by Rebecca Rode
“Every single passenger. Except you, don’t worry. But yes, I took it upon myself to make sure we didn’t have any other Empire sympathizers. The others are doing the same thing on their ships. Secretly, of course.”
“That’s . . .” Rude. Violating. Brilliant. “What did you find?”
“Everyone’s afraid, and some question the wisdom of joining, but no spies. It’s what we saw in their future that may interest you.” She paused for effect. “Two futures, to be precise. In the first, a third of the company gets captured by the vanguard. They find out too late that the vanguard isn’t in a net formation, after all, but a series of rope formations—a giant circle around this entire sector group and closing in toward the middle. They discover that Helden Farr has already been destroyed just as they’re captured.”
He couldn’t help gaping. Whatever he’d expected her to say, it wasn’t this. “You said a third of the company. What about the other two-thirds?”
“We go to the giant planets in sector two.”
Stefan went rigid. “Two?” That was where the emperor resided and one of the most dangerous areas in the realm. It also happened to be where Ember was, but that had to be a coincidence. “We would never move everyone there. It isn’t safe.”
“Apparently we’ll change course soon. An order issued by you.”
Now she had his attention. His mind kept rejecting her words. Why would he mobilize to such a dangerous sector? That made sense only if they planned one final, decisive battle against the Empire. Did it have something to do with Ember and her meeting? Or was Reina just trying to confuse Stefan in order to take control of the ship? Ember trusted Reina, but Stefan never had. The girl was too unpredictable.
Reina seemed to see Stefan’s suspicion, because she rolled her eyes. “You can read me if you’re so determined to be stubborn. Just don’t be creepy about it.”
Stefan wanted to wave it all off, to pretend like Reina hadn’t walked in and dropped a bomb in his lap. But Ember was in sector two, a fact he couldn’t ignore. If there was indeed a connection there, he had to find out what. And reading Reina was better than invading the privacy of others. He nodded.
She withdrew her shield, allowing him in.
A minute later, he pulled away and sat back in his chair. Her shield was already back up. Reina still scowled, probably regretting her choice to leave herself so vulnerable to a near stranger.
It was true. This ship, along with a good percentage of the others, would change course and head for the center of the Empire. And all that would happen upon his order. “Why didn’t you bring this to the cabinet instead of me?”
“Because this is the way it has to happen,” Reina said with a shrug. “And they wouldn’t listen to me.”
That much was true. General Pyne in particular disliked her, and his opinion usually swayed half the cabinet by itself. Stefan thought back to something he’d seen in Reina’s memories. “You’ve been sneaking supplies. Tell me why.”
Reina’s cheeks pinked. “I’ve already discussed this with Ember. I haven’t done it since then.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She locked her gaze on the door. “Because they were starving and I owed them a favor.”
“Why would you owe that family a favor, Reina? Who are they? You can tell me.”
She turned to look him in the eye. “The family of my fiancé.”
Stefan knew about the fiancé. Ember had mentioned it once, and he’d kept it in the back of his mind. But he still didn’t understand.
Reina hesitated but went on. “They were supposed to be my in-laws. And I owed them because . . .” She swallowed. “Because I’m the one who recruited them. If I hadn’t talked them into joining, he’d still be alive and we’d be bonded by now.” The splotchy pink in her cheeks had turned into a bright, fiery red.
Now it all made sense. “You can’t blame yourself any more than you can blame Ember. War is a terrible thing. My grandmother used to say war is a cannibalistic monster—the only way to conquer it is to feed it more of itself.”
As a boy, Stefan loved tales of monsters. They had never scared him until adulthood, when he realized how terrifyingly real monsters were. They just manifested in different ways than he’d imagined as a boy. And now he was supposed to help lead a revolution intended for battle.
“Well, apparently we’re going to feed that monster one whopper of a meal.” Reina swung her legs around and stood.
Stefan spoke before she could leave. “You’re also the one who asked Med Farrsini to take away your flicker powers.”
Reina groaned and looked longingly at the door. “I told you not to get creepy. You weren’t supposed to look that far back.”
“I didn’t. Those two things are on your mind a lot. It was impossible to miss them. So you felt guilty about your fiancé’s death and decided to rid yourself of your flicker abilities?”
She snorted and headed for the door. “No. I’m just sick of it all—the fighting, the deaths, the orders and missions. I just want to travel around for fun and not have to disguise myself or pretend to be something I’m not. Like happy.” She pulled the door open. “Anyway, I just thought you should know what I saw. The others were too afraid to tell you. It doesn’t make any difference to me.”
Doesn’t make any difference? The girl pretended to be so uncaring, but deep down she had a good heart and rock-solid courage. “Thank you.”
She turned to face him, fingers on the door handle. “I wasn’t joking about Ember, though. Crazy or not, there’s going to be two battles—a big one involving us, and a small one involving her. I think you’re supposed to be where she is.”
Stefan’s grandmother had been a flicker. She’d predicted Ember’s role in his life, but she’d also predicted his role in hers. Stefan was meant to help her reshape the universe.
