyeing the puddle warily. "I have you."

Della snapped out of his trance, springing forward to help. Miraculously, he did not step in the puddle, even as Milo swore at him, gesturing wildly to stay back. Together, they extricated Cora from the oil, leaving her to be carried in Della's arms.

"Oh, I wasn't finished. One of mine, the smaller gray one, is hiding in the closet with all the, uh, the things you sweep the floors with."

Cora sat in the nursery with the attendants, watching as they dimmed the sconce bulbs for naptime. Her youngest child sat in her lap, staring up at her with wide, soft orange eyes.

She smoothed a hand over his head. Unlike the others, this one had yet to make any noise other than tiny, world-weary sighs. Tara eyed him sadly.

"I don't know much about Roshak young, but I find that a bad omen."

Cora looked up at Tara. She didn't seem particularly old, but the towering purple Sheevae spoke with a lot of wisdom. Watching her comb lovingly through a CD wallet, Cora noted how long her forearms stretched compared to the other attendants.

"Ah. This should help." She straightened up, balancing the disc on the tips of her fingers. "This is- was one of Koramin's favorites to play for Tarina. A very popular human artist, actually. I'm sure you're already familiar."

Cora watched as she loaded the disc in a Sheevae-made player. "I probably do. Who is it?"

"Hildegard von Bingen."

"Oh. I, uh, don't know her personally. But she sounds familiar." Cora craned her neck to see the paper insert in the CD wallet as the disc began to spin.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the chanting began, in what was definitely Latin. She did not know her.

Three years of Catholic middle school, however, came rushing back to her. No, nope, I can do without that, thank you. It had been her mother's idea.

They hadn't even been Catholic.

Della sat at her feet, his head resting in her lap. He'd sat still for almost an hour now, stirring as a particularly groovy instrumental joined the chanting.

Cora knew he hadn't been asleep, though he'd done well at pretending.

Tor was lingering at the far end of the hallway, talking to someone. Cora would know who, were it not for her daughter sprinting circles around them, singing something in Sheevae. The voice was so familiar. Damn it.

"Hey, Tabitha, can you look and see who's out there? There's someone else, but I can't hear over Mel."

Tabitha gave her a funny look before peering out the door. "It's just that other Roshak fellow with the pink eyes."

Tai shouldn't be up already. Cora hoped he was feeling better, especially after everything he'd said and done.

"But, my queen, how'd you hear him all the way down there?"

Cora shrugged. "I have good hearing."

Tabitha was a pleasant pastel blue, about Cora's height and shape. Her English was spoken with a North Florida lean, earned from years of hard work getting her bachelor's in economics at FSU.

Cora was positive that she would have noticed if someone like Tabitha were in, say, her Macroeconomics lecture, but decided not to consider it any further as a headache threatened.

She hoped Tai wasn't picking another fight. He really, really shouldn't be up. Whatever Della shot him with, had fractured his sternum. Should I go check? Della stirred again, looking up at her with sleepy green eyes. She smiled, smoothing a hand over his head. He'd recently trimmed his hair, some of the paper-white ends still rough.

To her relief, the door swung out, Tor holding it open for... Ray.

"Oh!"

Upon hearing her gasp, Tara squared up, only to relax as she saw Ray. "Finally. You're back."

He nodded, looking hesitantly to Cora.

She took a moment to process his appearance. He'd lost the Roshak uniform, instead sporting flowing robes, dyed a vivid royal blue.

For a moment, he looked so overwhelmed, struggling to form words.

"Ray? What's wrong?"

"You're okay," he started, his voice wavering. "I," he eyed the others, stepping forward and lowering his voice. "I made so many mistakes. But now you're here, and you're okay."

Cora got the sense that he had a lot more to say to her than just that. She shifted back, pushing Della gently away to kiss the top of his head. "I'll be back," she whispered.

He grumbled, standing and brushing himself off.

Tor was gone when they stepped into the hall.

"So..." She started, resisting the pressure against the bottom of her lungs. It made her want to wheeze instead of breathing normally. "What have you been up to?"

He gave her a wide, joyful smile despite his visible exhaustion. "And you speak Roshak so well now."

She laughed weakly, waiting for him to answer her question.

"Oh- Yes! I've been fixing my mistakes. We have quite a bit to talk about!"

She let him take the lead.

