Page 38 of When the Universe Sings

The blade was surprisingly light. After inspecting the straps, I attached them to the thigh of my exposed leg. He grunted and, when I looked up, his eyes were fixed resolutely to the ceiling. “You’ll need to switch to the other before you land.”

I leaned down to switch it to my other side. “Thank you.”

Greabes blinked, his throat bobbing with a swallow. “Uh, yeah. Well. Don’t lose it or Hudzon will skin you alive.”

Over his shoulder, Hudzon gave a nod, packing their own weapons deep into different pockets of their uniform.

“We’ll be close,” Kal offered while I made my way toward the ramp. “Ash is already on board and prepping the engines.”

Nerves crawled up my stomach, wrapping around my throat until I struggled to swallow. This would be different than our other encounters—Asher and I would have to pretend our dynamic was not merely the antagonistic awkwardness we hadon board the ship. I gave Kal a short bob of my head while he squeezed my shoulder comfortingly.

The jumper was quiet, save for the revving of the hidra-boosters coming online. I directed my hovering case over to one of the walls, strapping it in so it wouldn’t go flying, and made my way into the cockpit.

Asher’s hair was tied back into a knot on the back of his head, the top half of his mask sitting on the control panel in front of him. At the sound of my approach, he turned, silver eyes widening. I could have sworn they turned molten as they dragged from the tips of my boots, up the curve of my exposed knee and thigh, over my chest, before lingering on the lower half of my face.

Was this truly his reaction or was he merely preparing for the charade we had to play?

All at once the heat was gone, replaced by an impassive nod before he turned back to the controls and gestured at the seat beside his. I hesitated a moment before I took it, fastening myself in and throwing the fabric of my skirt over my exposed leg.

“You look…nice.”

I almost laughed, teeth digging into my lower lip as I fixed my attention resolutely on the display before us. Part of me wanted to question why this was the first thing he chose to say. Another wanted to point out that the look he’d given me had hinted he felt stronger than me merelylooking nice.And another, strangely smaller, part wanted to see how deep I could shove the quara blade into his chest before my hand hit bone.

Instead, I settled on: “My mistress has fine taste.”

He gave a grunt I assumed was agreement while the clatter of footsteps echoed through the hull. When a green light flashed on the deck from the cargo hold, Asher flicked the switch to release the brakes, easing us out of the hangar and into open space.

It was quiet as he maneuvered us toward the jump. Hudzon had explained at dinner last night we would be taking a more circuitous route there. We would wipe our logs once we reached quadrant two so it appeared we had left theKuxatanain the quadrant next to Louxuria instead of where it really was: nestled behind one of the planet’s sister moons ready to make a quick escape.

What would have been an hour’s journey to the surface would now take close to five. Silence stretched, punctuated only by fuel alerts and our first quadrant jump, a riot of blue and white light washing over us. We skipped the port that waited beside the entry point of the quadrant—one where many of the Class One planets resided, including Silomen and Kiv Q’lum.

It took us more than an hour to make it through all the security checkpoints before he slowed our ship to a crawl in a clear part of space before the next jump point. He leaned down, pulled out a compartment between us and handed me a clear mask with a thick tube connected to the panel. “I need to shut down the ship for a few minutes to clear the log. The environmental system should hold, but in case it doesn’t…”

If we started losing air, I would be able to breathe. My throat clicked with a swallow. It was one thing for us to lose air, but what if the seals failed? I cleared my throat, keeping my attention fixed to the tubing sliding over my lap rather than the expanse of open space before us.

“The others…” I murmured, turning the mask over in my hands.

“The others have the same below, don’t worry.” Odd how soft his voice was. Asher lifted a hand toward the mask in my lap before making a fist and moving it to the controls. He pressed the small comms button. “Engines offline in three…two…one…disengage.”

All at once everything was quiet—a quiet I’d never heard before. My ears rang and I took a deep breath, checking to see if the air was thinning before slipping the mask over my nose and mouth. Asher relaxed his hands off the controls, pulled his gloves tighter over his fingers and leaned back in the chair.

“Do you hear that?” he asked, an awed sort of reverence in his tone.

My brows pulled together. “I don’t hear anything.”

He frowned, turning to face me, those silver eyes roving over the black fabric obscuring my face. “Take off your hood.”

After a brief pause, I tugged it back, but it didn’t change anything. It was the same deafening silence. But he leaned a little closer, scanning my face as if he might find some answer there before he settled back in his seat.

“My people commune with the universe in a way many do not,” he began softly, his attention fixed on me. “We believe that the universe guides us on the path we walk. She is the hand that nurtures and feeds, just as she is the one that punishes and destroys.”

My pulse thrummed. This was new to me—in everything I’d read of the Quinzyr once I’d arrived on theKuxatana, I hadn’t learned of this reverence for the universe. Only their ancient customs and fighting techniques were documented, all else was kept a mystery. But there was something in the corners of Asher’s eyes and the softness of his brow, as if he was looking for some understanding he’d never had before.

I wasn’t sure why he thought I would be the one to give it to him.

“So the universe speaks to you,” I said after an awkward beat.

Asher shook his head, a lock of hair falling into his face before he tucked it behind his ear. “No…she sings.”