It’s really going to happen, he realized. It wasn’t just a prediction. He’d spent so many hours encouraging Ember, stoking her courage and building her up for the feat he believed would someday happen. But this was it. Ember was really going to succeed. And it sounded like he was supposed to bring the revolution with him.
“If you managed to convince the cabinet,” Reina said, pulling the door open, “I bet we could hide pretty well on Ulysses II while you snuck off to Kollander to find her. We’d have to rig a comms unit so you could call us when it’s time for the monster to, uh, eat itself. And you’d only be a few days behind Ember. Hypothetically speaking, of course.” She stepped through the door.
“Hold on,” he said, his mind still whirling. “There’s another reason you told me all this, isn’t there?”
The girl paused and swept her ponytail over her shoulder. She gave him a long look, as if uncertain whether to say what she was thinking. Finally, she sighed. “Because in a huge universe like this, light is hard to come by. When you find some, you hold on to it and refuse to let go.”
Chapter 16
Ember knew the city planets were big—sector two was nicknamed the giant cluster for a reason—but nothing could have prepared her for the scene that spread before her as she walked out of the station. Thin buildings shot upward into the distant sky like narrow, window-lined plates, each extending several blocks until they were one massive grid of steel and concrete. A tiny street cut in between the buildings. The transport cars on it faced the same direction, but all currently sat at a standstill. There were no sidewalks.
“Ground travel here is restricted to cargo only,” Sa’Kahn said as she passed Ember and turned left down the walkway. “Follow me.”
Two blocks down, the buildings opened up to an even smaller road with only pedestrians. Ember nervously pulled at her white wig, even though nobody seemed to be looking at her. They’d powdered her face to give her that Albine look. It made her sneeze and look forward to the moment she could remove it.
Individual flying transports darted haphazardly between the buildings overhead. Two women came within centimeters of hitting each
other, then swerved at the last second. Ember gulped. “There are no transportation laws here?”
“There are, but they’re impossible to enforce. The Empire pretends not to notice. Lawbreakers tend to kill themselves off eventually anyway. Just watch your head.” Sa’Kahn strode down the center of the road, looking calm as ever. Ember, on the other hand, couldn’t contain her nervousness.
It felt so strange to be away from Stefan, as if they’d been together far longer than a few months. He had become a part of her—the person she longed to speak with after a hard day, the man she yearned to encircle her in his arms when she was cold. He made her smile when no one else could and kept her problems in perspective.
And his kiss. He lit her skin on fire with a single look. Stars, the man knew how to affect her.
Sa’Kahn’s silent companions flanked Ember on either side, feigning disinterest while simultaneously scanning the pedestrian-filled street for danger. Ember tried to count the floors of the buildings above her and gave up at a hundred.
Her guide slowed to walk beside her. “You have too many expressions for an Albine. Keep your gaze low and smooth.”
Ember nodded and obeyed, but inside her heart raced. The contacts they’d given her masked the darkness of her eyes, and the wig hid her black hair, which she’d pulled into the twist Mar had shown her, but it was hard to pretend she wasn’t affected by the sights before her. So many people. This was one of the oldest planets in the Empire, one of the first conquered by the original emperor several generations before. The city builders must have gotten right to work and been building ever since.
Forty minutes later, the group entered what looked like a historical district. The structures were only a few dozen floors high, their exteriors holding the flaking remains of brightly colored paint. Albine culture was at least preserved here, despite the rundown conditions. Sa’Kahn ducked into an alley, plastering herself against the wall, her somber companions and Ember following suit.
Sa’Kahn tapped her heavy gold bracelet and whispered into it. Ember couldn’t hear a reply, but the woman nodded, then strode deeper into the alley and ducked into the shadows. “Follow me, please.”
Ember struggled to see in the darkness between buildings. It felt like midnight despite the fact it was still early evening. They soon reached a short structure near the end. The outside had once been a colorful stacked stone that was now half destroyed.
“The cultural museum,” Sa’Kahn whispered as she reached the door. She slid her bracelet along the opening between the door and the frame. After a second of silence, the door swung open.
“This is our guesthouse,” Sa'Kahn explained, making no move to go in. “You will sleep here tonight as you await your meeting with Er’len tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. Of course the resistance leader wouldn’t see her immediately. If the man ran as large an operation as Sa’Kahn indicated, he was incredibly busy. Ember was just another factor in a complicated dance of issues.
Sa’Kahn watched her patiently, and Ember realized she was meant to go in alone. She reached out inwardly and sensed that the closest lights consisted of a few clustered groups on all three sides of the building. The guesthouse was empty.
As always, Sa’Kahn seemed to know what Ember was thinking. “We have several patrols along the outer walls. Their only job is to ensure your safety. Sleep wherever you feel comfortable and await our return in the morning. Another guest is scheduled to arrive then.”
Another guest. They sure know how to make a girl feel important, she thought dryly. At least it meant Sa’Kahn and her companions could return to their homes and sleep in their own beds tonight. They’d waited patiently as guests in her own settlement. Now she was on the receiving end of their “hospitality.”
As Ember bid them goodbye and stepped inside, the door slid closed behind her with a startling snap that sent her pulse racing.
