by Rebecca Rode
The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.
She turned to see the other passengers dozing. Bianca and Mar were somewhere on this ship as well, finally safe. She wouldn’t rest until Stefan was back at her side, where he belonged. And then she had some serious work to do.
“I don’t care anymore, stars,” she said. “It doesn’t matter why you gave me this gift, because my life is not your choice. It’s mine. And now that I’ve made my decision, I will never apologize again.”
* * *
THE END
EMBER’S STORY CONTINUES
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Flare - Chapter 1
Ember’s first glimpse of Karralon, the Union base and her new home, should have been comforting. Her weeklong journey was nearly over, her frustrating sense of limbo at an end. The planet even looked similar to Earth from this distance—a water planet, brilliant blue and probably brimming with life like her former home. It should have felt like a new beginning, an opportunity.
It felt like nothing at all.
She sat quietly in her seat behind the pilots, an obedient passenger watching the screen just like the others. But inside of her there was just deadness. The planet before her held no more promise for her than this ship held warmth. It was a vehicle, nothing more. A means to an end. An end Ember intended to control.
Ember realized she’d lifted her arm to trace her scar again and forced her hands to her lap. Stefan must have torn that terrible collar off her while she was unconscious because Mar said it was missing when Stefan shoved Ember onto that emergency pod.
This is what the stars decreed, Ember. I just wish we could have been together in the end.
She shoved the memory away. The only evidence she’d ever worn Kane’s collar was the scar on the back of her neck. It was healing nicely, though Kane’s collar had singed some of the nerve endings there, creating a strange numbness when touched. The ship’s medic hadn’t been able to bring the sensation back in that patch of skin. Ember only wished she could apply the same numbness to her mind.
She leaned forward, squinting at the screen. As similar as Karralon looked to Earth, it lacked one important detail. Instead of brown masses of land dotting the planet, she saw only ocean. A globe made up entirely of water.
“Where are we supposed to land?” she asked the pilot. The rainbow-haired Gilgan woman continued to fiddle with the instruments before her, ignoring Ember’s question as she had so many times over the past week. Gilgans had never been known for their manners.
So far, their journey to the Union base had been uneventful—on the surface, anyway. The long nights Ember spent on a hard bunk in a far corner of the boarding room were peppered with nightmares of Commander Kane standing over her laughing. Dreams of Dai writhing in his bed, calling for her and weeping at the pain. Wondering where she had gone.
The days were even longer. Ember saw Bianca often in the passenger hold, but her former friend avoided her as if she didn’t exist. She’d even tried to corner Bianca, to force her to listen. But when their gazes locked, Ember found she had nothing to say.
There was no defense, no way to soften the explanation for what Ember had done. While Ember mourned a father, Bianca had watched her own husband and her three-year-old son die and then had given birth to a stillborn daughter. Her friend was broken, lost in a world of pain Ember could never hope to ease.
A world Ember inflicted on her, however she wished it wasn’t so.
The Empire had fallen upon her village like dragons descending upon helpless sheep. All the fighting, the planning, the struggling to get home and she’d lost anyway—along with everyone else who meant anything to her.
They’d called her the most powerful being in the universe. They couldn’t be more wrong.
“I asked where we’re going to land,” Ember said again, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Is the base underwater?”
The pilot tossed a quick reply over her shoulder. “You’ll see in a moment, Lady Flare.”
The passengers—all sixty-two—had taken to calling her Lady Flare on the first day. She’d asked them to stop, to no avail. She almost preferred being called gypsy. Hence, she’d spent most of the past three days in this cockpit, learning all she could about the ship and its operations. At least that was her excuse. In reality, she couldn’t bear any more glaring and whispering from the passengers. One in particular.
Bianca reminded her of home, and home reminded her of Dai.
Ember chafed at the pilot’s terse reply. The entire ship knew who she was and what she could do, the pilot no exception. Was this a taste of what she would face on Karralon?
“Coming in sharp by .043 degrees, Captain,” said the copilot, a man about Dai’s age with thinning hair and permanent frown.
Ember strained to see over their heads to the blue ocean beyond them. They were closing in at ridiculous speeds. Were they to plunge into the ocean and let the water slow them? Wouldn’t the impact shatter the craft into a thousand pieces?
“You’ve done this before, right?” Ember asked.
The pilot snorted. The copilot glared at her, then muttered something under his breath as he turned back to his controls.
The message was clear. Ember sat back, tightly gripping the armrests as her stomach fluttered. Bianca likely sat in the passenger hold, feeling much like this and hating Ember. Mar, Ember’s friend from the station, would be chattering to the person next to her to hold her nerves at bay. She didn’t seem happy about joining the Union, but she didn’t have much choice. And Amai, the Union leader who’d recruited her—well, Ember hadn’t seen her in days. She rarely knew where the woman was at any given time. She’d have to remember that Amai’s loyalty was to the Daughter and nobody else.
“Activate thrusters for seventy-four degrees at 4.1 percent,” the pilot said, all business now.
“Thrusters activated.” The copilot’s hands flew over the instruments.