"There really is quite a bit. I don't know where to start." He paused and sighed, turning sharply right down the hall housing the medical offices. Cora caught a glimpse of Tai, asleep. "Well, perhaps I can start with what's most pressing." He opened the door for her, stopping short to go chase down a sitting place for her.

He returned, moments later, with one of the thick poufs from the throne room.

His office contained a large window looking over the center courtyard, a wall of monitors, and a low table covered in a file grid.

"We have a- Oh. No, that's not most pressing." Ray waited for her to sit. "You are. How are you feeling?"

Feeling suddenly put on the spot, Cora blushed. "Um... Pregnant?"

"Tor said you've been sick a lot. Are you still able to eat?" He knelt in front of her, inspecting her hands and flipping them over to look at her wrists.

Cora watched him, considering him in a new light. Every time someone had told her what was going on, they'd given her a different story, even him. There'd been too many dots to connect on her own.

But they certainly connected, and not in a way Cora liked.

Groaning, she rose from her seat to close his office door. "Okay, Ray." Gingerly, she sat back down, trying to arrange herself comfortably. He waited for her, mouth open like he wanted to continue, but she gave him a long, exasperated look. "Okay, Ray. Here's what's most pressing. I need the whole, complete truth. Not half of it, not some, not edited or abridged, I need all of it. About the experiment." Ray finally sat, fidgeting. "And if I find out that you didn't give me all of it, I will kill you. Maybe not right now, but I'll do it. In a timely manner."

He shrank slightly where he sat. He'd clearly hoped to avoid this.

"Go on."

The moon had set, the sun rising and bringing the light outside back to eye-searing levels.

Cora pondered the ornate cup in her hands.

"Cora?"

She looked up at Ray.

"Are you angry with me?"

She tilted her head back and forth, chewing at the inside of her cheek. "I'm still thinking about it."

The truth had been overwhelmingly long-winded, with Ray circling back repeatedly to add tidbits he'd forgotten, beginning to shake about halfway through. But Cora was able to come to several conclusions.

First, it had never been about Roshak's population issues. Not even close.

Second, she'd completely misunderstood the entire Foshar situation.

For the first time in four years, she caught herself wishing that she could just go home. Then, she felt guilty. Then, angry. But there was no one to blame. No one to easily blame, anyway. They'd all done what they thought was right, but never truly cooperated. They invested years of panicked planning just to trip over each other's tails.

Sudden rage coursed through her. Not at Ray, of course, but at the coward in her that'd suggested going home. Like that would have done a goddamn thing.

"Mm, no, Ray, I'm not. But let me get this straight. Let me get this completely, ruler, stick, cargo trainline straight." She leaned forward onto the table, eyeing the files that laid there. "Leadership has known about the Foshar situation for almost twenty journeys. They have known what needs to be done and have clearly seen what is coming if they don't act."

"I-it's not that simple, I'm afraid."

"I know it's intelligent life. But if-" Cora paused, gears turning. The Foshar had an iron-fisted monopoly on medical technology, one that suddenly made a sickening amount of sense.

"O-kay. Ray." Her own problems suddenly seemed very small. "You say the Takka coalition is in several days."

Minorly overwhelmed, she stood up. "I'm going to sleep right now. Do not go anywhere. Do not say anything to anyone. That means anyone."

Ray looked especially concerned, causing her to backtrack. "Yes, you can go eat and sleep. I mean, don't leave the compound and don't discuss planning with anyone else. I haven't slept at all for the last day. I can't trust that the decisions I want to make aren't just fueled by sleep deprivation."

At this, she stood, whisking herself out of the room. She needed Mar.

The shades were drawn in his room.

They'd been able to take the tubes out of his airways, but his heart still struggled. Cora shut the door behind herself, pulling up the nurse's chair and resting her forehead on his bed. The tears started almost immediately. She couldn't bear to turn the lights on. He didn't even smell the same anymore.

Against her own wishes, she began to sob. Harsh, shuddering breaths wracked her body. "Oh, god, Mar," she whispered. "I can't do this. I can't do this at all. I- I- I need you. Please wake up." She gritted her teeth, feeling disgusted with herself. "I'm sorry."

Cora woke up some time later, in their bed, Tor snoring next to her. Della was there as well, but he'd managed to roll himself halfway off it, only his legs and tail remaining visible. She sat up.

She didn't feel particularly better, but at least she didn't feel tired.

It was already midday. Carefully, she inched out of bed, avoiding waking them up, pausing as plates clattered in the distance. The kids were eating.

She stepped out of the room, closing her eyes and collecting herself.

