The sound of someone pounding on the door jerked him from a sound sleep, setting his heart hammering at twice its normal speed. Instantly, he was fully alert, rolling out of bed and moving quickly, silently from his bedroom to the front door. Magic came easily, flooding through him, sparking at his fingertips—just in case.
It was hours before sunrise but still well past midnight. Whatever this was, it was not a social call, and he was suddenly silently grateful that he’d listened to his instincts and stowed bug-out bags aboard his ship already.
Still, the sudden realization that they might need to run—that he might need to run, to abandon everything he’d built here on Centrallia—was jarring, enough to sour his stomach and tighten his throat.
For a second, he hoped it would be nothing, even though he knew that wasn’t the case.
The pounding came again when he was halfway to the door. His jaw tightened. There was urgency in the knocking, fear, not authority. Someone coming to warn us? But about what?
His mind spiraled through the possibilities with one floating quickly to the top as he crossed the wooden floor. I miscalculated. They’ve never come to find what happened to one of their facilities before. She must be more important to their plans than I thought—or the installation was a bigger piece of their plans.
Or they just don’t want anyone to know what they were planning. Of course, it was too late for any of that, but if they—
Stop. You don’t know. He cast his senses toward the door, wincing slightly, bracing himself to be wrong about who might be out there.
Relief flooded through him when he realized it was Val—at least, for a few seconds before he realized that Val’s presence wasn’t something to exactly be celebrated.
He unlocked the door and jerked it open, reaching to drag Val inside. It didn’t take much to get him across the threshold; Val ducked inside and pushed the door closed behind him. His voice came as a harsh whisper.
“You two need to get out of here,” Val hissed. “And you need to go tonight before they start searching the outlying areas.”
“The Veritans?”
Val nodded quickly. “They showed up a little before sunset. Most folks think they’re just strangers, but they’re clearly looking for someone or something if you know how to look—and you and Dar and I know exactly what they’re looking for. Is your ship ready?”
He nodded. “I checked two days ago. Damn. This—”
“Unexpected, I know. Shouldn’t have happened, I know. Take her and run, Eamon. Dodge them. I checked, there’s nothing big in orbit. That’s why it took me so long to get out here. I had to be sure. I didn’t want you getting shot at coming up through atmo.”
A chill shot through him. “You think they’d risk it?”
“You don’t?”
He winced. “How long do you think we have?”
“If you’re not lifting in an hour or less, I’d be concerned.”
Damn. “Right. Get out of here and keep your head down. Keep an eye on the place while I’m gone?”
“Forever if I have to,” Val said. “Don’t tell me where you’re going or if you’re planning to come back. If they figure me out, I don’t want to be able to tell them anything more than I already know.” He reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Be careful.”
He pulled him into a hug. “You first. Tell Daria—”
“I will.” Val squeezed him tight for a second, then let go, pivoting back to the door. He was out and gone in in the space of another heartbeat, leaving him standing there, staring at the space where his friend had been.
Get it together. He muttered a curse and ran to her bedroom door.
“Kelcie,” he hissed. “Kelcie, wake up.”
She stirred, rolling over in the bed, but it was another agonizing few seconds before her sleepy voice said, “Davion? What’s going on?”
“Grab your clothes and your boots and anything else you think is important to grab,” he said. “We’re leaving.”
Instantly, she was awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. “Leaving? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“They’re here.”
“Here?” Her voice instantly dropped to a hiss and she looked around wildly, gaze landing on the closed curtains. He almost cursed himself for a fool.
You’re not thinking clearly enough. Breathe. Don’t let panic settle in. You’ve got a job to do and you’re going to do it, one way or another. “On-planet, in the village. Val came to warn me. We need to leave now.”
“Where will we go?” The question came as she was already gathering her things, shuffling them back into the bundle they’d been in a few days before, when they’d been delivered for her, leaving out her boots. “How far do we have to walk?”
“Go out the back toward the rise behind the house,” he said. “Wait for me there.”
“Okay,” she said, jaw firming. Her sudden steadiness did wonders for his own sudden panic.
