My stomach coiled into knots as Parker's ship closed in on the Vicious. I crossed my arms to help keep me together in preparation for what we might find. The fabric of my fresh shirt - a loaner from Crispin - felt rough against my skin, especially the scales. My chains sighed against my damp hair, but it hardly registered.

After I'd washed away all the blood and gore with a shower, Poh and I had helped each other clean and dress our wounds in Parker's infirmary. Most of mine ...