Rhea rested her hands on Clo’s shoulders. The other woman’s muscles tensed, then relaxed. Rhea leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly to the back of the other woman’s neck. She shivered.

In Clo’s ear, Rhea whispered, “Place your faith in me, Clo.”

Just before they entered the dark expanse of space, to break apart and come back together again, Clo turned her head and placed a soft kiss on Rhea’s lips.

—

Clo hid Zelus behind the asteroids as the others joined her and Rhea on the bridge.

Their target was on the way. Lysicrates, an embassy ship from Philana, a war-proud planet that raised millions of soldiers for the Tholosian Empire. The ten delegates would be welcomed with open arms to the ball. Arriving with four fewer people than expected would raise questions, but they had their story ready. Ariadne had collected a dossier of information on each diplomat. Kyla and Sher would decide everyone’s roles, and which four would be the missing delegates.

“Seven devils, I hope this works,” Clo said.

“It will.” Nyx’s eyes were bright as she gazed out of the window, a hunter about to pounce. “We can’t think in terms of failure. We can only hope for victory.”

How Tholosian, Rhea wanted to say, but wisely remained silent.

“I’ll go, if you need me,” Cato said from his perch at the back of the bridge. All heads turned toward him. He no longer wore his uniform, but he stood as stiff and straight as any soldier.

“I’m not convinced you’re ready,” Nyx said. “Not that we don’t appreciate the offer.”

With Eris gone and this a military mission, Nyx had taken over command. Rhea had expected Clo to bristle at this, but she hadn’t. Clo was more worried about Eris than she let on.

“What’s a little identity kidnapping between friends?” He gave Rhea a grin, as if he didn’t care, but Rhea felt his nervousness. “You need all of us for this. There are ten delegates and at least ten soldiers guarding them. So, unless you want to put yourself at more risk, take my help.”

Rhea had seen so much change in him. Though Cato was working on building himself back up, he no longer recited Tholosian propaganda in his sleep. His military haircut was growing out, shaggy around the ears. He’d been regaining the muscle sapped by his wounds and fever. Rhea had seen this man sob and cry out for death as the Oracle programming dug its tendrils in deeper before the hold finally broke. She didn’t know what sort of man he’d be now. Rhea doubted he did either.

“All right,” Nyx said. “But stay close. I’ll find you a weapon.”