Folding the Sky

-48-

Kalindi and Jem left the incapacitated soldiers in a cramped maintenance closet, leaning them up against between a mop and broom. The pilfered uniforms were much too big for them—the pants sagged at Kalindi's waist and the sleeves of Jem's jacket swallowed her hands—but they would suffice. They weren't planning for anyone to look at them too closely, anyway; it was a safety measure more than anything, one extra step to make this gamble feel like less of what it was.

"Ready?" Kalindi said as the closet door slammed shut.

Jem dropped the soldier's hat onto her head, smoothing her hair under it. "As I'll ever be."

It wasn't the most comforting of answers, but Kalindi understood the sentiment perhaps more than anyone.

They continued down the hall, checking behind every door they came across, all of which yielded nothing of note. Most were other storage rooms, a bathroom, and one even appeared to be some sort of barracks, row after row of wire bunk beds lining each wall. Graciously, all of the beds were empty.

Already Kalindi could feel herself losing steam, slowing down, as if she were traipsing through mud. How had they thought this would be a good idea—to go in blind, search these ships for a man even the Royal Militia couldn't locate? It was like searching for a specter: more luck, really, than prowess.

Jem halted in place so suddenly that Kalindi nearly careened into her. "What?" she asked, stepping back, blinking her vision clear. "What is it?"

"I hear voices up ahead," Jem said. "A lot of them."

Kalindi paused, listening. She'd been so lost within her own mind that she hadn't realized it, but Jem was right; there was a low hum of noise like that of a dense, revelrous crowd.

Without a second thought, Kalindi pivoted on her heel. "We'll find a way around. There's no way we can make it through that many people undetected."

She gasped as a shadow loomed in front of her, a hand tightening around her throat before she could even think to fight back.

Jem's voice: "Kal—"

Kalindi shushed her harshly, her eyes straining up into the face of a grizzled old man, his dark beard strung with silver and his eyes black and beady. Three gold stars glittered above his breast pocket: a captain. "What have we got here?" he hissed, his breath sour and liquor-scented.

More footsteps sounded, too many, far too many count. Then it was not one man but four, all of them grinning at Kalindi as if she were a rat ensnared in their trap.

One of the soldiers glanced over Kalindi's shoulder at Jem, a vicious smile forming at his lips. "Looks like a couple of Nainoan moles to me," he said, and cackled. "Pro tip. If you're gonna play the wolf in sheep's clothing, make sure the clothing actually fits."

Stars peppered Kalindi's vision. She'd waited long enough.

She jerked her knee upwards, letting out a surprised squeal of frustration when the captain caught it. He clicked his tongue—tsk tsk—then socked her in the face.

Her consciousness flickered away and then back again, and she was on the ground, the floor cold and dirt-streaked underneath her quivering palms, soldier's cap crumpled beside her. Blood trickled steadily down her forehead, her skull throbbing in time with every terrified beat of her heart.

Kalindi blinked the blood from her eyes as a familiar pair of shoes stepped in front of her, shielding her from their assailants. She should've felt relieved, but the dizzying ringing in her ears made it difficult to feel anything at all.