I stare from one to the other of them.

“Er…”

“Guri! How dare you?”

The woman leaps to her feet. Her feathered robe flares wide and I realize it’s not a robe at all but an enormous pair of blue-gray wings.

“Sorry, Mistress,” says the guard, shaking his head and backing away with all four of his arms raised. The lower two have hands, now empty. The upper two terminate in enormous claws, held tightly shut as if that’ll make them any less threatening. Only just now I realize that his armor is organic—an articulated carapace that may or may not be growing directly from his skin. “The pay was too good, and this life just ain’t for me. I’m goin’ to culinary school.”

“What is happening?” Shrieks Reiiko, scarlet eyes wide with rage. “Guri, apprehend this intruder!”

“Found the bride,” I think into the group channel between Kirron, Tiberia and I. “Pretty sure she and her guard are members of the Twelve, too. Get out of there and back to the ship.” Then I ping the Arowana to let them know I’ve found her. The tracking chip and Lamprey will do the rest.

The hybrid bride’s face goes suddenly, furiously red.

“When the Arch Duke hears of this, he’ll—“

“Who d’ya think paid me to stand aside? Who d’ya think paid her? He don’t want his son marryin’ no hybrid, y’must know that.”

All the blood drains from Reiiko’s face.

“Fine,” she huffs as I stand there gape-jawed and seemingly dumb. “I’ll handle this myself.” Then she begins to glow. It starts with her eyes, quickly spreading until her hair and skin radiate a brilliant blue light.

“Whoa now,” I hedge, taking a step back and dragging the cat man with me. My other unbroken tail comes up and forward, but there’s no way it can do anything about a Sai blast. “We’re here to rescue you. You don’t have to marry that asshole anymore. We’re getting you out.”

The lady’s eyes practically bug out of her head.

“Get me out? Are you mad?” She beats her wings and the air in the room stirs, suddenly a few degrees cooler. The blue aura begins to rise, taking on a form like an enormous heron as it pulls away from her body.

“Release the servant and leave this place,” says the hybrid woman, and her voice is suddenly so much more than it was a moment before, amplified and echoed by an airy howling as if she’s summoned the winds themselves to dance with her words. A cold power wraps around my body, clenches hold of my heart. My tails retract, freeing the cat hybrid as I stumble back toward the lift. The door is halfway closed when the effect weakens and I get a grip on myself.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Diving forward, I shove my way back into the room before I can get locked out. The sweating cat man pushes past me, taking my place. Hopefully he’s been paid off too, or else I’ve just set him free to sound the alarm. The lift door slides shut behind me as a meaty, crunching squelch sounds from the far end of the room. The animated mural glitches, wavers, and goes out, revealing the green panorama of the city beyond. Past the translucent biojelly, the Arowana’s lamprey writhes as it drives itself further through the wall—the same kind of vessel the cat-masks had to have used to punch a hole into the house where I met Kirron.

No shield flares up to stop it, no alarm sounds, no anti-neural pulse jolts the Lamprey out of the sky. All things we were prepared for. Their absence is proof that Guriko’s claim is true. The Arch Duke must be the one behind this. The blue heron’s ghostly wings beat at the air as its summoner waivers, looking from the hatch of the Lamprey as it punches into the room to me and back again. Then the hatch slides open to release about a third of the Arowana’s crew. Reiiko makes up her mind, positioning the summoning between herself and the newcomers just in time to block a round of green stunbolts.

“Flee,” she commands, the heron’s beak moving in sync with her lips. A harsh wind blows them back and a few faces drain of color, the one with puffer fish spikes looking as though he might piss himself—yet none turn away. Am I really that weak? But no, now that I look closer, I see something glinting from inside their ears. Sono-blockers. They knew what to expect, but they didn’t bother to tell us. Assholes.

One of the Arowana crewmen—a moray eel guy—shoots forward with a pair of hybercuffs. The Sai summoning shrieks and the bride exclaims, bringing up a wing to knock him away as she dances out of reach. I throw myself into the action, my two working metal tails whipping outward to grasp her wings and pull them back, holding her in place.

Eel-man pounces on the opening, shoving forward to latch the cuffs around Reiiko’s wrists and pressing the activation pad. But of course, nothing happens. Must be a Twelve thing. I don’t understand why she doesn’t just use her Sai heron to attack us, but I’m damned grateful for it. Between myself and the rest of the away team, we manage to wrestle a screaming Reiiko into the Lamprey, where a man with tentacles on his face repurposes safety harnesses as bondage to contain the worst of her flailing. The hatch is just about to close when I catch a glimpse of the crab man back in the grand chamber, watching our departure with joy in his mismatched eyes.

