Ember in Space The Collection

by Rebecca Rode

  That last part was true. He’d been fighting off soldiers one moment, then awakened here. He’d managed to glean a few details from his guards—the entire ship had been affected by an “oxygen pump malfunction” during the battle. Everyone had awakened to find the Union gone and the other Empire ships frantically calling in, asking what had happened.

  Stefan knew. There was no other explanation. It was hard to believe that the woman he’d held in his arms just over a week before—the uncertain flicker with the deep, warm eyes and quiet manner—had the power to level nations. It was dizzying to think about.

  He had to save her. If Ember was right about their gifts being bestowed by the stars, he had obviously survived for a reason. She was supposed to shape the universe around herself, but that hadn’t happened yet. Perhaps his part in her prophecy wasn’t over after all.

  Stefan drew himself up and fixed his gaze squarely on the most powerful man alive. “I accept your offer, High One. Let the race begin.”

  Chapter 5

  Ember knew this would be a difficult task the moment she stepped foot into the “gym.”

  The room was essentially a tethered platform with walls. Several skylights above allowed sunlight to enter in orderly bars of brightness that settled on nearly two dozen heads. Women and men stood around, chatting casually. None wore uniforms. Some even wore Empire-issued trousers.

  No, there was nothing casual about these people, Ember realized. Their conversation seemed harmless enough—the weather, training, the Daughter. Last night’s overcooked meal, a date gone wrong. But there was a tension here, a restless discomfort that made Ember wonder where the Daughter had found them.

  Ember reached out inwardly. The flickers were all shielded, some more strongly than others. Those would be the Empire flickers, the ones who’d grown up in the preparation program, like Stefan. They’d failed and then managed to escape the Empire’s clutches.

  She’d been gentle in her touch, but as she pulled away, a man abruptly turned to face her. He looked to be a year or two older and wore his hair in the same knotted way Mar always did. Recognition registered in his eyes, and he inclined his head. “Lady Flare.”

  Silence fell upon the room as two dozen people turned to face her. Their expressions ranged from wariness to interest. A few even looked angry.

  “It’s Ember, not Lady Flare,” she said. “The Daughter has assigned me to be your instructor.”

  Somebody snorted.

  Ember lifted an eyebrow, scanning the crowd, but the offender didn’t step forward. She went on. “Our purpose here is to prepare for battle. I look forward to serving with each of you.”

  “I doubt that,” a female voice muttered. This time Ember knew exactly who had spoken—a woman standing next to the first man, her arms folded. The two had similar features, although the woman was two inches taller. The sharpness of her eyes contradicted her uncaring manner. Her black hair wound about her head in a series of sideways rings for a dizzying effect.

  The group stirred at Ember’s silence, and the whispers began. Empire officers were strict disciplinarians, but this wasn’t the Empire. And Ember was no officer. She was far from qualified to teach them anything, and everyone in this room knew it.

  Ember decided to ignore the woman’s comment. “I hope we won’t face battle anytime soon. But I intend to do my part to prepare you for it.”

  “Prepare us?” The woman snorted again. “You, a gypsy who’s probably never held a weapon in her life? Not to mention you’re the most dangerous and unpredictable person in the universe. It’s not another battle I’m concerned about.”

  “Shut your mouth, Reina,” the man next to her said. “Who else was supposed to train us. You?”

  “I have more training than she does, that much is certain.” She glowered at Ember. “And I actually care whether we live or die.”

  “I agree,” a boy near the back said. Ember was stunned to see a child here, much less an Albine. The boy was white from his hair to his pale skin. He couldn’t have been older than nine Standard years, but his discomforting clear eyes held the wisdom of a man. He stepped into one of the beams of light, which gave him an angelic effect. “Considering what we’ve heard about you, Lady Flare, you are an odd choice.”

  His doubt was reflected in the eyes of most of the group. The men and women directly in front of Ember shifted their feet, staring at the ground. They didn’t dare question the Daughter’s wisdom, but Ember could tell they’d heard things. Terrible things.

