by Rebecca Rode
Ember sat straight, remembering the twins. “That reminds me. You’re not the only Olvenack here, Mar. Remember those twins who went missing?”
There was a sharp intake of breath, and Mar stiffened. “No.”
“Yes. Maybe you can all find a way home together. Once this is all over, of course.”
“When it’s over.” There was doubt in her voice. It probably seemed like an impossible dream to her too. “So Brennan and Reina are on your flicker team. That’s . . . interesting.”
Ember tensed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She hesitated as if gathering her thoughts. “Look, my planet is dying. The Empire demands our best seafood catches as homage every year, which means there isn’t enough left for us to sell when they’re gone. And they keep taking our most skilled workers. The poor keep getting poorer, and the rich leave the moment they can. Everyone knows we’re weak. Since our safety’s in obedience, we’re raised with the expectation that we’ll be loyal and cooperate no matter what. If my people knew I was fighting against the Empire, I’d never be reaccepted.” Her cheeks colored a bit. “I’ll admit I’m not surprised Brennan joined the Union. He’s always been ready to leave home and take on the bad guys. But Reina? I’m not sure I would trust her, Ember. In fact, I’d be careful trusting any of these people.”
First Dai, and now Mar. Ember cocked her head, examining her friend. “So you’re just waiting around until it’s safe to go home.”
“I think most of these people are. They’re well-fed and housed here. There really isn’t anywhere else for them to go. Despite what that Daughter woman likes to think, this isn’t an army. It’s a glorified refugee camp.”
Ember shifted uncomfortably in her chair. These people had spent their lives beaten down by the Empire. Compared to the emperor, the Daughter looked like a guardian angel. They’d contributed just enough to be allowed to stay, hoping their lives wouldn’t be required as well. Until Ember came along. Now that the Daughter had her secret weapon, there was a good chance these people would suffer for their allegiance. How long before the losses were insurmountable and their loyalties shattered?
Mar rose from her chair and crouched next to Ember, her expression more serious than Ember had ever seen it. “Look. As much as I want to go home, if you really want to help these people, I’ll stay too. I promised Stefan I’d keep you safe, and I will.” A shadow crossed her face at Stefan’s name.
Ember’s insides ached. Stefan had asked Mar to keep her safe? That exchange must have taken place before their escape on the emergency pod. It sounded exactly like him.
“That said,” Mar continued, “you and I both know the Union doesn’t have a chance.”
“They do.” Ember was surprised the words escaped so easily. “This isn’t just a hiding place, Mar. They’re determined to win.”
“To win what? It’s not like the Daughter will remove homages and return power of governance to the individual systems. She’s always supported strict military power and heavily regulated travel. I heard she refuses to speak anything but Common.”
Ember shook her head as Mar spoke. “She’ll need to be convinced, but she’s the best option we have right now.”
“No, she’s not. If there’s anyone who can draw the Empire and Union together, it’s you.”
“Me?” Ember barked a laugh. “Never. Absolutely not.”
“These people worship you, Ember. They’re terrified of you, but they’re awed by you, too. My roommates talk of nothing else.” She frowned. “They know I’m your friend, Ember. Dawn to dusk, it’s been nothing but questions. ‘What’s Lady Flare like?’ ‘Did she really stop the entire battle by herself just by willing it?’ ‘Do the stars obey her? Is she immortal like the emperor?’ I swear, if this continues, I’m kidnapping you and heading home anyway.”
Ember made her way back to her chair. She sat with her legs tucked beneath her, something she could have never done with a skirt. “And what did you tell them?”
“I wasn’t sure what to say.” She stared at her hands. “You never tell me anything. I don’t understand your gift any more than they do.”
Ember wanted to explain, to put her friend’s mind at rest. But then, she knew Neraline’s warning would come to the surface and Mar would urge her to heed it. And Ember couldn’t do that. Not when it meant breaking the trust she’d gained with her flickers today. Not when it meant giving up Stefan and forgetting about her father. Not when it meant giving up her very purpose.
