by Rebecca Rode
“And you know this how?” She was still walking away.
“I found it in a journal.” It sounded so ridiculous when he said it aloud. “And while I was there, I found the cause of your powers. It’s not what you think.”
She went rigid, then whirled to face him, raising her stunner again. “That’s what this is about? My father was a flare, and so am I. That’s all I need to know.”
“But that’s just it. I think flares are flickers with a disorder, a dangerous one. An experiment that went bad a long time ago.”
Her expression darkened. “So I have a disorder now?”
“Listen for a second. You said your father was sick. How is he now?”
Her stunner lowered a fraction of an inch, but her expression remained hard and unyielding. “He didn’t make it.”
Stefan wanted to draw her into his arms, to ask her about it, to sorrow with her. But this wasn’t the time. “What if it wasn’t a normal sickness that killed him? I found records of a flicker patient whose infant supposedly died from the strain of a certain virus, and Commander Kane faked the infant’s death so he could raise him personally in the flicker breeding program. It wasn’t until later that he suddenly had mysterious powers. I think that was your father.”
Ember’s face drained of color as he spoke. She didn’t speak for a long moment.
“Lady Flare!” a man from inside called. “We’ve got to leave now.”
“It was started by the Union,” Stefan said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “They aren’t the good guys. Stay, Ember. We’ll leave together and find a medical lab that can test you, make sure you get that strain under control if you have it.”
She snorted. “You want to cure me of being a flare. Is that it?”
“No. I mean, yes, your abilities may leave with it, but—”
“You’re unbelievable.” She turned away and headed back up the gangplank.
He’d waited so long to see her, and now he was about to lose her again. He took a step forward, trying to close the distance between them again. “Ember, please.”
She whirled to face him. “You said I became everything you wanted to be. Well, now you get to be the Empire pet your family always wanted. I hope you reach Empyrean quickly so I never have to see your face again.”
“You never wanted your powers anyway,” he said lamely, then slammed his eyes shut at the way his words sounded. Idiot. “Let me come with you, then. We’ll figure this out together.”
“Not together,” she interrupted. Her eyes were harder than he remembered, but he also detected a new pain he’d never seen before. “Never again. And this is exactly where you belong.”
With that, she took the last step into the shuttle and slammed her fist onto the door panel. The hatch slid shut.
Stefan stood there long after the shuttle had lifted away and shot off into the distance. Some part of his mind registered the Empire fighters that followed and eventually returned empty-handed. At some point he was escorted back to his quarters and placed under guard. But he didn’t see any of it, not really. All he saw was a dark-haired woman’s sharp eyes staring into his soul.
Not together. Never again.
Chapter 21
Your meal, Lady Flare,” a voice said from outside the door.
Ember didn’t answer. Getting out of bed to answer the door seemed like an inconceivable feat. If only her guards would leave her alone with her thoughts like she’d requested.
The guard knocked once more and waited a full minute. Then there was a clang as he set the tray down by her door and returned to his post. There was already a collection there from the past few days. She’d assumed it would be enough to deter visitors, but it didn’t appear to be the case.
She’d emerged only once for some food and water to find her guards leaping to their feet, one with a radio to his mouth, already reporting the activity. That had been enough for her. As formidable as they were for visitors, the guards were obviously there to make sure she didn’t wander off, either. It amused her they assumed she wanted to.
Neraline was right. There was no question. It was far easier than it had been in previous months for Ember to connect with her inner light. It felt like a lantern hovering over her shoulder, an ever-present heat she couldn’t quite ignore. And that incident in the lift—she still wasn’t quite sure what had happened.
Not only had her inner light taken control as Neraline predicted, it had done something Ember never believed possible. It was alarming. Even now she struggled to grasp the truth of it.
Her inner light had taken possession of her guards, too.
She strained to remember Neraline’s words, wishing with all her strength the woman were still here. She would know the signs. They could figure it out together, help Ember work through it all. Was this what her father had experienced as he began losing control? Had he felt this helpless as his own body, his own mind, was gradually taken over?
Stefan’s warning intruded again, insistent despite Ember’s attempts to push it away. He’d seemed so earnest as he explained the virus strain. Either he truly believed the lie or he’d become every bit the traitor she feared. How could her ability be a trait inherited from her father and also a virus? The two theories were far too different, too outlandish. Both couldn’t be right.
Was her gift truly from the stars or a simple virus, a test gone awry? Did it involve her genes or her soul?
The Empire had fed Stefan false information to manipulate her. That had to be it. He thought he was doing the right thing even as he joined them to “rescue” her. And yet—his expression when she’d rejected him.
An echo of that familiar pain sliced through her again. She’d gone to rescue him and save a group of flickers. She’d failed on both accounts. Badly. Stefan had even been right there, begging to come with her, and she’d pushed him away, just like everyone else.
But there was no denying he had called her gift a virus and tried to stop her from escaping. He wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. He’d turned back to the Empire like a child to an abusive parent, and now she had to pay the price for trusting him so completely.
The guard tapped at the door again.
“I’m not hungry,” she snapped.
“It’s me,” Mar said softly.
