But now the owners of that spilled beer are standing to meet me, and other furious eyes watch from the rest of the suddenly quiet bar. Too late, I remember a lesson Momma taught me on our first visit to Deva: “You won’t get arrested for something as mundane as a bar fight, but you will get your ass kicked for ruining someone’s good time.”

I glance over my shoulder for support, stomach sinking as I realize I just sabotaged my own plan without even thinking about it. Drom is doing her best to pretend not to know me, and the arms dealers are slipping out the door. Lyre stands with her comm in her hand and a resigned look on her face.

“I’ll tell Scorpia we’re going to be late,” she says.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Blood Ties

Scorpia

Five, ten, fifteen minutes pass in an increasingly tense quiet. The apartment complex I told Shey to meet me in is empty except for a few homeless Devans camped out in the floors below. It was easy enough to find an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city, where struggling against the jungle is an everyday occurrence. This complex was initially shut down for dolor-tree infestation, and the city must have seized the property, likely because the owner couldn’t pay to handle the issue. Now, the tall building is acquiring dust and waiting for someone to buy it. Knowing Zi Vi, it won’t take too long. I shift and check my comm, receiving nothing, barely resisting the urge to message Shey again or check in with my siblings. The shots I took in that bar are hitting me harder than I expected—Devans certainly like their shit strong—and my spinning head isn’t doing me any favors as I wait. Finally, I hear footsteps on the stairs.

Even knowing what I have planned, seeing Shey again makes my heart jump against my ribs. She’s wearing her usual stiff Gaian clothing and gloves, her thick hair frizzing in the humidity. Her look is beyond understated on a planet like this, yet I know I’d pick her face out of any crowd.

She steps forward and holds her gloved hands out toward me, palms facing the sky and fingers spread. The gesture sends a jolt of surprise through me. I know that gesture—a traditional Gaian greeting, but unlike the crossed arms she gave me last time, this one is informal, familiar. It’s a greeting for your family and friends—your “in-group,” as Gaians think of it. No one has ever greeted me like that before. I’ve never been accepted in such a way by a Gaian.