Lapis had not expected to return to the Shivers so soon, but she appreciated, she did not have to fly with Drakeways shanks glaring death at her. The Minq laughed over their hunch-shouldered defiance, prodding them in the sides with tech barrels, and she thought they should take the group more seriously because desperate men did desperate things.

She hoped, when they arrived at the workstation, the Black Hats treated them with all the dignity they deserved.

The Cloister khentauree but for Dov and Tuft poured out of the Swift and hastened to the Cloister’s entrance, buzzing and talking to the animated friends who met them. Again, space was tight even though the craft was large enough to cart two terrons home, and she did not blame them for wanting to vacate as soon as possible. She needed a good stretch herself.

Despite the noise, Patch, Rin and Brander remained oblivious to the world, sunk deep into sleep. She wished she could wallow in slumber, but when the wind gently rocked the Swift, she jerked awake in heart-pounding fright. Her joy when she first rode in her uncle’s Swift had dived into a nauseous dread that the craft would plow into the ground at unexpected moments.

Dov turned their head from the window to watch the exodus, then accepted Tuft’s hand to help them to their feet. They fought for balance before taking a wobbly step to the exit.

“You may not wish it, but Jhor must look at you,” Chiddle said. He had wedged himself between the pilot’s seat and Lapis, and she had the impression he and Tuft had words about it, though she could not fathom why. Wherever space one could squeeze into, they squeezed into. “Ill times come, and the Cloister and the Shivers will need protectors.”

“I do as Luveth commands,” Dov said, their tone as lifeless as a dead bee. They did not want to obey Luveth anymore? Jhor’s programming should have ended the forced prayer to the non-existent gods, and therefore ended the Cloister’s reliance on her and her leadership. Dreamer snatched at the opportunity, and she suspected that a certain icy khentauree would invite himself along to Jilvayna. Why not follow their example and do something outside the previous restrictions that they might enjoy?

Chiddle cocked his head. “Why?”

“We are told to respect her words, to respect Dedi’s words.”

“Change. Follow Vision.” Tuft released their hand and motioned to the entrance. “She is odd, but her interest is to see khentauree whole and well.”

“Change? How?”

“Jhor gave you the way. Follow his path to discover your own.”

The rest of their original group exited the Cloister and crunched over half-cleared pathways to the Swift, Tearlach in the lead, accompanied by Vision, Heven and Spring. Other khentauree prodded two blindfolded and bound men with simple pointy sticks. They snarled and stamped, but that did not stop the khentauree from jabbing them. Black Hat mercs walked with them, grinning at the captives’ misfortune.

Ah. The Beryl agent and Hoyt’s man. Fun times. She had thought the Abastion rebels would toss the shanks into a cell until they spat out info, but apparently her brother had designs on them.

“You made quite the impression,” Tearlach said as he stopped at the bottom of the ramp and motioned for the others to precede him.

“Impression?” she asked, squinting at him as Caitria and Mairin entered; the former had tearstains and a red face, and by the way her love sat with and held her after they stowed their gear, her good-bye to Ty had not gone well.

“It’s all over the news,” he said with a crisp dryness that tweaked her concern.

“You and Tuft,” Scand crooned as he hopped inside and plastered himself next to Rin. His ecstatic grin sat even less well with her than Tearlach’s sarcasm.

“Me and Tuft.”

“Escaping Torc Bedan,” Tearlach said. “They caught you on camera.”

“Not that there was much to see,” Dagby said as he walked up the ramp. A fiery red scar ran from his left brow to his jaw, not deep, but enough of a cut that, once it healed, he would have that rough, world-wise merc look. “A whirl of snow and blur. They showed other khentauree, too, but they were charcoal, not silver.” He shoved his pack under a seat and collapsed.

“Yeah.” Lapis fiddled with the strings of her hood, annoyed and disturbed by the news. “Charcoal means they’re military. The other colors identify them; blue for frontline fighters, green for medics, cyan for sentries.”

“Someone leaked the footage to the press, and they don’t know what to do with it,” Tearlach said. “No one knows who the khentauree are, even the experts the news has trotted out for interviews. Their conspiracy theories about syndicate machines or a Taangis invasion are painful, not informative.” He climbed up the stairs and dumped his things into a seat. “So the Dentherions were hiding military khentauree below Torc Bedan.”

