“Yes, I can.” Doran brushed past her and strode back the way they’d come. “Because she won’t tell.”
“Oh, please.” Solara chased after him and tugged his sleeve. “That airhead’s already folding like a deck of cards. I’d put money on…” She trailed off when a streak of movement in the background flashed between two vendor tents. When she peered between the next gap, she noticed a set of familiar dreadlocks flapping in the breeze behind their owners, who were sprinting toward the Banshee’s shuttle like the devil was on their heels.
“Cassia and Kane,” Solara said, pointing. “Something’s wrong.”
She and Doran jogged in that direction, then increased their speed to a full-on bolt when they saw the shuttle doors open and Kane hurtle himself into the pilot’s seat. At once, the engines hummed, sending a blast of warm air over them.
“Wait!” Solara screamed while waving one arm.
Cassia made eye contact just before leaping into the passenger’s seat. After darting a glance in the opposite direction, she made a hurry up motion and pointed at the rear hatch, which had begun a slow rise. Solara pumped her legs harder and faster while fear chilled her skin.
What were they running from?
The hatch was fully raised when she reached it, exposing a narrow cargo area behind the two front seats. Without slowing, she launched her body onto the floor and braced for Doran’s impact. He landed half on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs, and then the shuttle rose sharply while the rear hatch was still open.
“Grab on to something,” Kane shouted as he veered the craft hard to the left.
Solara gripped the back of the passenger’s seat with one hand and hooked the other around Doran’s waist. He wrapped a leg around both of hers, and together they held on for dear life while the hatch gradually closed.
“Attention, Captain,” Cassia called through the com-link. “We’re coming in hot. The Daeva are here. I spotted them on foot, but their ship is probably nearby.” Her voice cracked, and she repeated, “The Daeva are here. Do you copy?”
She pronounced it day-vuh, a word Solara had never heard before.
The captain responded with a curse, and the noise of the ship’s engines roared to life in the background. “Don’t bother landing,” he ordered. “I’ll meet you halfway. Use the tow cables to dock. With any luck, we’ll be long gone before they’re airborne.”
“Copy that,” Cassia said.
“Do you have your pills?” the captain asked, his voice dark as the grave.
“No.” Cassia sounded strangled when she answered. “It’s been so long since the last time that I hoped—”
He swore again and cut off the link.
Solara tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry. She felt Doran’s heart thumping against her shoulder and whispered, “What’s a Daeva?”
“I don’t know.” He was still panting from their mad dash across the fairgrounds. “And I don’t want to find out.”
That was twice they’d agreed on something.
Soon the floor rumbled and the Banshee appeared in front of them. Two metallic cables snaked out from the shuttle, latching onto the main ship with a loud click that shook the hull. A sudden dropping sensation, followed by the Banshee’s signature screech, told Solara the ship had accelerated into the atmosphere without bothering to dock the shuttle. There was only one reason for a captain to abuse his equipment like that, and the answer made her shudder.
Once the tow cables had reeled them in, they all clambered out of the craft and through the docking door leading to the ship’s cargo hold, then jogged up the stairs to the galley.
Renny was waiting there for them. Sweat shimmered along his brow and upper lip, and his hand trembled as he held out four necklaces made of fibrous cords, each bearing a black pendant no larger than a thumbnail. Cassia and Kane took one and worked the cords over their dreadlocks. Solara noted that Renny already wore his, but he’d tucked the pendant beneath his shirt.
“What’s this?” she asked him.
He moved closer and showed her that the pendant was a locket of sorts. He opened it, and a pea-size capsule rested inside.
“Good old-fashioned cyanide,” he said. When her eyes widened, he opened his jacket to reveal a pulse pistol tucked beneath his waistband. “We won’t go down without a fight. It’s just a precaution. If they take you, all you have to do is bite down on this, and it’ll be over in minutes.”
“A suicide pill?” She stared at the tiny sphere, so innocuous it could pass for a breath mint. Was he actually suggesting she take her own life instead of surrendering to capture? He couldn’t be serious. But as much as she wanted to believe this was an elaborate prank, the absence of color in Renny’s face wouldn’t allow it.