by Amie Kaufman
“Yes, we are,” Finian growls, dragging on a breather mask.
I raise an eyebrow. “Fin?”
“Engines offline sounds like a job for the best Gearhead in the whole damn Aurora Legion, if you ask me.”
“You can fix it?”
“One way to find out.” He flicks his wrist, and a multi-tool extends from the arm of his exosuit. All the fear I heard in his voice before has totally evaporated, replaced by his razor grin. “And let’s be honest, it’s been way too long since I did something incredibly dashing and heroic.”
“I’m coming with you,” I say, dragging off my harness.
“Be careful,” Zila tells us. “Be quick.”
Finian grabs my hand, slams open the cockpit door.
I drag the breather over my face.
And we run.
Aurora
Kal crumples to the ground, the familiar violet and gold of his mind overwhelmed by the dark, dried blood of his father’s. It’s only as darkness descends over him completely that I realize he was still touching my mind, right up to the last second, the lightest of connections.
One he couldn’t give up.
One I never completely burned away.
Deception and devotion. I sensed them both in him.
Only one is for you, he said.
The Waywalkers scream above me, their voices rising in a discordant wail.
And as his father leaves Kal lying there like he’s nothing, turning back toward me, I remember something else Kal told me.
Love is purpose, be’shmai.
Love is what drives us to great deeds, and greater sacrifices.
Without love, what is left?
Tyler
The Fold is on fire. Flames burning in black and white.
TDF fighter ships swarm through the dark, explosions lighting the night around me. The wreck of a Syldrathi Banshee hangs off the Kusanagi’s bow, lifeless and black. Another one is drifting, leaking fuel vapor and thin wisps of fire, spinning away in a slow spiral from the ongoing battle.
But the other two Banshees are cutting the Kusanagi to bits.
The tactics nerd in me is totally enthralled by the battle, but honestly, I’ve got bigger things to worry about than the free-for-all going on around me. Bigger things, even, than the war probably raging around Earth right now.
Problem is, these TDF escape pods are basically missiles, made to fly away from the ship you just ejected from as fast as their little engines will boost them. The Fold around me is full of debris—junked fighters, massive tumbling chunks of Banshee, arcs of burning plasma. And while this pod might look like a fish and move like a fish, it steers a lot like a cow.
I wrestle the controls, speaking into comms as I blast farther away from the slaughter.
“Saedii, this is Tyler, over?”
Finian
I grab wildly at the handrail, nearly falling down the companionway in my rush to reach the engines. Everything’s built just fractionally too big for me—those tall Syldrathi bastards.
I yelp as my foot slips off the step, and Scarlett grabs me from behind, somehow holding me by one arm until I regain my balance. I don’t waste breath on thanks—we make a barely controlled descent to the hallway and break into a run.
A part of me is aware I’m running to try and get my own death back on track, and that’s not something I ever saw coming.
But Scarlett hasn’t let go of my hand now that we’re on level ground. And that’s not nothing.
The engine room door is sealed, and I stretch out one hand for the touch panel—then yank it back at the last second, horrified at what I nearly did.
The warning light beside the panel is flashing red.
I lift up on my toes (tall bastards) and take a look through the viewport.
Oh.
“What’s happening in there?” Scarlett demands.
When I don’t answer, she shoulders me aside. And even though she’s not our strongest mechanical talent, Scar knows what stole my words away the second she sees it. Inside the engine room, gas and fluids are venting into space.
There’s a gaping hole in the side of this piece-of-chakk ship. Its ragged edges are bent inward, and I can see the battle still under way outside. I can see the stars. Whatever hit us punched straight through.
Our engines are in pieces.
I can’t fix this.
Zila
The Weapon ahead of us brightens, swirling with color, a thousand rainbows refracted back and forth.
Slowly, I take my hands off the controls. I let my mind rest. My thoughts quiet.
There are no further calculations required of me.
It is strangely peaceful.
I lean into my mic to speak to my squadmates.
“Finian, Scarlett. It has been a privilege to serve in Squad 312 alongside you.”
I am not feeling nothing.
