Epilogue

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The Folly | Three months later

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Kael sat at the Outpost and contemplated his beer.

This bar was marginally better than most of the others in The Folly. If only because there were fewer obvious particles floating in their beer.

His shoulder ached.

His last competitor had managed to slam him into the ground and break his collarbone. Kael broke his neck in return.

Carefully.

After all, the man was still breathing when they’d carried him out of the Arena. It may be a black ring, but he wouldn’t kill unless he had to.

He’d grudgingly visited one of the MedDocs, who had patched him up and charged him a fortune for the privilege.

Fighting in the Arena twice a day—or more—had been cathartic at first. And the coin added up nicely.

He’d sold the Styx when he arrived. He’d needed the credit, and it wasn’t like he was going anywhere.

Unfortunately, he was now getting progressively more bored. Not quite enough to take Rina up on her offers of Merc Work, but he knew that day wasn’t far off.

He never asked about Wraith.

Rina never offered. But she seemed to be waiting for him to crack. Certainly, she made sure she ended their weekly drinks by scowling at him and telling him he was an idiot.

She wasn’t wrong.

He sipped his beer.

The Void still waited at the edge of awareness.

It was silent. And patient.

And he didn’t know what would happen next time he let it in.

Still worth it.

---

“You know, when Rina told me you were trying to kill yourself, I thought she meant in the Arena. Not by drinking the barely disguised sewerage they serve at the Outpost.”

He set his drink down. Turned.

She looked like all the dreams he told himself he wasn’t allowed to have.

Longer hair. Same fire.

Well-fit spacer uniform in unrelieved black. And enough weapons to discourage most of the locals from trying anything… at least without back up.

She walked up to him, snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Major, you still alive in there?”

He laughed, able to breathe again.

“Nope. Died three months ago.”

She gave him a half smile—Void, he’d missed that smile.

“Well, then. Shade thinks he’s found something on Geist. I’m headed back to Perdition.” She paused, “Want to tag along?”

---

They walked in companionable silence.

Wraith knew there was probably a fuck ton to be said, but now didn’t seem to be the time to say it.

They had plenty of time on the trip to the outer reaches. More than a month, once you factored in station stop overs.

She had modified her fancy new ship to be Fold-capable and it flew like a dream. But she remembered Kael’s shifting eyes at the Anchor. She wouldn’t be taking him back Inbetween in a hurry.

She glanced at him as they neared the dock.

He’d changed. Hardened. But not in a way she minded.

She still thought his eyes were pretty.

She’d parked her ship near the back of the dock, and they’d walked past several others in varying states of space-worthiness when Kael stopped in his tracks.

“Wait a minute, isn’t that my ship?”

Wraith smothered a grin as the hold ramp opened smoothly in front of them.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. This is the Lethe.”

She turned and winked at him, “Come on, Kael, let’s get out of here.”

---

Wraith walked up the ramp. Kael stood frozen; momentarily stunned.

“You know,” he called, hurrying after her, “that’s only the second time you’ve ever used my real name.”

She was standing a few meters inside, checking a crate. She glanced at him, “Really?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, “The first time, you were high on Silk, and you said it right before you kissed me.”

She didn’t turn, kept her attention on the crate, “Huh.”

“So,” his lips curled up, “Should I be worried about my virtue?”

Finally, she stood and turned towards him.

Her gaze raked over him, slow and deliberate.

He forgot how to breathe.

“Maybe,” she said. “Eventually.”

He sucked in a breath, grinned, and hit the ramp close button.

“I can live with that.”