And Rayan had helped her. With every crash bang crash of the crowbar, he had been seeking his clustermate. Why was Rayan trying to keep him out? What was he hiding? The cluster spores in the galley were no use, their senses not nearly as keen or as helpful as Rayan’s actual eyes. It was like screaming at someone across a canyon. His own voice rang back, but there was no answer from Rayan. He banged on the door and tried to see through Rayan’s eyes, but something stopped him. It was infuriating.

Which made him laugh. Of course. Piero threw back his head, lying flat on the floor, laughing and laughing, letting the horrible blood run freely into his mouth. He swallowed. Who cared? It was no use trying to fight the two of them, and besides, they needed her alive. Just for a little while the clever little shit had to live. He wiped at his eyes again and finally realized he could see. Blinking through the stinging, he gazed up through a lingering white fog at Rayan and the woman. There had been only glimpses of her through the cluster network as he made his way from the crew deck, Rayan keeping him from getting the full picture.

Mother—Foxfire—would be furious with him.

A sense of urgency had swept over him once the ship reset and the doors cycled. Mother told him to go and go fast. Things were happening. Something lucky had fallen into their laps. Something very interesting. Something that Mother wanted desperately to know more about. Piero’s laughter died out until it was just a soft, mirthful hoot. Of course Rayan had bungled this. Or maybe . . .

He’s winning her trust, the dark voice inside of him suggested. He’s lowering her defenses. Perhaps he is the clever little shit. Trust your brother. Trust your cluster.

Piero let that possibility wash over him. It felt good. And anyway, he didn’t really like violence, preferred to avoid it. It was so volgare. His father smacked him around only as a necessity. That was a good policy. Who knows? He might have swung that crowbar too hard and killed the girl before Mother got what she needed out of her.

“That wasn’t very polite,” he said up to their astonished faces. It came out garbled. One of his teeth was chipped, he now realized. They had been murmuring to each other but he didn’t bother to listen. He had to play this Rayan’s way. Make friends. He could do that. Friends relaxed. Friends let you pour them a drink. Let you in. Let you help. And then? Well, his father always said, If you can pat a man on the back, then you can put a knife there, too.

Rayan dropped down next to him, his teeth clenched in horror. “Piero . . . I’m so sorry. I should have stopped her. I didn’t know what to do.”