When she saw Andi, a slight smile came onto her face.
“How are you?” Andi asked. “I heard Lon is recovering well.” She crossed the room and settled down on the bed beside her pilot while Gilly tried to recruit Breck to her matching-gown cause, and Breck howled about how she would only agree if Gilly got rid of her bloodthirsty little devil beast.
“Lon will heal,” Lira said. “And Alara has arrived safely on Arcardius. We had a bit of a reunion last night, the three of us.”
“I knew he’d survive,” Andi said, as she tugged on a silver tassel on one of the pillows. “And I’m so glad that Alara came through the attack unscathed. How are you though?”
Lira tilted her head.
“Since our conversation, on the way here,” Andi said. If she closed her eyes, she could almost taste the lingering flavor of Griss. The thought alone made her want to vomit.
Lira looked down at the scales on her arms. “It is customary, on my planet, for us to mourn for three days upon the passing of our loved ones.”
Andi wanted to reach out and touch her, but she wasn’t sure how Lira would react. Lira was calm and calculated most of the time. But she also felt things deeply. Sometimes, it was as if Lira’s heart was not kept inside her chest, but held in her hands.
“It will take time to move past what happened on Adhira,” Andi started, but Lira held up a hand.
“My three days of mourning have passed. Lon’s and my aunt’s, too. Now we, and the others who lost loved ones during the attack, must give the lost spirits to the stars, to the trees, to the wind.”
Lira never spoke openly about her beliefs. They were things she treasured, and kept close. Just like the reality of her aunt’s true career, and what she’d offered Lira long ago.
“How will you know if they’ve been given up?” Andi asked.
“We will know.” Lira smiled softly. Her gaze swept to the window, where sunlight was trickling in like a golden river. “We will feel them.” She smiled then, a genuine, glittering thing. “I have a surprise for you all.”
Andi quirked a brow at her friend.
“Well, it’s not exactly my surprise, but a surprise from my aunt.”
Andi secretly hoped Queen Alara had brought them a bottle of Jurum, because she would need a glass or two if she was going to survive the night.
“Despite her feelings on the matter, she knew how much I love piloting the Marauder, and how having to leave it behind hurt us all.” She looked at Andi. “So...she brought it with her.”
Andi couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.
“No way!” Gilly screamed, while Breck’s jaw dropped.
“It’s here? On Arcardius?” Andi questioned in amazement.
“It sure is.” Lira smiled at her friend. “And fully repaired. Believe me, I’m as surprised as the rest of you.”
Andi pulled her into a hug. She would have her ship back after all, no matter what General Cortas had to say.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Lira. Then she turned to her gunners. “Get your stuff together. Before we leave for the ball, we’ll pack up the ship, so we can get the hell out of here the moment it’s done and the general wires us our funds. And Gilly, that includes Havoc. But I want him caged if he’s to be on the Marauder.”
Gilly sighed before mumbling in agreement.
“Is it okay if Lon gets transferred to the Marauder during the ball?” Lira asked. “He’s not well enough to attend, and after I would like to take him home myself. I know it’s an extra stop, but...I figured, after this is all done, we won’t be in a rush to get to another job anytime soon, with all the Krevs the general is about to give us.”
“Of course, Lir.”
“Ladies,” Breck said, smiling at the news. “After tonight, we’re going to be rich.”
The mood in the room lightened tenfold.
The girls sat together for a time, enjoying the peace of each other’s presence. They had always been this way, like the many parts of a whole. The captain and her pilot, the sounds of Breck and Gilly in the background like music to soothe their souls.
There was a knock at the door, and a red servant droid rolled in, clawed hands holding out a silver box.
“For you, miss,” the droid’s robotic voice spoke. “From Mr. Valen Cortas.” The droid placed the box on the bed beside Andi, bowed once and rolled out of the room.
“What’s in it?” Gilly asked.
She set her beast down, and it immediately began to claw at the thick plush blankets, tearing a hole the size of Andi’s fist in the fabric.
“Gilly,” Breck breathed out, her teeth gritted. “Take the monster back to its cage.”
Gilly ignored her, gently nudging the creature from the bed. It scurried past Breck’s feet, and the giantess leaped onto the mattress, causing the box’s lid to tumble over.
“Damn,” Gilly said as she peered inside.
Lira smiled, her lips pressed together. “It would seem, Androma, that Valen intends to make you a centerpiece at the ball.”
“Not the kind you’re thinking,” Andi said. “We talked about it last night.”
She was about to reach into the box when a knock sounded at the door.
“That had better be the matching gowns I ordered,” Gilly said. Breck groaned.
The door slid open, and three workers entered, their loose skirts fluttering around their ankles, boxes of makeup and hair products held in their arms.
“We’re here to assist Madams Lira, Gilly and Breck in their preparations,” the tallest of the women said.
“The Godstars must be real,” Breck responded with a sigh, staring longingly at the Arcardian beauty products. “Come on in, friends.”
Andi stepped aside to let them pass, smiling as she watched her crew. They deserved this morning, deserved this small gift of normalcy.
She was about to leave the room when another woman slipped inside. A white hood lined with tassels hung over her face. It fell back as she stopped before Andi, her blond ringlets glowing as bright as her smile.
“My, how you’ve grown,” she said, her voice delicate as a blossom.
It couldn’t be her, not after everything Andi’s father had said the night before.
She stood frozen as her mother wrapped her in her arms.
*
Glorya Racella had always had the power to make anyone feel comfortable in her presence.
Her voice was like music, her scent as sweet as the finest Arcardian petals and her smile, always present on her face, lit up her features like the moons lit the night sky.
Andi sat in a chair, staring into the mirror as her mother stood behind her, running a brush through her hair.
So many times growing up, they had done this—shared secrets during their quiet moments together, Andi relaxing as her mother’s fingertips gently pulled at her scalp. It should have soothed her like it always had in the past.
But today she felt frozen in a memory, like the subject of a photograph or a painting. Clearly visible, as if she were truly alive, but not quite.