"What do you sense, vörthih?" Khaleen had been rubbing at her temples. She looked up at Davitheen's question. "Can you feel them out there?"

"The only thing I feel is sick," she said. They stood on the bridge while the search for the Mystborne went on. Violet had checked her over – several times, actually – and had pronounced her unhurt in the struggle; but now the adrenaline rush was wearing off, to be replaced by a pounding headache. Davitheen was still speaking.

"You may be able to find them more easily that we can. The powers of my mind are slight compared to what has been seen in your family."

Khaleen didn't bother asking him what he was talking about. Her mind was still in the infirmary. The investigation had ruled Versang's treachery did not encompassed any more of the crew, but this came as small comfort to the infirmary staff when they learned what he had done. Kittas, the assistant surgeon, was in a state of shock worse than Khaleen's; he had knelt at her feet and asked her to take his life, or let him return it. She had ordered him back on duty.

"Saathas, report," Davitheen barked. Khaleen jumped.

"Still nothing. We know the vector they took; we should have overtaken them by now."

Khaleen swallowed with difficulty as another wave of nausea subsided. Davitheen turned toward her.

"Go rest."

She ground her teeth. "Not until we find them."

"That might not be for hours. Vomiting on my bridge won't make it happen sooner. Go; a strong drink and some rest will set you right."

Khaleen didn't bother with the drink. She wasn't entirely sure how she found her way back to her quarters, and when she reached them, she collapsed onto her bed without undressing. Thought faded to a semiconscious haze, and from that to sleep.

The ugly tapestry on the back wall had come to life. It hovered near the ceiling, a twisting mass of liquid – or was it sand? It whispered to her, but Khaleen couldn't understand what it said. She didn't have time to try; she was busy. She carried Versang's body on her back, down a gauntlet of kings and Aether-keepers who stared sternly past her. At the end of the gauntlet she was sure she would have to put the body down and answer for the surgeon's death. Blood dripped over her shoulder, hitting the ground in familiar patterns. She would never get the stains up, no matter how hard she scrubbed. Then she was flying through space, looking for an invisible ship, and she couldn't remember why. Who was on the ship? Kelly? No, that wasn't right. She must be getting close – but then the invisible ship started buzzing, and Kelly was screaming at her to Get back! Run! There was a horrible rending sound, and she heard screams – women and children and philosophers, Silas and Violet and Algrim – and the blast wave hit her, hurling her back, back, too far to help them…

Khaleen hung between sleep and wakefulness. She heard voices; why had she fallen asleep on the bridge? She couldn't tell what the voices were saying. They were startled, afraid. Get the queen, she heard someone say.

Her eyes popped open. She wasn't on the bridge at all – she was in her quarters, lying in bed with her boots on, her slashed tunic, and one arm asleep. The ugly tapestry hung in its place on the back wall. I have got to get rid of that thing.

She pushed herself up and rubbed the grit from her eyes. Her head didn't hurt as much, and she felt stronger for having slept. She was thinking that she ought to go to the galley and get something to eat when footsteps in the hallway were followed by a pounding on her door.

"Enter."

It was Jarleth. His chest was heaving as though he'd just run a long way.

"Vörthih, you're needed on the bridge," he gasped. "We found them."

Algrim's watch on the bridge relieved Davitheen's not long after Khaleen left. By now they had traveled for most of the day at top speed and still found nothing. Algrim decided to turn around and go back over the area they had covered. Reasoning that the Mystborne might no longer be under power, he instructed the crew to expand their search to inert objects or clusters of a certain size and composition. Within two hours they found what they were looking for.

Khaleen skidded into the bridge behind Jarleth. No one spoke, which wasn't unusual; but no one moved, either. They were all staring at the viewing mirror. Algrim glanced helplessly at her as she came in. Khaleen shivered.

"Where are they?" she asked, coming up beside Algrim. In answer he nodded at the mirror.

At first she wasn't sure what she was seeing. It looked like some kind of plant – a plant in space? That couldn't be right – then her mind pieced it together and she wanted to scream. That wasn't the Mystborne, that couldn't be the Mystborne. The Mystborne was intact and full of people, not twisted and shattered into a thousand pieces. It wasn't possible, it wasn't real –

As much she wanted to deny it, she couldn't. The smell and the screams of her vision – she had known. Alflyse had known. Across a billion miles of space, they had known.

She took a few steps forward. The floor swayed under her; she put out a hand and leaned on the console. She felt Algrim's footfalls beside her and his hand on her shoulder. Behind them, Davitheen came running in, along with others. Silas was there, and Hodhshi. The latter turned away almost at once and left the room. Someone muttered an oath.

"Search for survivors," Khaleen heard herself say.

"We're scanning now," said Algrim, "but there won't be any. Anyone on that ship was killed instantly or within minutes. It would have been quick," he added. "There would have been little pain, and no time for fear."

Khaleen clenched her hands on the console. That's supposed to be comforting?

"Who did this?" she choked.

"We'll find out," Algrim promised.