by Rebecca Rode
Her insides clenched again. She wasn’t ready for this. “Thank you for your help, but I will not discuss my father just now. Perhaps later.”
Neraline examined Ember with a thoughtful expression. “Of course. You’re right. I—I know it’s only been a week or two since his death. I don’t know why I thought this would be appropriate.” She stood and made her way toward the door. “I’m across the hall when you’re ready to talk.”
The older woman reached for the handle. In a moment, the opportunity would be gone. A question wrestled its way from Ember’s mouth without permission, bursting forth like an Earthen bird escaping the brush. “Did you know what he was?”
Neraline froze. Then she turned to face Ember, her expression somber. “Yes. I knew even before he did.”
Ember had so many things she’d wanted to ask her father. Questions about what it meant to be a flare, about how to control her ability. He’d done it for decades, so it had to be possible. And had he grown up on Empire stations like Stefan? What was the flicker breeding program? And how had he developed abilities so different from the other flickers? What had sparked his escape from the Empire?
And now, two new questions. If they were in love, why had he left this woman behind? And why was she here now?
The questions piled up against her mental wall, and suddenly she was too exhausted to open the gate. She could deal with her situation here one thing at a time. She’d met with the Daughter. She’s survived a murder attempt and met her father’s ex-lover. The rest could wait until tomorrow.
“I’ll leave you to settle in,” Neraline said. “We’ll discuss your father and his abilities another day. But I came to warn you about one thing, especially before you start training those other flickers.” She paused. “What Nick could do, what he was capable of—well, you have to know the cost.”
“Lives,” Ember said. “It costs lives. I already know.” She knew more about that than she ever wanted to consider.
“Well, yes. Sometimes,” Neraline said. “But there’s more, something even more concerning. You and your inner light are two distinct beings. Your body and your soul are separate, two connected parts of yourself. Remove one and the other fades. Striking a person’s soul has the same effect as striking their physical body. You’ve experienced this firsthand, I believe.”
Ember fixed her gaze upon the chair. “Yes.”
“You are unique in that each time you use that ability, your body and soul merge for a brief time. They become one before separating once again—except the distance between the two is slightly less than before. The difference is minuscule, barely noticeable even if you’re looking. You’ll notice that the gap between decision and implementation grows narrower, your reactions faster. Soon you won’t even have to direct your light—your soul and body will be one, your thoughts and actions nearly simultaneous. That’s what you need to worry about.”
Ember blinked. “I don’t understand.”
Neraline lowered her voice, glancing at the door as if worried they would be overheard. “The gift to manipulate the light of others gives you incredible power. But it comes at the cost of your own. A person’s soul was never meant to touch their body, Ember. They’re separated for a reason. Your light will eventually grow tainted after so much exposure to your physical self. When that happens, the light will no longer be at your command. It will be the other way around.” She leaned forward now, looking intently into Ember’s eyes. “That’s why I’m here. To warn you to stop using your gift. It’s far too dangerous. Promise me, dear.”
Ember’s head hurt. None of this was making sense. She couldn’t just stop using her gift, not when the Daughter was placing her at the head of a flicker army. She would need her power now more than ever. “I can’t make that promise.”
Neraline sighed. “I know this is all a lot to take in, but you must believe me. It’s like drinking diluted poison. A drop may not kill you, but keep drinking it and eventually you’ll reach a concentration where the process can’t be reversed.” She paused. “I know because we tried. Desperately.”
Ember sank into a chair, staring at nothing. It couldn’t be true. Dai had been fine—at least until he got sick. She had sensed his inner light many times. He was emotionally healthy. If there was a terrible process at work in him, she would have seen evidence of it.
Either the woman imagined things, or she was simply trying to scare Ember into—what? Staying away from the Empire? Allowing the emperor to continue his reign without confrontation? Trying to keep her close as the daughter she never had?
“Whatever you’re trying to do,” Ember said slowly, “it won’t work. I serve the Daughter now.”
There it was—a glint of desperation in Neraline’s eyes. “I know how ridiculous it sounds, Ember. But this is important for you to understand. That’s why Nick ran away, why he swore never to use his powers again.” She looked away. “I didn’t understand at first, but I do now. He left to protect the rest of us from him.”
There it was again—pain, the evidence of loss. She’d seen it in Harlow’s eyes, too. She probably wore some of that pain in her own.
Dai hadn’t used his powers again, at least that Ember could tell. Of course her father had run away from the Empire to protect others. He’d become the weapon he never wanted to become. It was the same reason Ember had left.
But unlike her father, Ember had joined the other side and signed on to fight. She refused to abandon her plan because of a stranger’s bizarre theory about flare abilities.
Neraline seemed to sense their time was up. The older woman opened the door, then paused at the doorway. “Protect your body by bolting the door after I’m gone, Ember. But please protect your light as well. That’s something only you can do.”
Chapter 4
Stefan raised his arm to protect his eyes as the corridor outside his cell flooded with light. Strange. He’d spent ten days locked in this solitary cell and he’d never been disturbed this late before.
