bringing Layela into her circle of confidence. Then she shook her head and increased her pace again. The closeness between them withered with each step.

She suddenly wondered why Josmere’s powers had not affected Ardin in the flower shop, and if that might be the reason she was so sullen. The Berganda had seemed as surprised as Ardin. She began to worry that something might be wrong with Josmere, aside from the usual stubbornness.

Layela had often heard stories of the powers of the ethereal races, how those powers had seemed to fade and wither over the last two decades. Of all the old ethereal races, the Berganda was one of the quickest to wither and, although Josmere never spoke of it, Layela knew it shadowed her friend’s thoughts. Once her powers began to fade, it might mean she too was withering.

Maybe a test was required to set the Berganda’s mind, and her own, at ease. It wasn’t like they could do much else on the ship, at least not without some sort of plan. Besides, Layela thought as she shifted and winced, a few hours of rest to let my wounds heal would be beneficial.

“Josmere,” Layela said, the Berganda slowing her pace again. “I keep having a strong, dark vision at night. Will you show it to me?”

Yoma was also gifted with visions, but hers struck when she was awake. Awkward and dangerous, but at least she could remember them. Layela’s visions only came at night, and until the day Yoma had accidentally met Josmere in a house they both intended to rob, Layela didn’t even think she shared the gift. She had doubted her own powers, despite jerking awake every night, fear smothering her thoughts and sweat clutching her body. The shouts of things-to-be would become whispers and vanish with the last threads of her sleep.

But the Bergandas were gifted telepaths. Theirs was a power that could destroy a mind, or simply unlock it, much like the Kilitas could. Josmere had unlocked Layela’s mind on several occasions, lifting the burden of heavy, unseen visions from the girl’s shoulders.

If Josmere used her powers now, she might find peace in the proof that her ability had not vanished. And Layela would see the vision that the Kilita had tried to rip from her mind. It involved Yoma, she knew, and she remembered the warm feeling on her hands. Like a thick liquid coating them, a liquid she was certain was blood. She thought it might be Yoma’s. She needed to know what the vision would show her, as badly — she guessed — as Josmere needed to know if her powers still existed.

She was surprised when Josmere grimaced and sat down on the other bed, facing her. “I can’t, Layl.”

“Well, I know your powers didn’t work on Ardin, but maybe that was a fluke. Try it on me and see what happens.”

Josmere shifted and looked uncomfortable, but her green eyes met Layela’s. “I promised Yoma I wouldn’t unlock that vision for you.”

Layela jerked back a bit, Josmere’s words like a slap. She had thought the Berganda was just as loyal to her as to her sister. She had felt comforted by her presence. Yoma had made her promise not to tell! But that also meant… “Yoma left because of a vision she had.”

She didn’t ask, she simply stated. Josmere didn’t bother replying.

Before either one of them could continue the conversation, a knock came at the door. Seconds later it swung open, the Malavant siblings in its entryway. Avienne carried the promised food, which looked as old as the ship itself.

“It’s not the best — in fact, it’s much closer to being the worst — but it’s still food,” Avienne said as she handed them the meal packs. The freeze-dried foods were packaged in aluminium for preservation. Usually about as tasty as aluminium, too.

“We just came to tell you we’re headed for Lockor,” Ardin said.

“Where in the forty bloody Solarian suns is that?” Layela asked. Their interruption had come at a bad time, and the sooner they left, the sooner she could throttle some information out of her green friend. She forced a deep breath into her lungs and examined the opened door latch out of the corner of her eye. It wouldn’t hurt to be ready to leave.

“Not in that jurisdiction, actually,” Ardin said. He was trying to sound casual, but tension laced his words. “It’s almost a galaxy away but, thankfully, is linked by tunnels from three other independently-governed worlds. It should only take us three days to get there, if the traffic is as thin as our navigator expects it to be.”

He finished lightly, as though this was a simple matter.

“Why are you taking us there?” Josmere asked softly, a dangerous edge to her voice. If the Malavants heard it, they chose to ignore it. Layela knew that would make Josmere even angrier.

“We were contracted to bring Layela there safely,” Ardin said, his eyes meeting Layela’s. “I didn’t get the impression that our contact would harm you, Layela. And we can stick around for a bit, just in case.”

Layela held his eyes and he did not shy away. She found some comfort in knowing he would stay, but how far could she trust him and his sister? They were keeping secrets from her, too, like Josmere and Yoma.

At least three days would give her time to heal if a battle waited ahead, but escaping before reaching the planet seemed to be the best option. Why would anyone want her taken there, anyway? And were they after her sister too? Or her, she supposed, since Ardin had revealed at least that much. She felt a chill run up her back. Could he be part of her locked vision? “Who is this man, and why does he want me there?”

Before he could answer, Avienne spoke. “We don’t know, and we don’t know. What we do know is that he pays well, and that’s good enough for now.”

“Good enough for kidnapping?” Layela spat back, rising from her bed.

Avienne’s eyebrow shot up,

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