Page 95 of The Sunlit Man

That wasn’t her emotion. It was the Cinder King’s.Herown emotions were still aflame. A fire that urged her to find another enemy, to keep swinging this magnificent machete that killed without wounding. To never stop moving, never stop attacking. Never. Stop.

But there was nobody else to kill, and she held herself back—witheffort—from entering the cab of her ship and seeking a confrontation with the person piloting it. Instead, as theDawnchaserswept close, she vaulted over the span between the two ships and grabbed hold of the railing.

Moments later, she pushed into the cab, where the woman Rebeke was at the controls. Elegy clutched her magical weapon. But she didnotneed to use it. The man, the killer, had explained. She could choose her moments. She could make them all the sweeter for having held back.

Rebeke turned—then smiled at her. A genuine smile, it seemed. She wasgladto see Elegy. Granted, she’d acted that way before—but following the energizing thrill of the killing, knowing that in the back of her mind she’d been contemplating attacking Rebeke… It was such an incongruous thing to see an inviting smile.

She wants me to be here with her,Elegy thought.What is wrong with her?

It was disarming. Intriguing. Even…inspiring?

“Elegy,” Rebeke said, cocking her head. “Are you well?”

“I…feel different.”

“You’re remembering,” Rebeke said, grabbing her hand. “It’s going to happen. You’ll remember everything soon.”

“Are you not,” Elegy said, “supposed to be piloting?”

“Right!” Rebeke said, spinning toward her seat. She did something with the radio, and the killer’s voice came on, speaking from one of the gunships.

“All right,” he said. “Everyone be ready to swing down into the space I make for us.”

“They’re entrenched there,” Confidence replied. “How are you going to make space for us? They’ll shoot us if we land.”

“You people…” the killer said, his voice…grumpy? That didn’t seem an appropriate word for a man of his ferocity, so perhaps she did not understand emotions as well as she thought. “You spend your lives flying. How can you be so ignorant of the power of air superiority? I guess if you never go to war, and rarely stay in one place long… Well, just watch.”

Elegy leaned forward and watched through the windshield as one of the gunships broke out of their formation. It swung around, then dipped, so its large anti-ship guns were pointed at an angle toward the ground. Then it swooped past the Cinder King’s position, firing.

Turned out, being on the ground—and therefore immobile—when someoneelsehad a ship with that kind of firepower was exciting. The type of excitement that most people didn’t like. The type that involved ships exploding, people screaming and jumping out of the way. The killer was able to stay out of range and drop his shots with gravity—and while he could come in at full speed, they had to just sit there.

In moments, the Cinder King and his forces were scattered. Elegy nodded. It was an effective way to kill, but far too distant and unengaging for her taste. She’d have enjoyed being among those being shot at, perhaps. So much energy and alarm there.

Wait. No. That might get her killed. She was supposed to want to avoid that. After all, who would make certain Rebeke smiled if Elegy died?

A conundrum.

“That was certainly impressive,” Confidence said over the radio. “But I offer this warning: if we land there, won’ttheyhave your ‘air superiority’ over us?”

“Yup,” the killer said. “Which is why I suggest we be quick aboutthis next part. Everyone land and be ready to run for shelter. This is what we’ve been waiting for. It’s time to open that door.”

While everyone else did as he asked, Rebeke swooped in and—using a screen on the ship that told her where to look—activated the dirt movers on theDawnchaser. Elegy left her to it, scrambling out onto the deck and jumping the twenty or so feet to the soft ground.

By the time the others had landed and gathered, Rebeke had uncovered something. A large metallic disc set into the ground, only about two feet under the ashen lava soil. Rebeke landed her ship and joined the group huddled around the disc.

The killer stopped at the edge of it, and Zeal joined him, handing up the smaller disc they’d all talked about as being some sort of key. The killer took this, looked it over, then tossed it back to Zeal before hopping down the several feet to land on the surface of the silvery thing.

There, he leaned forward and spoke in a loud voice. “Under the Refugee and Lost Expatriate Bill of Silverlight Codes of Interplanetary Conduct, I formally request asylum in this facility. Please respond.”

Silence. Why wasn’t he using the key? Elegy understood all those words, but the context eluded her. Instead she looked to the sky, where the Cinder King’s forces—looking even more intimidating—were gathering around them.

Suddenly a cylindrical pole, maybe four feet tall, shot up from the metal below, emerging near the killer. A voice spoke from it, heavily accented, but in their language. “Wait. Are you Rosharan?”

“I am,” the killer said. “I seek asylum under the—”

“Yes, yes. Fine. You can negotiate.”

“These will need protection while we discuss,” he said, gesturing to the others.

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