No. You can’t rest. You have to be strong.

“Ari,” Rhea urged insistently, her grip on the girl tightening. “Ari.”

Ariadne didn’t respond.

“Come, child,” the Oracle said.

One’s voice attempted to be cajoling, nurturing in Ariadne’s own sweet voice. A contrast to One’s projected visage: a cold expression Rhea knew Ariadne was not capable of.

“Damn it, Ari.” Rhea was desperate. “Focus!”

Her touch wasn’t helping. She had to do something now.

Rhea lunged through the hologram. Ariadne cried out at seeing her friend move through her parent, her teacher, her tormentor. Rhea grabbed the Mors near the guard’s chair and aimed for the computers. Bang! Sparks flew. The whole system began to power down.

“Come on!” Rhea seized Ariadne again, and Ariadne’s legs finally moved.

“You know your place is by the Oracle,” the AI said, One’s voice distorting and deepening. “One helped build you, just as you helped build One.”

Rhea aimed the Mors at the wall panel by the exit of the hull and fired. The ship well and truly shut down this time. Rhea tried to pull the girl up, but she couldn’t move. Ariadne’s body was as tense and cold as metal.

“Ari?” Rhea dropped to her knees, putting her palms on either side of Ariadne’s face. “Ari, I need you to move.”

Ariadne’s emotions were so clear through Rhea’s touch: a whirl of anxiety and fear and a pitiful wish to please the Oracle, even now that One was gone.

“I can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Rhea insisted. “Let me help you. Let me try.”

Ariadne gave a small nod.

Rhea grasped Ariadne’s hand firmly. She used the dwindling vestiges of her abilities to dull Ariadne’s emotions and spur her into motion. Even that small amount made Rhea’s vision blur.

Just a little further. Stay awake.

They fled Eleuther’s storage hull, speeding past the broken screens where One had taunted them. Outside, Rhea could hear the chatter of soldiers, even through the thick metal hull of the ship. She readied herself to use what abilities she had left.

Rhea had to survive this. She had to get her friend out.

She had made Nyx a promise. She had made Ariadne a promise.

<Damocles has the weapon,> Rhea sent through the Pathos to the others as they exited the ship. She propelled Ariadne forward, pretending as if they had someplace to be in a hurry. <He has it and might not wait until the truce is over. Get Eris and get out of there.>

No response.

Through the massive windows of the docking bay, the palace was lit up like a jewel at the top of the sloping hill, surrounded by the emerald green hills. At any moment, so many people could die.

“I failed, Rhea,” Ariadne said from beside her. “I failed them all.”