The small room was dark and cold and smelled of dust. Ember suppressed a sneeze as she looked around, noting the old cupboards with torn labels along one wall. Covered in a messy pile of torn papers and books, a sturdy desk was propped in the far corner. A broken tablet sat atop the pile. An office space. She imagined museum workers entering here and checking themselves in.
The room exited into a narrow corridor that dead-ended at a larger one. She followed it deeper into the building until she came to a tall-ceilinged display room. Dimly lit by a filthy skylight, it was a perfect square with several glass boxes lining the walls. Or what had once been glass. The display boxes had been shattered long ago, anything of worth gone. There were only bits of cloth and a couple of old paper books left. Interesting that this building held so many books when they were an Earthen tradition. Even Albines enjoyed their entertainment, it seemed.
Ember ran her fingers absently over the metal frame that once contained this planet’s most priceless historical treasures. Had the Empire closed the museum because it was irrelevant, or had it become irrelevant because of the Empire? What had life been like here before the emperor decided to add this planet to his collection? Maybe that was what Er’len wanted to discuss with her—restoring culture to these people and their concrete lives.
“Pardon me, flare,” a deep voice said from the doorway.
Ember leaped into the air and scrambled behind the display case, practically leaving her heart behind.
The bearded man laughed and stepped inside, his face still dark in shadow. His head barely cleared the top of the doorway, and his shoulders brushed the sides. His voice was extremely deep. “I arrived early, and Sa’Kahn said to come find you and introduce myself. Didn’t mean to startle you. My apologies.”
Her heart still racing from the scare, Ember stood but kept the case between them. Just because he’d name-dropped Sa’Kahn didn’t mean he was telling the truth. “Usually introductions require a name.”
“True. I’d rather not give it yet, if you don’t mind. I’m not sure what you’d do with that information.” He stepped into the column of light from above. Ember’s heart rate picked up a notch. The man was huge, with wide shoulders, and was obviously physically fit. His skin was the same deep brown as Ember’s clan chief, Talpa. If not for the height, their build was the same. But there was one aspect of his appearance that gripped Ember. He had bright-red hair and a neatly trimmed reddish beard. She’d seen this man before.
She reached out internally to probe his shield. It was solid, but that was no surprise. He moved with the grace of a soldier and the confidence of an officer. But why would Sa’Kahn go to all the trouble of bringing Ember here if she could have delivered Ember to the Empire days before? And why this man in particular, alone?
“You know who I am,” Ember said, “so you aren’t exactly convincing me to trust you.”
A deep chuckle came from the man’s chest, although he remained in the light so she could see him. “You’re right. Let’s just say I was surprised to receive the summons from Er’len, considering my background. You seem uncomfortable with my presence here. Perhaps it would be best if I moved to a different room.”
A different room? The man was trying to keep her off balance, but she refused to let him rattle her. “You may stay for now.” At least this way she’d know where he was and not have to worry about him sneaking up on her.
“Oh. Why, thank you.” That amused smile again, as if he thought her behavior funny.
“You’re an Empire officer. Tell me why you’re here.”
He raised his massive reddish eyebrows. “I was an officer. Quite high, in fact. I left when His Powerful Highness felt it necessary to murder anyone who didn’t agree with his new direction.”
A chill gripped Ember, and she pulled her jacket more tightly around her. “His Powerful Highness?”
“The emperor’s title. Even makes his mistresses call him that. Sounds less powerful than the alternative, but then, he didn’t ask my opinion.” The man headed for a pile of furniture against the wall and teste
d his weight on a chair. It collapsed immediately, sending him to the floor. He rose, frowning, and tried the next.
“So you’ve turned against him and agreed to meet with the resistance.” Ember still wasn’t ready to trust the man, even though he was keeping his distance. “What is it you want to accomplish?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Two chairs were broken now. He shook the rubble off an old metal table with a crash, then dusted it off with an old tablecloth, though it didn’t do much good since it was also dirty. Finally the man sat atop that, the metal creaking under his weight.
That was all he had to say? Or maybe he didn’t trust her any more than she trusted him. They could be meeting Er’len for completely different reasons. Maybe he was undercover for the Empire, looking for a chance to assassinate the famous resistance leader.
“You were a high commander,” Ember said, suddenly recalling where she’d seen him before. The coronation. He was a witness to the Daughter’s demise. “I remember now.”
The man gripped the edge of the table and leaned forward, making it creak again. “The highest. My name is Theon Zandar. I was once the emperor’s most trusted advisor. And you’re Ember, the gypsy His Eminence was so excited to find. He thought you would win him the war. Like everyone else, I watched you defeat His Powerful Highness with great interest.”
The memories of that day were but wisps of emotion and color now. The audience scrambling for the doors after she released them. Ruben challenging her. Ember releasing her inner shadow and nearly losing herself in the process. Stefan’s kiss. She’d chosen to preserve herself and escape rather than finish Ruben off. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened had she killed him and taken the throne. Could she have implemented the changes she so desperately wanted, or would she have been killed and replaced by another?
It didn’t matter now. Ruben was alive and determined to end this war—his own flickers sitting where the emperor’s high commanders once had. And only Ember could threaten that goal.