“Wait,” I shout back at the others, leaning through the hatch and back into the room.

“You’re to leave with us, Guriko,” I improvise. “It’ll be a cleaner break than waiting around here and dealing with the Duke when he sees what’s happened. You can get to any culinary school you want from the Celestial Bridge.”

The crab man hesitates, his artificial left eye slower than the natural blue one. An orb of lime-green jade set into a gunmetal-colored fixture, the eye rolls in its socket as he regards me.

“Right,” he says after a moment, lumbering over. I squeeze back through into the main cabin to make way for him as he hauls himself in behind me. “Not too keen on hitchin’ the same ride as her, but I take yer point. I’ll have my freedom soon enough.”

“Of course,” I say, forcing a smile as the crew raises their eyebrows at the unexpected addition. Poor guy. Tiberia better be grateful.

“My duke will have your heads for th—“ snarls Reiiko, her words cut off as the octopus man finishes his work and gags her.

“Why didn’t she have our heads?” I wonder aloud. “Doesn’t seem like it was her gentle nature holding her back.”

“Oath of Pacifism,” explains the crab man, snorting a bit on the last word as he shoots a look across the cabin at the wild-eyed woman. The already cold air chills still further, ice crystals forming on my clothes and in my hair. “And thank the mighty Leviathan, too. Mean-spirited terror of a wench if ever there were one.”

Reiiko has a lot to say to that, but I can’t make out what any of it is through the wad of biojell stuffed in her mouth.

The rest of us strap ourselves into seats, the vessel wrenches free of the wall…and we’re done.

Operation Save the Nice Lady from the Evil Rich Guy is a success.

Only I’m not so sure the lady is all that nice, I’m pretty certain she didn’t need any saving, and she definitely didn’t want it.

Which means I’ve just participated in a kidnapping.

Oh fucking well, I guess. It’s not the worst thing I’ve done today.

~*~

To avoid anyone tracking the Lamprey—and therefore, our crime—back to the Arowana, we have to abandon it partway to the shipyard. There isn’t even time to sell it off to someone. It grates at me, because they used some of my loot to buy the thing. What chafes even more is having to drag my ass back to the ship at all when I’m already exactly where I wanted to be—a place that isn’t Jade Palace, a place where hybrids are more-or-less free. My own goal’s already achieved. And yet, there’s more than just the tracker chip in its code-locked collar keeping me from slipping away into the emerald mists.

Maybe it’s my programming, maybe it’s my curiosity, maybe it’s a lot of things. But whatever it is, I have to get back to the others. I have to find out what this whole Twelve Warriors thing is all about, and I have to see it through…for now, at least. And there’s a practical side to it too. It’s important I find out exactly what’s going on and why if I’m going to keep myself free, after all. And I will keep myself free. At all costs.

When we get back to the Arowana its sleek silver-scaled sides are already heaving, heart rate picking up as it readies for departure.

The hatch opens on our approach, and the rest of us stand aside for Guriko to go ahead of us, a still-struggling Reiiko slung over his shoulder. I’m feeling guiltier about the whole thing by the moment, but I remind myself that if we hadn’t been successful, the Arch Duke probably would have bitten the bullet and just had her assassinated. Gods only knows it’d have been easier…unless he’s taken an oath of his own.

The crew squeezes in around us, funneling Guri, the bride and I into the passenger’s cabin. The door seals abruptly shut behind us.

“Well done Miss Six,” says Mr. Brisby, backing against the wall to make room for the crab man to get past him. Kirron’s at the far end over near the feng locker, jaw working as he chews.

Perched on her bunk, Tiberia looks briefly up from the small tablet in her hand. Her face glows in the pastel colors flickering from its screen.

“Yes, the easy part is done,” she says, thumb brushing the tablet as she scrolls through something apparently much more interesting than us.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, raising my voice so it can be heard over Reiiko’s muffled threats. When she says nothing, I glare over at Brisby. “What’s she mean by that?”

“Something just delightful, I’m sure,” answers Kirron, swallowing.

“Wasn’t talking to you, Bambi,” I shoot back, not sparing him another glance.

The butler looks uncomfortable but doesn’t answer as the ship rumbles into take off and Guri trundles back over to the door.

“Where are you going?” I call after him.

“Somewhere with less people. It’s damned crowded in here ‘n I can only take so much.”

But when he presses a hand to the panel, the door doesn’t so much as quiver.

