I’d taken a gamble on this, trusted my gut instinct that the conversations I’d had with Rabi’a pointed to a person who saw the injustices as we saw them. Who understood that this planet and its people would not survive the Vathek occupation. And who, if given the right push, could help us pull back from the brink of collapse.

“If Maram were crowned,” I said, “then she would not only have the combined armies of the rebels and the houses allied with her, but would also be able to call on allies in the senate. We would have a real chance.”

“The odds of winning versus the certainty of a slow death is difficult calculus,” Arinaas said, her mouth curled.

“Is it?” I said, looking at Rabi’a.

“I dislike the idea of going to war against an enemy we have already lost to,” she said, her hand trailing over the box of bows. “But you are right—it is a slow death, a quick one, or victory. I like the odds of the latter over the former.”

Our discussion went on for at least an hour. Tayfur province was not only wealthy in material but in men. While many provinces relied on Vathek droids, Arinaas and her mother had cultivated mounted cavalry—afraas—and they numbered in the tens of thousands now.

“It has come with problems,” Rabi’a said. “Mathis has installed spies. He will not tolerate a rival military presence. You will have to be careful.”

“We need safe houses for now,” she said. “Perhaps it will not come to war.”

Rabi’a scoffed. “Should we be so lucky.”

“We might,” Arinaas countered. “I do not utter dreams just to hear them, Rabi’a bint Ifran.”

“Well,” Rabi’a said, surveying the map. “Whatever you have need of, only ask.”

“Said with the brevity of the Zidane,” Arinaas replied with a grin, and held out her hand for a warrior’s shake.

18

It was not long after that we dispersed. Rabi’a returned with her guard by an alternate route, and after bidding farewell to Arinaas, I made my way back down the cavern path. I made it halfway back before I heard a quiet beeping. I’d only ever heard that sound the night of my majority celebration, standing in line beside the other girls.

I froze, my heart in my throat. Of course security monitored these passages, and if the probe got a scan of me, and the log fell into anyone’s hands—I didn’t want to imagine the consequences. A hand reached out of the dark and pulled me against the wall.

“Be quiet,” Idris whispered. I stared at him, torn between my fear of the probe and the shock of seeing him in the passageway. He had a beacon in one hand that vibrated when he pressed a button.