Besides, my family was as old as Nev’s, if not as royal, and my history as rich. And if there was one aspect of all this I could look at in a positive light, it was that Nev wasn’t quite as royal anymore. Maybe we had somehow found a patch of common ground after we’d both ruined each other’s lives.
Eventually, the Air Guard starfighters and destroyers held back, giving us enough space to engage the drive, though not enough that they couldn’t try to torpedo us into particles if we didn’t deliver our end of the deal.
“Basra?” I said. It felt odd for a second, giving an order to someone who was apparently richer than the Great Unifier. But then, it was still just Basra. I’d have to get to know this other side of him later. “Do your thing. We’re ready.”
Without looking away from Arjan, he swiped a finger over one of the infopads. “Done,” he said.
I didn’t wait to verify. I punched the button for the drive and was relieved to find that at least one thing on the ship still worked right. The stars melted around us. In moments, the Kaitan had left Luvos light-years behind, along with the Dracortes.
All except for one.
After making sure Telu had set the proper coordinates, receiving Basra’s assurances that Arjan was stable for the time being, and helping Eton to his quarters to rest, I made my way alone into the hold. There, I found Nev.
His bandaged arms were braced on either side of a viewport, red already seeping through the white in some places. It would take some time, but they would heal. I didn’t know about the rest of him, though, as I watched him staring out at the weeping stars. As I knew from experience, losing your family was a hard thing to weather.
But I hadn’t lost all of my family. I’d gotten my brother back against impossible odds. The thought made my breath catch in my chest. I hadn’t let the relief crash over me yet. Arjan was alive. He was hurt, but those injuries—even his eye—didn’t weigh anything next to his life. I was nearly dizzy with joy simply to still have him. We’d deal with the rest later.
Meanwhile, Nev had lost more than he thought possible.
And yet, he’d chosen this, chosen us, even before he’d known he was exiled and disowned. Somehow, that made me able to reach out to him. I threaded my fingers through his, where they lay splayed on the wall. As he straightened in surprise, I took his hand in mine.
Nev blinked at me. And then, before I knew what was happening, he pulled me into him, his mouth hungry, his lips firm and warm against mine. I tilted my head back in breathless response, my arms wrapping around him. For one moment, neither Shadow, nor crew, nor family, nor anything else existed. Only us. This was the answer to the question he’d asked about what I wanted most for just myself—my hidden, desperate dream come to life, while all my cares and responsibilities faded away.
His chest rose and fell against my own. We were both breathing rapidly, and I was dizzier than ever. Maybe it was because of how tightly we were holding each other, as if something would try to tear us apart. His arms, for being injured, were quite strong.
In the end, it was that practical detail that made me pull away. “Your cuts…,” I said. And then I suddenly didn’t know what else to say.
I would have pulled away entirely, but he kept a firm hold of my hand. Our hands hung between us, linked, bridging the gap, and we both looked at them like we didn’t know what to do.
Still, neither of us let go.
“Where are we headed?” Nev asked.
“Alaxak. Are you okay with that?”
He nodded.
“You…you don’t have to stay, once we get there.” The words hurt to say, but I had to.
“I know,” he said, and I held my breath. “But I want to.”
I exhaled and said in a rush, “I don’t even know what we’ll do once we get there.”
He glanced up at me, smiling. “We’ll Shadow fish, I imagine. We all need to make a living, after all…even me, now.” He grimaced. “You don’t even have a net, never mind functioning thrusters. I was supposed to pay for the damages to your ship, but all my assets have likely been frozen. I took some money with me, though it’s nothing like what I had.”
“Frozen money for a frozen planet,” I said, unconcerned. “Basra told me that he managed to save some of what you had, somehow. He didn’t explain, and I didn’t ask, but it might be enough.”
I meant enough for him to live, to do whatever, without having to work on my ship or anywhere, but he said, “Well, then, at least I can pay off some of my debt.” His smile returned, but it was still pained. “I hope you’ll let me work off the rest.”
The words were so loaded, it would have taken hours to unpack everything in them. All I could do was nod, for now.
“You realize…” Nev paused. “You realize my family might still try to come after you, or me. If they do, Basra could try to sink Dracorte Industries again, of course, but any attempts on our lives might not be directly linked to them. There are plenty of assassins and bounty hunters who do work for the Dracortes, never mind those who could be sent by other families.”