First, the medical hall.

Tai laid in a rectangular medical bed, thick metal cuffs joining both sets of hands together in his lap. He looked asleep, but Cora had seen his eyelids twitch as she walked in. She toed the door shut, pulling up the chair.

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten yourself out of those yet."

"To do what?" He opened his eyes, refusing to meet her gaze.

He has a lot of audacity, considering what he said. Suddenly furious, she grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "You think I fucking left Mar to die."

"You did." He fixed her with a level stare.

Her grip tightened. She needed to be careful, or she'd hurt him more. "No. You don't understand. He was speaking to me the entire time. He told me to go. Told me exactly what to do to get us out of there in one piece."

Tai's expression contorted in bewilderment. "What?"

"I'm not explaining it to you again. You heard me, you smug bastard. He was lying half-dead on the floor yet all I could hear was his voice!" Tendons were popping under her hands. "I hear you imply some shit like you did to the others again, and you'll wish death was an option for you."

Her threat hadn't even registered. He was still stuck on what she'd first said, fighting her grip to speak. "Cora, that's- You heard him speaking to you? Like he was standing next to you?"

Cora lowered her face to his. "Do I need to break your fucking jaw?"

She was close to it. The bone had begun to creak under her fingertips. Suddenly, she was being lifted by several hands, hers being pried from Tai's face. "That's enough, Cora. Please."

Tor was behind her, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the nape of her neck. "I told Della not to tell you," he whispered.

"Tor, she-" Tai fought to sit up. "No, listen. She said- Damn it, listen! He was still talking to her!"

Gently restraining Cora, he turned back to Tai. "You keep repeating it and it doesn't make any more sense. What is it?"

Tai groaned, frustrated. "The Mantle, Tor! You're from a colony, why don't you remember?"

He made a face. "Okay, you've lost it." With that, he pulled Cora out of the room.

"What was that?" Anger still simmered on in her chest, but confusion tempered it.

"He..." Tor paused thoughtfully. "Let's go find Ray."

This was not difficult, as Ray had been eavesdropping from his doorway the entire time. "Did he say the Mantle?"

Tor nodded, slowly. "Yeah. I didn't know he was the type."

Ray grimaced. "You saw the burns, right? He is from an old colony." Upon seeing Cora's confusion, he pulled them back into his office. "We really don't have time for this."

"Let's make time," spoke Cora slowly. "I... I've never seen him like that."

Ray clamped his eyes shut. "Okay! We definitely don't-" He withered under Cora's glare. "Fine, fine. Some theology for you, my queen. Earth has tons of deities, yes? Roshak does not. We have exactly one, and they're not particularly popular anymore."

Cora nodded. "Okay."

"The creation myth goes like this. They were tired of being alone and threw themselves into the ground, causing hundreds of volcanic eruptions all over Roshak. The lava cooled and formed, well, us. Their intention was to ensure that no one ever had to be alone like they did, so from every volcano erupted a colony. The matriarch was formed from the hottest of the lava, and the- augh. Cora, have you ever seen lava converge? No? Sometimes, it converges. Anyway, the story is that they live on in all Roshak, connecting all colonies through the mantle. Yes, apparently souls are also made of lava. Tor, couldn't you have told her this?"

Tor gave him a surprisingly bitter look.

Ray cringed. "Look, we don't have time for this."

"So, it's a religious thing?"

"Not particularly!" cried Ray, growing further annoyed. "It was something that began after our government started separating colonies and executing matriarchs. I find it particularly stupid, actually. To believe that death is optional if the- Look, I'm sorry, Tor!"

Tor's hands shook. "Hm? Why are you sorry, Ray?"

Cora looked back to find an expression she had never seen on Tor before; this deep, bitter misery. She turned back to Ray.

"Because- Because it was some of the only hope they had while their mothers were being murdered and I'm talking about it like it's some silly thing." Ray rubbed at his face. "Look, Cora, it started out as a prophecy and went downhill from there."

"The soul separates from the body but stays within the mantle," mumbled Tor. "You know how many times Mom told me that while they were shipping us to Sundak? After they killed two of my fathers?"

Cora turned this over in her mind. It explained why the Roshak words for lava and soul were the same. She'd never really believed in anything like this, but she knew she'd heard his voice. She never left him because he never left her.

Snatching the key off the table, she ducked out the door and back into the room holding Tai.

"So you understand," she started, already unlocking his cuffs. "I never left him because he never left me. Yes?"