A few days before, Ember would have scanned the boats and pods that came near her building. But she refused to use her gift now unless absolutely necessary. She didn’t know what else to do. If her inner light took over again, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to fight her way back.
She rose and unbolted the door, then swung it open.
Mar only hesitated a moment before stepping inside. “This wasn’t my idea, you know.”
Of course it wasn’t. She’d driven Mar away weeks ago, just like Neraline. Because Ember was synonymous with pain. “Amai?”
“Yes. She’s concerned you haven’t been showing up for flicker training.”
Amai had been her first and only visitor for the past two days. At first she’d thanked Ember profusely for bringing Syd back safely. Then she’d asked for a report and received nothing but silence. Ember didn’t know how to explain her failure.
“They’ve been practicing on their own,” Mar continued, maintaining her distance and keeping her gaze solidly on the floor, “but there are so many new recruits, and everyone’s worried.” She hesitated. “What happened up there?”
Ember wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the question. She tried, but it came out more like a strangled croak. Where to start? Ember had failed to save the Union prisoners and the Empire flickers. She’d managed to free her team before they revealed the location of their base, but just barely. Another five minutes and they would have broken. It horrified her to think how closely they’d come to losing everything.
But the words that sprung from her mouth were the last ones she meant to say. “They turned Stefan.”
Mar’s eyes went wide, and she sunk into her usual chair. “Oh.”
<
br /> Ember didn’t expect her friend to gush, but she didn’t expect the silence that followed Mar’s soft exclamation, either. Then again, Mar had known and loved Stefan even longer than Ember. It filled a small portion of her empty heart to know her friend shared that pain.
“I heard Ruben got left behind,” Mar finally said. “You couldn’t find him in time?”
“He defected.” They’d just been a ride for Ruben, a means to an end that had little to do with the Daughter or the Union. And he’d even warned her on the ship that he would look after himself. Yet another failure Ember had walked right into.
“Here,” Mar said, pulling out a bag. She offered it to Ember. “These will cheer you up. They always work for me.”
Ember reached inside and pulled out a handful of tiny brown balls. “Nuts?”
“They aren’t from Earth. Cultivated in the second sector, I think. I got addicted to them when I was touring the area with my parents at age twelve. Try one. I swear they’re not unclean.” She grinned at the reference. One of their first conversations had been about what the Roma considered unclean meat. Mar was one of the few who’d attempted to understand Ember’s culture.
There was nothing left of that culture now. Did that still make Ember Roma, or was she a nameless wanderer? She was as unclean as the gadje these days. She barely paid attention to what she ate or who she touched. The old traditions felt so foolish sometimes. Was her village’s destruction a reason to shun her culture or embrace it a little more tightly?
Ember popped one into her mouth. Crunchy and a little sweet and somewhat familiar, though she couldn’t place it. Maybe she’d bought some off a tourist at some point in her childhood. She plucked a second from her hand and examined it. The tiny treats were shaped like walnuts, although they were tapered perfectly at both ends, like two bowls meeting to form a near-perfect circle.
A tapered circle. Just like Ruben’s strangely shaped shield.
She looked inwardly at her own shield. She’d fashioned it like everyone else—a box with her light in the center. It had several weak points due to its shape. She often caught the light of others as it leaked through at the corners. But perhaps if she changed its shape . . .
It took a few tries. Mar continued to chomp noisily on her nuts as Ember turned the box, changing it, willing her mind to accept this new shape. Finally she sat back in her chair, looking at the nut in her hands again. It was as close as she could make it.
“You going to stare at it or eat it?” Mar asked with her mouth full.
Ember ignored the question. “Do me a favor. I need you to try and get past my shield.”
Mar’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “What?”
“Just do it. Try your very hardest. See if you can slip past my defenses.”
Mar shrugged. Her eyes glazed over for a moment, and Ember felt pressure on her mind. The weight increased . . . and then disappeared.
With a frown, Mar tried again. This time the pressure was more intense, and Ember found herself struggling to hold the correct shape. She’d practiced the box-shaped shield for too long.
“Weird. It’s like my touch just slid off. Is that what you were looking for?” Mar reached into the bag and placed an entire handful of nuts into her mouth.
“Yes,” Ember muttered. So Ruben had devised a better way to protect his inner light. What else did that man know that she didn’t?
“I’m curious what you plan to do now,” Mar said, her mouth half full. “I mean, the Daughter wanted you to train her flickers, and you’re not doing it. She also wanted you to save the Empire flickers, and that didn’t turn out so well. Doesn’t seem like you have many reasons left to stay.”
You can’t go back to the Daughter, Stefan had said.
She knew not to trust the woman, and yet wasn’t that exactly what she had done for the past two weeks? Mar was right. Ember didn’t belong here. Whatever confidence had urged her to take down the Empire singlehandedly now lay shattered in a thousand pieces, and Stefan wasn’t there to help her pick them up. It was just Ember now. She had to figure this out alone.
