Free Honour's Knight by Rachel Bach

more I thought about it, the less I understood why I found Ren’s smile so scary. Other than the night she’d smiled at me in the lounge, I couldn’t actually remember her doing anything threatening, but thinking about her definitely increased the feeling that I’d forgotten something. I ground my teeth, trying to force my stupid brain to remember. There had to be a reason I was so afraid of her; what was it? What had I forgotten?
    I was still trying to figure this out when the hand grabbed my spine.
    I shot bolt upright. From the lack of horrible pain, I knew there was no way a hand could actually be grabbing my spine, but that was exactly what it felt like. Five fingers and a palm, wrapped around the vertebrae just below my neck. I could even feel the fingers moving inside me, readjusting to get a better grip.
    My shock had been enough to flip my suit into combat mode, but when my vitals flashed up, I didn’t see anything wrong. My suit had no breaches, and though the panic had elevated my heart rate, I was otherwise fine. I didn’t see anything behind me through my rear cameras either. I was about to flip my visor back down and do a full scan when a soft, feminine voice whispered in my mind.
    Come.
    As the word finished, the hand on my spine jerked, and I popped out of my body like a shucked pea.

CHAPTER 3
    W hen the hand on my spine let go, I was no longer on the ship.
    I wasn’t even in my armor, just the thin shirt and pants I’d been wearing under it, which was pretty sad coverage against the blizzard I was standing in. Snow was blowing so thickly I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of my nose. My legs were buried to the knees in it, and I could feel even more beneath my bare feet. For all of this, though, I wasn’t cold. I was pretty comfortable, actually, except for my right hand, which hurt like someone was squeezing my fingers in a vise. I looked down in alarm, jerking my hand back at the same time only to find I couldn’t. Ren was standing beside me, and my hand was crushed in hers.
    I’ve seen a lot of weird shit in nine years of armored combat, but I was now officially out of my depth. The captain’s daughter wasn’t wearing the heavy coat I’d seen her leave the ship in twenty minutes ago. Instead, she was dressed in a white cotton hospital gown that tied at her sides. Her feet were bare like mine, but she was standing on top of the drift rather than in it, perched on the crested snow like a bird. Other than that, though, she looked normal: same blank expression, her dark hair hanging still just above her shoulders despite the howling wind. Even her eyes were focused with the same insane attention they had when she was playing her game, only now, instead of staring at a chessboard, Ren was staring at me .
    I stepped back instinctively, and then yelped when her hand tightened on mine so hard my joints popped. The pain sent a clear message, and I stopped trying to get away, shuffling back to her side. The grip eased up with every inch I neared. By the time I was standing next to her, our locked hands were almost friendly.
    I glanced down at thin clothes and then up again at the howling blizzard that wasn’t wet or cold. And then, because it was obvious that this was a dream, I asked, “What’s going on?”
    Instead of answering, Ren just tilted her head, her dark eyes sliding past me. When I turned to follow her gaze, I realized we were no longer alone. Three figures were trudging out of the storm behind me, climbing a steep slope I hadn’t seen under all the snow. They were little more than shadows in the blizzard, but I could see enough to make out the shapes of two men and a child.
    After that, it was pretty obvious. Caldswell, Ren, and the cook reached the top of the slope and walked past us without a glance. I watched them until they vanished into the snow again, and then I took a deep breath of the snowy air I couldn’t taste or feel and closed my eyes, trying to will myself to