Seven Mercies (Seven Devils, Band 2) - Hardcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Elizabeth May is the author of the YA fantasy trilogy The Falconer and short fiction published in the anthology Toil & Trouble. She was born and raised in California before moving to Scotland, where she earned her PhD at the University of St Andrews. L.R. Lam was first Californian and now Scottish. Lam is the Sunday Times bestselling and award-winning author of Dragonfall (the Dragon Scales trilogy), the Seven Devils duology (co-written with Elizabeth May), Goldilocks, the Pacifica novels, and the award-winning Micah Grey trilogy, which begins with Pantomime. They are also Programme Leader on the Creative Writing MA at Edinburgh Napier University.

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1.

Eris

Present day

It was harder to steal supplies when the whole fucking galaxy wanted Eris and her crew dead.

And she was really, really trying not to murder anyone.

The directive from Kyla came through Eris's Pathos, the minuscule device at the base of her skull that allowed her crew to communicate telepathically.

Their commander was with their primary ship, Zelus, still orbiting Victrix's atmosphere. It was easier to do supply runs in their smaller bullet craft without setting off the Empire's detection systems. Eris's absolute shitstain of a brother would be all too happy to know where they were. Every time she heard him referred to as Archon Damocles on the newscasts, she tasted bile on her new, bionic tongue.

The old military outstation was supposed to be in a deserted forest. When the ship's systems had pinged the coordinates, it said the reduced population of the mostly uninhabitable planet had kept the need for military presence small. It was too mountainous, the soil rugged, and rain fell less every year. Their outposts had been relegated to coastal areas as the forests began to dry out and lose resources; Victrix seemed the safest option for a quick supply run to one of the abandoned storehouses.

The ship's computers had lied.

Maybe not lied-but the systems hadn't been updated since before the Laguna Massacre. On the eve of a truce meant to end a war, Tholosians and Evolians alike had been slaughtered as a virus engineered by the Tholosian Empire swept through the ceremony. An act of war, if there ever was one. It had been a slaughter-a mass casualty event that killed thousands of revelers there to celebrate a new age of peace.

But, of course, no one blamed the Empire. Damocles' reputation had escaped as unblemished as the new, glittering crown he'd fashioned from his father's old one. The Oracle had done One's job-woven One's programming through citizens' minds to crush any whisper of doubt. Even if some niggling question of Damocles' involvement persisted, the Oracle's tendrils would chip away at that doubt day by day.

No, the responsibility for twenty-three thousand massacred people had fallen squarely on the shoulders of Eris, the other six members of their crew, and the remnants of the Novantae Rebellion. They were fugitives, wanted by Tholosians and Evoli alike. And every military outpost and settlement in bumblefuck dust towns in the veritable asshole of the galaxy was on high alert.

And Eris was-again-really, really trying not to kill anyone.

Really.

So, of course, there were bounty hunters camped at the outpost. Of fucking course. Bounty hunters and opportunists made it dangerous to stay in any place for too long.

She made a frustrated noise deep in her throat. They were running out of backup supplies fast. She'd wanted this to be simple.

Eris replied to Kyla, lifting a hand to signal Nyx and Clo.

They crouched next to her in the dense thicket of trees enclosing the old military base, their hovercart concealed under a camouflaged tarp behind them. The women wore dark armor stolen from a prior run. Good shit, Nyx had said with a low whistle when they'd found it. Eris's armor didn't quite fit-too big-but it covered the soft bits she didn't want to be scorched by a Mors bullet.

The easy solution would be to retreat. Return to the ship, find provisions elsewhere. But since the location of Novan headquarters was compromised, their small rebellion had been forced to flee and set up camp wherever they could find it: barely habitable planets, deserted outposts, dying moons. Certified shitholes. Worse: two months earlier, a military ambush on one of their makeshift camps had left the already-struggling resistance in tatters. Many were murdered. Others scattered across the galaxy to hide from the Tholosian Empire. They'd lost most of the tech at their base on Nova, and they still needed to buy or steal food, weapons, and medical equipment.

They didn't exactly have the option of picking and choosing where.

Even forgotten outposts like Victrix were risky. All it took was one brainwashed asshole spotting something out of the ordinary and reporting it to the Oracle. The Empire's near-omniscient AI had upgraded its systems over the last few months in its never-ending search for the rebellion's survivors.

came Kyla's suggestion.

Eris heard Clo's low snort, and they shared a look. Impossible to Infiltrate: Eris's specialty. "Is that a challenge, do you think?" Eris whispered.

"Cannae tell if she's challenging us or trying to get us all shot," Clo muttered.

"Mm." Over the Pathos, Eris asked,

A pause over the Pathos. The chirpy voice of the sixteen-year-old genius came through their network. Eris pictured Ariadne sitting at the monitors, tablet in hand, while she hacked the sensors to keep their team from being detected on the ground. Without her, they would have been burned the moment they set foot near the compound.

Eris didn't bother keeping the annoyance out of her voice.

have cables in your toolbelt, don't you? And the folding grappling hook!>

Nyx snorted.

said Clo, giving Eris a smug grin and holding out her artificial leg, turning it side to side proudly.