That’s weird. I know we’re not supposed to leave the passenger cabin, but I assumed we still could if we needed to.

“Don’t bother,” says Tiberia, eyes still riveted to her screen. “They won’t let us out until we get there.”

“What d’ya mean?” The guard’s ruddy skin goes pale, his real eye watering at the corners as he starts shaking his head, turning from us to pry at the door with both hands and claws. “I can’t stay’n here! Can’t do it!”

At the same time, Kirron lets fly a series of rapid-fire questions.

“What do you mean they won’t let us out? Why not? What’s going on? How do you know?”

Tiberia flicks at something on her tablet. “They won’t let us out because now they’ve got the bride, they’re set for life. They don’t intend to return to the Cradle, so they don’t have to abide by our tenants anymore.” Flick flick. “They’re taking us all to Serpentis Station, where they plan to sell us to a flesh dealer for extra funds to start their luxurious new lives.” Flick. “I know because this ship was grown in the Cradle. It’s full of mycelium.”

For a moment the room goes totally quiet aside from Reiiko’s ongoing tirade.

Kirron is the first to break it. “So that means you—“

“Knew the entire fucking time that they planned to do this?” I break in, hands curling into fists so tight that my nails cut into my palms. “And didn’t fucking tell us?”

Tiberia shrugs but still doesn’t look up. “You wouldn’t have understood. This is the right path for us. You’ll see.”

My blood boils as the sudden urge to strangle her overwhelms me. I will my tails to unsheath, but they refuse. Damn this stupid fucking programming. I raise my hands instead and take a step closer. There’s a dark blur of movement, and in the next heartbeat, Mr. Brisby stands between us. For a few wild seconds, I’m at war inside—wanting nothing more than to tear into him, yet forcing myself to hold back.

Tiberia sighs, and I hear the tablet fall into her lap.

“Listen. You’ve seen how we Twelve come together. There are five of us gathered in one day already.”

My hands drop slowly. With no safe or helpful outlet for my fury, I focus instead on my breathing as I listen—the air hissing in and out between my ground-together teeth.

“All of us have been following the glowing paths, even though only I can see them,” Tiberia goes on. “Now I have to make sure we keep going the right way, and this is that way. You know it, at your core. All of you. I know you do.”

As she speaks, Reiko’s gagged ravings go on and Guriko pounds pitifully at the door with one massive claw, sobbing.

“Those two don’t know fuck-all about any of this yet, actually” I shoot back, jerking a thumb first to the heron woman and then to her erstwhile guardian. “And when it comes to this Twelve Warriors shit, I really don’t think I do either. If we’re warriors, who are we supposed to be fighting? And—tell me if I’m wrong—but why are we aligned with the Zodiac Signs, when hybrids aren’t even allowed to have Signs?”

A little pink hand appears on Brisby’s arm, and he steps to the side. Tiberia’s eyes are wider and glassier than usual as she regards me. I can see my own reflection in them.

“So far, we have Fox, Stag, Crab, Crane, and Rabbit,” I press. “I’m willing to bet the rest of the Twelve will line up with the last seven celestial animals, won’t they?”

Tiberia nods. “Yes, that is the pattern I’ve seen. But I don’t have the answers to the other questions. You know everything I know about the Twelve now. We are warriors. We must and will come together. We must gather the Artifacts in order to free someone or something. That is all.”

Over near the door, Guri’s sobbing comes to a fitful hault.

“I’m not gettin’ paid, am I? I’m not ever gonna go to culinary school.”

I look from Tiberia to Mr. Brisby and Kirron, but they just blink back at me. I go over to the crab man and place a hand to his armored shoulder.

“I don’t know how much of that you overheard,” I say. “But what you need to know is that we’ve all been tricked and royally fucked over. Well, almost all of us,” I add, throwing a scowl over my shoulder at Tiberia. “We’re in this together, though, and we’re going to get out of it together.” I squeeze his shoulder, though it’s like trying to squeeze a rock. “And when it’s all done and over with, we’ll get you into your chef school.”

Kirron snorts. Tiberia goes back to whatever she was doing on her tablet. I give the big guy’s shoulder a pat and sit down next to him.

“So, you like to cook?” I prompt, as desperate to distract myself as I am weirdly driven to comfort this meat-hulk of a man. “What’s your specialty?”

As he snuffles his way through a list of his favorite stews and the recipe for saffron cream cupcakes, I steel my resolve.

I’ll kill the whole damn crew before I let them so much as try to sell us, I promise myself. By the stars of the Celestial Fox, I fucking swear it.