by Jenny Moyer
He draws me into his arms. Our suits crackle and spark.
“You ready to go places that haven’t been mapped?” he asks.
“Always.”
We turn away from the flash curtain and walk toward our future. With each step, I realize that memories aren’t tied to places, but to the people who made them. Wherever we go, I’ll bring the best moments with me.
* * *
Dram and I stand in the greenspace at the top of the vessel, watching the shoreline disappear. The flag illuminated above us is a holographic image, a blend of the seal of Alara and Ordinance’s Codev-like symbols. It’s intended to project our intentions as a research and aid vessel, representing the best parts of both our city-states.
Still, we’re not taking unnecessary risks. Greash leads the contingent of Striders and Untempered Conjies making this voyage along with us. We wear the Trades on our sleeves. Honorary Outliers, Arrun said. I was familiar with the symbol, but I had to ask him to translate the Latin motto.
Invictus maneo. I remain unvanquished.
A powerful statement, as far as mottoes go. Whatever trouble we may get into, I’ve vowed to keep the patch clean and the words clear. I may not carry an axe, but I haven’t left my Subpar ways behind.
“Orion…” Dram grips the rail. “There are things we need to talk about.” The ocean air snatches at his words, so I lean in closer. “What I did in the Tomb—”
“It wasn’t you. You were out of your head with venom.”
“Sometimes, pieces of that night come back to me,” he says gruffly. “It’s like I’m reliving the moment in someone else’s body, because I can’t believe what I’m seeing, what I’m doing—” His voice breaks and he squeezes the railing so tightly I’m expecting it to crack under his Gem-supplemented strength.
“I forgive you.”
Tears fill his eyes, and he pulls me close, so tight against him, I feel his heart beat with mine. I thought I forgave him in the cordon when I found him beside Soma, but this is different. More. Like now that everything’s been exposed, all the ugliness and pain is burned away by the light.
He pulls back, clasping the sides of my face. He looks into my eyes and nods, as though he’s found what he needed to see. His lips move, but no words form, as if sorry is too small a word for what he’s trying to say.
“It’s all right,” I whisper. He wears a lost look, like he’s unsure he can cross to the other side of this bridge we’re standing on. So I show him, reaching across and pressing my mouth to his. He exhales—I feel it against my lips—a shuddering sigh that turns into a kiss. And then he fills me, and I him, and we are all touch and taste, banishing the empty places.
I touch the climbing rope he still wears around his wrist in the place his Radband used to be. Blood stains the fibers, but the figure-eight knot is still woven tightly against his skin.
“I wouldn’t let them take it off,” he says. “Not even when they…” He doesn’t finish. Not even when they took away the Subpar and replaced him with something that I still don’t understand. For a moment, I’m back beneath the curtain and Dram is fighting me. I wait for the anguish to come, for the bitterness of betrayal to harden. But it’s only sorrow that I feel now, tempered with understanding. What Dram did then, he did to save me.
“I wish I hadn’t destroyed my bracelet,” I murmur.
“I’ll make you a new one,” he says, and the light is back in his eyes. “I’m good with knots.”
I take a moment to savor those eyes, free from shadows. Then I cross the bridge again, to where I am strong, and he is strong, and together, we are invincible.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m honored, dear reader, that you cared about what happened to Orion and Dram, even after the last pages of Flashfall. It’s you I have to thank most of all for this sequel.
I’m grateful for every encouraging e-mail, post, video, and tweet from those of you the story touched, who wanted Orion to see the stars as much as I did. You are honorary Subpars, and whether you knew it or not, you had my back while I was deep in the writing cave on this one. Thank you. Nos sumus fortunati!
To my amazing editor, Kate Farrell, who guided me so skillfully as I waded out into Book Two waters: I still pinch myself that I get to work with you. Thank you for believing in me and throwing your support behind an ore scout and her marker.
Once, I was just a girl lost in the land of Slush Pile, and a very extraordinary agent plucked me out and dusted off this quirky mining story called Subpars. She made me change the name and add more “light” to the “dark places.” I will always be grateful to you, Sarah Davies. Here’s to more adventures to come.…
To all the wonderful people at Macmillan, especially the amazing team at Henry Holt: so many of you helped bring Flashtide to life and I’m grateful. Special thanks to Rachel Murray for the early read, support, and all-around awesomeness; Kathleen Breitenfield for the gorgeous cover; and Brittany Pearlman, along with the rest of the publicity and marketing teams who have been such a vital support.
Special thanks to the teachers, librarians, booksellers, and book bloggers who have shared their enthusiasm for the Flashfall series. Thank you for all the ways you’ve helped this story land into just the right hands.
Very special thanks to Anissa de Gomery of FairyLoot, and Korrina Ede of OwlCrate. You both are amazing, and your support means more than I can say!
To my friends and family who have supported me in countless ways, and shared this publishing journey with me: I love you and I’m so thankful for you.
I couldn’t have written Flashtide without the incredible support of my husband, Jacob, and our boys, Caden, Landon, and Hezekiah. You encourage me to explore the wild places in my mind, then give me the best place to come home to.
And finally, to the dreamers: Orion’s story was born in my heart at a time when I thought my publishing dreams were beyond reach. I decided to write a character who got knocked down again and again but still believed there was a way through, and who had the resilience, courage, and faith to get back up. Her journey inspired mine, and I hope it encourages you to keep reaching for the stars, even when you can’t see them.
Run hard, you dreamers and Outliers, and never give up.
Invictus maneo.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jenny Moyer grew up in Arizona, where she learned to fly before she could drive. She studied writing at Seattle Pacific University and co-owns Luminary Creative with her filmmaker husband, Jacob. She lives in Des Moines, Iowa, with her three boys and three-pound dog, Emmy. Flashfall was her first book.
Visit her online at jennymoyer.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Map
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
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Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Jenny Moyer
Henry Holt and Company, Publishers since 1866
Henry Holt® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
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All rights reserved.
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print version of this title.
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eISBN 9781250129291
First hardcover edition 2017
eBook edition November 2017