As soon as the door opened, Rustam immediately admitted defeat, giving the playing with him Steel Grip a single cross. His partner tried to refuse, awkwardly shoving the coin back at him with her still-unaccustomed artificial fingers, but he wouldn’t listen. Easy come, easy go. Cards have no memory; he’d win even more from the guards later.

  Squaring her shoulders and banishing all signs of fatigue from her face, Ruda walked inside, smiling brightly at the children. An unusual helmet hung from the belt of her jagged armor, a sheath concealed the sharp spikes of her mace, and her fingers trembled periodically, betraying recent muscle strain. The knight’s face was decorated with medals of bluish-purple bruises and a missing incisor, whose hole she mechanically covered with her lip.

  Nevertheless, he liked the battered look of the crusader. It conveyed a newfound confidence, mingled with the promise of unconditional protection. Otherwise, she behaved as usual, beginning her rounds of her charges, calming the most frightened, and giving Rustam a nod of gratitude, which confused him.

  She had changed a lot, after all.

  They had been herded into this deep compartment a few hours ago, explained away as a routine precaution. Not believing this bullshit, Rustam surreptitiously placed his palm on the corner of the room, picked up the vibrations, and shared this knowledge with the others when Bahran brought one of the raiders out to “chat a little,” as he put it after his buddy playfully grabbed a fifteen-year-old girl by the butt. The raider returned rather rumpled and apologized nasally for the inappropriate behavior.

  From the vibrations, Decimus and Tsereg determined right away that the cruiser had been fired upon. Sylvie forbade telling this to the guys present. They divided up the length of the compartment, engaging the children in various games. Rustam suspected the older teenagers had figured it all out—not that hard to put two and two together, understanding why all the minors were placed in the most secure area, especially when Bahran and the guards constantly checked weapons instead of exchanging lewd jokes—but they said nothing.

  Overall, they spent their time productively. Sylvie attempted to explain fashion to those present but was right away drowned in a torrent of information on the subject from the more civilized girls from the Oathtakers’ lands. Grisha taught the youngest his favorite board game. Gosha and Decimus organized a physical competition for the Abnormals. Tsereg debated the advantages and disadvantages of solid-state ammunition with the hunters’ offspring. Unni propped one foot on a hospital bed and told the assembled crowd stories about the countries she’d seen, shamelessly embellishing every incident.

  Rustam was playing cards, a surefire way to bring strangers together. They hadn’t even noticed how they’d survived the terrifying stretch of the journey, collectively sighing with relief at the visit of Carde and Eloise.

  “Commanders.” Ruda bowed to the officers. “The magister is summoning you.”

  “So we have a deal?” Sylvie called after the hurrying Carde.

  “Yes, yes. Everything will be arranged. You don’t owe me anything,” he replied absently.

  “But... Master... Carde...” she faltered.

  “Ha. Consider it a gift!” the man laughed, throwing his cloak over his shoulder and walking outside.

  “What were you murmuring about?” “Rustam asked, limping toward Sylvie.

  His knees still ached, but he refused to lie in bed like an invalid any longer, determined to regain his former flexibility as soon as possible.

  “You don’t need to know about that,” the girl replied haughtily, turning up her nose. A cheerful glint danced in Sylvie’s eyes.

  “She must have fallen in love.” Rustam glanced sideways at Decimus.

  “Not an awful choice: rich, aristocratic, educated, and in a prestigious position. Only the age difference...” The Troll picked up the tease in a dispassionate voice.

  “Pigs!”

  The amused boys each received bonks, not even wincing.

  Rustam was relieved to discover that Sylvie no longer differentiated between them based on the idea of ??"weak or strong." Now she was getting to everyone, and Gosha often lazily swept her off her feet with his huge arm when he considered her assertiveness too rude.

  She fought back as fiercely as she received it, seamlessly integrating into the group and becoming the unofficial leader of all the young passengers on the cruiser, knowing exactly who to turn to when problems arose.

  He was a little envious of Sylvie’s memory, which never forgot a single name or title. Rustam himself had forgotten the names of half the new friends he had made during his recovery and secretly called them by nicknames he had invented.

  “As you can see, I’m all right,” came out of Eloise’s speaker with a stream of hiss.