Stay in control. His head bobbed in a quick nod and then he darted from her room to his. The movements that came next were fast, practiced, shoving a few more things into a bag before he popped the floorboard, sweeping everything from it into his bag before covering it up again. It was hard to breathe and he knew that his heart was still going too fast. The calm he wanted was eluding him.
He heard her out in the main room, in the kitchen and then near the shelves—then heard the door open and close.
Now or never. Showtime. He squeezed his eyes shut as he threw the last few things into his bag and came to his feet, following her to the door, grabbing his boots with one hand on his way out the door. It seemed silly to lock the house, but he did, stumbling back a few steps. His hand shook as he lifted it toward the house, magic swirling around him as he started to move the illusion that hid his ship over to the cottage instead.
There was no point in leaving that knot untied if he could help it.
It was more of an effort than he’d expected, though he couldn’t be sure if it was because of the fear that had washed through him or if it was because it was a bigger undertaking than he though or maybe it was just haste and need and the attempt to do it as thoroughly as he could. He felt her hand on his arm toward the tale end of it and his heart calmed a little.
Just keep breathing. He tied off the spell, the cottage hidden by the illusion, now, and exhaled, glancing toward her. “We need to pull the camo sheets and—“
“I already pulled them. It seemed like the right thing to do when I started to be able to seep the ship. It’s ready. I just couldn’t find the hatch but I figure you know exactly where it is.”
He managed a weak smile, head bobbing in a nod. “You’re right, I do. Come on.”
She grabbed his boots before he could and they both dashed barefoot across the grass to his ship. She’d dropped the things she’d carried remarkably near the hatch. Starlight and the moon glinted dimly off the hull and his throat tightened for a second.
It’s time. He grabbed one of the bundles she’d dropped and headed for the hatch. “Two cabins,” he said as he cracked the hatch and tossed their things aboard. “You’ll be able to figure out which is which. Strap in.”
“Do you think it’s going to get bumpy?” She said, slipping past him into the corridor as he secured the hatch and its airlock. “Is there anyone waiting up there?”
“Not sure,” he said. “Val said no, but it’s hard to tell from the ground sometimes, and it’s going to depend on whether or not we run into any turbulence clearing the atmosphere, too. I’ve got to—”
“Get to the controls,” she finished. “I know. I’ll get everything stowed.” She swallowed, meeting his gaze steadily. “I trust you.”
“Strap in,” he said again, quietly. “I’m going to get us out of here.”
She nodded. “I know.”
He nodded again, then dashed for the cockpit, unable to shake the feeling that they were running out of time. The decking was cold against his bare feet as he skidded through the cockpit door and threw himself into the pilot’s chair, starting to flip switches, setting the engines warming, activating vital ship systems—but very deliberately leaving every single running light off. That was attention they didn’t need and every tiny advantage that they could garner would help.
At least, that was what he was telling himself. He hoped they wouldn’t need half of them.
I hope you’re right, Val. I hope there’s nothing up there waiting to ambush us. The only choice would be to make sure he had a course laid in so they could make a jump as soon as they’d cleared enough of the atmosphere for it to be safe.
Keep it together, Eamon. Do your job. Right now, getting off-planet and keeping her safe is your job. You can do this.
You have to do this.
For a second, he closed his eyes, breathing slowly, deeply.
Then, he opened them again and started lifting the ship off the ground.
All of the old instincts came back as the ship cleared the low rise. His heart started to settle down.
Glancing toward the horizon and the moons that hung low over it, he smiled, hitting the accelerator and zooming off into the night sky. It was exactly like old times. Do your job, he told himself again.
Just do your job.
He angled the ship’s nose upward, checking their climb. At least half of his attention was elsewhere, poured into seeking the best route away from the system, out of the Protected Zone, back to the rest of the galaxy.
Varrus IV first. We can get our bearings and snag some gear before we make another move—or make contact with her father. The course came easily, a fast, safe route through jumpspace. No one would suspect that jump. It was the safest option.
He glanced up through the viewport as the ship began to shake, reaching to adjust the angle of their ascent to ease the turbulence.
His hand fell away from the controls as he saw it, moving black against the stars. Bile rose in his throat.
Val had been wrong, but he couldn’t be blamed for it.
No one could have seen the Obsidian from the ground.
No one.