  All true.

  For a moment Ember found herself back on the rec deck with hundreds of strangers staring at her. Seeing her differently now that she could rip the very life from a person with a single thought. No wonder these flickers didn’t trust her. She didn’t entirely trust herself.

  That’s why I’m here, Neraline had said. I had to warn you to stop using your gift.

  Reina spat on the floor and approached Ember. The woman’s spittle landed near a large man’s boot, but he simply stepped out of her way.

  “We know what you did, flare,” Reina said. “I can’t believe you have the nerve to stand there preaching to us about how you’ll lead us to victory.”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” the man with the knotted hair said. “The Daughter said they forced her to do it. You heard it too.”

  “But what’s to stop her from turning on us in the middle of a battle? She’s the perfect spy. She could take us all out in a second, Brennan. Every single one of us. It would be nothing to her.”

  A sharp intake of breath came from somewhere in the middle of the group. Ember wasn’t sure whether someone was shocked that Reina had spoken so frankly or because the thought was too horrible to contemplate.

  Ember didn’t completely trust the Daughter, yet she was following the woman’s orders. She hadn’t considered that her flicker team might be doing the same thing. Were they here to pull the Empire down or because they had nowhere else to go? If only Ember knew where she fit into that.

  “If you’ll shut up, maybe she’ll explain,” a bald teenage girl shot back at Reina, who directed her glare in that direction now.

  There was nothing to explain. This was a mistake. She didn’t deserve to teach these people. If anything, she had much to learn from them. But she couldn’t save Stefan without the Daughter’s help, and that meant going along with whatever foolish plan the woman dreamed up. She’d find a way to make this work.

  “I know I make you uncomfortable,” Ember said. She made herself uncomfortable. “You wish for a leader who holds powers you understand, someone like you. Someone whose motives are clearly in line with yours. A leader you can trust.”

  “You’re not what we expected, is all,” the first man, Brennan, said. “It’s not necessarily that we don’t trust you. Our instructors so far have been flickers, but you—you’re something more.” A redness crept into his cheeks.

  “Have you forgotten what she did?” Reina asked, looking around the room. “I don’t care what she says. Because of her, we had the most disastrous battle in Union history. And yet here she is, completely unapologetic and trying to take over our unit. Sorry, but I don’t buy any of it.”

  “You’re looking at it all wrong,” the teenage girl snapped. “She got away from the Empire. But instead of running far away, she joined us to fight. That’s got to count for something. Besides, it might be nice to have a flare on our side for once.”

  The group went quiet. Many looked thoughtful as they considered Ember. She shifted her feet under their gaze, wishing she could turn around and leave the room for good. But then she fixed Stefan’s face rigidly in her mind.

  She needed these flickers as much as they needed her, and that felt as much like home as anything right now.

  “I’m not here to lie to you,” she said. “I won’t even say I can turn the tide of this war. Reina is right that I don’t have years of experience serving the Union against the Empire. Truthfully, I didn’t know you existed until just weeks ago. But
we do share one very important pain the others will never understand. The Empire stripped me of my humanity, my freedom, and my father.”

  Her voice broke, and she took a moment to gather her composure. The Empire had stolen so much more than that. A big piece of Ember was gone. Her village, her culture, her identity. It felt as if the entire universe were changed now.

  “They wanted me to become something hard and unyielding,” she continued. “A mindless, obedient weapon. Many of you experienced this as well.”

  The boy was the first to nod, his expression hard. Ember’s heart clenched at the sight of it. So young. What had he been through to end up here? None of the adults hovered near him like a parent would. He seemed as alone as Ember.

  Perhaps Neraline was right. Perhaps she did hold a dangerous power. But at her core, Ember was a person in pain—a woman trying to place the broken pieces of her life into a shape that made sense. And based on the expressions of those around her, she wasn’t the only one.