  The commander resembled a metal skeleton, her limbs wrapped in wires and cords, unwittingly reminiscent of human muscles. Her human head sat in a black socket mounted on a movable, solid silver neck, connected to a slender torso. The woman’s hair had begun to lose its natural color, turning gray, and she frequently brought a bottle of water to her lips, wetting them.

  Eloise held her spear in one absurdly small hand, unable to even fully grasp the shaft. Weaponsmiths flitted around her, fitting parts of a more massive combat body onto the loose frame and welding them in place. Soon, Eloise clasped the five large fingers of her mechanical gauntlet around the weapon with a satisfied grunt, testing its dexterity.

  “But... I saw... I saw... the numbers added up,” Grisha said with relief, wiping away tears.

  “You’re not omniscient,” Eloise told him simply. “There are many people in the world capable of, to a certain extent, divining the course of the river of the future. But I don’t know a single one who can guarantee a 100% outcome. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be grateful for your advice when you’re older, but don’t rely entirely on your special ability.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  She spoke confidently, without adding emotion to her speech even as the technicians reduced the hissing of her speakers, and Rustam almost believed her assertive statements. He wasn’t sure what it was all about. Grisha and Eloise had met by chance while she was recovering from the battle at the gates of Rabor and Grisha was undergoing a medical examination. Afterward, his friend was very upset, flatly refusing to even admit the woman’s fault, declaring her the most responsible of all he knew. Such stubbornness from the usually submissive Grisha couldn’t help but arouse curiosity. Gosha, noticing their friend’s tears, even asked Rustam if he had been mean to the little one.

  Eloise’s appearance immediately after the battle intensified Rustam’s suspicions even further. Carde had responded to Sylvie’s request. So why was the second officer here too? The commander had come here specifically, clearly intending to convince Grisha... of what? What could have been going on between these two?

  “Is Jake coming?” Gosha asked matter-of-factly, pulling on his jumpsuit. “He promised me checkers.”

  “Commander Jake,” Decimus corrected him.

  “Call him whatever you want.” Gosha shrugged, the bone needles creaking as they intersected. “He told me to call him by his first name.”

  Ruda’s gaze changed. Rustam’s insides turned cold at a guess.

  “The commander is busy,” Ruda said.

  “You mean dead, correct?” Grisha asked. “Jake won’t be coming again. Devoured by an insatiable maw. What about Ney? Did the shadow get him too?”

  “Commander Jake fell fighting off a boarding attempt. No one bit him,” Ruda said confidently. “As for Ney... The sluggard is wandering around the cruiser with the soldiers instead of doing useful things. Nothing happened to him.”

  “It will,” Grisha declared stubbornly. “The two-headed dog will get us, breaking through any barriers. His paw will close on me, carrying me away to where I will scream and scream...”

  “He’ll have to go through me first,” Rustam, Gosha, Decimus, and Tsereg blurted out simultaneously.

  Unni approached the seated boy, placing her fingers on his temples and massaging them in circular motions. She nodded to the departing Eloise.

  “Grisha, you’re exhausted,” Unni cooed. “I was told that before my mother was born, there lived a similar oddball in our village. Everyone went to him for advice, bringing gifts. A perfect predictor of the profitability of trade deals. He was. He often got drunk, talked nonsense, and then tripped, breaking his neck.”

  “Well, that’s a hell of an inspiration,” Sylvie scowled. “Are you trying to give us nightmares?”

  “Wouldn’t that weirdo have predicted this outcome if he’d been sober?” Unni continued, sticking her tongue out at the girl. “Let’s not be so fatalistic, Grisha. You haven’t had enough sleep, and you’re nervous. Just don’t tell me that doesn’t affect the accuracy of your power. I know better. If I don’t sleep for a few days, my jaw starts to drag on the floor.”

  “That didn’t diminish your charm,” Gosha interjected. He bristled at Rustam’s surprised look. “What? Ney was telling me how to properly communicate with a lady.”

  “Share some tips?” Rustam whispered.

  Sylvie blushed.

  “You’re right,” Grisha sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve given incorrect predictions before. I guess I’m just deliberately looking for a bad outcome.”

  “The Shroud of Darkness is climbing up the mountain,” Ruda said cheerfully. “Maybe we’ll run into an Insectoid or, at worst, an altered bird, but there are definitely no two-headed dogs here.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Grisha asked.