Mar threw her hands in the air. “See what I mean? I thought we were friends, but friends talk to each other. You can’t even do that.” She returned to her seat and regarded Ember with a cool stare. “Tell me this. If you had a choice between taking down the Empire and saving Stefan, which would you choose?”
Ember shook her head. “I won’t have to choose.”
“But if you did.”
“They’re basically the same thing.”
“And if they’re not? I’m serious. If you had to choose between the Daughter and Stefan, whose side would you be on?”
Stefan had abandoned his future as an Empire officer to help Ember escape. He’d chosen her over everything he ever wanted. “My goal was always rescue Stefan.”
Mar nodded hesitantly. “But?”
“I can’t rest until the Empire crumbles to dust.” She felt the truth of her words.
Mar looked troubled. “Ember, I trust you, and I want Stefan to be safe too. Believe me. But is this really your only option? I wonder if this is all affecting you. I mean, you’ve lost your father and your people and even your home. It’s possible you don’t have a clear head about all this. The Empire wants you more than anyone in history. If they catch you, you’ll wish you were dead.”
It was ironic—Mar believed Ember was too emotional, and Neraline worried about Ember growing too hard. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t change my mind.”
Mar nodded, resigned. “You really believe we can win, then?”
“We must.”
“Said like a true flare,” Mar said with a chuckle. “Then I’ll try to believe it too.” She sat back in her chair and looked around the room now as if eager for a change of subject. “Your quarters are larger than mine. You could almost fit a second bed in here.” A pause. “I have a brilliant idea.”
“Which is?”
“You don’t think—well, what if we were roommates? I could help protect you from the crazies, and you wouldn’t be so stoic and alone all the time.”
Ember tensed again, then forced herself to consider the possibility for her friend’s sake. She hadn’t realized how lonely her life had gotten since arriving here, despite being surrounded by people.
She’d felt that way much of her life. A part of society and yet an outsider. Bianca had once served the role of keeping Ember sane, of easing her pain at losing her mother, at helping her feel she still had a future ahead. And then Ember had repaid her by joining the Union and fighting the Empire. Instead of saving her own people, she’d been the cause of their destruction.
Ember was a flare. The stars never meant for her to live a normal life, to have a normal future. Normal women had roommates and stayed up late chatting about their futures and men. But that was finished for Ember. Bianca had paid a terrible price for Ember’s friendship. She couldn’t do that to Mar as well.
“I prefer the solitude,” she finally said, flashing an apologetic smile. “But I’m glad you came to visit. You’re always welcome.”
Mar’s grin froze. She’d been looking around the room as if measuring it with her gaze, already placing furniture in her mind. Now the mirth in her eyes was replaced with hurt. “Oh.”
“There’s so much going on, and with the stress of training—I just need some space, you know?”
Mar rose to her feet and made her way to the door. “I can definitely give you that. I’ll just go back to your fan club now.”
“Mar, I’m sorry.”
“I know what you’re trying to
do, and you can’t drive me away. I’ll keep my distance.” She yanked the door open. “But if you do anything stupid, it’s on your own head.”
Then she slipped through the door and closed it, leaving the room in silence once again.
Chapter 6
The emperor’s assistant didn’t simply walk. She prowled. The black-clad woman stepped softly, peering around corners, investigating every cranny of the ship as she led Stefan to his new office. It was almost like she was searching for someone she really didn’t want to find. The woman appeared to have forgotten about Stefan trying to keep pace behind her.
He’d considered breaking away a dozen times now. It was tempting—they’d passed several emergency pods, and in this new uniform—a candidate’s uniform, deep blue with a single golden patch on the arm and the number one—he would blend in. But he wasn’t entirely free. A tall guard with short pink hair walked smartly behind him. Her strides were much longer than his, and she barked irritably when he slowed. Talon, one of Commander Kane’s favorites. Interesting she’d ended up here, escorting a freshly pardoned prisoner to his new office.
