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It was the same dream again: the face of a woman Catra had never met but spent most of her life hating, expression fixed in a maddeningly encouraging smile.
‘How did he know?’ the woman said, like she always did.
‘How did who know what?’ Catra replied, even though she knew it was pointless. She was already awake.
On the other side of the room, Glimmer looked up from her chair. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Nothing,’ Catra lied. ‘Just a dream.’
It was a precarious thing, the foundation on which she and Glimmer stood. The bonds between them were forged of reluctance and necessity. They were brittle. Every conversation was another opportunity for them to shatter. She couldn’t know how Glimmer would react to the news that, every night they’d spent on Horde Prime’s ship so far, Catra had dreamt of Glimmer’s mother, alive and well and always asking the same meaningless question.
Glimmer groaned. ‘Fine.’ She strode over to the door, drew herself up in what Catra imagined she thought was a regal bearing, and hit the panel to open it. The door slid open in total silence, revealing a guard beyond. They were armed with a shock lance, angled casually across the doorway in a way that barred it without seeming to do so. ‘The Queen of Bright Moon,’ Glimmer said, ‘wishes to speak with Horde Prime.’
The guard made a polite affirmative noise. The door slid shut again. Glimmer’s shoulders slumped.
‘Give it up, Sparkles. He’ll come when he wants to. We’re prisoners.’
‘Does this look like a prison to you?’
It didn’t. It was a beautiful room, in an alien sort of way: bright whites and dull greys in sharp, geometric patterns, furniture built elegantly into the walls to give the impression of something natural, a cave or a tangle of tree roots. There was a giant window, running the length of the room where the far wall became ceiling in a smooth curve. The view had taken Catra’s breath away the first time she’d seen it, and the second, and the third: Etheria from space, in all its shades of blue and red and purple, and hanging over it, the dark thorns of Prime’s fleet. By the second day the novelty had worn off. Now the sight made her feel mildly nauseous.
Nothing on the ship looked familiar to Catra. ‘It doesn’t have to look like a prison to be one.’
Glimmer’s mouth twisted. ‘You saved us in the throne room, Force Captain. Were you planning on doing anything else, or is the rest up to me?’
‘Careful,’ Catra snapped, baring her teeth. ‘If we’re pointing fingers, I might have to remind you that it’s your fault we’re here in the first place.’
‘What? You were the one who summoned him! You and Hordak!’
‘Yeah, and he never would have made it here if it hadn’t been for you activating the Heart—’
‘I tried to stop—’
‘Sure, after the fact. But hey, at least you didn’t accidentally destroy the whole universe, right? We have that in common.’
Catra knew at once that she’d crossed a line. Glimmer’s face went perfectly still, her expression so neutral it was like staring at a robot. ‘Don’t,’ she said, ‘you dare compare what you did to what I did. You killed my mother!’
There were a lot of things Catra might have said in response. She could have lashed out, rubbed Angella’s fate in Glimmer’s face. She could have pointed out that Angella was not technically dead, only trapped forever in an unstable portal. She could have said a lot of things that sidestepped the question of how Catra felt.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ she whispered.
‘I’m sorry, what? You didn’t mean to?’
‘I didn’t know what would happen! I didn’t know your mother would sacrifice herself! None of that was supposed to happen!’
‘And it wouldn’t have, if you’d listened to—’
‘I know!’ Catra was on her feet, ears flat against her scalp, and she wasn’t sure when she’d started shouting. ‘I know, all right? I should have listened to Entrapta, and I should have listened to Adora, and I should have listened to Hordak of all people, but I didn’t, because I drive people away, all right? That’s who I am. I know.’
Glimmer’s mouth was open, but the wind had clearly left her sails. Catra retreated to the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. It didn’t matter anymore. There was no more winning. There was only surviving.
‘I should have listened to Shadow Weaver,’ Glimmer said eventually. She was still standing in the middle of the room, gaze fixed on the window.
