“If we don’t hear an alarm.” She shifted her grip on the gun and glanced toward the door. “We have to leave.”
“Will you not suffer punishment for this action?”
Trust Ronan to ask the most essential questions. “I’ll worry about that later.”
Kord appeared in the doorway, breathing hard. “He’s out.”
“Let’s go.”
The three of them ran down the hall and took a smaller corridor to the side entrance. Once on the street, Cynara assumed a nonchalant demeanor and pocketed the gun. She led Kord and Ronan to the garage where the Council members often left their vehicles. Several cars were housed there, including Jesper’s. Not a driver was in sight.
The key to Jesper’s car was still in the ignition. Kord pushed Ronan into the passenger compartment. “I’ll see you at the ship,” he said. “I have one more task to complete.”
“Go,” she said, never doubting that Kord would be at the Thalassa in time for takeoff. “Be careful.” She turned the key in the ignition and the motor hummed to life. “Bless you, Uncle.”
No one appeared to stop them as she pulled the car out of the garage and into the street, slipping easily into the light traffic. It was good to feel in control again, even if this vehicle was confined to lowly earth.
“Do you know what happened?” she asked Ronan through the open partition.
“Kord brought a warning.”
“From my uncle. The Council was planning to subject you to a deep-probe. It might have permanently damaged your mind.”
“Then I owe you great thanks.”
Spoken as sincerely as any diplomat could wish. “Save the thanks. We still may not get off Dharma.”
“You will find a way.”
“Your confidence inspires me.” She clutched the wheel and turned onto Gate Street. Still no pursuit. “I take it that we’re on speaking terms again?”
“Are we not speaking now?”
She laughed through her teeth. “We’re going to be spending more time together, Ronan, so I hope we’ve reached an understanding. What I said before still obtains. I won’t see you destroyed because of blind suspicion, but neither will I risk the welfare of my people.”
He was quiet all the way to Second Gate. “You will take me to the Concordat.”
There wasn’t really any other choice. None of the other Nine Worlds had native telepaths who could handle Ronan if the worst should come to pass. Persephone’s laws wouldn’t allow the mental rape of even a convicted criminal, let alone a man who might—Poseidon, must—be innocent of any ulterior purpose.
“I’ll take you to Persephone,” she said.
“Will they accept you if Dharma does not?”
Oh, he knew how much she risked in helping him. “I don’t plan to abandon Dharma.”
“You will be challenged as First of the Pegasus.”
“I think what you mean by ‘challenge’ is not what the Council will have in mind,” she said. “I wish it were that simple.”
“If Janek challenges you, you would win.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The sense of camaraderie born on Bifrost had returned. She ached with the warmth of it, ached with the memory of last night and the miraculous, fleeting bond between two minds and hearts.
Losing the Pegasus was not the worst thing that could happen.
First Gate still stood open. Likely the alarm had been raised by now, but it hadn’t reached Low Town. Cynara couldn’t risk calling the shuttle, for there was a very real chance that the Council might intercept any communication. She accelerated past shacks and stubbled fields onto the highway toward the spaceport. Vehicles here were few and far between, but she and Ronan could still be stopped at the port.
Incredibly, the guard at the sentry post waved her through as soon as he recognized her. She could feel Ronan relaxing, well aware that he had been preparing for a fight.
“This is Va Jesper’s doing,” he remarked as Cynara sped across the field to the service area where the Thalassa was berthed. She swerved around a maintenance truck and set a straight course for the shuttle.
Dockhands who had been loading the hold under Cargomaster Basterra’s supervision turned to stare as Cynara pulled up fifty meters from the shuttle. Ronan was out of the car before it came to a stop.
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