Page 24 of Hunting the Warlord's Daughter

“I go by Wren, by the way.” Her tone was markedly milder. Was the little sprite sorry that she’d assumed the worst of him? However awkward the disclosure about his teenage feelings, it seemed to have put her at ease.

“That’s what you are to call me for now on,” she said. “Awrenkka was the warlord’s daughter. Her only value was for the purposes of breeding.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “My destiny will lead me on a different path. A dangerous quest. Even more so now with a bounty on my head. Where are we going next, Aral? What’s your plan?”

Ah. His plan. Quite possibly his favorite word in the universe. “How does treasure hunting sound? My plan is to set course for Ara Ana and see you safely there. Then I’ll do whatever your destiny requires me to do. Hopefully it’s keeping the treasure out of the hands of evildoers. People have died fighting over it. I would rather not see a single death more.”

Blinking, she pushed on her glasses. “You know of it, then, the Goddess treasure. Am I the only one who didn’t?”

“For most of my life, I thought it was a fable. The warlord was obsessed with finding it. My father was too. I didn’t want to take the chance that it was real and allow something so powerful to fall into the Empire’s hands. They would have used it to win the war. Billions more would have suffered and died. I sent my brother, Bolivarr, on a mission to see if there was any truth to the rumors—and he discovered ancient religious writings that spoke of a treasure and the key, a Sacred Key, the only soul alive able to unlock it. I don’t know how, but he discovered that person was you.”

“I’m dangerous company. Being around me may get you killed.”

“Is that the best you’ve got? I should have died by now. This is my bonus round. I intend to be alive for every last microsecond—I earned it. You’re under my protection now. We’ll see this mission to the end.”

“Trying to convince him otherwise will be a waste of breath,” Kaz said.

“But that bounty,” Wren said. “Fifty million queens. It’s ten times the budget of an average planet. I did the math.”

Kaz lifted her brows. “You did math during your stay in lovely Zorabeta?”

“It kept my mind occupied,” Wren replied. “I ended up having to convert queens to Imperial credits to appreciate just how badly the Triad wants me. They want mea lot.”

“You committed no crime,” he assured her. “They have no grounds to punish you.”

“To them, being the firstborn of the most hated man in history is a crime.”

He wrapped his hands around the armrests and stared straight ahead. Wren was right. If the Triad ever were to arrest her, it would be to punish her for her ancestry in a sham proceeding. Their trials had become spectacles. The executions were made public. They claimed it was necessary for closure. The first step inhealing. If innocents like Wren were swept up in the fervor, the campaign targeting suspected Drakken war criminals was in danger of turning into the very genocide it sought to avenge. Down what dark hole was the galaxy heading? “Rest assured, the Triad is well behind the power curve, figuring out who you are and where you are,” he said, glancing at the storage nook where he’d stashed his PCD. “I have my contacts in their government. They owe me.”Zeeowed him. Aye, despite the man’s anxiousness to see Awrenkka apprehended, and the queen breathing down his neck about it. “I assure you, I’ll remind them of it if they ever push the issue of your arrest.”

“Pardoning the warlord’s daughter is a pretty big favor to ask,” Wren said.

“I won their blasted war for them.” If that wasn’t enough, he also now had the Sacred Key in his possession. Once upon a time, he’d envisioned handing over control of the treasure to the Triad—technically its rightful owner—knowing he’d fulfilled his vow to Bolivarr and his part in assuring a lasting peace. Would he now need the treasure’s riches to bargain for Wren’s life? It was the one flaw in his carefully crafted plan—and he didn’t like it.

Again, the comm-panel chimed. “Port Control issued another delay.” Kaz frowned at the comm display. “How hard is it to manage a space port? There’s some serious ineptitude going on if they can’t juggle a few blasted crate haulers with regular departures—” She froze. “Well now. They just issued a camp-wide security alert. Code yellow. No one can depart.”

He closed his hand around the flight control stick. “We will.”

“They may disagree.”

“Let them. Initiate launch sequence.”

“All systems are ready.” Kaz tapped her touchscreen, bringing up the launch page. “Are you ready, Wren?”

“I’ve been ready to get out of this wretched place since the day I arrived,” Wren replied.

Aral allowed himself a smile. “It seems we’re all in agreement, then.”

The thrusters roared, rocking the ship and lifting them off the ground.

“Resilience,” the port controller yelled over their comm. “Cut your power.”

The craft shuddered, turning within the confines of its berth at the docks.

“I repeat—Resilience, you are not cleared for departure!”

Wren circled her hand over her chest, her lips moving silently—like a priestess praying for divine intervention. Aral welcomed help from any quadrant. He briefed Kaz. “We should wind our way outbound through the arrival traffic to the jump node. It’ll deter them from chasing after us, should they decide to.”

Kaz nodded. “Agreed. I highly doubt they have anyone to send, but if they do, they won’t follow us through that.”

Or so he hoped. They cleared the docks, the vast expanse of the dusty tent city spread out below, and Aral aimed the ship’s nose at the sky.

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