Lira stood up now and made her way through the final tunnel that led to the queen’s private quarters, doing her best to catch her breath and smooth out the wrinkled folds of her dress as she walked.
The rock floor was cool on her bare toes, the flickering blue torches lighting her way like old, familiar friends waving hello. But it didn’t feel like a homecoming anymore.
It felt like a death march.
Lira passed others from her past as she walked: a horned woman who was the Rhymore seamstress. A retired Guardian who’d moved from Tenebris to become one of Lira’s tutors. Some looked surprised that she had returned. Others—not fully given over to the idea of harmony—stared or glared or asked why she’d come back after all these years.
At long last, Queen Alara’s private quarters came into view. The massive oak doors, at least two stories tall and handmade by crafters from Aramaeia, stood closed at the end of the tunnelway.
Two Sentinels, both with the same golden emblems that Lon bore on his chest, stood waiting, stone staffs clutched in their fists.
The doors swung open as Lira approached, creaking and groaning beneath their own weight.
And there the queen was, waiting inside, her attention focused on a glowing screen in her lap.
Alara was beautiful in every sense of the word, inside and out. She had a lithe frame, perfectly proportioned, and no scales on her skin. Her posture was elegant, one she always seemed to hold without effort.
Lira had always admired Alara’s beauty, but it paled in comparison to the woman’s intelligence.
She was seated on a moss-covered bench beside a small window carved out of the mountainside. Wind trickled in through diamond-shaped holes, letting in just enough light to make it seem as if Alara were glowing.
The queen who feared none, but loved all.
“You asked to see me?”
Lira’s voice shook a little as she entered the large space, stepping past the old woven tapestries hanging on the walls and the twisting vines that curled all around, covering even the domed rock ceiling far overhead.
“Lirana,” the queen said without looking up. “Please, do come in.” She continued scrolling through the holoscreen on her lap, tapping away in a cadence that reminded Lira of a small, pecking bird.
Lira swallowed, then steeled herself.
She was the pilot of the Marauder, and despite the fact that her ship went down unexpectedly—not her fault—and despite the fact that she’d damned an entire field of crops to ashen waste—partially her fault—and despite the fact that she absolutely did not want to be here...she would accept the consequences.
She swept farther into the room with her shoulders rolled back, stopping just before the queen of Adhira.
She knew how this would go. So before Alara could speak, Lira opened her mouth to explain.
But the queen held up a palm.
Silence hung between them.
Frustration wiggled at Lira’s senses, like a worm trying to sneak its way into her skull. She gritted her teeth. Clenched her fists.
Then, finally, Alara looked up to meet her eyes. “I’ve just had a rather unfortunate conversation with Valen Cortas, the poor, tortured soul, so spare me whatever dramatic greeting you must have prepared.”
Lira’s mouth dropped open as Alara stood. “Valen is awake?”
The queen nodded. “It’s always interesting when you’re around. Welcome back, my young niece. It’s been a very, very long time.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
* * *
LIRA
LIRA’S KNEES SHOOK.
How, after all the things she’d seen in this galaxy, after all the things she had done and the enemies she had faced, did her loving, beautiful, stars-forsaken aunt manage to make her feel fear?
“You left,” Alara said, “without a word to me. You tricked my Sentinels. You boarded a ship with an outsider crew full of men and women I did not know, from a rogue planet I have not visited, and decided to take up a life where the only updates I had on you were the wanted posters appearing in my bi-moonly feeds.”
Somehow, though Alara was still seated, her voice soft and calm and even, Lira felt as if she were being screamed at while she cowered against a wall.
“It wounded my heart, Lirana,” her aunt continued, all the while keeping her emerald eyes on Lira. “But what wounded me more was to watch your brother walking through the halls here as if he were searching for a ghost. After all the two of you had suffered through together, you chose to leave him here alone.”
That was it, then.
Each word was worse than a stab to Lira’s gut.
But she’d known this was coming. She prepared herself for this speech, year after year. It was why she had not returned home since leaving to seek out a life piloting starships. It was why Andi had agreed not to take any jobs on Adhira.
Because she understood the pain of facing the past.
Andi and Dex had had their conversation. Now it was Lira’s turn.
“I have offered you my title, many times over,” Alara said. Still staring, still speaking with that calm, even, queenly tone. Lira looked at her toes. “I have offered you a life of safety and comfort inside this very mountain, where you could have had everything you ever wanted. And what is more, Lirana, you could have all of Adhira at your fingertips. An entire planet full of people for you to call your own. To protect. To rule.”
“But that’s the point!” Lira hissed, then blinked in surprise, shocked that her voice had simply slipped out. But now that the dam had broken, she couldn’t stop it. “I don’t want your stupid title. I don’t want to rule. I don’t want to look after an entire planet full of people.” She took a deep breath, and finally looked her aunt in the eyes. “I love you, but I don’t want to be you.”
And there they were.
