Chapter 16
Vic emerged from his workshop two weeks later, his face flushed with excitement. I was helping Tor inventory our supplies when he burst into the galley, waving a parchment.
"It's happened!" he shouted, eyeglasses askew and his flopping hair in clear distress. "Juno, your father—he's free!"
I dropped the inventory slate, my heart stopping then racing double-time. "What?"
Vic thrust the parchment into my hands. "Marcellus just sent word. The tribunal ruled in his favor on all counts. Your father was released from the Dredge this morning."
I scanned the message, hardly daring to believe it. The words blurred as tears filled my eyes. "He's really out? He's free?"
"Completely exonerated," Vic confirmed, beaming. "He'll be monitored for a while—standard procedure—but he's home with your mother now."
The relief crashed over me like a wave, leaving me light-headed. I'd been carrying the weight of my father's imprisonment for so long that its sudden absence made me dizzy. "I need to go to him—"
"Not yet," Vic cautioned, his expression sobering. "Gideon still has people watching your family's shop. Marcellus advises waiting until the heat dies down."
My joy dimmed slightly, but I refused to let it fade entirely. My father was free. That was what mattered.
"This calls for a damn celebration," Tor declared, clapping a massive hand on my shoulder.
Within an hour, the entire crew had assembled in the galley. Tor disappeared briefly into his quarters, returning with several unmarked bottles filled with clear liquid that looked innocent but smelled potent enough to strip paint.
"Black Kessel. My special reserve," he announced proudly, pouring generous measures into mismatched cups. "Made it myself."
I accepted a cup cautiously, eyeing the liquid with suspicion. "Never heard of it. What's in this exactly?"
Tor's smile was enigmatic. "Trade secret. Just drink it before you smell it too much."
I took a small sip and immediately regretted it as liquid fire seared down my throat. Coughing and sputtering, I glared at Tor through watering eyes. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"The second sip goes down easier," he promised, tipping back his own cup without so much as a flinch. Omri laughed from the corner table, also swallowing his in one gulp.
He was right, somewhat. The second sip burned less, and by the third, a pleasant warmth had begun spreading through my limbs.
Zoya appeared with a slender wooden instrument that resembled a flute but with more holes and an intricate pattern carved into its surface. She settled onto a crate and began to play, her fingers dancing over the holes.
"Sandaurian folk music," Knives explained, noticing my surprise. "Songs of hope."
Jask pulled Kora to her feet, guiding her into a dance that involved a lot of spinning and footwork I couldn't follow. She laughed as she stumbled, her cheeks flushed and her red hair wild.
Knives refilled my cup despite my weak protests. "It's disgustingly sweet isn't it?"
I watched them twirl around the limited space, narrowly avoiding collisions with the table and walls. Kora's joy was infectious, and I found myself smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
Even Cypher seemed affected. He leaned against the doorframe, the ever-present tension in his shoulders noticeably diminished. When our eyes met across the room, he raised his cup in a silent toast. I returned the gesture, warmth that had nothing to do with Tor's kessel drink flooding through me.
"I challenge you, Juno Farren," Tor announced, settling onto the bench beside me. He produced a small leather pouch from his pocket and emptied its contents onto the table—a dozen glass marbles in various colors and sizes.
"What's this?" I asked as he arranged them in a pattern that made no sense to me.
"Knuckler," he replied. "Old terra game. The object is to move your marbles to trap mine." He demonstrated, rolling one marble with surprising precision to knock another out of the pattern.
It looked simple enough. It wasn't.
My first attempt sent marbles scattering in all directions, several rolling off the table entirely. Tor retrieved them patiently, setting the game up again. My second try was no better.
"You're cheating," I said after my fifth consecutive loss. "You're using terra magic to control the glass."
Tor's laughter rumbled deep in his chest. "Don't need magic to beat a beginner."
"Prove it. Play with your hands behind your back."
To my surprise, he did exactly that, and still won.
"Told you," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Been playing since I was a boy."
The celebration continued well into the night. Zoya's music grew livelier as more Black Kessel was consumed. Jask taught simple dance steps to anyone willing to learn, which eventually included everyone except Cypher, who steadfastly refused despite Kora's persistent cajoling.
I found myself sitting beside Vic, watching the impromptu dance lesson with amusement.
