by Rebecca Rode
And there, in front of them all, stood Ember.
There were others too, but it was she who captured his gaze. She looked more worn than the last time he’d seen her. But there was a fierceness in her eyes that reminded him of a caged wildcat. The tautness of her shoulders, the sharpness in her movements—she’d been captured but not subdued. Not by a long shot.
Then he understood. The soldiers had driven him off the ship with the others because they knew Ember was on her way. The officials and commanders were probably still on the shuttle now, waiting impatiently for the dangerous flare to be secured before they resumed their busy lives. Stefan had been played.
Ember’s jaw went slack at the sight of him. A mixture of disbelief and confusion crossed her face.
He came to a halt, barely registering that his escorts had stopped as well. Had she thought him dead? Then he followed her gaze to his uniform—deep blue with the single Number One patch on the arm. He followed her train of thought and saw the realization in her dark eyes.
“Ember,” he finally said, then mentally kicked himself. He’d just confirmed her identity to anyone who didn’t already know. Indeed, several of the flickers began to whisper, a light stirring of wind in an otherwise still room. “This isn’t how it looks.”
Her cheeks began to color now. Her jaw worked for a moment before she spoke. “If you’re one of them, it’s exactly how it looks.”
“I’m not—” He paused. Harpen watched their exchange from the screen, obviously to report everything Stefan said to the emperor. If he denied his position, he’d lose it before the hour was out. Then he couldn’t help Ember at all.
Ember’s expression reflected betrayal now, hot and angry. He checked his shield again before forcing himself to calm down. She was angry, but she wouldn’t hurt him. Not unless she really thought he’d turned. And yet that was exactly what he needed to portray if they were going to survive this encounter.
“Were the mechs your idea?” Ember nearly spat.
“Of course not. Ember, you have to believe me. I didn’t want it to happen like this.”
“How did you want us captured, then? I’m very curious to know.”
“You don’t understand,” he told her. “Things aren’t what they appear. You, me, the Union. Their leader.” He didn’t dare say more.
“You’re wrong. I see things very clearly.” She took a step backward, causing the mechs surrounding her to scramble. “If you aren’t here to help, then leave. Sir.”
Her mock respect sounded so much like Karyl’s he had no reply. The entire ship talked about him behind his back, calling him a traitor. The emperor himself thought him amusing, lovesick, and inexperienced at the very least. But he’d endured it all because it meant finding Ember. And now that he’d found her, she considered him a traitor too.
Ember tore her gaze away, fixing it solidly upon the floor.
One of the officers turned smartly to Stefan. “The cells are ready for the prisoners, Candidate One. With your permission?”
Now he understood. Harpen had staged all this. She wanted the officers to appear as if they were reporting to Stefan rather than the other way around. She wanted the flickers to see Stefan as a man of authority. And most of all, she wanted Ember to see that Stefan was fully and irretrievably on the Empire’s side. They had succeeded more beautifully than Stefan could have imagined.
Stefan was a tool. If he broke character and explained the truth to Ember now, he’d cease to be useful in the emperor’s view. And he couldn’t do that yet. Not when there was a chance he could rescue her from her fate. His hands were tied even more tightly than Ember’s at the moment.
Ember was here, standing right in front of him. He longed to rush over and pull her into his arms, to kiss away the daggers in her eyes, to run his hands through her long black hair. He wanted to tell her about the emperor and Karyl and Kane’s office and everything he’d been through. He longed to ask her where she’d gone and what it was like. Most of all, he wished he could tell her what he’d discovered about her father. If he did nothing else, he had to explain that much. If she somehow managed to escape on her own, he had to stop her from returning to that horrible group that called themselves the Union.
But he couldn’t do any of that. Today he had to be Stefan the candidate, potential high commander under the emperor. He’d been playing the part for weeks now. He could do it once more.
“I suggest you don’t put up a fight, Ember. I’d hate to watch you get carried out of here.” Then he turned to the officer. “Put her in a cell, but send for human escorts as well. I don’t trust these mechs to do what needs to be done.” If the officer challenged him on such a small point, it would look bad. That’s the best I can do for you now, Ember. Please forgive me.
Ember’s jaw dropped. She stared after him as he made his way back to the door, then entered the hallway. It took every ounce of willpower he had to turn the corner out of sight.
Then he stood there against the wall, panting. His chest constricted so tightly he wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough air again.
The entire room watched Stefan leave. When the doors closed behind him, Ember felt a deep pain inside her, tangible and real. She’d felt it before—long ago, as she leaned over her dead mother’s body. And again a few weeks before, watching Dai’s recording. Ember had already lost everyone she loved, so she hadn’t expected to experience such fresh grief ever again.
It felt as if someone had just closed a jar over her head, leaving her in stifling, terrifying silence. Even the flickers’ whispering had stopped. The two officers near the doors held a whispered conversation, then quickly left.
“Well, that was fun,” Harpen said on the screen. She looked delighted. “Flickers, you’ve performed beautifully so far. There’s only one thing I’d like you to do before you’re dismissed. You will read the traitors and tell me where their base is located.”