If Ember left, she’d become an enemy of the Union. She’d have to fight her way out, which meant more violence. And she obviously couldn’t turn to the Empire. That meant she had to travel far away from this fight and leave both to their own victory or defeat. And considering what had occurred in the lift, Ember had to go alone. She was too dangerous right now.
“I don’t know what will happen,” Ember admitted.
Mar grinned. “Wait. The ever-powerful, lonely, and suffering flare just admitted she doesn’t know the future? That’s incredibly ironic.”
For the first time in days, Ember felt herself grin. “It does sound silly.”
“Well, if you’re worried, seems like there’s only one thing left to do. Read the future.”
“I can’t—”
“No, really. I did you a favor, so now you can help me. Do a quick reading.” She arranged herself so she sat cross-legged in her seat. “Tell me whether I get home and when, if you can. I don’t want to know anything else.”
Ember stared at her friend. “I want to help you, but I don’t think—I can’t . . .” She trailed off, letting an uncomfortable silence fall upon the room.
Mar frowned, squinting at Ember. “Something really messed with your head up there, didn’t it. You look absolutely shaken.” She paused. “Ember, please don’t push me away. You can’t do this alone. Maybe it will help to talk about it.”
Ember felt weary in mind and soul. She hadn’t slept well the past three nights, worrying that her inner light would take over again and she’d wake up imprisoned in her own body. Neraline was gone, and Stefan couldn’t be a part of her life anymore. She’d rejected Mar, yet here she was again, offering her a snack and a listening ear. Mar deserved so much better.
“You asked who I’d choose if forced,” Ember began. “Stefan or the Union.”
“And now Stefan’s gone, and you’re having second thoughts about being part of all this,” Mar said. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s pretty obvious.”
“If I stay, the Union will lose,” Ember said. “It’s too dangerous for me to be here. But if I leave, it will all have been for nothing. My entire village up in smoke, and Dai, and Bianca.”
Mar straightened in her chair. “You don’t have to know what happens in five years or even one. You just need to know your next step. And for that, you’ll need a flicker. May I?” She winked.
Ember blinked, then let her shield melt away. It felt strange after so many days of constant fighting to expose her inner light in such a way. She quickly tested it, but the light felt normal. Mar didn’t seem to be in any danger at the moment.
Mar sat rigidly for less than a minute. Then she let her shoulders slump and focused her gaze on Ember. “Hmm. I’ve never been good at reading very far in the future, I’m afraid. I caught a glimpse of Ruben. He’s going to become significant to you, I think. It’s almost like you’re paired up already, like there’s this connection between you. I don’t know how to explain it.”
Ember shifted in her seat. That wasn’t exactly helpful. She could run into Ruben anywhere now that he’d left the Union. And she had no desire for a connection with him, romantic or otherwise. She wouldn’t mind if she never saw the man again. “Thanks for trying.”
“Thanks for trusting me for once.” She softened her words with a playful grin and stood. “Well, I’m supposed to report to Amai right after I talk to you, so I’ll tell her not to get her pants in a knot.” She turned to leave.
“Mar?” Ember asked.
“Yep.”
She chose her words carefully. “If things go wrong here, steal a ship and go home. Don’t stay for me. I’m sure your family misses you.”
Her friend’s smile slipped, and Ember caught a glimpse of Mar’s loneliness beneath it. She was miserable here, and Ember hadn’t helped at all. She’d been too absorbed in her pain to see it.
Mar
nodded. “I just might. May the stars be with you.”
Ember stayed up late that night, mentally running through all the different escape possibilities. She’d have to steal a shuttle, obviously. But even if she did, she couldn’t fly it. And she didn’t want to steal food from the Union, not when they needed it so badly. Every bite of food she might bring with her could nourish a hungry child.
She finally flipped off the lights and crawled into bed, removing only her jacket. Despite her heavy thoughts, her eyelids dropped immediately and she felt herself falling into oblivion. She had almost succumbed completely when a gentle click sounded from across the room.
She tensed, sleep fleeing her mind at once. Had she bolted the door when Mar left? She couldn’t remember.
She reached for the stunner at her belt, then mentally kicked herself. She’d left it on the bathroom counter, far across the room.
The tiny squeak of a door, nearly undetectable. Ember would have never heard it had she been asleep. Whoever entered now closed the door behind them. She reached out inwardly—and met a rigid, impenetrable shield.
It was round.
Fear gripped Ember now, and she willed her body to move, to roll off the bed, to do anything. But all she could do was sit there and listen to the soft footsteps making their way toward her. Her mind raced. Ruben was an Empire prisoner now. Or had he betrayed her and come back as an assassin in the night?
She heard his breathing in the darkness now. He was only a few feet away, if she’d guessed correctly. Just a second or two—
There.
She sprang from the bed, sweeping the intruder with her leg. He let out a surprised yelp and hit the ground hard.
Ember sprinted to the wall and flipped the lights on, whirling toward the man on the floor. Ruben was climbing to his feet, a pained grimace on his face.
“How—why did you—” she began. The questions piled on top of one another, muddling together in her exhausted mind.
He grinned as if it were perfectly normal to sneak into a woman’s bedroom. “I escaped. Thought I’d surprise you.”