Page 54 of Phoenix's Last Heist
I standto the side to let Lyra pass—her frosty smile leaving phantom chips of ice on my shoulders. She doesn’t look at me, not really. Her gaze skims over my chest, over my mouth, before darting away too fast, like she’s afraid I’ll see what’s still burning there. It may be petty, but her petulant jealousy is a balm to the ragged shards of my heart. The incensed ire and simmering fury she’s trying to paste a smile over comfort me almost as much as if she’d taken back her words from earlier. There’s something perversely reassuring about her anger—it means it mattered, at least a little, and she’s pretending indifference because the alternative would undo her.
It doesn’t mean anything.
I should have known—should have guessed she would be quick to push me away. That’s her instinct: retreat before she can be abandoned. The moment I reached for her, really reached, I should’ve known she’d armor up again. The time I’ve spent with her has taught me that beneath her passionate bravado and devil-may-care lifestyle, she’s actually quitepredictable. Quietly fragile. Not that she’ll ever admit as much to me—or anyone.
We’re already on borrowed time. I have to come clean with her about the Dark Star and talk to her about the Solar Mother idol. It’s what she came for, what she thinks she wants—but stars help me, I want her to want something more. To wantme, maybe. I know how important it is to her—that her freedom is on the line—but there has to be another way. We can find another way out…together.
If I have to follow her to Ooneryx and deal with Brill myself, I can. I will.
“Evie, this is incredible,” Lyra breathes, turning in a slow circle. “This isn’t an office—this is a paradise! How did you manage it?”
Dragging my gaze away from her, I finally take in our surroundings. I expected a small berth of rusted metal matching the corridor, perhaps with a desk and other tech needed to organize a massive salvage operation, but if I didn’t know better, I’d think we left the station entirely.
The entire far wall of the room is a window facing out into space. Stars glitter in the distance, trailing by with our slow orbit. The walls of the cabin appear green at first, but upon closer inspection I see every available surface is covered with plants. Soft mosses, speckled leaves, tiny delicate flowers, and wispy thin trailing vines cling to the metal, giving the room the appearance of a living forest glen. Soft golden light spills down from the ceiling and if I close my eyes, I can almost believe we’re down on Xylothia. The tepid humidity, faint verdant scent of growth, and muted quiet arrow straight into my heart, nearly buckling my knees with acute homesickness.
“How does it grow?” I wonder. “No soil, poor light…yet you’ve been able to recreate a small ecosystem in such a desolate metal capsule.”
“It wasn’t easy, I can tell you that much. It took a lot of time, patience, and catastrophic plant failures before I got my systems dialed in. I managed to get some seeds from Terrin-4 so I could make this feel a little bit more like home. I’d be happy to show you later, if you’re interested,” Evie replies amiably, clearly pleased that we’re admiring her handiwork.
“I got the biosphere up and running on Lyra’s ship,” I offer. “But the growth is slower than I’d like. If I were back on Xylothia, I could tap into the soil and help encourage growth patterns, but it doesn’t work on plant life outside my home world.”
“Wait, what?” Lyra turns to me, shock etched on her face. “You can talk to fucking plants?”
I feel my synesfores flicker in annoyance.
“I can’ttalkto plants, no,” I reply. “But some Xylothians are innately in tune with the natural world on Xylothia. It’s a give and take relationship. We can offer our energy—our blood—our life-force to our world and encourage things to grow and thrive. Much like yourvellianot being a universally appealing pheromone?—”
“It’s a curse, is what it is,” Lyra grumbles.
“—not all Xylothians possess the ability. It varies. And the effects have been lessening over the last few generations. I don’t possess a tenth of the power my ancestors did,” I finish, ignoring her interruption.
“That’s wild. How come you didn’t tell me?” Lyra prods.
“You should have known what you were walking into when you landed on my planet and started taking things you didn’t understand or respect,” I shoot back. “And besides, you didn’t ask.”
Lyra sends me another dark look, so I turn my attention back to Evie, who’s watching us with rapt attention.
“Thank you, by the way, for offering us sanctuary,” I say.
“Well, you can thank me by sitting down and telling me what the hell you’ve gotten yourselves into,” Evie says. She gestures to a couple of worn—but comfortable—seats in front of her desk and pulls a decanter of dark purple liquid from a shelf. Pouring three glasses of the viscous beverage, she hands them to us and collapses into her chair.
Lyra holds her cup up in a gesture of respect and tips it back without a word. I stare at mine, unsure of what, exactly, I’m about to imbibe.
“Does he not drink?” Evie asks Lyra. Then, to me: “Do you not drink?”
“What am I drinking, Ms. Redfern?” I ask, trying to keep my tone polite.
“I promise you it’s not that disgusting moonshine Lyra keeps stored next to her fuel cells. You have the privilege of sampling a little of my own brew,” Evie replies, already pouring a second glass for herself and for Lyra.
“Don’t worry about it, Orion,” Lyra says dismissively. “If you drank half a bottle of Zorium moonshine and escaped without a hangover, a little of Evie’s plumrot isn’t going bother you.”
I toast to her and take a tentative sip—though the texture is disturbingly thick, the flavor is mildly tart and almost too sweet. Upon seeing me smile approvingly, Evie grins and waves impatiently at Lyra.
“Anytime you’re ready, Pinky Pie,” she says. “I do have other things to attend to, you know.”
“Kraxis and his merry band of Void Stalkers caught up with us, Orion blew a hole in their ship, and now we’re hiding out here,” Lyra says, reaching for the decanter again.
“Okay, maybe a little less abbreviated,” Evie says, her brow furrowing.