Reina went rigid as Syd gave a little squeak. Brennan went pale. The combat flickers wore dark expressions. The largest, Mateo, seemed to be testing his bonds.
Ember had forgotten all about the Union prisoners. She searched the crowd lining the walls again. There. She’d seen the forms earlier but assumed they were sleeping flickers. Now she saw the legs’ unnatural angles, the boots that didn’t move. Over a dozen bodies were shoved against the wall like extra chairs.
“Those other prisoners were no good to us,” Harpen said, following Ember’s gaze. “It was kind of your leader to send us fresh minds to crack.”
The flickers chuckled to themselves, though few looked fully comfortable with what was happening. They kept looking warily at the mechs, then eyeing the doorway again. When this was all over they’d probably return to their regular posts and try to forget they were ever used as worthless bait.
Stars. General Pyne hadn’t devised a plan to deal with this particular scenario, but that was no excuse. They didn’t have the strength to withstand a few hundred flickers hacking into their souls.
“You know I won’t let you do that, Harpen,” Ember said, her mind scrambling through her options. There weren’t many. “I don’t have to let your flickers live. I could kill them all in a second.” She could kill everyone on the ship, really. Though something told her it was pointless now.
The flickers around her went still. A chittering laugh erupted from the woman on the screen. “You’re a marvel, gypsy. Really, you are. But there are certain things even you won’t do.”
Ember glowered at the screen. “Trying to read us would be very unwise, and your flickers will soon find that out.”
“Oh, you won’t be here to protect the others. We’ve something special in mind for you. Ah, here we are.”
Soldiers came marching in. They rushed to surround the prisoners, weapons in hand.
“Just the gypsy, boys,” Harpen said. “Leave the rest. And don’t think about hurting my flickers, little flare. One of yours dies for each of mine that falls.”
The soldiers appro
aching Ember were terrified. She could see it in their stance, the way they watched her as if she’d strike them down at any moment. A few of them threw up rough shields, though they’d obviously had poor training. But overcoming them would do her no good as long as those mechs insisted on accompanying her as well.
The strange group guided Ember out—six human soldiers and four mechs. She winced as the doors closed behind her, still tempted to sweep the entire room unconscious. But then she remembered Syd, the sweet, loyal teenager trying so hard to be brave. Brennan and Reina, the twins, who disagreed on method but desperately wanted to make a difference. The larger flickers so well trained in combat. They’d come because they trusted her. She couldn’t risk their deaths unnecessarily. She would have to believe their shields could withstand the flickers’ readings until Ember escaped. It was time to trust in their training.
Ember walked slowly, examining her companions for weaknesses as they walked. Two of the guards were less experienced than the others, their weapon hands trembling a bit. One of the others eyed her as they walked, ready for any opportunity to shoot. The mechs walked in unison despite their different positions. That meant they were controlled by a single source. If only she knew where that source was.
She didn’t have time for this. She was supposed to be the most powerful being in the universe. Too strong to be deterred by a few simple soldiers and walking robots with guns. A god, limitless and invincible.
Ember frowned. She didn’t believe that. Where had that thought come from?
Kill them all. Just release your light, and everything will be fine.
Panic rose up within her. Something stirred inside, an entity that felt separate yet familiar. Her inner light was trying to communicate again. Its words were little more than images, suggestions of a future Ember could choose to follow. It appeared to be prodding Ember to action.
But its advice was foolish. Even if she knocked the guards unconscious, the mechs would stun her in a heartbeat. Then she’d be useless to save the Union. At least this way there was a chance of escape.
The lift doors opened to admit them. Her inner light was writhing now, pushing to break free of its prison. Ember shoved it back, alarmed at its strength. Not now.
Her inner light didn’t listen. It propelled itself into her, around her, merging with Ember’s consciousness like fire absorbing a dry log. Heat burned through her veins and rushed down her arms. She gasped.
And then she was in a box, completely disconnected from her faculties. She fought to move her fingers, to escape, but nothing worked. It was as if she floated inside herself. She pounded on the walls separating her from the outside world. Her body stood inside the lift, yet she seemed to be somewhere else.
Ember’s guards stared at her, sensing the change. A strange light shone from the captain’s eyes now. He straightened, looked down upon his fellow soldiers, and raised his weapon.
And Ember screamed.
Minutes later, she broke free of her mental prison to find six corpses and four heaps of metal scattered across the floor. The lift doors opened, releasing the lazy smoke rising from what remained of her guards.
The lift tilted in her vision, and she stumbled toward the doors. She barely made it into the corridor before her stomach released its contents. She dropped to her knees, trembling violently, allowing her body to empty itself. Then she wrapped her arms around her chest and tried to focus on her breathing, pointedly avoiding the gruesome sight behind her. The lift doors saved her the trouble by closing.
What in the fiery stars just happened?
Her inner light didn’t reply. It had retreated back to its usual place, a shadow in the background of Ember’s consciousness. Her heart hammered in her chest. Horrifying images flashed through her mind, things she wasn’t sure she’d just experienced. She couldn’t have. What she’d just done—or rather, what some part of her had done—couldn’t be explained. Yet here she was, unguarded and free.