Tyler
A Syldrathi Banshee streaks past me, silent as death, black and crescent-shaped. My proximity alarms are shrieking, my palms damp with sweat as I weave past the shattered hulk of a TDF fighter, barely missing a spinning chunk of Banshee hull.
“Unbroken vessels, this is Tyler Jones, do you read me, over?”
I stab at comms again. Wondering if something happened to Saedii. Wondering if her crew managed to scoop her up. Wondering if…
…if she’s decided to leave me here to die.
She wouldn’t do that, would she?
“Saedii, do you copy?”
“WE COPY YOU, TYLER.”
The reply rings down my emergency channel, making my pounding heart fall still. It’s iron cold. Edged with static. But even still, I know that voice.
I’ve known it since we were five years old.
“…Cat.”
Scarlett
I hope Tyler’s still alive out there somewhere.
I know he’ll understand I didn’t want to leave him.
I never imagined I’d go out heroically. More at the age of one hundred and fifty-seven, while scandalously making love to the pool boy, you know?
But…this is okay too.
I meet Fin’s eyes. They’re black all over, and the contacts should make it impossible to read his expression. But I’ve never found it hard.
I realize we’re still holding hands.
So I turn toward him and take his other hand in mine too.
Aurora
I stagger to my feet, every muscle screaming, my mind straining to hold back the Starslayer’s assaults. The Waywalkers’ psychic energy pours into him in a torrent now, and he’s so big I can’t even find his edges.
He laughs as I barely manage to bat him away, my vision darkening at the edges.
Kal lies still.
But I am on fire.
And I am burning
burning
burning.
Zila
I have always been agnostic. Faith is hard for me. I am not built for it.
But I wonder if my parents will be waiting for me.
We have failed, but I hope they will see how hard we tried.
Tyler
“WE’RE SORRY, TYLER,” Cat says.
I frown. “Sorry for what?”
An alert pings on the escape pod’s HUD, followed by a sawing alarm from the main computer.
“WARNING: MISSILE LOCK DETECTED.”
My stomach drops and rolls. Moments later, another alarm screams through the pod’s cockpit, lights flashing as a new dot appears on my HUD.
“WARNING: MISSILE INBOUND. REPEAT: MISSILE INBOUND.”
Headed right for me.
“Maker, help me,” I whisper.
Finian
I can’t look away from her.
She squeezes my hands with hers, and someho
w, impossibly, she grins. Maker, but she’s luminous.
And somehow, impossibly, she pulls a grin from me in answer.
Scarlett
I’ve never seen him just smile before—no cynicism, no guard up.
He’s beautiful.
He bites his lip as we gaze at each other, and hey, it’s a matter of seconds until the Weapon fires, or a TDF ship blows us out of the sky.
So I use our joined hands to tug him in closer. He’s exactly my height.
All I have to do is tilt my head a little.
Finian
Thank you, Maker, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.
I can’t help dropping my gaze a little—I’m about to close my eyes and go out in style, kissing Scarlett Isobel Jones.
I swear I’m not checking out her cleavage as my lashes lower, but my eyes land on her necklace.
Go with Plan B.
Plan B, my ass. It totally failed. And I never even found out what my pen was for.
But the hells with that. I’m going to…
…Wait a minute.
Scarlett
He drops my hands, reaching for my b—oh, my necklace.
“Scar,” he says, breathless. “This isn’t diamond.”
He lifts a baffled gaze to meet mine.
“This is Eshvaren crystal.”
Tyler
“IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL IN HERE, TYLER,” Cat says. “I WISH YOU COULD HAVE SEEN IT.”
I watch that blip, speeding closer, alarms screaming around me.
“MISSILE IMPACT IN FIVE SECONDS.”
I think about my squad, hoping they’ll be okay.
“FOUR SECONDS.”
I think about my sister, and it hurts, knowing I’m leaving her alone.
“THREE SECONDS.”
I reach up to the Senate ring hanging on the chain around my neck.
“TWO SECONDS.”
Wondering if he’d have been proud of me.
“ONE SECOND.”
“See you soon, Dad,” I whisper.
“IMPAC—”
Aurora
Everything is pain, and I can’t feel Kal anymore.
And the Eshvaren were wrong. I was never meant to burn it all away.
Love is purpose, be’shmai.