"Thank you," I said, leaning against his shoulder. "For everything. For helping with my father's case."
He smiled, running a hand over his floppy hair. "You're crew now, Juno. We take care of our own."
Crew. The thought made something in my chest feel oddly warm. Or maybe it was just the drink.
I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. Cold gray sunlight streamed through the small viewport, painfully bright against my sensitive eyes. I groaned, rolling over to find Kora's bunk already empty.
I dressed quickly, splashing cold water on my face from the basin before heading to the galley in search of food and, more importantly, water. The ship seemed unusually quiet, most of the crew likely still sleeping off the effects of Tor's brew.
Instead of the empty galley I expected, I found Jask and Cypher hunched over a large parchment spread across the table. They both looked up as I entered, Jask offering a quick nod while Cypher's eyes lingered, assessing me from head to toe.
"You look terrible," Jask said cheerfully, pushing a mug of something steaming toward me. "Drink this. Zoya's special hangover cure."
I eyed the murky liquid suspiciously. "Is it going to make me vomit? Because I'd rather just suffer."
"Only if you think about what's in it," he replied with a wink.
I took a cautious sip. It tasted of ginger and something more bitter, but not entirely unpleasant. "What are you two doing? Planning another scouting mission?"
"More than that," Cypher said, gesturing for me to join them. "Come look, scavenger."
I moved closer, peering at what I now recognized as a detailed map of the surrounding area. It extended far beyond the ruined port where we were moored, showing mountain ranges to the north, vast plains to the east, and the frozen ocean stretching westward.
Small notations covered the parchment in Cypher's scrawled handwriting—soil composition, elevation changes, potential water sources. A large circle had been drawn around an area about twenty miles north of our position.
"What's this?" I asked, pointing to the circle.
"The ideal location for our settlement. Protected by mountains on three sides, with natural runoff channels for when we introduce water. The soil there is remarkably intact, better than anywhere else we've found."
I looked up, surprised. "You're serious about settling here? In this dead realm?"
"Dead for now," Jask corrected. "But with the Genesis Engine, we could revive it." Make it a new Nytheris."
"This realm has everything we need in theory. It's remote enough to hide from the Assembly and even Gideon, large enough to support millions, and the portal is stable, which means reliable access to the Gallery for trade."
I studied the map more carefully. They'd clearly covered miles in every direction, cataloging resources and potential hazards with meticulous care. They'd been planning this for years, so I suppose it shouldn't have surprised me.
"It's perfect," Cypher said softly. "Better than I'd hoped to find. With the right application of the Genesis Engine, we could have flowing water within months, vegetation within a year."
My gaze flickered towards the galley viewport, skeptically eyeing the small white sun. "It's too cold to sustain life here."
Jask and Cyper glanced at each other before turning back to me. "That's another reason we need the Engine. The power it wields has the potential to restart the star, or maybe even create a new one in its place."
I shook my head, eyes wide. "That's insanity…"
"There's just one problem," Jask added, his expression sobering. "We still have to locate the Engine."
The excitement in Cypher's eyes dimmed slightly. "This is where you come in, scavenger."
My stomach dropped as I realized what he was asking. "You want me to connect to the First Dark again."
"You're the only one who can," he said, not unkindly. "The Engine exists somewhere in that space between realms. Your connection to the First Dark is our only hope of finding it."
I set down the mug, suddenly not thirsty. The memory of my last encounter with the First Dark—the cold, the darkness, the whispering voices—made my skin crawl.
"I don't know how to control it," I said. "Last time, it reached for me. I didn't reach for it."
"But you got us out," Cypher noted. "You brought us back to the ship through sheer will. That proves you can direct the connection when necessary."
I wanted to argue, to remind him how terrifying that experience had been, but the hope in his eyes stopped me. To be honest, this is why I stayed with them, or why I planned to before we were run out of the Prime Realm. It was the right thing to do, even if it terrified me.
"I'll try," I said finally, running a hand through my hair. "But I can't promise anything."
Relief washed across Cypher's face. "That's all I ask."
We decided to begin immediately. Jask gathered supplies—blankets, water, medical provisions in case something went wrong—while Cypher and I walked to the shore of the frozen ocean. The ice stretched before us, a vast crystalline expanse that reflected the pale sunlight like a mirror.