The Union. The team.
Ember stumbled to her feet, shoving back the shock to process later. Then she broke into a run.
Chapter 20
Stefan didn’t head to his office. There was no point. Instead, he walked in the direction of the rec deck, which also happened to be on the same deck as the brig. He knew the area better than a candidate should. Maybe they’d put her in the very cell he’d occupied. It was secure, secluded, and nearly impenetrable from the outside. That meant he needed to plan his next move carefully.
All that remained to be seen was whether the emperor still needed him. He had no idea whether his act had fooled the emperor or not. At best, they’d allow Stefan to remain free. He would get a drink, take a casual walk around the corridors near the brig, and plan Ember’s escape. Or they’d toss him in there with her and they could figure out how to escape. Either way they would end up together. He would tell her the truth—that his heart still belonged to her. That everything he’d done was for her.
And at worst—well, the emperor would decide his usefulness was over and execute him after all. He wouldn’t be able to help Ember if he were dead.
The bodies scattered throughout the corridor were being cleared by the newly arrived soldiers now and taken to the med bay as a precaution. They’d awaken with a bruise or two and possibly a headache, if his memory served him right. The ship would be fully functioning again within four hours. Capturing Ember had only put them a day off schedule.
He took the lift to the rec deck and stepped off into noise and lights despite the early hour, then headed straight to the bar. To his surprise, Candidate Four was its only occupant.
The man looked up as Stefan approached. His eyes were red from lack of sleep, although his uniform looked as crisp as ever. Stefan paused, questioning his plan. He didn’t have time for another disturbing conversation.
“They captured the flare,” the man murmured. “Told us as we got off the ship.”
He didn’t seem in a violent mood, at least. “I heard.”
“We’re irrelevant now. Can’t exactly go back to my old position.”
Stefan gave his order to the bartender and turned back to Candidate Four. “Why not?”
He turned to Stefan, raising a hairy black eyebrow. Then he snickered to himself, turning back to his drink.
So much for friendly conversation. Stefan retrieved his drink and gulped it down, all the while thinking of Ember. That night in the music room immediately came to mind. Her carefree song, so gentle and full of emotion. She hadn’t been self-conscious at all about singing in front of a stranger.
That was the night, he decided. From that moment on, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his thoughts. She’d weaved her way into his heart as her song had gripped his mind. If by some miracle he got an Empire position somewhere, he could see himself living exactly like this—numbing his heart with alcohol and wishing they were together. It felt so empty now. Why had he ever wanted this?
His wristband buzzed.
Stefan set his drink down and turned to the message scrolling across the screen, his throat tightening. Had the emperor made his decision already?
No. His neighbor did the same, as did everyone else in the room. A ship-wide announcement.
Report to stations immediately. Report to stations immediately. Report to . . .
There was a collective groan, particularly from the other candidate, as the music halted and the room’s occupants headed for the doors. But Stefan’s mind was alert despite the alcohol. All the soldiers who had been taken from the ship were returning. The downed soldiers and workers were being cleared. There was only one thing that warranted a message like this. The Empire was searching for somebody.
An escaped prisoner, perhaps.
The moment Stefan entered the corridor, he broke into a run.
The cargo bay was chaos by the time he arrived. There were more sleeping bodies than before, although some lay with their eyes wide and unseeing. Those ones had been stunned.
A shuttle near t
he back, an old, run-down thing—obviously not an Empire vessel—started its engines. The hatch began to close.
Stefan cursed and ran for it, urging himself faster as he leaped over fallen bodies. “Ember! Wait!”
The hatch paused, then, to Stefan’s relief, started to open again.
He put on a burst of speed and leaped up the gangplank.
Someone shoved him backward. A second later he lay on his back on the ground, staring upward, stunned to find Ember standing on the gangplank, stunner trained on his chest. She looked pale, dark red staining her trousers. Her dark eyes were narrowed in suspicion.
“You got away,” he said, unable to hide the joy in his voice. “How did you do it?”
“I’m not sure,” she muttered under her breath. Then she raised her voice. “Did you come to arrest us?”
A man and woman looked up from their preparations inside the shuttle, their faces somber.
He flinched. “You really think—look, that was all for show. If they knew how I really felt about you, they would have killed me the moment I left that room. Please believe me.”
She lifted an eyebrow, but the stunner in her hand remained trained on him. Then he detected it—a slight tremble. A twitch of her mouth. Her widened eyes. Something had shaken her badly.
“You can’t go back to the Daughter,” Stefan said.
Now she stared at him as if he’d morphed into the emperor. “Oh? Let me guess. I should stay here and get myself arrested.”
“No, you need to get away. But not to that woman, Ember. You can’t trust her—she’s dangerous.”
“If there’s anyone I can’t trust, it’s you. I don’t have time for this conversation. We’re leaving.” She turned to go.
His heart sank into the ground beneath him. This wasn’t going as planned. He tried again. “Her name is Lea, and she wants to kill the emperor. If she succeeds, she’ll put us on a bloody path that will end with the extermination of nearly every race.”