Love is what drives us to great deeds, and greater sacrifices.
Without love, what is left?
I don’t have to find out the answer to that question.
Because I love him.
I have my strength. I have my purpose.
His father’s poisoned mind is in tune with the Weapon now—all around us the crystal is thrumming, singing, screaming as it prepares to destroy my people’s sun.
I can’t stop it now. It’s too far gone, too close to the moment this incredible, impossible surge of power will be released.
But maybe, just maybe…
Zila
A beam of pure light ignites ahead of me.
It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
And then everything
is
d a r k n e s s
d a r k n e s s
d a r k n e s s
d a r k n e s s
d a r k n e s s
GREETINGS, CADETS!
IT TURNS OUT WE WROTE SUCH A LONG BOOK THAT OUR EDITOR SAYS THERE’S JUST ONE PAGE LEFT FOR OUR ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. OOPS. SO HERE WE GO, AS SHORT AS WE CAN MAKE IT: A LIST OF THE CRIMINALS AND REPROBATES WHO MADE THIS BOOK A REALITY. BE WARNED, THEY’RE DANGEROUS.
THERE’S BARBARA, MELANIE, KAREN, ARTIE, JAKE, JUDITH, JOSH, AMY, DAWN, KATHLEEN, JOHN, ARELY, HEATHER, TRISH, RAY, AND NATALIA, PLUS THE CREWS IN SALES, MARKETING, PUBLICITY, AND MANAGING ED. DEB AND CHARLIE, OF COURSE, PLUS ANNA, NICOLA, SOPHIE, AND THE QUESTIONABLE CHARACTERS THEY ASSOCIATE WITH. THERE’S ALSO JULIET, SHADI, AIMEE, MARK, KATE, MOLLY, BEN, HAYLEY, PAUL, LAURA, AND LUCY. AND LET’S NOT FORGET TO APPORTION SOME BLAME TO OUR INTERNATIONAL PUBLISHERS AND TRANSLATORS.
DON’T LET JOSH, TRACEY, CATHY, OR STEPHEN OFF THE HOOK, AND KEEP ONE BEADY EYE ON OUR FOREIGN AGENTS AND SCOUTS. DON’T TRUST THE CREW OF BOOKSELLERS, LIBRARIANS, READERS, VLOGGERS, BLOGGERS, TWEETERS, AND BOOKSTAGRAMMERS, WHO SPREAD THE WORD, EITHER. THEN THERE’S NICK, OUR AUDIO TEAM, AND OUR SQUAD OF NARRATORS. TOTALLY UNTRUSTWORTHY.
WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T TURN YOUR BACK ON OUR OWN EXTENSIVE NETWORK OF CRIMINAL ASSOCIATES: MEG, MICHELLE, MARIE, LEIGH, KACEY, THE KATES, SORAYA, ELIZA, DAVE, PETE, KIERSTEN, LT, RYAN, THE CATS, THE ROTI BOTI CREW, THE HOUSE OF PROGRESS, TSANA, NIC, SARAH, MARC, B-MONEY, RAFE, WEEZ, PARIS, BATMAN, SURLY JIM, GLEN, SPIV, ORRSOME, TOVES, SAM, TONY, KATH, KYLIE, NICOLE, KURT, JACK, MAX, POPPY, MARILYN, FLIC, GEORGE, KAY, NEVILLE, SHANNON, ADAM, BODE, AND LUCA. ALSO SAM AND JACK.
AND LAST, MOST, AND ALWAYS, THERE’S AMANDA AND BRENDAN…AND NOW PIP.
Christopher Tovo
AMIE KAUFMAN AND JAY KRISTOFF are the New York Times bestselling co-authors of the Illuminae Files. Amie has also co-written (with Meagan Spooner) the Starbound and the Unearthed trilogies. Jay is the author of the LIFEL1K3 series, as well as the Nevernight Chronicle and the Lotus War series for adults. Collectively, Amie and Jay stand 12'5" tall and live in Melbourne, Australia, with two long-suffering spouses, two rescue dogs, and a plentiful supply of caffeine. They met thanks to international taxation law, and stuck together due to a shared love of blowing things up and breaking hearts. Visit them at amiekaufman.com and jaykristoff.com.
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