Now we see the lock on the door. At first, it’s unrecognizable to me: a solid, rectangular grid that encircles the door handle and connects to the rest of the wall.

A chill surges down my spine. Is this a different lock? Had they changed it? Did the Federation know we were coming tonight?

But I see a slim line alongside the lock, where a series of small knobs can slide into a pattern. This is where we insert the code that Talin gave us.

The first figure to approach us from inside is Adena. Her dark eyes glint like stone in the night, and despite all she’s been through, all the agony she endured in the arena, I can see the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. She doesn’t speak, of course, not with the guards farther down the hall—but she does lift her hands to sign to me.

“What took you so long?”

I scowl affectionately at her. “We got lost.”

Adena winks at me before turning her gaze to Jeran. The Shields nod at each other, an understanding born from a lifetime sworn to protecting each other blazing in their gazes. Jeran lifts his eyebrows slightly at her, and she shakes her head.

“I’m okay,” she signs to him.

Then Jeran meets Aramin’s gaze inside the cell. I expect to see Jeran’s fingers dance unconsciously to where the weapons are typically strapped at his belt, the gesture he makes whenever he’s thinking about Aramin. But he just stays frozen.

For once, Aramin’s expression is not steel. He looks almost hesitant, as if he’s not sure what to say or how to act. The Firstblade to the Strikers, at a loss for words.

Maybe it’s for the best, because there’s no time for greetings now. As they exchange a silent look, I kneel to the lock and start sliding the knobs carefully.

As I go, I think of my early days as a soldier. The number of prisoners I’d had to keep in their cells. I remember being on the warfront of Basea the day before we invaded Sur Kama, doing a round through a row of makeshift cages where we were keeping several captured Basean soldiers. One of them had been so young, a wide-eyed boy watching me through the bars. I’d stopped to look at him before Danna Wendrove nudged me away. Don’t touch them, he’d said to me. They’re dirty.

I’d listened to him. I’d stepped back from his cage and hurried away, my stomach roiling in shame.

Now I focus on inputting the code. On freeing them.

“Hurry,” Jeran signs to me.

My fingers slip on one of the knobs as I go. It resets a few of the others. I curse under my breath as I start over again.

Jeran glances down the hall, listening carefully for the sounds of the guards returning. Their laughs come from farther down the corridor, but they won’t stay away for long.

“You try it,” I sign to Jeran in irritation as the knobs slip again.