“Yeah. It looks like they built the base over an old Taangin site, one buried in the earth like Ragehill. I’m betting the high command knew about them, had no idea what to do with them, so kept them locked up until they figured out a way to use them.”

“They are not special khentauree,” Tuft murmured. “They only follow their programming, so are unsafe.”

“That is true, they are not safe.” Vision halted at the side ramp as the back end slowly lowered for the terrons. The wider entry gave them easy access to the cargo hold, so they did not have to worry about crushing chairs as they headed for the bay. The Black Hats forced the captives up the ramp first, and tied them to metal poles meant to secure cargo, then scooted further in to give Mint and Tia room.

“What else do we need to know about them?” Lapis asked.

“They are early khenaturee, before aquatheerdaal powered our chassis. I am surprised they still function. Their energy source is called drabela. It is from the country you now call Alleurs and Meurgeld. They had mines for a mineral called abela, and they refined it into drabela. Drabela is as aquatheerdaal, but prone to fire. Once Meergevenis developed aquatheerdaal-reliant tech that worked with oil-based circulatory systems, Alleurs no longer conducted the research.

“Drabela-powered khentauree were stored, ignored, neglected. They are forgotten khentauree.” She buzzed, a sad, soft sound. “They don’t know they were abandoned. They only know to find a commander and ask for commands.”

“They could not access the console that issued orders,” Tuft said. “They are lost, without a guide. They listened to me when I commanded them, but their obedience did not last.”

Lapis thought Tuft underestimated the strength of his words; she felt the compulsion, and she was human. Was that something Gedaavik put into his extra-special khentauree code? How? For what purpose?

“That’s not good.” Vision shook her head. “They will search for a commander, and they will conduct themselves as if they move in enemy territory. We do not know how far they will travel to find one. Ragehill is an old Taangin base—they may come here. I told Lorcan this, but there is trouble, and it is up to others to make plans.”

“Trouble?” Lapis shifted in her seat to better see Tearlach.

“The Coral’s rebel House wants to take advantage of the chaos,” Caitria whispered. “Azzo’s gathering an attack group to target the palace, and rebels from across Abastion are rushing to support. The Wolf Collaborate urged caution because they want to coordinate the attacks, but Azzo said no.”

“I’m sorry.” She knew, her heart would ache in the same way soon enough. Old friends, new friends, all would endanger themselves in the coming days in the effort to depose Gall before Celem cemented himself as Dentherion Empire ruler. Hope prodded the determined, despite the knowledge many would not return.

Caitria shook her head. “No. He’ll be fine. My father’s a planner and implementor, not a frontline fighter. And, like Jilvayna’s king, Standic is weak, too reliant on Dentherion tech that’s no longer viable or available. But there will be deaths. Maybe too many deaths.”

Lapis glanced at Scand, and he pursed his lips and signed Ty. Ty had been an ass, then, and only added to Caitria’s miserable worry. She knew teens held grudges, but she did not think his anger justified or prudent.

She drew her thoughts back to the more pressing issue. “Vision, the khentauree we faced ran out of power pretty quick. Do you think they can make it out of Dentheria?”

“Yes. Even without a backup power supply, they will reserve energy as they can, and they have knowledge of other sources they can use to continue functioning. They will raid for power, as their orders are to find a commander at all costs. Nothing will hamper them in this goal.”

Lapis shivered at the thought of facing them again. “Can the Cloister and Shivers khentauree help Ragehill against the military khentauree?”

“Yes,” they said together.

“Ragehill may be a destination,” Vision continued. “And if they reach Ragehill, they will realize we khentauree are nearby. Military machines have orders to exterminate unknown khentauree first, for they will assume we fight for the enemy. We must prepare.”

“Dov needs Jhor to look at his chassis,” Chiddle said. “Sils has done so, but he admits, Jhor is better than he with mechanical beings. Then he will be ready for battle.”

Dov’s buzz sounded like a deep growl, which ended as Vision’s head swiveled to them. They stepped back, tread on Tuft, jerked away, and froze.

“Jhor is smart and agile with his hands,” Vision said. “If we knew where Luveth was, we could ask him to look at her as well.” She focused on the ice khentauree.

Dov looked at Tuft as well, who folded his arms and, by body language rather than a buzz, expressed his deep resentment that she brought up the Cloister’s priestess. “She waits,” he said.