The assistant halted and peered around another corner as a pair of soldiers across the corridor stopped to watch them, looking amused. Stefan, his guard, and the emperor’s assistant were certainly an oddity in the dreary sameness of these halls.
He still couldn’t comprehend that the emperor’s personal assistant was escorting him. Had she seen the emperor in person? Was she one of the few who had? What secrets did this woman know? She had to be in her twenties—too young to have served him long.
The assistant disappeared around the corner.
“Go,” Stephan’s guard said, shoving him from behind. He obeyed—and plowed right into the assistant, who had stopped in her tracks.
A large man with thinning hair blocked their way, his posture stiff, his expression anything but. He wore a brilliant smile and a candidate uniform like Stefan’s. The number on his patch read four.
“Why, Harpen,” he boomed. “It’s good to see you out and about. I assume the emperor is well, then?”
The assistant scowled at Stefan as if he’d run into her intentionally. Then she stepped around the large man, calling out over her shoulder, “Return to your duties, candidate. There’s work to be done.”
“I have High Commander Zandar’s endorsement for the candidacy, Harpen. I know how to work harder than anyone else here.” At the sight of Stefan, the large man’s smile widened. “So, this is my greatest competition for Kane’s seat. A personal escort from Harpen herself, eh? Quite an honor.” He leaned forward. “Or maybe the emperor doesn’t trust you as much as he pretends. Just like the rest of us.”
“Move along,” Stefan’s guard said, her long fingers closing around his shoulders and pressing him forward.
He swiped the guard’s hand away and glowered at her. “Don’t touch me again, soldier. I’m perfectly capable of walking down the corridor by myself.”
The pink-haired guard didn’t budge. “Conversations with your competitors is strongly discouraged. Particularly this one.” She glared down at the man, who despite his height was a foot below her chin.
Candidate Four smirked back. “I don’t care what the official story is. I know what you did, boy, and I’m going to make sure you pay for it. After I beat publicly your lying hind end into the floor. You’ll be calling me high commander before long.”
Stefan allowed him a polite smile, although his insides were a tumult of knots. If there were others like him who doubted Stefan’s motives, they would make his job even harder. Not only would he have to find Ember before the others, he’d have to do it while covering his backside. “I’m sure our differences will be resolved soon enough, Candidate Four. If you’ll excuse me.” He turned to follow Harpen.
“Don’t pretend you belong here, boy, because you don’t,” the man called after him.
Stefan raised an eyebrow as he walked away, the tall guard at his side.
I couldn’t agree more, sir. Couldn’t agree more.
They reached Stefan’s office several minutes later. The screen on the door was blank, indicating it had been wiped of its owner’s name. It opened as Harpen approached.
Stefan’s breath caught. He’d been here before. “K-Kane’s office?”
The guard gave him a sharp look, but Harpen didn’t seem surprised. “He had several, all duplicates of this one. He spent the most time here. It’s been cleaned and wiped of any trace of him, all ready for its next master.” What she didn’t say was clear—she hadn’t said it was ready for Stefan specifically. “His Eminence requested you occupy it for now. The others all have assigned offices already.”
It was obviously a room meant for a high commander. The ceilings were higher, the windows wide. A heavy desk sat in the center of the room, and locked cabinets lined one wall. A series of soft chairs created a seating area near the desk, all a dark blue, like Stefan’s uniform. A side table boasted a single decoration—an ironboar stone, he thought it was called. A rare meteor from sector eight, expensive and unbreakable, lavish and very much Kane.
The air felt heavy, as if the doors hadn’t been opened in a while. If Stefan concentrated, he could almost smell the man’s scent. When had he last been here? Before flicker testing began, most likely. And now it would be occupied by a traitor.
Harpen watched him now, examining him in that catlike way of hers. He checked his shield again, grateful it held. He’d have to guard his thoughts carefully when she was around. Perhaps even when she wasn’t.