The words Lira had held in her chest for so long, ever since her aunt had begun grooming her for the position. Alara had never been able to have children of her own, but when her sister had stopped caring for Lira and Lon, Alara had become their sole guardian.
And Alara thought she’d found her heir.
She’d wanted to share her world with Lira, every animal, plant and person living and breathing throughout it.
But it was too damned much.
I don’t want the title. I don’t want the job. I don’t want the responsibility.
I want to soar through the stars. I want to navigate through nebulas. I want to fly my ship so close to a black hole that the fear nearly shakes the bones from my body. And then I want to overcome it.
All of those things, Lira had already said.
But this?
This, she had never had the guts to share with her aunt.
Alara nodded slowly, as if she were mulling over Lira’s words.
She stood, pressing a button on the small silver band wrapped around her thin wrist. Moments later, the double doors to her chambers opened, and a Sentinel walked in.
Lira’s heart sank.
Lon.
He smiled apologetically at Lira as he walked past, his eyes downcast as he took up his place beside their aunt.
“I have loved you as if you were my own daughter,” Alara finally said. “After all these years, Lirana, and even with the pain your brother and I have endured from your absence...I still consider you a piece of my heart. A vital part of this planet.” She looked sideways at Lon. “Show her.”
“Show me what?” Lira asked.
With a deep sigh, Lon held up a glowing screen.
On it was a photograph of Lira, smiling as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She knew that photograph. It was from her Efflorescence Ceremony. Her gown was beautiful, the fabric like an elegant flowing stream, in every shade of blue she could imagine. Lira stood before a sunset, her face aglow with both a smile and the even
ing light. Lon stood beside her in the image, his arm draped over her shoulders. His own smile matching hers.
“This is a photograph of a girl who once loved her home and her family,” Alara said. “This is the daughter I raised.” She stared at the image, smiling sadly.
“I still love you!” Lira yelped. She could feel her scales heating again, and she willed the emotions away. “I have never stopped loving you. But I’m not the same girl anymore,” she pleaded. “I never have been, Alara. It’s as if during my entire life here, I was...playing a part. For you. Not for me.”
Alara nodded, and Lon chewed on his bottom lip, worrying away at the skin until Lira feared it would bleed.
“You have always been a dreamer,” Alara said. “I have known it since you were born. I don’t know what sort of web you’ve gotten yourself tangled up in, but I know that with General Cortas involved, I fear for your safety.”
At the mention of his name, Lira raised a brow.
“He’s a good leader, but his honesty, and his methods, are questionable at best. Nevertheless, he has been in constant communication with me, and I with him, since the very first time your wanted posters appeared on the feeds.”
“I’m sorry,” Lira said.
She truly was. For the shame it brought upon her aunt. For the worry she must have caused both Alara and Lon.
“I know of the plans he has for you, and the rest of the—” she took a deep, shuddering breath “—the crew you have aligned yourself with. If you succeed in your mission to return Valen Cortas home, General Cortas has promised you a full pardon of your crimes. Has he not?”
Lira nodded.
“I would like to offer you something else, as well.” Her aunt turned to Lon, who tapped something onto his screen and turned it back around so Lira could see it.
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her skull.
“For years now, I have been in talks with the other planetary leaders about their own starfleets. It’s something I should have acted on long ago. And ever since Valen Cortas was stolen by a Xen Pterran rogue force, I realized that Adhira needs a stronger presence in the sky, stars forbid they strike again, on this planet—or if anything should ever happen to return us to that black pit of war.” She tapped two fingertips to her forehead and whispered a silent prayer to the Godstars. “I love you, Lirana. I always have. You have wounded me. You have betrayed my trust. But we are family, by blood, bound to this planet by duty, whether you see it that way or not.”
Lira nodded again, still staring at what was on the screen.
“And so, through many negotiations with General Cortas, I am able to offer you this.”
She pointed at the screen.
On it was an official document stating that Lirana Mette would become the pilot of a new Adhiran Skyback Explorer.
It was the fastest model in the Mirabel Galaxy. The most advanced. Plenty of cargo space, plenty of room to gather and collect and return home with whatever she pleased. Plenty of room for weapons, something Alara had never, in all her years ruling Adhira, truly condoned.
The ship, sleek and beautiful, was the most desired by anyone who knew anything about ships. It wasn’t even available on the public market yet.
“You would reside in Rhymore alongside your brother and me,” Alara said. “You would, of course, have to work without wages for a year to pay for the ruined crops from your recent crash landing. And I would ensure that you enter pilot’s mechanical training, with the very best in the field, so that you do not repeat your mistakes again. You will also work to control your energy output when faced with strong emotions, as I have always insisted. It’s clear you have not maintained that practice on your journeys. After you agree to my terms, you are free to pilot this ship. We trade with several of the planets across Mirabel. You would be the one traveling there, with Lon at your side, and a handful of others, to collect and deliver goods. And in case the need should ever arise...you would help train other pilots to protect this planet.”