For some insane reason, I still wasn’t worried. I couldn’t get over the simple fact that we were all alive. Beyond that, everything was unimportant. “I won’t let them hurt any of us. There’s so much Shadow on Alaxak that I can use if—”
I tried not to start when Nev rested his forehead against mine. His breath was warm on my face. “I have no doubt…but at what cost to you?”
“I…” I hesitated, and then said truthfully, “I don’t know. I don’t know if, or when, all this will catch up to me.”
His hand tightened in mine, tugging me closer, his forehead nudging mine. “I’m not just going to leave you to this. I promised. I promised to help you figure out your Shadow affinity, how to use it safely. I haven’t forgotten.” He chuckled, once. “And now that we’re not all about to die, it has moved to the top of my priority list, just short of breathing.”
Now I couldn’t breathe again. But if I’d thought that was bad, he then kissed my forehead. It was like he’d dropped a bomb on my skin. A tingle spread in a radius out from his lips, racing over my scalp and down my spine. I couldn’t believe he could just do something like that, and the ship didn’t grind to a halt, or the planets stop spinning, or the stars burn out.
His arms came around my shoulders like nothing had happened. I couldn’t help leaning into him, resting my cheek against his chest.
“I know,” he began, “that everything just changed for the both of us. A lot. Everything is different. But perhaps…perhaps we can figure it out together. I’m ready to face these changes.”
My own arms snaked around his back. Next to him, almost anything seemed possible. Even the impossible.
It was time to find that balance, that peace, I’d been looking for all my life. My lips parted, and I breathed into his shirt.
“Me too,” I whispered.
This book went through a unique process in its birth, and as with anything, there are a number of people and entities that made its very existence possible.
First—and this always gets stuck at the end—thanks to our respective life partners for initially thinking this was a terrible idea and then being ridiculously supportive. We essentially stopped being humans while writing, and somehow they didn’t lose their tempers while cohabiting with sleepless grouch golems. Not only that, they both eagerly devoured and then critiqued the manuscript. Margaret Adsit, thank you for your unflinching recommendations on chapters, and, Lukas Strickland, thank you for calling it like you see it. We love you both.
Second, a big thank you to Alex Miller, Michael’s brother, for being there for the initial brainstorming on the snow-swept drive to the airport that kick-started this entire adventure. As for Deanna Birdsall, AdriAnne’s mom—if there’s a missed apostrophe in the entire thing, it’s because we put it in after her incredible proofreading. Dan and Pam Strickland, AdriAnne’s parents-in-law, somehow found time to be early readers and to lend us kind words. Chelsea P
itcher, awesome author and friend, gave us a thorough critique and was an early cheerleader. And to our friend and Michael’s coworker, Logan Bean, who patiently wondered why Michael was sleep deprived and then happily volunteered as a test audience when he found out, thank you. Thanks so much to all of you.
It goes without saying (but we will anyway): many thanks to our agent, Kirsten Carleton, who has proven a combination of contract warrior, story connoisseur, and all-around cool. And then there’s Kate Sullivan, our amazing editor at Delacorte Press, who was (and will continue to be) a virtual shepherd to our book, and left truly hilarious comments in the margins while she was at it.
We also want to thank the real, live fisherwomen and lady captains (all of them pilots too) who were such an inspiration when uniting Qole: Anna Hoover, Thorey Munro, and Amanda Zharoff, you are badasses of epic proportion. Thanks especially to Anna for vetting parts of the manuscript and providing feedback.
Last but not least, Michael would like to thank God, and AdriAnne would like to thank the god of beer.
This book was written in Alaska, Wisconsin, Hawaii, and Washington. It was written on windswept beaches and sunny beaches, in snowy forests and forests of people. It has traveled thousands of real and digital miles and has fueled untold sleepless nights and our wildest imaginations. So to each and every one of you who helped make this possible, we are more thankful than these puny words can say.
Michael Miller and AdriAnne Strickland met in their hometown of Palmer, Alaska, where they agreed on books 99 percent of the time, and thus decided to write together. They grew up on Lord of the Rings, Russian folktales, the Ender Quartet, the Little House on the Prairie books, and The X-Files. Michael grew up off the grid in a homestead in Alaska and ironically now works very much on the grid in IT and Web development. AdriAnne grew up in Nevada and now spends her summers as a commercial fisherwoman in Bristol Bay, Alaska, and the rest of her year writing. This is their first book.
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Shadow Run Page 35