Tai sat up, nodding.

Cora started to ask him if he would continue to be a problem, when something occurred to her. Maybe the problem was with her.

When she re-entered the room with Tai, she found Ray turning funny colors while Tor fixed him with a stare that could have melted stone.

"That's enough. Let's talk."

"Absolutely! Corathere'ssomethingIforgottotellyou."

She blinked at Ray. "Hm?"

He shivered, wringing his hands in his lap. "Tor reminded me, there's something I forgot to tell you about yesterday."

Exasperated, Tor threw his hands in the air. "The baby! It's another one of Koramin's projects."

"This one?" Cora pointed down. "What?"

Tai laid back gingerly. "If she supported our project with the intention of making genetically modified humanoids, created Tarina with the same idea in mind, it would make sense to bring you two together. And considering that she couldn't bring the other nations here on Takka together because of her grandmother, dying was probably a really good idea."

She was playing chess? Cora's stomach turned. She had always found it a little strange how Koramin hadn't even fought back, and how Tarina immediately jumped to the conclusion of making an heir.

Jesus. Okay, no.

Heart racing, Cora changed the subject. "Okay... I'm just spit balling here... But I think we should pull resources away from the breeding program and focus on blockading Milarish. We reach out to the Grand Mother and make sure she knows, so she can drop the embargo. And- Anyone find it weird that she wasn't even mad at the Yarlott for creating an outpost on Earth?"

Tai was flat on his back, a hand over his chest. "Probably because she knows he had zero involvement in the program. It was something she really hated."

The door opened. Mital walked in, wearing a dark green Roshak space uniform sans the vest.

"Still no word from your family?" asked Ray, his voice softening. Mital shook his head.

Tor, previously lost in thought, looked up.

"I can do more here," he said, sitting down with them.

Mar was awake.

He wished he weren't. Cora had been talking to him, but she was so far away. He struggled to hear her, eventually falling back asleep.

Well, it wasn't quite sleep. When he would come to, he still felt exhausted. It didn't feel like waking up. There was something heavy over his body, like someone had weighed him down segment by segment. Just trying to figure out what was on him was tiring.

Maybe if he could open his eyes.

Shit, they were open. It was dark in here. What the hell happened? His head began to ache. His eyes wanted to close again, but he'd worked so hard to get them open.

He didn't seem to have a choice.

When he did manage to get his eyes open again, the room was light.

Ah. There was nothing on him now. He straightened his fingers, trying to splay his hands. Everything was beginning to ache, now, not just his head. The room was slowly coming in to focus.

Oh. I'm here. I was attacked by those mutineers, Cora came in, then... Then?

This was exhausting. I'll think about it later.

Someone was playing music that echoed down the halls. He could hear a child singing along.

Mel? Mar's eyes snapped open.

Tai, half asleep only moments ago, shuddered awake, nearly falling out of his chair. "Mar?" He followed Mar's gaze to the open door, getting up to shut it.

"No," whispered Mar.

Tai turned back to him. "Okay." Slowly, he sat back in his chair. "How are you feeling?"

"Like you did the one thing I told you to never do."

He grimaced. "I was hoping you forgot."

Raising his arms, Mar flexed his wrists and elbows around the ports. "Fuck. Don't worry, when Cora inevitably tears your head off, we'll plug you right in. Might even sew it back on the right way." His arms flopped back to his sides.

At this, Tai looked particularly off-color. "I've gotten close a couple times."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing, really. I just talk too much."

Mar narrowed his eyes. "You know, sometimes I think you're worse than Erie."

"At least Erie has Leo to tell him when to stop." Tai flopped forward, resting his forehead on Mar's chest and groaning. "I lied. I lost my sense, panicked, attacked Tor and nearly killed him, said some really fucked up things that Cora found out about. Hence the, uh, hand-shaped bruise on my jaw."

"I saw that. You're lucky." He was getting tired again. "She's not as patient with us as she used to be."

"She can't be, not now."

Ray tripped on a stone edge, crashing through the doorway. He'd come at a full sprint out of his office and now regretted it immensely. "Agh... I thought I heard Mar."

"You did," replied Tai, face still hidden.

Mar attempted a wave, only managing to raise the fingers on his dominant hand. "You're still here."

Gathering himself, Ray stood. "I am indeed. Everything is going exactly to plan. Well, uh, partially. It's not really my plan anymore."

"Where's Cora?"