  She continued, her voice growing hard and flat. “You see me as an outsider, but we’re far more similar than we are different. Each of you has lost something to the Empire—a loved one, a former life. The opportunity to live where and how you please. I can’t promise we will succeed, and I can’t bring back those you love. But I do believe that freedom, at least, is within our grasp. I swear to you I’ll do everything in my power to achieve it.”

  There were several others nodding now. Some stared at the ground, looking wistful, as if remembering loved ones they’d lost, likely at Ember’s hand. Reina scowled and examined her fingernails.

  “That’s exactly why we’re here,” Brennan said, stepping forward. He crossed the empty section of floor between Ember and the group and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Reina here is my twin sister. She speaks her mind, but she’s harmless. She may take awhile to come around, but I’m behind you 100 percent.”

  Ember eyed the others, who seemed to be having a whispered discussion. She resisted the urge to eavesdrop. “And where are you from, Brennan?”

  “Olvenack—a water planet in the eighth sector. Failed the Empire’s flicker testing, although now I’m glad of it. We can be here with you, taking down the emperor.” He grinned and released her hand, a bit of color rising in his cheeks again.

  Ember blinked. Mar was an Olvenack as well. She’d told Ember about a set of twins who’d failed Empire testing and sent word they were coming home, but they never arrived.

  Mar had been so sure of their quiet execution, but Ember always assumed they were sent to Commander Kane’s planet. It appeared they were both wrong.

  Mar. Where had she ended up, anyway? As a flicker, she should have been here for training. Had the Daughter given her a different assignment? She’d have to ask Amai when she saw her next. Mar would be happy to know the long-lost twins were alive and happy.

  Well, maybe not happy. Reina leaned against the wall now, her arms folded, her expression dark enough to eclipse the sun.

  The others turned back to Ember. “We’ve decided to give you a chance, Lady Flare,” a man in front said, his voice curt. They remained clumped together in a group as if afraid to approach her as Brennan had.

  Ember gave them her most comforting smile despite his use of the title. She’d have to earn their trust, that much was certain. “Thank you. Brennan, I need some introductions. I’d like to learn names.”

  As Brennan pointed out individuals, only some of whom stepped forward, Ember kept a count in her mind. Roughly 60 percent of these flickers were failed Empire subjects. Another 30 percent had escaped the Empire before testing, and the remaining ten had never been discovered. The latter group hid in the background, afraid to speak up, except for the nine-year-old boy, Bex. Ember could imagine their lives as quiet ones before the Union came along.

  Ember had lived that way too, growing up in a shelter of her father’s making. She’d resented his overprotective nature for so long. Now she would give anything for the opportunity to tell him she understood.

  The bald teenage girl who’d defended Ember approached before Brennan could say her name. “Syd,” she said and wrapped her arms around Ember. “And I know you didn’t want to hurt anyone that day. I think it’s great you’re trying to make everything right.”

  Ember realized she’d gone stiff and tried to relax. “Thank you.”

  “That’s everyone,” Brennan finally said. “Where shall we begin, Lady Flare? I mean, Ember.”

  She’d come with a training plan, but that could wait for another day. “I’d love a demonstration. Show me what you can do.”

  The group settled into some semblance of a circle, shoving out their best fighters and insisting they begin sparring. Their stances were a bit lighter and less wary, although none dared come as close to Ember as Brennan and Syd had. Ember stood back to watch, guilt heavy in her stomach. She had just promised to avenge the hundreds of deaths she’d caused. Was that even possible? Could she do that while taking down the Empire and freeing Stefan at the same time?

  Was Ember a mourning Roma woman looking for a home or a powerful flare destined to defeat a dictator? A girl seeking to free the man she loved or the assassin the Daughter wanted her to be? The trainer or the weapon itself?

  The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.

  She wasn’t sure who that person was. And unfortunately, she didn’t have much longer to decide.