Lon stepped up beside Lira and spoke. “It will be yours, Lir. Your ship. You’d pilot it for good. For Adhira. For us. And I would be with you on your adventures! It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, Lira.”
Lira felt herself spiraling into a deep, dark space.
There were so many memories here. Of her childhood, the pain of her mother leaving her, the feeling that there would be no one to care for her and Lon. Then the rescue, when their aunt brought them into her mountain fortress. Into her heart and her waiting arms.
This was a chance to set things right with Alara and Lon. This was a chance to come home, and still do what she loved most.
No leading the planet. No title other than pilot.
Hell, she didn’t even have to captain the ship if she didn’t want to. Someone else could make those choices, and she’d simply keep her hands on the wheel, her eyes on the sky.
Everything inside of her begged her to accept.
But then her aunt’s words filtered back through. Lira glanced up at the two standing before her. “You said General Cortas was involved. That you were...negotiating with him?”
Lon bit his lip again. This time, the blood broke through. A tiny bead of delicate, springtime sky blue.
“The offer only stands this once,” Alara said. She seemed to stand taller. “On the stipulation that you remove yourself from the current mission at hand. Say the word, Lirana, and you will be free of General Cortas’s job and all of the dangers and frustrations that come with it. Your crew can remain here, of course, until their ship is fixed. But when they leave, you would remain on Adhira. I have already set aside the funds to begin building your ship.”
Lon stepped forward, close enough that Lira could feel his body heat. He took her cold hands in his warm ones. “Just say yes, Lir. You’ve had your fun. You’ve had your adventures, and they wouldn’t be over. They’d just be...safer. Something the Godstars would approve of.”
Lira’s heart rocketed into her throat.
She felt thrust into a battle, the two sides of her heart waging war.
Smoke filtered up from the heat on her scales. And yet, Lon did not let go, even though she knew she was burning him.
“I...”
Two sets of eyes upon her.
Two dreams.
“You have until your crew leaves this planet to decide,” Alara said.
“And the girls?” Lira asked. “What if I wished for them to be my crew, here?”
Lon pushed the screen into Lira’s hands, the sketch of the ship—and Lira’s name above it—still in full view.
“We love you, little bug,” Lon said. “And we want the best for your future.”
“And we feel that future should not include them,” Alara said softly.
Lira stared at them both for a moment, then looked back at the screen in her hands. She felt her scales betraying her emotional state, so Lira simply nodded curtly before turning to leave the room.
Walking out into the halls.
Seeing the past and the future colliding. The faces of her crew. Dead bodies lying at her feet. The pain of leaving her family behind, and the joy of finding a new one beyond the Adhiran borders.
After wandering for some time, Lira finally found Dex in the living area of their borrowed quarters. Alfie sat beside him on the couch. The AI was oiling his gears while Dex oiled his insides with a bottle of Griss.
“They’re in the Well,” Dex said, waving a hand.
Lira raised a brow. “Doing what?”
“They are attacking each other, quite voraciously, with a series of defensive and offensive moves,” Alfie said without looking up from his task.
“It’s called training,” Dex explained. He caught Lira’s eye. “Gilly said there were no boys allowed.”
“She’s correct,” Lira said. She watched Dex for a moment as he talked with Alfie,
smiling as the AI asked further questions. “Dextro?”
Dex glanced up.
“The story that you told Andi, back on the ship,” Lira said. “Was there truly no other way to save them both?”
His smile fell as he said, “If there had been another way, Lira...” He shook his head, his brow creasing as he took a long gulp of Griss. “I would have torn apart the galaxy in order to take it.”
Lira nodded in understanding. Dex lifted his bottle of Griss to her in a gesture of farewell as she left the room, heading for the Well, a freshwater lake deep inside the mountain where her crew would be waiting.
Her heart twisted with the weight of the offer she’d just received.
Chapter Fifty
* * *
ANDROMA
“YOU’RE SULKING AGAIN,” Breck said to Andi as they circled each other like two hungry sharks.
“I’m not sulking,” Andi said. “I’m simply regretting my decisions. Deeply.”
Breck lifted a dark brow. “You’re too much in your head. It’s time you got out of it.” She lunged forward, and before Andi knew it, Breck’s giant foot was in her gut.
Andi went flying.
She landed, with a great splash, in the massive lake that made up most of the Well. It was twice as deep as it was wide, and colorful, flashing fish swam beneath its depths, sucking the algae away so that the lake remained a glittering, almost crystal shade of blue.
Andi came up sputtering for air and shivering to find Breck, Lira and Gilly laughing by the water’s edge. Their laughs echoed throughout the massive cavern, slipped across the surface of the blue lake. Workers nearby looked up from their posts on the bridge that spanned the lake, their tubes that pulled water from the Well momentarily forgotten.
The Well of Rhymore was not exactly a prime location for training. The space surrounding the giant lake was slick, solid rock, and the only source of light came from the random flashes of the fish beneath the surface of the water. It was hard to see and difficult to move, plus they had a captive audience of Queen Alara’s workers watching.
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