[i]The command seal is livid black and red breaking the cream of her skin, spread over the back of her hand. It is fully subdermal now, a twisted and delicate thing of Protohermaic script in gleaming metal. Redana has no idea how long she has until her theft of it is discovered. Maybe the wardens are already on their way.

“See this?” She pulls her glove down and Bella recoils, her tail stiff and her eyes wide. “It’s a command seal. I can use it to tell the statue at the door to help us steal a ship! She’ll take us to the hangars, and then we’ll go see the stars. The stars, Bella! Imagine how many wonders we could see out there, how many new friends we could meet—“

Redana ignores the warning until it’s too late: the way that Bella’s ears lay flat on her skull, the sick and frightened smile that isn’t matched in her eyes, the tensing of her fingers. She’s just too excited. The crack of Bella’s palm on her cheek tears the words away, leaves her ear ringing.

For a moment the two stare at each other. Redana holds her blemished hand to her cheek, her mind a whirl. The Auspex highlights in shimmering orange the pressure points of Bella’s body for a painful, non-lethal takedown; she misses the way that Bella’s eyes flick wildly between the red mark on her cheek and the hand that planted it there.

“Take that, that thing out,” Bella finally hisses. “We are going to put it back and pretend nothing happened.” She isn’t clear what she means by that, exactly. The Auspex pops up a little picture of a frantically beating heart. So many distractions! Her cheek is still throbbing; Bella put her hips into the swing.

“Bella, please, we don’t have time for this!” In her mind the wardens are already at the door, waved in by the statue of Athena, here to help with removing the seal and assisting her to her room, where she is to stay until her mother arrives. Why can’t Bella see that? An adorably stylized princess presses her thumb against the flashing orange spot until the servitor slumps over with zzzs over her head. Another slams an open palm against the base of her perfectly fluffy ears and then presses two fingers against her jaw until the struggling stops. Redana closes her eyes as tight as she can but the horrible images keep coming.

When she opens her eyes, Bella is framed perfectly in the doorway, her tail lashing, her chest heaving. “The Empress said to keep you safe,” her Bella says, crumpling and kneading her apron. “Even from yourself...”[/i]

***

“You [i]scaredy-cat![/i]”

Redana hauls herself up using a bell strap as a handhold. She looks [i]terrible.[/i] Her hair tie has given up the ghost, her breath is shallow, and her pallor makes her look like she’s put on her paint for the Festival of the Honorable Dead. But she’s not stopping. Her grip is firm and her mismatched eyes are steady.

“I made a promise, Bella! We have to go back!” Her boot hits a corner as Bella ducks into a side street and she bites down on the scream, burying her face into Bella’s neck for a moment. She still smells like home. She always smells like home. “Bella, please,” she sobs in frustration: at her body, at her servitor, at Jas’o. “We don’t have time for this...”