Caledonia couldn’t find the energy to be irritated that Tassos had been planning to double-cross her. Her brother was here. She hadn’t even had time to consider how she was going to retrieve him from the megaship and now he was here. Her heart stuttered against her chest, relief and sorrow creating an impossible rhythm.

The line moved on, and for a second Donnally’s eyes strayed to hers. Her breath quickened and she fought against her traitorous instincts, which continued to demand that she rush forward and throw her arms around his neck. But it lasted for only a second. Without even a glimmer of recognition, Donnally looked away.

The ache in Caledonia’s chest sharpened as he disappeared inside the prison. There was no reason for him to be there. Tassos had been denying him Silt long enough to wean him from it. He wasn’t a prisoner here. But Caledonia couldn’t find the energy to go after him. Tomorrow. She would speak with him tomorrow.

Cepheus was the last to go. She entered the prison with a weary smile, her lips paler than they’d been only a few hours ago. By the time the doors were shut behind her, Caledonia had moved so far into her pain she was sure she’d gone numb. At least, that’s what she thought until Pisces guided her back to the wharf and to a room with a bed and probably a few other things she didn’t care about at the moment. But before she could collapse, Hime arrived and demanded she sit upright a while longer.

“Ow!” Caledonia cried as Hime pressed against her ribs.

Hime answered by continuing to work her fingers across Caledonia’s bruises while Caledonia sat on the edge of her bed in nothing but a thin pair of shorts. Now that she’d stopped moving, her head pounded like a stormy sea and every inch of her seemed to bear some sort of wound. She’d barely made it to her room before she vomited. Her body was exhausted, and every breath drilled small points of pain through her ribs.

“Just tell me they aren’t broken,” Caledonia said.

She knew they were broken. This pain was both familiar and so much worse than she remembered from past injuries.

One for certain, Hime signed, pointing to the darkest bruising on Caledonia’s rib cage. Several others are fractured, and you have a concussion. I can give you a draught for pain.

Every part of her wanted to say yes. “But without the pain, how else will I know I’m alive?” she teased.

Now I know you’re delirious.

“But I need to stay alert,” Caledonia protested, regaining the smallest edge of her composure.