“What did you wish to talk about, if not your new dress?” Baru asked. He’d deposited the tray of food he’d been tasked to bring me and stood holding his tail in one hand, a habit he had when something concerned him.
“I want to thank the Raas for my gift.” I gestured to Furb as he scuttled across the glossy floor.
Baru did not look convinced that the ball of fur was actually a gift. “The Raas gave you that as a gift?”
“It’s a Gerwyn,” I told him, as if I knew anything but the name of the creature.
“And you wish to do something to thank Raas Vassim for bringing you this…”
“Furb,” I said, scooping him up and stroking one hand down his head. “I’ve named him Furb. And yes, I want to bake something for the Raas as a thank you.”
I didn’t say that I also wanted to make something for the Raas because I felt guilty that I couldn’t help him. More accurately, I wouldn’t help him. Sweet breads wouldn’t make up for that, but it was the only way I could think of to show the Vandar some kindness that didn’t include me giving up my entire life.
I hadn’t been able to think of much else since I’d learned of his torment, but I also hadn’t been able to reconcile myself to the idea of life as a Vandar mate. Not only did I barely know him, but he wasn’t even close to the husband I’d always imagined for myself, or the peaceful family life I’d craved. I hated knowing I had the power to help him and wouldn’t, but the sacrifice was too much. Not when my life had already been filled with sacrifice.
Baru glanced at the domes of food on the low table. “You don’t find the food satisfactory?”
“It’s fine, but I love to bake. You could say that it’s my passion. I want to bake something for the Raas—one of my specialties.” I put my wiggling pet back on the floor. “Do you think you could arrange for me to use the kitchens?”
Now his slightly concerned expression became alarmed. “You wish to use the Vandar ovens?” He shook his head and looked down, wringing the furry tip of his tail. “I don’t know about that. The cook doesn’t like visitors in his kitchen.”
I wondered if the Vandar cook was as intimidating as the rest of the warriors—or more. “Just take me to the kitchens, and I’ll talk to him. I promise you won’t get in trouble.” I grinned at him. “And I’ll let you taste everything I make.”
His scowl softened. “I don’t know.”
“If he says no, I promise I won’t ask again.”
Baru released a loud breath and his tail. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you about the cook.”
I clapped my hands and bent to retrieve Furb.
“No Gerwyn.” Baru said. “Unless you want him to end up a stew.”
I gulped and straightened. “You’re kidding, right?”
The boy shrugged. “Vandar cooks have been known for getting creative when voyages run long.”
That sounded ominous. I gave Furb a pat on the head as he scurried by my feet and followed Baru from the Raas’ quarters. I hadn’t been out of the suite since we’d returned from Qualynn, and I’d been a bit dazed then, but the warbird hummed with an energy it hadn’t before.
“What’s going on?” I asked as a group of raiders rushed by us, their thundering boots making the metal walkway tremble.
“Nothing out if the ordinary. This is what’s it usually like when we’re raiding. The Raas has been intercepting lots of imperial cargo ships, so the raiding missions have been steady. Just like the Vandar like it.”
Booming voices echoed through the shadows of the ship, and I peered over the side of a spiraling staircase to the cavernous depths below. In a small way, the Vandar warbird reminded me of the cave dwellings on my home planet, the mountain path curving up from the ground with compartments shooting off from it. Of course, this ship was much larger, and while our planet was brightly lit by two suns, the Vandar preferred to be bathed in darkness.
A raider leapt down the entire length of the stairs, landing at the bottom, his kilt flying up around him. Another yelled something and barked out a laugh, also leaping down and landing with a boom that rattled my teeth.
“Another imperial ship has been sighted.” Baru gripped the railings of the stairs. “A mission is leaving from the hangar bay.”
“Will the Raas go on this mission?”
“Maybe yes, maybe no. He doesn’t have to go on all of them, and some Raas’ don’t go on any, but our Raas likes to join his raiders in battle.”
More bare-chested warriors barreled past us, most barely glancing at me. They were too excited about their mission to pay much notice to a female and a Neebix boy, even if we were anomalies on the ship.
“This way.” Baru pulled me by the arm down a corridor that was not crowded with battle-hungry warriors.
We went down a wide set of stairs and through a hallway that looked like a tunnel. Then we were entering a space that wasn’t nearly as dimly lit as the rest of the ship. The kitchen, like the rest of the ship, was mostly metal, but it was shiny and gleaming. And where the cavernous warbird was generally cool and drafty, this space billowed with heat.
“Qu vadris?”
Baru twitched a bit at the sharp voice, turning to the approaching Vandar.
“No problem,” the boy said. “But the lady wished to speak to you.”
The Vandar cook strode toward us, and he didn’t appear pleased. Like all Vandar, he was huge and broad. But this alien’s face was lined, and he was not bare chested. He wore a kilt, but it was made from a rough, brown fabric, and over that he wore a tunic that was