  “Nothing to devour at heights,” Gosha replied. “Carnivorous creatures rarely hunt at high altitudes. At least, that’s how it was where I lived. See, a beast needs to feed. Just imagine. You went down, ate the caravanners, then headed back up and wasted those calories on the journey. That’s not counting the cracks where you could break a leg, the scratches, the wounds...”

  “Somehow you very immediately turned the conversation to the caravaneers,” Sylvie gulped.

  “No, well, he’s right. The fattest ones are the caravanners. If there is anyone worth eating, it’s us. Them.” Unni and Gosha exchanged high fives.

  “Okay.” Ruda pointed at the couple. “No cannibalizing the caravanners. Otherwise, no more chocolate bars.”

  “We were just making a point...” The Abnormals’ feigned embarrassment sparked a burst of laughter in their small gathering.

  Would you look at this? Rustam’s heart warmed. Gosha used to be distressed about his past. Now he deliberately recalled the most disgusting episodes, weaving them into stories for humor.

  “Regarding the chocolate...” he began, patting his knees. “Can I raid the kitchen? I’m tired of lying around; I want to get going.”

  “Go ahead.” To his surprise, Ruda readily tossed him a shared-access keycard, along with a remote control with a single button. “Press the button if you get lost. There’s no one in the kitchen bay, but we’ll be home in a couple of hours, and Butylin’s squad is checking the hallway. Just dump us all kind of…”

  “Delicious!” Tsereg demanded.

  “…food on the mobile cart and roll it here. Don’t forget to close the refrigerator, or the cook will whip you.”

  “Oh, he’ll get lost!” Sylvie snorted. “I’ll take him.”

  “I can get there myself…” Rustam said defiantly. Decimus’s gray elbow hit him in the ribs, and a switch flipped in his brain. “I mean, I’m too weak, my memory’s failing me, a guide would be very handy,” he rattled on.

  Ruda gave him a conspiratorial smile, and the teenagers left the compartment, discovering a pair of broken metal teeth near the door. A lowered partition blocked their usual route, and a nearby guard, who had formerly worked in the kitchen, directed them around, explaining that engineers were currently working in that section of the cruiser, repairing the damage caused by the breaches.

  The closest elevators were out of power while damaged power cables were being reconnected. Deciding not to trudge across the entire level to the opposite elevators, the duo opened the door to the stairwell.

  “Sylvie.” Rustam paused, considering how best to continue. “I like you. Would you mind talking after... after?”

  He didn’t specify. After what? Rustam had no home. No family left, no one to care for him. He could probably find work as a security guard. He was smart enough to handle a gun. But what could he offer Sylvie? What future could he offer her besides being a heavy burden hanging around her neck?

  She’s smart, agile, courageous, and sociable. A natural leader. She’ll probably get into the institute Ruda mentioned. The mere thought that he could be the reason her dreams were dashed brought a lump of bile to Rustam’s throat. He didn’t want that, desperately wondering where exactly he could apply himself to become a worthy man and finding no answer.

  Nevertheless, he asked. He was done being a coward.

  “Ha,” she sounded relieved. “I’m way ahead of you. Master... to hell with it. Carde will find a way for us to stay close. I offered to be his unpaid assistant...”

  “Sylvie, don’t even think about it!” Rustam exclaimed. “You won’t sell yourself into slavery for me!”

  He stopped on the landing, taking her by the warm, soft hands. The lamps reflected in the girl’s large eyes, creating the illusion of stars shining in her cheerful gaze.

  “Silly. You heard him. He’ll do it for free.” She gave him a half-hug, and he reciprocated. They continued down. “Let’s drop all these ‘shoulds, shouldn’ts’? We’re brats; maybe we won’t get anywhere. But I know I’ve never been to a café, so Rustam... Care to take me there?”

  “We’ll go,” he promised. They walked down another flight of stairs, and he held out his hand, stopping Sylvie and jerking his head up. Something was wrong. Then he realized. “The light.” It dimmed.

  “Must be a power outage, nothing serious, chicken.” Sylvie squeezed past him, swiping her card at the panel. The door opened, revealing a corridor lit only by the occasional flickering of lights. She took a step forward and suddenly jerked back, breathing heavily.

  Rustam was immediately in front of her, noticing the sticky substance trailing from the floor behind her boot. The light revealed red. Blood. He gritted his teeth, immediately pressing the alarm button. Blood with bits of splintered white bone and traces of torn muscle.

  The clang of a heavy object falling sounded near the entrance.