I glance around at the other council members. Surely it can’t be that easy. They couldn’t have reached a unanimous consensus in such a short, stressful amount of time. I expected that when they reached a decision, there would be dissenters—I expected a chamber full of arguments and resentment. But instead, each member of the council is quiet. Is it really possible? Under pressure, did each of them decide that they would grant refuge to their longtime enemies?

“That’s it?” I murmur to Scorpia, while Shey steps forward to talk in low tones with the council, arranging a conversation with her mother.

“Stars, I hope so,” she mutters back. “I could really use a drink.”

“We’re on the same page for once.”

Scorpia clears her throat loudly, gaining the attention of the council again, whose faces are quite a bit less serene when they’re looking at us instead of at Shey.

“So, uh, thanks and good luck and all that,” Scorpia says, either not noticing or not caring about the looks she’s getting. “If you need us, we’ll be at… what’s the nearest pub?”

Acharya continues his conversation with Shey as if Scorpia had never spoken, but Heikki looks directly at her and forces a strained smile.

“Actually, I’m afraid we aren’t quite done with you yet,” she says.

“Meaning?” My hand snakes toward my hip, reaching for a blaster that isn’t there, before I remember the vial in my hand and tighten my grip on that. But though they kept their distance earlier, the security guards approach now at Heikki’s nod, warily closing in on us. Beyond them, a large force of Nibiran peacekeepers floods into the room.

“What were you saying about not getting arrested?” I ask Scorpia, who sighs and flips me off with one raised hand.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

A Tangled Web

Scorpia

As it turns out, we’re not actually being arrested, for once. The peacekeepers, as the council explains, are here to escort us to our ship, which we will then be expected to board immediately. If we’re not off-planet within the hour, then we’ll be arrested.

All things considered, it seems like a fair judgment, and nobody—certainly not Shey—tries to argue in our defense. Even Drom is quiet as they usher us out the door.

Shey doesn’t say goodbye. She doesn’t even turn to watch us leave. I guess I deserve that, too, though I can’t deny it stings. I cast one last look at her as I’m herded out of the chamber, catching a glimpse of her profile as she discusses specifics with the Nibiran council members. Then she’s gone.