Dust

which makes it hard to gnaw, so I'm trying to scrape you to death, and in the meantime wasting power so you can see where you're going. Why do you think we're going this way?'

'Direct route,' Rien said, promptly.

'And cannibals,' Gavin said. 'Socially irresponsible, but there you have it. This is the best way around their levels, and as far as I know there's oxygen and gravity the whole way.'

'I could do with a little less gravity,' Rien said.

Perceval laughed again, feeling better. At least she wasn't the only one whining.

This time, Rien tried to kick her.

By the time Gavin popped open a hatch with a clever twist of his beak and led them blinking out of the stuffy, musty access tube, both Perceval and Rien had come to the conclusion that it was better to save their breath. They clambered into a small compartment gratefully, and Perceval spent the next several minutes attempting to un-kink her spine. Gritting her teeth, she unfolded Pinion and allowed it a slow stretch, which did more for her abused shoulder muscles than all the twisting she'd done before.

There was no justice.

'Where to now?' Rien asked, while Perceval checked her display for the next twist in the map Mallory had uploaded.

'Twenty-minute lunch break. Praise Zakkiel, Angel of Electricity,' Gavin said, and plugged himself into the wall.

Rien wasn't certain if she was grateful or disappointed that Mallory had not packed them any of the orchard fruit. She still had the plum, however, tucked inside the vest Mallory had given her, and she slid her fingers into the concealed pocket and touched its body-warmed surface. After the peach, she wasn't sure she'd taste it before it rotted, whatever Mallory said about only that one tree growing the dead.

The plum comforted her; she imagined she could smell it on her skin, like Mallory. She pulled her hand from her pocket and accepted the bread, soy cheese, and onion jam Perceval offered.

While they ate, and Gavin recharged, Rien studied the maps in her head. It seemed like where they were going wasn't far—some kilometers, if they could take the gangways instead of crawling through warrens. 'We could be there tonight,' she said.

Perceval looked at her in surprise, and spoke through a mouthful of bread. 'How do you know?'

'Look at the map,' Rien said. 'I think there used to be a side corridor ...'

'There's nothing on the map,' Perceval said, and then turned completely around, not just her head. 'How would you know where a side corridor used to be, Rien?'

But Rien had pressed one hand to the side of her head, feeling the hair escape between her fingers. 'Ng knew,' she said. Then Perceval was staring at her, and for all she could tell Gavin might have been, too, except he never opened his eyes.

She set the bread carefully on the decking beside her and buried her face between her knees. She covered her mouth with her hands, but couldn't stop hyperventilating, and couldn't even begin to express why.

Perceval put a hand on her shoulder. 'Rien, what's wrong?'

He just wanted to die, Rien wanted to say. He just wanted to die and now he's in me, and Mallory won't let him die. That could happen to anyone.

Anyone? Or just anyone Exalt? Maybe it was the symbiont that did it.

She chewed on a mouthful of snot, stuffed the side of her fist into her mouth, and folded tighter. Stop it, ordered her lingering rational urges. She wasn't going to let anyone make her cry. Not Mallory, and not some dead Engineer. She bit her hand and forced control. 'Orphans dream of being secret princesses,' she said.

Perceval must not have heard her, because she made one of those indistinct encouraging noises that people make, and massaged Rien's shoulders. After a moment, Rien managed to lift her head and repeat herself: 'Orphans. Dream of being secret princesses.'

Perceval's thumbs made firm circles in Rien's muscles. 'And so?' she said. 'You are.'

A peculiar emotion swept over Rien. She was furious— not specifically with Perceval, but Perceval got caught in the edge of it. But Rien did not want Perceval to stop touching her.

It seemed unfair to ask to be held while you yelled at someone, so Rien swallowed it down. And said instead, 'Oh, yeah, a princess with a belly full of bugs and a sister out of nowhere and a dead man in her head.' She sniffled and hugged her knees, not crying. Gavin seemed not to have moved at all since the drama started; he might have been a statue of a basilisk. Rien didn't look at him.

She said, 'I never had these problems before I met you.'

That made Perceval laugh, and hand her the discarded snack.

'Eat,' Perceval said. 'Don't waste food. You'll need it eventually.'

And Rien supposed that was right. If Perceval could eat while being fed in chains, Rien could eat now. She put the bread in her mouth, bit down, and chewed. The onions were pungent and sweet and soft; the cheese sharp, but tasty. It made her sniffle again. 'Perceval,' she said, when she had swallowed the mouthful, 'why did you challenge Ariane?'

'Because she needed to be challenged,' Perceval answered. Rien thought she didn't notice that Pinion flexed when she spoke, a gesture halfway between a falcon mantling its prey, and a cringe. 'We met—I was on errantry. She was behaving villainously. I thought I was stronger than she. What do you mean you have a dead man in your head?'

'Mallory gave me a peach,' Rien answered. She chewed more bread to buy time, but had to wash it down with a mouthful of water. 'It had an Engineer's memories in it.'

Perceval's face lit up. 'Which Engineer? You said Ng?'

Rien nodded.

'Hero Ng.' There was reverence in Perceval's voice. It startled Rien. 'You have his memories?'

'I don't know. Some. I remember him dying'— Perceval flinched in sympathy—'and I remember that there should be a side corridor here'—Rien sketched a map quickly in skin-oil on the floor—'that's not on our map. Are there cannibals there?'

'I don't know,' Gavin said, flicking himself loose from the wall plug with a flourish. 'It's not in my memory banks either. Shall we try it and see if they eat us, then?'

Once they got the door open—easy, after they found it beneath the overgrowth; the keypad code hadn't been changed since Ng's day—they were greeted by a stench like tannin and ammonia. 'Space.' Perceval pinched her nose shut. 'I can see why it's not on the map.'

'At least we have boots now,' Rien said, flexing her toes in the shoes Mallory had given them. Something fluttered inside the corridor, a rustling like the nighttime gnawing of thousands of mice, and there were sounds, squeaks so high she felt rather than heard them: a bone-conduction vibration.

'Bats,' Gavin said. With heavy wingbeats, he flapped into the air, and wobbled toward Rien.

'Hey!' She ducked aside, but his great dry feet clutched her shoulder. She expected the grip and stab of talons, but they scarcely pricked, and then he was balancing on her shoulder as lightly as on a branch, his tail slipped once around her neck, heavy and leathery and warm. And far more pleasant than she would have expected.

'I'm not dragging my tail through that.' Primly, with a flip of his long, crossed primary feathers. 'You wanted to go this way. We're going this way. And you can carry me.'

'Oh, whatever.' But Rien didn't push him off her shoulder. 'It's dark in there.'

'I know,' Gavin said. 'You're going to expect me to light your way again, aren't you?'

'Well,' Rien said, 'if I could see in the dark, I wouldn't.'

Perceval, a step behind, cleared her throat. 'By now you should be able to.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'The dark. You should be able to see in it. Not total dark, of course, but—'

'Oh,' Rien said. 'Of course. The symbiont.'

'Sorry,' Perceval said, her voice all small and almost