Sea of Stars(26)

 My knees feel weak. I shake my head in confusion. “Why would you hurt him?” I ask Rutledge. “He’d never betray Rafe. He loves this house.”

 “It would seem that he needs more motivation to tell us about you,” comes the soldier’s reply.

 I raise my chin. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. There’s no need to involve him.”

 “Oh, I know you will,” he agrees, “but we won’t be questioning you now.”

 “Defense Minister Telek wants to be present for it,” I state.

 His smile evaporates. “How did you know?” he asks. His eyes narrow in suspicion.

 “I’m psychic,” I say with derision.

 His eyes darken in anger. “Minister Telek can’t be here now. He’s having part of his intestines removed. Did you know that as well? They’re imaging his replacement parts now. They won’t be ready for a few rotations.”

 “We can’t wait a few rotations! We have to speak now!”

 “He has holes in his esophagus now,” the soldier says drily.

 “Minister Telek killed Defense Minister Vallen so that he could assume his post on Skye Council. Please let me speak to the council,” I beg.

 Rutledge appears unimpressed with my story. He shakes his head. “You only get to talk to us. We’re aware of your priestess ability to influence your adversaries.”

 “My ability to do what?” I ask after I close my gaping mouth.

 “We have proof of your trait,” he counters.

 “Oh! You’ve proof?” I scoff with rising eyebrows. “What’s your proof?”

 He walks across the metal grate catwalk to the adjacent rows of stacked honeycomb-like cells that go up as far as I can see. Hundreds of catwalks like the one that he’s standing on service the levels above. He touches a control panel on the wall, illuminating several of the cells in front of me. Inside one, Wayra stands watching my encounter with these soldiers. He, like Trey, has been interrogated, as the bruises and scrapes on his face and bare chest attest. Next to Wayra’s cell is Jax’s cell. Above him in individual cells are all my Cavar bodyguards from the palace: Drex, Hollis, Gibon, Dylan, and Fenton. Their cells are all clumped together.

 I put both my hands flat against the invisible barrier in front of me, smearing it with my blood. “Let them go! They’re not your enemies.”

 “They all refuse to answer any questions about you. Don’t you find that strange? Their loyalty is to you and not to Rafe.”

 “They’re more than loyal to Rafe! They’re decent men. They believe that I saved Cavars when I reported an attack by the Alameeda! They were assigned to protect me, and that’s what they’re doing—protecting me is part of their duty.”

 This takes him aback for a second. “We’re the authority here.”

 I make a derisive sound. “They’re Cavars. They don’t see Brigadets as authority—just as you’d scoff at their authority. They were answering to Minister Vallen until he was murdered. They’re intelligent men. They understand motives, and no one had a better motive to kill Defense Minister Vallen than Minister Telek.”

 “You’re accusing Defense Minister Telek of murdering Minister Vallen?”

 “I know he killed him. He told me he did it. He wants me to take the blame for it.”

 “So you admit that you poisoned him!”

 “Oh, for sure. Wouldn’t you? He murdered your defense minister! He wants to kill me to cover it up. Why do you think I poisoned him?” I ask.

 “I think you poisoned him because you’re a spy and you were under orders to kill him.”

 “Under orders from whom?” I ask with a cold stare.

 “The Brotherhood.”

 I frown. “I wouldn’t walk across the street if they ordered me to,” I reply honestly. “Listen to me: I could’ve killed Minister Telek, but I didn’t. That’s not important now. What’s important is what you plan to do to intercept the Alameeda invasion coming on Fitzmartin.” My tone becomes harsher as I speak.

 He looks uncertain. “This is your influence, isn’t it? I’m not falling for your skills.”

 “What do you think I’m doing to you? I’m just being reasonable. If you believe nothing else other than there’s an imminent attack planned, then we’re good. Everything else we can sort out later. At least check into it. Go over whatever protocols you use to defend this place and see if there are any holes. They come in with an air strike—big bombs. The shields will be ineffective because they’ll already be inside,” I ramble. He turns the intercom off so that we can no longer hear each other while he discusses something with his fellow soldiers. I pound on the barrier between us, yelling, “It starts at sixteen parts on Fitzmartin—sixteen parts! Do you understand?”