“Workers are scheduled to come in and retrieve Kane’s old cabinets soon,” Harpen finally said, “but for now this will work fine. Your credentials are preprogrammed into the desk screen. Your assistant can show you how to access the network. The official pardon has already been issued, but you’ll still be watched more carefully than your competitors. That can’t be helped. They’re all a day ahead of you, so you’ll want to get to work. I trust I don’t have to remind you what is at stake.”
He knew. If Stefan failed and another candidate was chosen, he would suddenly become disposable. The Empire’s official story on his part in Ember’s escape would change. He’d be executed immediately—and likely in a very public way.
Which was why he had to find Ember before the others—and then escape.
A slender woman in her forties entered, scowling. “Karyl reporting for your orders, sir.”
Stefan blinked. His assistant. Of course he’d have one, although she didn’t seem too happy to be assigned to him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Stefan.”
“I know.”
The guard emitted a low, rumbling chuckle that turned into a cough. Harpen rolled her eyes and strode to the door. “Talon, your post is outside the door. Nobody but Karyl has authorization to enter. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Talon said through gritted teeth, turning to follow. Karyl wasn’t the only one who resented her new station. They must have transferred Talon here after Kane’s death. The pink-haired woman’s head barely cleared the door as she exited.
He turned to Karyl, who stood with arms folded, waiting impatiently.
“I, uh,” he began, fingering the intricate molding of the desk trim. The office was suddenly quiet, the corridors silent. This had to be a controlled section of the ship.
“You don’t know where to start, do you?” Karyl asked with a smirk. “Sir.” She spat the last word as if it were a joke.
Stefan strode over to the desk and swiped the screen. Welcome, sir. What can I do for you today? it read.
“No,” he said, thinking of Candidate Four. “I don’t. But I’m a little more motivated than the others. I need to find somebody, and I’m going to need your help.”
“The gypsy woman, the flare. They’ve briefed me already.”
Roma, Ember would have corrected. The memory of her endearing scowl warmed him. “I need you to find out what the others are doing.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You want me t
o spy on the others? But why?”
“Because I plan to do the opposite of what they’re doing.” And because I need to know if they get close. “Do you know their assistants well?”
“A few of them.” She looked uncomfortable. “Sir.”
“See what you can do. In the meantime, I need access to the security cameras of this ship. I have some readings to perform.”
Now she gaped at him, horrified. “You don’t have clearance for that! This is the highest—” Her voice trailed off as if she’d said too much.
Highest security? Highest ship? If all the other candidates were on this ship, maybe there was a higher level of security as well. Possibly even several high commanders. What made this particular ship so special?
“Pity,” he said. “I guess I’ll be taking a stroll around the ship, then. I’ll go in about an hour.”
“You can’t just read everyone,” Karyl snapped. “That must break some kind of regulation.”
“Not when it means securing this ship from danger. And I’ll bet you the priciest drink on the rec deck the other candidates have already done exactly the same thing.”
He’d gone too far. Karyl’s eyes narrowed. “You do not have my permission to read me, flicker. And you certainly won’t be buying me any drinks. I want to be the next high commander’s assistant, and I intend to reach the post with or without your help.”
He chuckled. She was perfect. “So you’ll investigate, then?”
“As far as it’s ethical, yes. May I be excused, sir?”
“Yes, and thank you.”
She turned before he’d finished speaking and stalked toward the door.
When it slid closed behind her, Stefan sat at his desk and eyed the screen. Welcome, sir, it still read. At least the screen was amiable enough. Although the word sir felt as ridiculous to him as it seemed to Karyl. He was a fraud, a liar. Just a few weeks ago, he’d only dreamed of occupying this desk. And now here he was, his life hanging in the balance, and he felt completely calm. Well, almost.
“Give me the names of all the candidates for Commander Kane’s position,” he said.