The words were so unexpected Catra laughed, weakly. ‘As no one has ever said before.’
Glimmer turned back to her and the moment of mirth died stillborn. ‘She warned me not to do it, you know.’
Catra uncurled herself and sprawled across the bed. It felt good, almost, to see the grief and rage on Glimmer’s face. Better to know they were there, that Glimmer was in control of them, than to wait for the inevitable explosion. ‘Shadow Weaver told you not to do something, and you did it anyway. I think that’s the most relatable thing I’ve ever heard from you, Sparkles.’
Glimmer’s eyes narrowed, and Catra wondered whether she’d ever learn how to stop things blowing up in her face—but then the other girl breathed out, slowly, and her fists unclenched. ‘This doesn’t mean I forgive you.’
‘Of course not.’ It didn’t matter. Catra had given up on forgiveness a long time ago.
‘I hold you responsible for everything you’ve done. But—I accept that you didn’t intend for my mother to die. If you accept that I didn’t know activating the Heart would stabilise the portals.’
Something caught in Catra’s mind, like a burr in coarse wool. Something in the way Glimmer had said it, something important, but like a dream, the more she tried to cling to it the faster it faded. She shook her head, clenched her teeth. It didn’t matter. ‘All right, Sparkles. It’s a truce.’
Behind Glimmer, the door slid open. Catra sat up straight, started to raise her hand—
‘Do you have to call me—’
Glimmer cut off the moment Horde Prime entered the room, his presence as loud as the door was silent. ‘I’m terrible sorry to interrupt, Your Highness,’ he said, in the same voice Catra had been hearing all her life: Hordak’s voice, but with all the rough edges smoothed down until they were soft. Slick. Genteel.
Catra had to give Glimmer credit. If she was surprised that Prime had finally answered her summons, she didn’t show it. ‘Good! I would like to discuss our situation here.’ One of her eyes twitched. ‘And you may address me as Your Majesty.’
Something flickered on Prime’s face: a scowl, there and gone, so quick Catra might not have noticed it. But she had years of practice in reading that same face, and she knew that in that moment, something, however small, had gone wrong for Horde Prime.
‘Of course! But first, I fear we have a distraction to deal with.’ The spread of his arms took in Glimmer alone. ‘I’m afraid your companion here has not been entirely forthcoming. My scientists have confirmed her claims, yes, but… she is not needed. She is no one. Guards? Take her to the prison. And keep her away from… the other prisoner.’
Catra didn’t struggle. What was the point? This was her life: if she did not cling to every shred of power she could find, she was swept away by people like Hordak or Glimmer or, now, Prime.
‘Wait! Stop! What are you going to do with her?’
How funny, Catra thought. The princess cares at last.
‘You needn’t worry about her anymore,’ Prime said, and that was the last thing she heard before the guards manhandled her through the door and it slid shut, and Catra was alone.
It might have broken her, that final separation from the only other person on the ship who cared about her. But thoughts had a funny way of coming together at the least expected of moments, and instead of despair, Catra’s mind was running full-tilt at a plan. The princess cares at last.
Except Glimmer was not a princess. She was a queen.
How did he know?
Royalty, Horde Prime had called her in the throne room. Your Majesty. Why had he slipped up this time? Why address her as Her Highness?
How did he know?
Someone had told him about Glimmer. Someone who still thought of her as a princess.
I didn’t know activating the Heart would stabilise the portals.
Portals, plural. Including the one Catra had made.
Keep her away from the other prisoner.
Catra had been wrong. She wasn’t alone. There was one more person on the ship who might help her. There was one last hope.
The plan was simple: she would break out. She would find and rescue the Queen of Bright Moon.
Then she would rescue the other Queen of Bright Moon.
Catra allowed herself a moment to imagine the look on Glimmer’s face when she turned up with Queen Angella, very much alive, in tow.
It was enough to make her laugh.