  After dinner that night, Ember was planning the next day’s training session when she sensed somebody stopping at her building. The lights of the door guards—there were three of them now—brightened with concern. She plunged immediately into the visitor’s light only to find them shielded, but the traces she could sense revealed her visitor was not Harlow but a woman.

  Not Neraline either, thankfully. She would have preferred to face Harlow. Bianca, perhaps?

  Her heart raced as she steeled herself for what that could mean. Would her dear friend finally forgive her? Did she have an interest in listening to Ember’s side of the story? Was Bianca as lonely as Ember? She imagined nights of chatting like they once did, discussing their futures and the village boys they’d once believed so foolish.

  The thought was hollow, immature. It may as well have happened in the pre-Empire days. Those carefree nights, giggling and planning with Bianca, were gone forever, as well as their home and the village men they loved—Bianca’s husband and son, and Ember’s father.

  She probed a little deeper and frowned. The light she sensed seemed familiar, but it wasn’t Bianca’s. It was Mar’s.

  Disappointment stabbed Ember’s gut, and she folded her arms across her chest, inwardly scolding herself. Of course it wasn’t Bianca. She wouldn’t have been shielded. Bianca didn’t even know what that meant. And what Ember had done to her—that could never, ever be forgiven. Time to accept that for good.

  The knock came a moment later—a gentle tap followed by a clearing of the throat. Obviously nervous, the door guard hesitated in addressing the infamous flare. “Lady—”

  “Let her in,” Ember interrupted.

  A pause. “Yes, ma’am, but she’s not on the approved list. Says her name—”

  “—is Mar, yes. She has my approval to come whenever she wants.” Ember was already at the door. She slid the bolt open and allowed her friend to enter.

  Mar pushed past the scowling guard and plopped herself into the other chair with a sigh as Ember shut the door again. She wore her traditional four knotted ponytails, although her usual energy was absent. “Those guys are serious out there. You’d think I was trying to break in and murder you or—hey, what in the stars happened to your neck?”

  Ember’s fingers went to her throat before she could stop them. “You weren’t far off. My last visitor attempted exactly that.”

  “Who could—why would someone . . .” Mar broke off with wide eyes, then sighed. “I guess I know the answer to that.”

  So she’d seen it too—the relucta
nce, the suspicion. The buried anger. Ember felt grateful for the added guards, but three seemed so insufficient now.

  Don’t rely on them. She needed to protect herself, not trust others to do it for her. If she couldn’t avoid an assassin in the night, she’d never be ready to face the emperor.

  Ember changed the subject. “So where did they put you? I assumed you’d be in my flicker unit.”

  “I don’t get it,” Mar said. “I’m staying with all the other flickers, but they assigned me to planetary security. I have, like, three days of Empire security training under my belt. Not even that. It makes no sense.”

  It did to Ember. A flicker would be perfect for the position, and there couldn’t be many of those with any experience at all.

  But there was another reason Ember had worried all day. So far the Daughter had isolated Ember from everyone she’d known on the Empire ship. She rarely saw Amai, Mar had been reassigned, and Bianca seemed to have disappeared. The fact that Mar wasn’t on the guards’ guest list just proved that further. Either they wanted Ember focused on her role here or the Daughter didn’t trust them to be together.

  Ember couldn’t say she trusted herself either, but that was beside the point.

  “If it makes you feel better,” she told Mar, “I feel much safer with you watching over us.”

  Mar grumbled something indistinguishable, then sighed. Her freckles appeared to run together in the poor lighting, giving her skin a two-toned appearance. “It’s nice to be needed somewhere, I guess. It’s not like I can go home anytime soon.”

  “Why not?” She’d assumed Mar would find a way home relatively soon. She didn’t appear all that invested in their purpose here.

  Mar gave her a strange look. “Well, I can’t exactly walk there. Without a ship, I’m stuck. And even if I managed to find a ship headed that way, the Empire is watching for me. It’s too dangerous for my family.”