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.
Trust me. There will still be plenty of pain. I can’t even begin to treat . . . all of this. Hime nodded, her expression grim as she pulled bandages tight across Caledonia’s breasts, flattening them to her body and stabilizing her torso. Besides, Pisces knows what she’s doing. The fleet is secured, and Sledge has established a perimeter around the city. There’s nothing for you to do but rest.
“Fine, fine, I’ll take it.” She took the small vial Hime offered, knocking it back in one swallow. It tasted both bitter and sweet. It was a truly wretched combination of flavors.
You need more rest than you can take, Hime signed sadly. She was always sad these days, and it pained Caledonia to watch the slow knife of grief carve shallow tracks across Hime’s heart. Just, take as much as you can.
Caledonia nodded as the girl drifted to the door. “I promise.”
But sleep was fleeting. Every time she slipped from consciousness, she jerked awake again with sweating palms and the lingering image of Tassos’s face in her mind. She felt like something unfamiliar was taking root in her lungs, sending tendrils to swirl in her belly and dive deep through her guts. Changing her from the inside out.
Giving up on sleep, Caledonia opened her window and leaned out, letting the cool air fill her lungs as she searched for patterns in the stars. It was an old trick to calm her mind, and it might have worked if she’d known as many patterns as Donnally. But she didn’t. The few she did know weren’t anywhere to be found, so she was stuck with making her own shapes. So far, she’d found a ship, another ship, a gun with a bullet shooting out of its barrel, and the shape of a man who looked exactly like Tassos.
It wasn’t helping.
A knock sounded quietly at her door. Not the urgent pounding of an emergency, but the gentle tap-tap-tap of concern.
“Come in,” she called without moving from her spot.
The door opened and closed softly behind her, only the barest whisper of movement.
“Caledonia.”
She turned at the sound of Oran’s voice. Too fast. Her ribs screamed at the movement, her head spun, and she gasped.
Concern brought Oran instantly to her side, but he stopped just short of touching her. His hands hovered at her elbows, unsure.
“Oran,” she said, voice thin as the pain slowly receded. “What are you— Is something wrong? Is it Donnally?”
His jaw clenched and his lips pulled into a frown at the reminder of the distance that had come between them. At the distance she had put there. “I came for you,” he said quietly.
“I’m fine. Really.” Caledonia grit her teeth and held her arms out wide. Her ribs whined in protest. She forced a smile.
“I don’t think you’re fine,” Oran said. His gaze was so steady, she felt she could