“She sings songs of sadness. You know this. You left her to her thoughts. It is time to let resentment go.”

“I protected her, as I protected those she targeted,” Tuft snapped. Lapis glared; he thought icing her, Linz and the scientists into a room without an exit protection? From Linz’s unhappy sternness, they did not like his description, either.

“And now you must free her. I will convince her of the danger, and once she knows Dreamer inhabits Ree-god’s body, she will know her convictions were dead before she followed them. She will know, if she truly cares for those she leads, she will channel herself into another way. Pride will force her hand. Where is she, Tuft?”

Lapis’s chest twinged at the soft demand. A gentle but thin surface of civility covered a deep well of seething anger; she knew, if the khentauree directed the question at her, she would do whatever the mechanical being wanted. She would assume injury or death awaited her if she refused.

“You believe she will listen, when she has spent centuries denying your voice?” His words crackled, but she could not tell whether he meant to mock or issue a serious statement.

“She will listen,” came the patient reply.

“Luveth will not,” Dov hissed. “Dedi will not. They block dissent.”

“They squandered a wide and open future, and their payment is due.” She rearranged her transparent purple scarf, whose dangling beaded strands caught the wind. They twisted, tangled, and threatened to leap from her shoulders and joyously skid across the trampled snow. “We turn upon a crossroads with many avenues and byways. Decisions of the past pound against them, and we must set our path before all ways become impassible. Where is she, Tuft?”

He drew himself to his full height and looked down on the fortune teller. “You already know.”

“And you know why I ask.”

He stood as still as a statue but for the wind playing in his hair, earrings, and tail. Did he and Vision speak? Lapis glanced at Heven and Spring, who shrugged, then at the rebels, who did not have answers. Vision finally sighed, over-dramatic.

“Stubbornness is not as resilient a trait as you think,” she told the ice khentauree, sounding as exasperated as a mother who caught her child with sweets, but the child studiously denied they clutched them in their hands.

“She is with Maphezet Kez.”

Lapis stared at Tuft, shocked. “You said you unhooked him.”

“I did.”

He had locked Luveth in a room with the remains of the man who caused the local khentauree so much pain? Why? What would sharing space with a corpse do to change her mind? Or had his dry husk fallen away, leaving only a skeleton as proof he once walked the earth? Would that convince her he no longer had sway over her?

“She now knows his Stars fell,” Vision agreed. “She knows her loyalty meant nothing. Forcing her sorrow is unkind, Tuft.”

He clicked and buzz-growled, but in the end, the khentauree nodded, satisfied, and held her hand to Dov. “Your strength is needed. Come. Jhor will not take long, for he must leave for Jiy. And then, you will become as you always wished.” She swiveled her head to Tuft. “Luthier will act in your stead until she believes herself capable of leading on her own.”

He said nothing before trotting down the ramp, brushing past her, and heading for the entrance.

Vision sighed. “Be kind. He is young yet.” She, too, returned to the entrance; Lapis raised an eyebrow at Heven and Spring, who stared after her, then back into the Swift.

“Young yet?” She did not consider a millennia or so especially young, and if Vision did, when had she first seen light?

“Vision is old,” Spring said and did not elaborate. Lapis did not think that explained anything.

Chiddle buzzed, and all eyes turned to him. “Sanna says they will make sure Dov and Luveth are well. Kathandra has agreed to take the scientists and see them back to Meergevenis. We will go, and Jhor and Sanna will fly with them and the rest of the Black Hats to the workstation.”

“Stars’ safe journey,” Heven told them, backing from the ramp. “Vision plans much change. You will not recognize the Cloister when you return.”

Lapis waved; while the thought of returning made her insides quake, she did like Heven and Spring, and would not mind getting to know them better. And Sovicci and their friends seemed nice enough.

“Where’s Tamor?” Linz asked, half-rising from her seat behind Lapis and leaning over to peer at the trampled snow between the Swift and the Cloisters.

Tearlach waited until Heven and Spring had trotted out of hearing range, then slid his stuff to the seat next to him. “Taking pictures.”

Of what? Lapis had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach over the declaration, and she hoped he did not push the khentauree too far by nosing around. Shara must have given him orders to do so, but she did not think it wise to provoke them.

Tuft galloped to them and bounded up the ramp before it sucked into the Swift.

“Strap in,” the pilot said.