Ember leaned forward now, blinking to focus. Something floated in the ocean below them. It looked like a big mass of wavy white lines.
“Communicate security code,” the pilot said.
“Communicating now.”
A light on the control panel beeped slowly at first, then more insistently. The pilots looked intent as they slowed the craft. Their descent occurred in controlled bursts, Ember’s stomach lurching each time. Then they hovered for a long moment over the white mass, which seemed to be moving, writhing like a hundred living ribbons. Only a brightness at the center held firm. A landing pad?
The ship touched ground with a jolt.
Not ground, Ember reminded herself. There was none of that here. As much as it looked like home from above, it wasn’t. Ember had joined the Union to take down the Empire. She wasn’t here to make friends or find stability. She would never again be that person.
The pilot finished securing the ship, running through a checklist of some kind with the copilot. They turned back to her, looking triumphant.
“Impressive,” Ember admitted, snapping her harness open. “Thank you for allowing me to watch you work.”
The pilot shrugged. “Our job is simple compared to yours. Fulfill the Daughter’s wishes, and that will be thanks enough, Lady Flare.”
For once the title didn’t sound sarcastic. She would never understand Gilgans. “You don’t by chance know what the Daughter wants me to do?”
“Of course not. But she doesn’t send us out to rescue civilians without good reason.”
The copilot scowled. “If that’s the case, Captain, maybe you’d better let the girl visit the Daughter already. I’m going to get some fresh air. It stinks in here.” He strode to the hatch and unlocked it.
“That’s just you,” the pilot muttered after him. Then she gave Ember a tired smile. “They’re decompressing the outer doors now. You’re free to go.”
Ember slid her jacket over her shoulde
rs, bothered by the comment. The pilot was wrong. Ember wouldn’t be free for a long while yet. Starting today, she served the Daughter. She’d done nothing but exchange one master for another.
And now she was about to find out what kind of master that would be.
Ember waited until everyone else left before descending the gangplank. The surface under her feet rolled on the ocean waves, forcing her to tread carefully. She could see the landing pad more clearly now. A long white finger-like substance, like bright seaweed, wove around the edges of the pad until she couldn’t distinguish where the pad ended and where the substance began. The only indication was a light rail between the two. A brilliant disguise.
The white material extended hundreds of yards in every direction, the blue sea going even farther than that. The afternoon sun shone far above them, making the horizon appear blurry. It was almost beautiful. A salty wind picked up her hair and tossed it about. She took a deep breath and choked. There was an element of something unfamiliar in the air, a sourness.
Not home, she reminded herself with a cough. Far from it.
Several sea vessels large enough to transport dozens of passengers, sat parked at the edge. Ember caught sight of Bianca boarding one. She attempted to catch her former friend’s gaze, but Bianca stepped into the boat with a determined air, keeping her eyes averted.
Amai, dark stubble filling her recently shaved head, approached another vessel. Ember moved to follow, but a short man stepped stiffly in front of her.
“Lady Flare,” the man said. “I have been instructed to collect you. I trust you had a good trip?”
She pressed her lips together at the title but chose to simply nod. As irritating as the title was, she had indeed changed these past weeks. She was no longer the Roma girl who’d left Earth months before. That title held little meaning now with her people gone and her village burned to the ground. But she wasn’t the assassin Commander Kane presented to the Empire, either. She was somewhere in between, a new woman, broken and trying desperately to grasp at what remained of her life.
“Excellent. Well, the Daughter awaits you, so please follow me.” He turned on his heel and walked to the end of the platform, where a separate watercraft waited. Tall and narrow and built to carry only a few passengers, it had a ridiculous number of glass windows that maximized the view. Probably a vessel for wealthy tourists.
“Actually, I would prefer to see my quarters first,” Ember said. She had been cleaning herself with wet cloths for two weeks. She wanted to be fresh in body and mind before she met the woman who would direct her future.
The man turned to her, alarmed. “You wish to make the Daughter wait?”
“She’s waited seven days. What’s one more hour?”
“B-but I have my orders, Ms. Flare. Surely you understand the Daughter has important matters to attend to. It’s an honor to be summoned to her throne—”
“Such an honor that I insist on changing my clothes first,” Ember interrupted. “You have a uniform for me, I assume. Probably an ugly trouser suit like this one.” She pinched the fabric of her ridiculous form-fitting trousers. They hadn’t had a replacement for her aboard the ship, and she couldn’t wait to toss her flicker uniform into the ocean.
Except the jacket. Once in a while she caught a scent on it that reminded her of Stefan.
The man hesitated. “I, uh—”
A woman leaned out of the vessel. “What’s taking so long? They’ve called again.”
“The flare wants to change her clothes,” the man said with a helpless shrug.
She snorted. “I bet she does. She probably wants a decent meal and a real bed, too, but orders are orders. And you have yours.”
The man seemed to pull himself together at that. “I’m sorry, Ms. Flare, but you’ll have to wait until the Daughter dismisses you.”
Ember scowled, eyeing the waves beneath them. “Then find me another set of clothing, or I’m jumping into the ocean to get myself clean.”