It was his night guard, the one who’d brought Stefan’s meals the past several days. The man always came alone, placing the food packet into the transfer dock, which revolved before finally opening on Stefan’s side. But now the guard approached with a quick step, his eyes wide with alarm. The man held no food packets tonight. And by the sound of footsteps behind him, he wasn’t alone.
Stefan swung his legs over the cot and stood, sleep fleeing from his mind. He’d assumed his sentencing would occur during the day. “Is this it, then?”
“Get back,” the guard barked, his eyes darting around in a wildly self-conscious way, as if he knew he were being watched. “You have a visitor. Stand against the far wall.”
Now Stefan knew something was wrong. He couldn’t think of a single person who would visit him here. Surely his parents wouldn’t plunge so low in society as to check on their traitorous son.
The only other person who would have called on him was his grandmother, and she was gone forever. The thought left a hollowness inside, an absence hard to ignore. His parents never understood him, but she had. And he had a feeling she would have approved of his choice to help Ember.
He obeyed the order, making his way backward, eyeing the door all the while. But the guard didn’t open it. Instead, he took a step back against the corridor wall, then stood at attention.
“That’s a good boy,” a woman said in a low, dangerous voice as she walked in. She wore an Empire uniform, though her chest boasted no badges and her collar held no pins. She carried a small tray in front of her and shot Stefan a smirk as she stopped at the transfer dock.
Stefan placed his back against the wall, straining to see better. No, it wasn’t a tray. A communication tablet. Was this his visitor? He’d never seen the woman before.
“Guard, place this into the transfer dock, but do not look at the screen,” she commanded.
The guard immediately obeyed, his gaze averted. Stefan detected a flush to the man’s face even in the dim light. The dock in the gl
ass circled the tablet, then performed a quick scan. Seconds later, Stefan’s side clicked open. A call, then? But his family would no sooner call than visit.
“Go ahead,” the woman said. “Retrieve it.”
He stepped forward and took the tablet into his hands, his heart quickening at the thought of someone calling him. But it wasn’t a family member or friend on the other end.
It was an elderly man. His eyes were bright despite his stooped shoulders. It was his scowl, however, that struck Stefan as familiar. The man’s features had been electronically smoothed, his wrinkles softened. There was a blur to his features as he moved. But there was no mistaking that frown.
The emperor.
Stefan choked, nearly dropping the tablet. “Your Eminence.”
“Hold it with both hands, you fool,” the woman growled from the other side of the glass.
Stefan obeyed, his fingers trembling. The most powerful man in the charted universe was speaking directly to him. Was his betrayal so noteworthy?
“Stupid boy,” the emperor snapped. “You dare look me in the eye? Place your gaze at the floor, where it belongs.”
Stefan blinked and lowered his eyes. The emperor only ever appeared on a screen. He hadn’t been seen in person in decades—at least by anyone Stefan knew. He’d always assumed it was because the man had no reason to leave Empyrean. But maybe there was something else to it, like technology-enabled intimidation. This certainly was the emperor’s style—wielding his words like tiny, fiery weapons, constantly cutting his inferiors down. And tonight Stefan was the lowest of the low.
“I know what you’ve done, young Stefan,” the emperor continued. “The security feed was sloppily sabotaged, but the team restored the evidence in only a matter of hours. I’ve seen your betrayal with my own eyes.”
Stefan wasn’t sure what they would have seen. Unless they had evidence of his subtle sabotage with the flickers, the only thing he’d done was leave his post to carry Ember to the shuttle. But even that could get him executed. Frankly, he was surprised they hadn’t done it already. Was the emperor issuing a verdict, then? Did he often sentence prisoners face-to-face?
Stefan glanced at the guard, who stood at attention. The woman who’d brought the tablet examined her nails as if bored. Probably a special assistant.
“You honor me, Your Eminence,” Stefan said, still staring at the floor. “I believed myself beneath your notice.”
“That you most definitely are, young flicker. It is not you but rather what you know that brings me here.”
Stefan raised an eyebrow but managed to keep his gaze locked on his feet. Dread wriggled its way into his consciousness, settling heavily in his chest. What he knew. So, it was to be interrogation, then. But that didn’t explain the emperor’s presence. He had to be too busy for this kind of thing.
“Your parents have requested reassignment to Empyrean every year for the past two decades,” the emperor began. “They were right to hope. With two sons, both flickers, surely their ascension was assured.”
His parents. Of all things, the emperor wanted to discuss this? Irritation trickled through his mind, overcoming any good sense he had left. “If you’ll pardon me, High One, they were wrong to assume their sons wanted the same.”
The guard grunted and adjusted his hold on the stunner. The emperor fell silent.
Foolish, Stefan chided himself. The emperor could order Stefan killed with a single word. Now wasn’t the time to interrupt the man. If he wasn’t in disfavor before, he would be now.
“The girl,” the emperor finally said. His voice held a sharp chill. “You thought yourself in love with her.”
Stefan’s gaze jerked up now, completely out of his own power. The leader of the universe smirked at him.
“Ember suffered much at Commander Kane’s hand,” Stefan said carefully. “And being partially responsible for her kidnapping, I wanted to make things right.” A stripped-down version of the truth.
