Alyss stayed as close to Saxa as possible. She had been a little overwhelmed when the woman, in her usual blunt way, had ordered her to come along into the city to buy supplies. If she had thought it through, she would have chosen a plain cloak—something that would help her blend into the crowd a bit more. She could feel eyes on her everywhere, and she wouldn’t be the first Scion to be robbed in Koperhaven.

It had happened to Leopold just last week. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied Saxa’s grim expression. Leopold had mentioned a blonde woman. Had it been her? It wasn’t unlikely—they probably pulled that trick often. And Saxa certainly looked like the type who would strike before anyone could lay a hand on her. Still, asking outright seemed unwise. If it wasn’t her, Saxa might take it as an insult. Her short temper was obvious enough already, emphasized by her brusque movements. Even her stride was clipped and forceful.

Saxa stopped at a vegetable stall. Most of it looked wilted or under-ripe. Clearly there were no greenhouses here to push crops along.

“We need food for a week,” Saxa said. “You’re our client, so you’re paying.”

Ah. That was why she’d been dragged along.

With the credit on her wealth meter, Alyss could easily feed six people for a year. Spending it wasn’t the problem. What gave her pause was the thought that her parents could trace her transactions and track her down. The ship would soon be somewhere else, true—but still, she hated leaving a trail.

Just before leaving, she had left a note on her pillow. In it, she explained that she feared for the Golden Heart’s survival and felt called to act, since no one else seemed willing. She hadn’t shared details. Her bond with Aravin wasn’t close enough for anyone to immediately connect her absence with him, but her overprotective parents might still try to reel her back by watching her credit statements.

“Is that a problem?” Saxa’s ice-blue eyes bored into hers, brows raised in a look that was as much a threat as a question.

“The cost isn’t a problem. It’s just… my parents could find out where I am.”

Saxa shrugged. “By the time they notice, we’ll be back on the ship. Lux’s cloaking shield works fine.”

Alyss wasn’t entirely reassured, but she nodded. Even if her parents did track her, they couldn’t exactly force her to return. She turned back to the produce, picking up a sack of potatoes, some zucchini, and a cluster of tomatoes. There were canned beans and lentils as well.

She had never cooked before. She hadn’t even seen her parents cook. “Um… Do you think this will do? I…” She bit the inside of her cheek. It was hard admitting she didn’t know the first thing about preparing meals. Especially to Saxa, who had already made it clear she looked down on Scions. A strange reversal, since Alyss was used to Scions being the ones sneering at the working class. Not that Saxa or Fantoom really belonged to that group. They seemed to exist in a class of their own, with their own rules. Like taking Mart and Aravin into their crew.

She felt a pang of guilt at the memory. She hadn’t protested. Maybe because Aravin himself had given in so easily. And Fantoom had hardly seemed open to negotiation anyway.

She shook the thought off and realized she hadn’t heard Saxa’s response. Confused, she glanced at her again, but the woman’s narrowed eyes were sweeping the crowd.

Then Saxa shoved her, hard enough that Alyss nearly toppled into the produce. “Hurry up. Buy.”

The urgency in her voice brooked no argument. Alyss asked for two sacks of potatoes and pointed out some more vegetables. She linked her wealth meter with the seller’s, watching her credit tick down slightly. Not much. Maybe things were cheaper here than in Tranendal, since people had less to spend.

A sudden tug on her arm made her look up in irritation.

“We need to go.” Saxa slung two sacks of potatoes over her shoulder while Alyss gathered the rest into her bag.

With sharp vigilance, Saxa pushed through the crowd. At first they went the way they’d come, but after a while she veered off in a different direction.

Alyss followed close behind. “What’s going on? Are you running from someone?”

Saxa glanced back, her face a hard mask. “I don’t only have friends here,” she muttered, drawing a long knife. “Here—take this. Follow the flow of the crowd and turn left at the end of the market. Keep going straight and you’ll reach the ship’s grounds.”

Dazed, Alyss accepted the weapon. “But…”

“With that knife, no one will dare rob you. I’ll fight better if I don’t have to worry about you. I’ll see you back on board.”

And with that, she slipped into an alley.

Alyss took a deep breath. She scanned the crowd, searching for pursuers. Among all those dusty faces, none stood out. “She’ll be fine,” she muttered to herself. Saxa didn’t carry half a dozen blades for nothing. She was probably Fantoom’s bodyguard, or something like it.

Keeping the knife low, Alyss let the crowd carry her along, ignoring the stalls. She shouldn’t have been in any danger, but her heart hammered in her throat, and she had to fight the urge to keep glancing over her shoulder. That would only draw attention.

Just let yourself get swept along until the street opens up. Then head back to the ship. Simple.

It was slow going. People seemed to step in front of her on purpose, shoulders and elbows jostling her. If anyone noticed she was armed, they gave no sign.

She paused at a stall selling mechanical animals, curiosity catching her despite herself. Maybe her mother’s engineered bees were here, or some other—

A sharp sting jabbed her neck, like an insect bite. She slapped at it and caught a hand. Pressing her fingers to the sore spot, she spun around. Something cold traced up her throat and toward her temple.

Her eyelids grew too heavy to lift, and she collapsed to the ground.