“Focus,” her Tai whispered as she snatched the coin from Dahlen’s hand and shoved it into Rhee’s palm. She’d made it clear—it annoyed her to no end that Dahlen was allowed to handle it as he did. The Fisherman shifted in irritation, passive-aggressively huffing in hopes they’d both be quiet. Despite his temperament, Rhee was thankful he was there.
After Rhee and Dahlen had rushed off Tinoppa in the wake of Seotra’s death, it was Tai Reyanna who’d found the Fisherman. She’d reached out to a network of what she called “unsavory characters,” seeking out the person capable of creating the mark on Rhee’s face. Enough bribes had led her to the Fisherman, and a small fortune commissioned him for a new job: a jailbreak. Though Dahlen suspected, after all, that the Fisherman did have political leanings, and that perhaps he was a loyalist.
This was Rhee’s trusted crew. She looked down at the coin in her hand. She didn’t believe in lucky charms, but she hoped it would save her life once more.
“As I was saying,” Tai Reyanna said, spinning back to face the holoprojection. They’d pieced together rumors from the Tais, known locations of safe houses from Dahlen’s contacts, strange gravitational disturbances according to the Fisherman’s research, and finally profiles on the people Nero had targeted for his horrific scheme to Ravage the scientists. Rhee knew there were answers and patterns, and that they would emerge, given time.
If they had the time. Nero’s droids were equipped with a soft plastic similar to the Fisherman’s. The droids had saved him, and Rhee thought bitterly that it was true—he always had a plan. His war effort had become even more aggressive. Attacks and retaliations had razed parts of both Kalu and Fontis, and deep-space combat was playing out between the two armadas just outside of Wraeta. Nero was angling to build an army, to make anyone with a cube his slave.
Tai Reyanna touched the holoscreen to enlarge a map of the universe. “I think we should follow the lead that puts Princess Josselyn on Derkatz,” she said, zooming in. “An allied Fontisian territory, too far out for Kalu to attack directly.”
“How many times have I told you?” the Fisherman insisted. With a flick of his hand he shifted the map to the other edge of the universe and zoomed in to nothing. “She’s in hypersleep, stored in a black hole here.”
“The intel isn’t dependable either way,” Dahlen said quickly. They’d been arguing for days. “What would you have us do, Princess?”
He turned to look at her with those cool gray eyes. He’d killed Seotra, for reasons that seemed perfectly justified and perfectly honorable to him. Rhee still mourned the former regent’s loss, and all the opportunities she’d squandered to learn about her family and the political machinations pushing her father off his own planet. There was a part of her that could never forgive Dahlen, though he hadn’t sought her forgiveness. And likewise, she’d never apologized for abandoning him in Navrum. The two of them were the same, relentlessly chasing down their vengeance. It was an understanding Rhee had with no one else.
And like her, Dahlen wished to be his highest self. But Rhee strove for honor because her ancestors looked on—whereas Dahlen did so because Vodhan saw his every move, knew of every intention in his heart, so he claimed. Which is why she wouldn’t ask Dahlen to break his vow and turn on his cube, no matter how desperate she was to know what memories were hidden deep in the folds of his brain.
Say you’re sorry. Rhee thought painfully of Joss, and how her mother had demanded they sit forehead to forehead and look one another in the eye until one of them was willing to apologize. And it was always Joss. It was never worth it to her to hold a grudge.
Say you’re sorry.
“I’d have us reprioritize,” Rhee said instead. The Fisherman and Tai Reyanna looked at her.
“What’s that now? Reprioritize?” the Fisherman asked.
Rhee was scared. Scared she’d lose her sister forever, if she hadn’t already. Scared what everyone would think of her, and what she’d think of herself. But there were choices to make.
As empress you must be fair, but decisive, her father had said. Not to her, but to Josselyn.
But Princess Josselyn was lost, and it could take weeks or months or years to find her. And the galaxy needed her now.
Dahlen nodded, very slightly.
“I have to come forward and take the throne,” she said. Get up, she heard Josselyn say, an echo from all those years ago. Get up. “I’ll find Josselyn. But first I have to stop the war.”
EPILOGUE
KARA
IT was market day on Nau Fruma, but there were twice as many vendors as there were patrons. Kara scanned the monochromatic landscape of browns as far as the eye could see, wondering if they’d come to the right place. It didn’t seem like a hotbed of secrets and intrigue.
“I imagined it differently,” she admitted. But it was only a small town with a modest palace that looked more like a large house on a hill. Surrounding them were flat desert plains, and in the distance a sunken volcano crater. Crown’s Rock, she thought it was called. Had she seen that on the holos once?
“I guess I thought it would be a little more lively, too,” Aly said, wiping the sweat off his forehead just under the duhatj. He streaked pale dust across his brow like war paint.
