Eris tried not to let her disappointment show. She had been hoping to get some answers out of him. Flames, anything, really. Without another chance for discussion, this would be the end of Zoe’s part in this mission. Kyla wasn’t going to be happy.

The prince stepped back and said, “You will return tomorrow night. My guard will bring you through the east wing of the palace, away from the other guests. Bring along a prototype of the weapon you promised my engineer. Let’s see if you’ve solved Project Harpy as you claim.”

—

Back at the ship’s command center, Eris felt like running again. From the looks on the faces of her compatriots, she wasn’t alone.

“Honestly,” Nyx said, standing near Clo as she started dropping mechanical parts on the work table, “I’m surprised General Damocles didn’t decapitate you right there in the ballroom.”

“Zoe has a certain ribald charm.” Eris eyed the piles of metal and hoped Clo knew what the seven devils she was doing. If they didn’t produce an impressive-enough weapon to show Damocles, he definitely would decapitate her.

“Charm?” Clo snorted. “You were a complete silthole.” She sat back down at her work table, organizing the component pieces on the table that she’d taken from various Novan weaponry, plus the supplies Kyla’s unmanned craft had delivered. “You better hope we can build this in time. Ari and I are saving your hummocks.”

Ariadne sat next to her, wearing oversized goggles. “That bit should go there.” She pointed.

“Do you think you can do this?” Eris asked Clo and Ariadne, gesturing to that pile of parts she couldn’t identify. Her voice sounded even, calm—a far cry from how she felt.

“Build a never-before-seen weapon impressive enough that a warmongering prince will begin trusting you enough to confide the intel Kyla needs? In a day?” Clo examined a piece, set it down. “Doubtful. I say we all get drunk again and enjoy our last hours.”

Nyx made an impatient noise and gestured to the weapon in Clo’s hands. “Better get to work, then. I didn’t escape the Empire just to come back and die.”

Eris felt a pang of guilt. If she died on this planet, at least it was during a mission doing something she believed in. These three were refugees. And they were still risking their lives when they should have been given a chance at a normal life.

She met Clo’s gaze, and the other woman bowed over the firearm she was taking apart. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Clo asked them, her expression reluctant.

They all exchanged looks.

Nyx spoke first. “Why don’t we start with the good before getting to the steaming pile of shit?”

“I’m pretty sure we can make this weapon. I’m also pretty sure I can make it in time.”