A long, tense silence settled between us. Phox wasn’t angry—I could tell that much. His expression had smoothed to something calm and intensely focused.
So why did it feel so … awkward?
“Head’s up,” Phox said suddenly, tipping his chin up in a gesture for me to look out the windshield.
Dead ahead, the all-too-familiar shape of a hovering robotic orb zoomed in close, its lens flashing as it focused on us. Ugh. Seriously? A spec-cam had followed us in? Or had it just stumbled upon us accidentally? Somehow, I doubted that. Maybe it had some way to track race participants, even down here.
I scowled at the camera and gave it the finger again. Maybe Faulbender would be watching. God, I hoped so. That dickwad. If he wanted me dead so badly, then he should just have the balls to come try to kill me himself. Instead, he was paying off glorified mercenaries and vigilantes to do the dirty work for him. And for what? A shot at a racing title? Disgusting.
We sailed on, navigating the dark passages for what seemed like an eternity. It wasn’t easy flying—not for Phox, anyway. The caverns sometimes became narrow, meaning he had to do some artful maneuvering to make sure we made it through. There were more than a few instances when I was sure we wouldn’t make it, but he always managed to squeak through, even if it meant knocking off more stalactites or scraping our hull on the floor or ceiling. Up, down, zigzagging, and sideways, we made our way through the deep, forgotten passages for hours.
Finally, Phox steered us into a section where the tunnel opened up into a broad chamber with a much higher ceiling studded with dripping white crystals like spines on a porcupine. It took my breath away—even before I noticed that the floor ended at an abrupt cliff that plummeted down into a seemingly endless dark abyss far below. Incredible. Just the sight of it made my stomach clench, flip, and flutter as Phox deployed the landing gear and set us down on a flat spot right at the edge.
“Let’s take a breather.” He sighed as he started powering down the ship. “I need some sleep. Betting you do, too, Miss Jumps-Out-of-the-Ship-All-the-Damn-Time.”
I grinned and leaned against the armrest, turning in my seat so I could gaze at him with my chin propped on my palm. “Admit it. You think I’m awesome.”
He gave a soft chuckle and shook his head, making his shaggy black-and-silver hair swish. “For a human, you’re … decent.”
“Decent? I just beat Sienne. I think that makes me a little better than decent.”
He rolled his head to the side, giving me an exaggerated stare with his lips pursed like he wasn’t impressed at all. “You stopped her chasing us, I’ll give you that. But don’t be so sure she’s out of the race.”
“I blew up her engine.”
“You blew up one of her two engines,” he countered. “Runner ships can still fly with one.”
“I dropped boulders on her head.”
“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t.”
“You’re like ants at a picnic, you know that?” I scowled, which only made him chuckle again as he stood and shuffled to the back of the ship.
I waited for him to get settled, stretching out on the floor of our ship with his hands behind his head, before I got up to follow. It couldn’t be comfortable, lying on the cold, hard floor like that. But there wasn’t much choice for a guy his size. Sitting down on the seat near him, I licked my lips and made a diligent effort to avoid eye contact. The taste of salt hit my tongue, but whether it was from the grit in the storm or my own sweat, I didn’t know. Probably both.
“You sure it’s okay if we both sleep? What if something bad happens?” I asked.
Phox puffed a deep breath that made his thick chest rise and fall slowly. “Then it happens. But I sort of doubt anyone can get to us down here.”
“What about the spec-cam? It managed to find us.”
He cracked open one of his big, peculiar eyes to flick me a half-hearted glare. “They’re programmed to follow runner craft signals, so it probably just found another entrance somewhere else trying to lock in on our location. There’s no one driving them and they have no coding for self-preservation. If they did, then they’d probably miss out on all that up-close-and-personal fight footage the fans like so much. They get shot down or blown to smithereens all the time.”
Right. Well, that did make sense.
“Just relax. It’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong, then you get the pleasure of telling me how wrong I was before we die.”
I smirked and eased down onto the seat, curling up on my side with my knees drawn close to my chest. Gazing down at him, my eyelids drooped as I let myself succumb to the exhaustion I’d been pushing down for, well, I’d lost track of how long it had been since I’d actually slept. A while, to say the least.
“Hey, Phox?”
He didn’t even crack an eye this time. “What?”
“If we do manage to live through this, what’ll you do? Where will you go?”
“Oh my god, would you just go to sleep already? I am not up for a heart-to-heart chat about—”
“Okay, okay, fine.” I sulked and crossed my arms around my middle. “I just … talk when I’m nervous.”
“No. You talk all the time,” he grumbled.
“Cause I’m nervous almost all the time.”
For a minute, maybe two, he didn’t say anything. Then Phox gave a defeated groan and rolled his head to the side to stare up at me. “Fine. Ask something else, though.