They walked side by side. Kara could still feel the heat of his lips—how he’d cupped the back of her head and pulled her in, how the rest of her body followed and she’d felt the muscles of his chest against her own. They didn’t hold hands. It felt too weird. But when his arm brushed hers, it was like electricity shooting up her skin. Pavel wheeled a few steps behind them like some old-timey chaperone.
“The region has been economically depressed for some time, as it has no major exports to speak of,” the droid said. His tire treads left a trail in the dust behind him. “Rhodium mines were tapped several decades ago. The area was sustained mainly on tourism when Princess Rhiannon resided here, but in the last few weeks, the region has seen an all-time low.”
“Well, at least people are minding their own business,” Aly pointed out. “Not a bad place for some criminals on the run and a smart-ass droid,” he added quietly.
Why here? Kara wanted to ask her mom. In fact, there were a lot of things she wanted to ask. Who am I? Where do I come from? Why did you lie to me?
But there was no time for dwelling on her past. She needed to focus and find the Lancer, whoever he was. Find out about this other family and about the nightmares.
Part of her was sure they couldn’t be real. Especially the one that had always come back to her—whipping through the air wildly, clawing at nothing and afraid the rushing wind would tear off every limb. It wasn’t real. Even if the whoosh in her ears and the scream caught in her throat felt like a memory, it couldn’t have been real.
Whenever it started to feel like too much she remembered what Aly had said. I’m not going anywhere.
The most crowded part of the market was near the center, where dozens of people had gathered before a shrine to Princess Rhiannon. They’d left drawings of her and wrote letters—all on real paper. Flowers, berries, painted rocks, and knitted dolls too. Even sticky candies that had melted in the heat were scattered among the things.
“How’s she going to eat those candies if she’s dead?” a little boy asked his mom.
Kara looked away, her head foggy—like a migraine was coming on.
“You two want a tour?” a kid asked them. He looked a couple of years younger than her, and two oversized teeth crowded the front of his mouth. He led them from the market aisle and brought them around the back end of a row of tents. “A thousand credits each and I’ll take you to see the Ta’an palace up by—”
He didn’t finish his sentence.
Another boy lunged out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground. He rolled on top and got off a few punches as the first boy blocked his face and wailed. Dust rose up and surrounded them like a c
loud.
“Hey!” Kara stomped in between them and pulled the second boy off. He had blue eyes and sandy hair. He flailed some more and even tried to throw a jab in her direction, but as soon as he got a look at Kara, he stopped and wiggled out of her grip.
“Take it easy,” Aly said from the sidelines. “You did the job. He’s down and he’s bleeding.”
The first boy, with the badger teeth, pushed himself up and ran. “Screw you, Julian,” he called over his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Kara asked.
He looked up at her for so long, Kara wondered if they knew each other. “The palace has been looted,” he said, a quickness to his words. The Nau Fruman accent seemed familiar to her, like a song she knew the lyrics to once. “There’s nothing left to see.”
“Lancer!” a woman called in the distance. The boy briefly glanced behind him but didn’t make a move to leave. He had the palest blue eyes Kara had ever seen.
“Lancer?” Kara asked. The mention of the name sent her pulse racing.
“Cool name,” Aly said to the kid. His voice was casual, but Kara had felt him stiffen.
“It’s all right. They named me after my dad. I used to hate it, but—” The kid stopped himself. He’s named after his dad. “Anyway, I don’t go by that name anymore.”
Kara’s head started to pound, a beat like a war drum. Suddenly she wanted to break this kid open and spread out all of his secrets. This was why her mom sent her here—to find this boy’s father. It was uncanny. She believed in fate. She would pray to any and all ancestors, whoever they were. “Does he work far away?” Kara asked.
“He died,” the kid answered. Kara thought to say sorry, but she didn’t know if that would make it worse. “He was on the Eliedio.”
The Eliedio. It was Princess Rhiannon’s ship. Kara met Aly’s eye, speechless. Not knowing what to say, she tried the truth. “I know how that feels. I lost my mom,” she said. The boy wouldn’t meet her eyes, but Kara knew he was listening. “It sucks. It sucks that she won’t be there whenever I wake up from a nightmare. Or that I’ll never hear her laugh again. And that she’ll never, ever tell me what to do—even though I hated it when she told me what to do.”
She could feel Aly’s eyes on her, but there was no one else in the world apart from her and this other boy. His floppy hair and his sad blue eyes that finally—finally—looked back up at her. He wasn’t much younger.