“Make things right. By allowing a flare to murder a high commander, helping her steal an escape pod, then turning on your own comrades as she slipped away? You must have known your actions crossed a very critical line.”
Stefan locked his gaze on the emperor’s now. “I did.”
There was a sharp intake of breath from the guard, but Stefan refused to look away.
The emperor looked amused now. “You admit it, then. You were willing to throw away everything for this girl—your goals, your career. Your family. Your very life. All to make things right with a girl you weren’t in love with.”
Stefan had mulled over each of those points over the past ten days in his cell. He had known exactly what staying behind meant for him. No Empyrean, no special-assistant position. No future at all if he were executed. The Empire didn’t allow traitors to spend their lives in prison, let alone go free.
And yet, if it meant Ember would be free, he would do it all over again. For the thousandth time, he wondered whether it had worked. Had she somehow made it through the fray? Had she joined the Union, or had she chosen to go back to her sick father and leave all this behind?
The realization hit him like a sudden blast of air. The emperor had kept Stefan alive because of his connection to Ember. That meant she was alive somewhere, still a threat to the Empire.
Stefan grinned as relief flooded his body. He’d succeeded. Whatever happened to him now, at least he’d done exactly what his grandmother foretold. He could face his fate with a smile.
“Commander Kane thought highly of you,” the emperor said, his frown deepening at Stefan’s expression. “Said he would have taken you for his assistant had it not been for the girl’s unique ability. Yet on your first opportunity to prove yourself, you betrayed your entire flicker unit. He never knew how selfish you truly were.”
Stefan flinched. He didn’t regret helping Ember, but it hadn’t been easy to betray those who looked up to him. “I wanted what’s best for the people of the Empire. I still do.”
The emperor leaned forward as if ready to leap right through the screen, the sudden movement causing his features to blur. The antiaging tech struggled to soften the lines around his eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s best for the Empire, foolish boy,” he snapped. “It’s respecting your betters, obeying your superiors, and executing orders with a swift hand, even when you don’t understand. Especially when you don’t understand. Commander Kane was a harsh man, but he held important duties in the realm. Now I must find someone else equally worthy.”
The emperor’s eyes, as unrealistic as they looked, burned with anger. Stefan’s gaze slid to the floor again.
“I’m gathering a group of candidates. You will be one of them.”
The tablet in Stefan’s hands slipped again, but he managed to catch it in time. He wiped his perspiring hands on his trousers and tightened his grip on the device. He must have heard wrong. Stefan was a traitor, a prisoner up for execution. Not a candidate for high commander over the emperor’s entire flicker force.
The guard on the other side of the glass gaped at Stefan now. The woman just scowled.
“Y-your Eminence?” Stefan asked, wondering if this were a sick joke.
The emperor continued as if Stefan hadn’t spoken. “There are six others, including two experienced flicker officers with decades of experience behind them. But experience is only one factor to be tested in the coming days. There’s one thing I require of my candidates before they can win Kane’s title.”
Understanding dawned. “You want Ember.”
“The candidate who brings her to me wins. Of course, she’ll likely be with the Union leaders, so they will essentially be handing over the location of the last Union base as well.”
Something brushed Stefan’s mental shield, yanking his attention to the two individuals standing at the glass. The guard looked a little more composed now, but Stephan knew the certain focus in the woman’s gaze.
She was a flicker.
The emperor obviously employed a personal
assistant to read his enemies. Tonight, that included Stefan. He tested his inner shield, grateful to see it was holding. Her touch had been subtle, though—nearly indiscernible. He would have to be on his guard at all times. If that woman came in while he slept . . .
He shook the thought away and focused on the emperor’s words. “I helped Ember escape. You can’t possibly think I’d bring her back to you.” He paused, then added, “Your Eminence.”
“Consider this. If you do, she’ll be returned to my service under your jurisdiction. Much kinder than the alternative. Some of my officers are quite, shall we say, ruthless.”
Stefan’s heart raced. The Union and the Empire were bound to clash again, and soon. If the emperor was right about Ember being with them, she was far from safe. Especially if six other candidates were determined to catch her first. “And if I refuse?”
“You die, here and now.”
Stefan swallowed. It was exactly what he had expected, but this new revelation complicated matters. If he allowed himself to be executed and Ember’s location was discovered, she’d be completely on her own. Maybe he could warn her, perhaps even deflect the Empire’s efforts to find her. And if she were discovered, he would find a way to get her to safety—permanently this time.
“It’s hard to turn down an offer like that,” Stefan said with a chuckle. The room remained silent. He cleared his throat. “But there is one problem, High One. Everyone on this ship probably knows what I’ve done. Wouldn’t setting me free reflect badly on the Empire?”
“Few know the full extent of your treachery, thankfully. If that were not the case, you would be dead already.” The emperor paused, his voice wavering. Catching his breath? The tech made it difficult to tell. “Those who saw you sprinting through the corridors carrying an unconscious girl will be told your destination was the med deck. The girl overpowered you and you were found slumped near the escape-pod dock.”