Both recoiled, the woman’s hand flying to her mouth.
“Oh, you don’t want to do that,” the man said quickly.
“They didn’t tell you on the ship?” the woman asked. “This water is unsafe. Anything you drink must go through a strong filtration and distillation process first. We don’t even touch it without gloves.”
Ember gaped at them. “You live on a planet with no land and the water around you is poisonous?”
“The Empire deems it uninhabitable, which makes it perfect,” the woman said. “It’s just a little inconvenient. Now get in.”
This planet was as much a contradiction as Ember was. Maybe she would fit in well after all. With a sigh, she climbed inside the vessel and found a seat. The woman turned to the controls as the man jumped in. To Ember’s surprise, he sat down right next to her. She’d expected him to sit as far away as possible. He knew she was a flare, after all.
Or maybe she was far from the scariest person on this planet.
Moments later they sped away from the platform, the boat leaping and sailing across the waves. Ember gritted her teeth. She’d traveled billions of miles in two weeks at faster-than-light speeds, yet this giant box speeding over poisonous water felt far more terrifying.
“Tell me where we’re headed,” Ember finally said, turning to the man beside her. “Do you live on platforms like the one we just left?”
The man chuckled, suddenly at ease with Ember now cooperating. “Oh no. Too many people and not enough boats for travel. But in her infinite wisdom, the Daughter devised a solution. You should be able to see them any minute now.”
Ember watched out the window as they sped along. Soon she caught a glimpse of something floating in the water. A different strain of the white seaweed? But the surface was too uneven.
Then she gasped. It was a city bobbing about on the waves ahead. It must have had thousands of tiny floating buildings in varying shades of white. No, not buildings. Tents?
“Pods,” the man said, seeming to read Ember’s mind. “They aren’t fast, but they’ll get people to their destinations.”
What if their destination moves? Ember wanted to ask. Instead she said, “So everyone lives in a moving, floating house?”
“Civilians and workers, yes. Our pods are our homes and our means of transportation. But your quarters are in a larger building tethered to the ocean floor for stability. You’ll be assigned a boat and driver to take you around.”
“What about storms?” Ember asked, thinking over the implications. “And food? The sea life is toxic too, I assume.” She’d been excited to eat real food again after a week of dehydrated food packets, but poisonous fish sounded much less appealing. What had these people been through under the Empire’s rule that made this preferable to where they’d come from? It was such a complicated way to avoid the Empire’s notice.
“Indeed. Our meals are highly processed and perfectly safe. Avoid the ocean water and you’ll be fine. And this area is protected by a natural break, so our storms are minor. The Daughter is more concerned with the basics—nutrition, shelter. We’re full to the brim, Lady Flare. We used to have bases spread across several galaxies and large ships. Now it’s just us, and we take on new recruits every day.” His gaze flicked to Ember, then returned to the window.
She sat back against her seat. Ember herself had taken out a huge portion of their fleet. Did this man know that? He certainly appeared composed about the idea of her being here. Surely he would be upset if he knew. All these people would. She squirmed in her seat, nausea beginning to swell inside her.
“The Empire is another concern, obviously,” the man continued as the vessel crested a particularly large wave, forcing Ember to hit her seat with a painful thump. “The Daughter runs emergency drills on occasion. The pods can close off and be underwater within twenty minutes. Depending on the size and how old the pod is, it can supply filtered air and water for about three days.” He paused. “We’ve only had to use that feature once before, and that was a few mon
ths ago when an Empire drone paid a visit.”
That made sense. If the Empire detected a massive ocean city here, they would swoop in immediately. But a collection of moving sea clutter or plant life? No threat at all.
The Daughter was no fool. The realization made Ember more nervous, not less.
As they approached the town, hundreds of one-room pods moved to create a path for them, haphazardly rising and falling with the waves. They appeared barely large enough for sleeping, let alone cooking and bathing. Perhaps there were public facilities and a cafeteria somewhere for those purposes.
One pod drew closer than the others. Two curious faces peeked out from the heavy pod doors. Children, around six and three. The younger one reminded Ember of Bianca’s son, Luca. She prayed Bianca wasn’t looking too closely at these families as she traveled. The pod opening’s clear screen prevented seawater from splashing inside and was a decent height above the waves. But it didn’t seem like enough. How scary for the mother to trust her young family’s safety to the thin layer at their feet.
Ember’s stomach lurched again, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep her breakfast down. She grimaced and waved to the children, who smiled and waved back enthusiastically.
“The Daughter’s chamber is ahead,” the man said, straightening in his seat. “When you meet her, it is appropriate to give a low bow or curtsy. When she tells you to rise, you will do so but only halfway. Then you’ll allow her to descend and raise you the rest of the way. But do not look her in the eye even then. To do so is considered a challenge. And make sure you do not speak until she addresses you with a question.”
Ember bristled. “I come here as an equal, a partner in a shared cause. The woman said nothing of bowing and scraping the floor in her presence.”
“Nonetheless, it is what is expected. You will do well to remember it.” The craft was slowing now. He waited until they had drawn to a halt before unbuckling his belt. “I will draw the door for you.”