“And on top of her being gone, it’s like I’m not allowed to be mad at her.” Kara wanted to scream and cry, and she wanted to die sometimes too. She went on, this confession pouring out of her to a teenage kid who’d lost his hero, too, maybe. “But you keep it all bottled up, not for yourself, really, but so no one else has to deal with it. Until you get to fight someone. I bet it feels good for a second. But then that pain comes back bigger, sharper, like it’s edging out all your organs.”
The boy shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked even younger then. “Do I know you?” he asked.
“Maybe?” Kara said, genuinely wondering; they were connected somehow. “I feel like we might. We could. But let me ask you something . . .” She pulled her coin from her pocket. “Do you recognize this coin? Maybe your dad had one like it?”
The boy’s mouth puckered. He glared at the coin—then at Kara. “What’s your game?” he asked. “Is this some knockoff?”
“Knockoff?” Aly asked. “Hold up, do you recognize this thing?”
But the boy didn’t answer. He just lunged for the coin, and Aly had to grab his bony body and swat him down onto the ground. He held him there as the boy thrashed, like he was possessed. But he had nothing on Aly’s arm span. “You stole that from the Princess!” He spit out the word Princess.
“I didn’t,” Kara said. “I swear. My mom gave it to me.” Of all the people in the world she didn’t want to disappoint, it was this boy. They’d understood each other. Hadn’t they?
“It’s Rhee’s!” he yelled. “It was made for her. One for her and one for her sister!”
One for her sister.
“Ancestors.” Kara stumbled backward. Thudding in her skull. Was that the sound of her feet pounding, or the pulse of her headache? She was twirling and running, kicking up moondust.
A dream or a memory? She didn’t know . . .
“Kara. We gotta go. What am I supposed to do?” Aly asked, but his voice was far away. So was the kid’s.
She knew why she’d been sent here. Why everything felt so familiar.
Kara looked up to the palace. She remembered the two little girls, thick black braids down their backs. Playing tag. Laughing and yelling, the younger girl trying to outrun the older one.
The pain in her head crescendoed, and just when Kara thought she’d pass out, it broke like a fever. There was a cool, calm clarity that she hadn’t felt in years. She blinked.
“What’s happening to you?” Aly’s voice said. “Kara, you’re scaring me. I don’t know what to do . . .”
She clutched the coin in her hand.
The girls were the princesses. This was their vacation home. They were sisters.
And the older one? Josselyn Karatana Ta’an. That was her.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
TIFFANY Liao, the most exceptional editor, who held my hand and/or called me out at every step along the way; I need you always. Jess Harriton, you godsend, for the smartest margin comments a girl could ask for. Ben Schrank, for taking a chance—thank you. Razorbill, you’re incredible. Aurora Parlagreco for a cover beyond my wildest dreams. Thank you to Amanda Mustafic and all the amazing people on the Penguin sales, marketing, and publicity teams who worked on this book.
Lauren Oliver, for your expertise and tough love. Thank you for finding the story when I couldn’t. Kamilla Benko and Alexa Wejko, my respective fantasy and sci-fi queens, I don’t know how I lived a day before meeting you. Tara Sonin, for helping me remember the pure sweetness of fandom. Adam Silvera, who tirelessly advocates for me and so many others. Angela Velez, for your insight and fierce expectations. And to the rest of the Inkwell and Paper Lantern Lit teams: Stephen Barbara, Lexa Hillyer, and Diana Sousa, you are everything.
Beth Revis, Kiersten White, Kami Garcia—your support is immense. Thanks for your time and love.
My Macmillan family—Erin Stein, Nicole Otto, Natalie Sousa, Ellen Duda, and Ashley Woodfolk—for letting me read, edit, and chat endlessly about great books.
Dr. Christopher Gutiérrez, for your incomprehensible scientific genius. Kristina Pérez, for your incredibly dexterous mind. Pam Gruber and Mike Braff: your kind words saved me in the darkest of times while writing my umpteenth draft. Luis Martínez, you knew I had a book in me long before I did. To my honorary sister Marie Martínez, for your early read and your honest thoughts. And to Alana, for your boundless heart.
To my Ate, obviously. Jasy, for being the best person I know. Kuya, whose initial love of sci-fi sparked my own. Ellie, for being so open and kind and constantly amused. Juan and Julian, for making me laugh and bringing my sister so much joy. The boys, Mason and Logan, for your sense of humor and your strong sense of self. Dad, for your infinite patience as I crash landed through life—I love you. Mom, whose soul is spread across these thousand skies—I know you’re giving me the side eye because this book is weird and maybe doesn’t make sense. I miss you.
And finally to Kyle and your big, beautiful brain—this book wouldn’t exist without you.
What’s next on
your reading list?
Discover your next
great read!
* * *
Get personalized book picks and up-to-date news about this author.
Sign up now.
ve.
Empress of a Thousand Skies Page 25