Takeover

Sweat drenched Cay's entire body. He had no idea what was going on, who these people were, but they could not possibly have good intentions.

The soldiers fanned out across the deck, all pointing their weapons at Cay. The man with the scepter stepped through them and approached Cay with long, loping strides.

As he came nearer, Cay made out his fancy uniform, the patch covering his left eye. The Infernal Legion? Not likely; while most of the soldiers seemed to be demons, this man clearly wasn't one.

No time to think. Cay had to get out of there. He hauled himself to one knee, only for the soldiers to lift their weapons all at once.

Then blue light flashed, harsh and blinding, and the Star flared hotter beneath Cay's hands. The man stopped only a couple of yards from him and slammed his scepter into the deck.

Squinting, Cay tried to focus on the blue glow at the tip of the scepter, but it was so bright his eyes watered. Even so, he already had a horribly clear idea of what it must be.

"So this is what I was sensing," the man said quietly, gaze landing on the Star in Cay's hands. "Such immense Levia…."

'Bang.' Cay's heart shot into his throat when the hatch in front of him slammed open.

Instantly the soldiers whirled toward it. Cay opened his mouth, but no words came out before a black-haired youth climbed out of the hatch.

For a heartbeat, Prince Darian took in the scene with huge, disbelieving eyes. Then she leaped to her feet, rapier drawn.

Metal sang through the air as the soldiers aimed their blades at her. But that bought just enough time for another person to jump out after her, azure cape billowing.

Sir Zenith landed in front of Darian, sword and shield ready. The crystals on his armor glowed in the darkness, but nowhere as bright as the light from the scepter.

"My liege," he shouted. "What's happening?"

"That's what I'd like to know too." Clenching her jaw, Darian raised her rapier. "Who the hell are you? What do you want with my craft?"

The man with the scepter paid her no heed. Instead, he stared at Zenith in naked astonishment. "Is that...is that a homunculus?"

"I am Sir Zenith of Miria. I will not permit you to harm my liege!" Sword flashing, Zenith lunged.

"Wait," Darian shouted, but her voice vanished beneath a ferocious clash of metal. One of the soldiers had leaped forward, grinding her slender blade against Zenith's. A demon with icy blue hair.

The demon wrenched her blade away with a shower of sparks, knocking Zenith off-balance. As he stumbled, she swerved in front of the man with the scepter.

"Are you from the Infernal Legion?" Darian demanded, high and thin.

"I'm Ulrich Ziegler," the man said offhandedly, though his gaze never left Zenith's face. The greed shining in his eye made Cay feel sick. "It appears this craft will be worth my while after all. A homunculus...and this crystal as well."

As he lifted his scepter, the blood drained from Darian's face. "Wait, that's – "

"Hand it over," Ulrich Ziegler drawled, waving his free hand at Cay, "and no one will need to get hurt."

Just like that, Darian whipped toward Cay. Her shocked expression sliced his heart wide open – and the pain only sharpened when her gaze landed on the Star in his hands.

"Cay…?" Darian whispered. "What...why do you have that?"

Cay couldn't speak. As the Star glowed, shame twisted his insides into knots. He had no excuses, no defense. Even while knowing it was craven and self-serving, he'd stolen the Star anyway.

And now – now – this was all his fault. Because his attempt to use the Star's power must have led Ulrich Ziegler to the Blue Sky, this man who possessed one of its shards.

Ulrich snapped his fingers, the sound piercing the sudden silence. "Hand it over, I said."

Darian faced him again, gripping her rapier tighter. "What do you want with the Star of Miriel?"

"The Star of Miriel? Is that what it's called?" Ulrich's gaze flicked from the Star to the shard in his scepter.

"You don't even know what it is?"

"I know enough. This...this has given the Zieglers our power over the centuries." As he spoke, Ulrich caressed the tip of his scepter. "So there is more to it – other pieces. Isn't it natural I should own them?"

"The Zieglers...power…." Darian's brows knitted, then her eyes widened. "It can't be – are you a wizard?"

A wizard? Indeed, as Cay swept his gaze around the soldiers, he realized with a prickle of dread that many of them bore steel-gray contract marks on their brows or collarbones.

Had he chased Darian from Earth? Impossible, since she didn't know him. And judging by the size of his army, not to mention his ownership of a skycraft, he must have been on Tielos for a long time.

Cay had never considered the possibility, but it made perfect sense. The few wizards who did make it to Tielos wouldn't get to join a Fortress immediately. They still had to gain strength down on the wasteland.

Not that any of this mattered. He had to find some way out of this situation, and fast.

"You don't know about the Zieglers?" Ulrich said. "Well, you'll learn soon enough. Once you become mine…."

"Never!" Zenith charged, but once again the demon woman intercepted him. This time several other soldiers joined her. Though Zenith struggled valiantly, he couldn't break through all of them.

As Darian tensed, clearly ready to join the fight, Cay felt sick. Even if she and Zenith tried their best, they were completely outnumbered.

'Because – because of me. I led them to this, my crew and the liege I swore to serve. Out of my own petty selfishness.'

Then...didn't that mean there was only one possible solution? Only one way to ensure their survival? Blood thundering in his ears, Cay looked down at the Star of Miriel.

It was still glowing, but not as bright as before, and the searing heat had softened into a gentle warmth. Not that it gave him any consolation. He squeezed it tight, trying to drawn on all his courage.

Yet even if he handed it over, that hardly meant their troubles would end. Ulrich had made his intention more than clear – he wanted the entire craft, not just the Star. And Cay knew Darian would never accept trading the Star for her life.

His shame burned hotter. His liege, Sir Zenith, all of them possessed ten times the bravery he'd ever had.

In the end, had he grown at all from the little boy who always clung to Eulyn?

With a sickening crash, the soldiers slammed Sir Zenith to the deck. Though he struggled, he couldn't throw off their combined weight. Only a few moments later, another soldier pinned down Darian by the neck and kicked her rapier out of her hand.

That taken care of, Ulrich began striding toward Cay. Shivering, Cay pressed his back to the railing. He was trapped – nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. As if it would help, he pressed the Star tight to his chest. Its Levia throbbed faster than his heartbeat, just as panicked.

A sound somewhere to the right. A creak of metal.

Cay's eyes darted that direction just in time to see another hatch open. This time, a man whose black curls spilled loose and untamed down his back climbed out.

Cay's heart squeezed into a tight fist. He could only watch as Amaro lurched to his feet. Slow and clumsy, with none of his usual languid grace. Judging by his missing bandanna and shirt, he must've just woken from sleep.

A sleep Cay had put him in. Having brewed the potion itself, Cay knew its effects couldn't possibly have worn off yet.

The soldiers whirled toward Amaro, but he'd already unslung the crossbow from his back and aimed it at Ulrich. "Get off my ship, you bastards!"

Ulrich's hand flashed. A bang split apart the night, followed by a horrid burning stench. Amaro hit the deck with a dull thud, blood tracing dark trails down his side.

Sighing, Ulrich lowered his pistol. Smoke still billowed from the barrel.

All thought fled Cay's mind. He could only see Amaro, lying still and silent.