“If you’re ever shot down, there won’t be Squallers there to save you,” Adrik said. “Why didn’t you eject?”

“He wasn’t wearing a parachute,” Genya said, glowering at him.

“I didn’t think I would need one,” Nikolai protested. “This wasn’t supposed to be a dogfight. More importantly, does this mean the rockets work?”

“Absolutely not,” said David.

“Sort of,” said Leoni.

“Show me,” said Nikolai.

Genya planted her hands on her hips. “You will sit yourself down and let me make sure you don’t have a concussion. Then you will have a cup of tea. And then, if I’m feeling generous, you can talk to David about things that explode.”

“You do realize I’m the king?”

“Do you?”

Nikolai looked to David for help, but David just shrugged. “I don’t argue with my wife when she’s right.”

“Oh, fine,” said Nikolai. “But I want a cookie with my tea.”

They descended to the laboratories in the clanking brass elevator. The dark rooms and narrow hallways didn’t make for the most healing atmosphere, but they did guarantee privacy. He was grateful for a few minutes to gather his thoughts. He’d been fired at plenty of times, shot more than once, turned into a shadow creature, and stabbed with a letter opener by an otherwise lovely young lady who had been insulted by his attempt at a romantic sonnet. But really, how many things rhymed with “tremulous nests”? He was also fairly sure his older brother had tried to poison him when he was twelve. But this was the closest he’d ever come to dying. The demon was still writhing inside him. It had felt the nearness of death too, and it had been trapped, powerless as they plummeted toward the earth.

What would have happened if Nikolai had let the demon break free? Would it have helped him? Could he have controlled it? It was too steep a wager.

They settled around a table in one of the blueprint rooms as Genya tended to the back of Nikolai’s head and David brewed tea.

“Why is my lead scientist fussing with a kettle?” Nikolai asked.

“Because he doesn’t like the way anyone else makes it,” said Adrik, pulling a tin of chocolate biscuits from a drawer and setting it on the table.

“I wrote out instructions,” David said, brushing the messy brown hair from his eyes. He looked even paler in the dim light of the lab. As much as Nikolai appreciated David’s work ethic, the Fabrikator could use a holiday.

“My love,” Genya said gently. “It doesn’t take seventeen steps to brew tea.”

“It does if you do it properly.”

“Talk to me about my rockets,” said Nikolai.