Ember in Space The Collection

by Rebecca Rode

  Er’len hadn’t budged with Ember’s encroachment, though she eyed Ember’s hands with distaste. “You will leave now. If you still care about our cause, you will keep what you’ve learned here a secret.” She didn’t move a finger, but the door Ember had entered through opened. The person on the other end of the camera had to be controlling the door.

  Bex. He was still here somewhere. “Let me say goodbye to your nephew.”

  “Unwise. He called you a hero, but I see you’re nothing more than a child with a taste of power. Best he remembers his imagined version of you instead. Now go.”

  Chapter 17

  Er’len’s words gripped Ember’s mind as she stumbled along, looking for an alley to hide in while she figured this out. It hadn’t occurred to her that her journey might be in vain. She’d come all this way, leaving her people completely exposed. Leaving Stefan unprotected.

  Flickers rely too much on fate.

  Stefan believed Ember would reshape the universe. So did her followers. But it was just one prophecy, from just one flicker. A few years later, a different prophecy had been uttered, one about the emperor’s daughter setting the universe on a path that would ultimately lead to the destruction of nearly every race. Ember was the last remnant of the daughter’s path to reclaim her throne. Were the two prophecies indeed opposites, or did they confirm together that Ember would eventually lose herself and terrorize the realm?

  Dai said the stars were never wrong, and Er’len said they often were. Only one of them could be correct. If Dai was right, Ember had a set course before her—but it also meant Stefan would die if Ruben caught him. If Er’len was correct, Ember was chasing an imaginary dream when she could have been with Stefan now, enjoying their time together.

  Ahead lay a dark alley shadowed by tall buildings on either side. She stood and examined it, watching for movement, but saw only a cat curled up in a spot of sun near the entrance. As she watched, the cat raised its head and blinked sleepily. It regarded Ember for a long moment, then stood and walked away. Fine. She didn’t want company anyway.

  She made her way inside, shivering at the temperature in the shade, and sat against the building, her legs pulled up to her chest. Pedestrians walked by without a glance, people headed off to work, to appointments, to the market. None seemed to care that the Albine woman in the alley was really the flare prophesied to save them. She certainly didn’t feel like a savior right now.

  Her anger rose steadily as the late-morning chill permeated her clothing. She wanted to tear off the ridiculous Albine costume and fling it across the alley. How dare that woman summon her here and then dismiss her as if she were nobody? She could have snuffed the woman’s life as she sat there, yet she had the nerve to act unafraid and unaffected. Ember should have shown the woman what she could do. She should have . . .

  What? Hurt her?

  Ember blinked. Weeks ago she would never have considered hurting someone. Ever. Especially a person trying to save the very people Ember claimed to serve. You have a greater sensitivity than most, yet you choose to employ only the darkest parts of your gift. Stars above. What was wrong with her?

  Ember closed her eyes and let her weight press against the cold, hard surface behind her. She allowed the noise of the streets to fade away and focused on the anger that protected her heart. It pulsed like a bright light, hot and consuming. It pointed at Lazarus Kane, at the mob boss, at Ruben, at Bianca. At everyone but herself. As she examined it, she realized something.

  It wasn’t anger. It was pain.

  She’d buried it so deeply the shadow had gathered it instead. It served as the kindling that stoked the fire consuming the Ember she had once been. It was just as Neraline had predicted. The more Ember used her power, the longer her connection with her soul lasted—and the more tainted it became. Now she could barely tell the difference between the two. She was anger. She was pain.

  Now that Ember saw the truth, it was all too obvious. She’d tried so desperately to push away the pain that it was consuming her. Stefan had tried to tell her for weeks. Until she addressed it, it would continue to spread like an infected wound. Even a complete stranger like Er’len could see that much.

  Was this what her father had gone through? Dai spent his childhood in a breeding program being trained for military intelligence. How many hours had he spent wondering who his parents were, where they were, and what his place was?

  And Ruben. He’d grown up mourning his mother’s death, wishing his high-commander father would return. Watching his father flaunt another boy’s talents in his face, calling another his pride and joy. When had he started experiencing his own flare abilities? When had he made the decision to hide them from his greedy father? How long had he practiced, unknowingly merging soul and shadow until the two were inseparable?

  For the first time, Ember felt sorry for Ruben. At least she’d had Neraline’s warning. Ruben hadn’t known to fight at all.

  Her pain would not make her an anger-consumed weapon. It would give her purpose. Focus. Strength. Resolve. Her ability was merely the tool she needed to complete the task ahead of her, not her entire identity. Stefan was absolutely right. Where was he now? Had her betrayal pushed him to dismiss her and move on? There were plenty of eligible women in the revolution, and he was widely admired. She imagined another in his arms and flinched at the sudden pain in her chest.

  “Lady Flare?”

  Ember’s head jerked up and she blinked. “Bex.”

  The boy knelt in front of her. “I’m not supposed to be here, but I had to see you.” He grinned, looking exactly as he had a few months before, except his hair was tidier and his cheeks more full. At least Er’len made sure he ate well.

  “I’m so glad you made it home safely.” Ember’s smile was genuine, if weak.

  “I heard what happened. I’m sure my aunt will give you another chance eventually. She’s just a little stressed these days.” He made a face. “I’ll find another flicker to read you and prove you’re not bad. Maybe even two. She can’t ignore that.”

  A sad resignation filled her as she looked upon her young friend. All the flickers in the world wouldn’t change Er’len’s mind. As far as that woman was concerned, flickers—and flares—were completely irrelevant to her plan. Whatever it was.

  This would all be so much easier if Er’len was wrong. But she wasn’t.

  “Are you really a flicker, Bex?” Ember asked. “Or do you just see the future because you’re an Albine?”

  His grin turned mischievous. “Both. My dad was Albine, and my mother was a flicker. Er’len says it makes me extra sensitive and very special.”

  Ember nodded. “That it does. You are one incredible kid.” She recalled the two Union missions he’d accompanied her on. “Fearless, too.”

  “Yep.” The cat had wandered back. He scooped it up and stroked it until it released a low buzzing sound, far different from the gentle purring of Earthen cats. Even felines were different here. “So what are you going to do now?”

  Ember wore a fake wristband that held no credits. Even if she could afford to buy her own ship, she’d never be able to convince a pilot to take her to Helden Farr. It was far off any existing trade routes. That was the whole point.

  But if there was one thing Ruben wanted more than the revolutionaries, it was Ember. He could stoke his public image and control what people said and arrest those who didn’t like him, but until their hope in Ember was dashed, he’d never have their hearts. That was where her true power lay now.

  Maybe it was time to tap into that power.

  Ember struggled to her feet, then bent down to look Bex in the eye. “Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me.”

  He eyed her skeptically. “That’s what grown-ups say when they’re lying.”

  She laughed and ruffled his white hair. “Go on back to Er’len and tell her my plans have changed. I’m staying here, with or without her permission.”

  His clear eyes brightene
d. “You’re going to fight.”

  She wiped the dirt off her trousers. “I’m going to save the revolution.”

  Chapter 18

  Stefan walked along the pedestrian walkway, head down, strides as wide as the crowd around him would allow. He’d only been to Kollander once before, at age five or so. The structures looming overhead were just as tall and narrow as he remembered, like thousands of long plates stacked on their sides, extending ever upward toward the murky gray sky. They had to have hundreds of floors, each with dozens of cubicle apartments and narrow enough for windows on both sides. A practical feature more than a luxury—windows brought in more natural light and allowed the city to impose power restrictions. On a planet jammed full of people, electricity was a luxury. Jammed was an understatement. Thirty billion people lived on Kollander, stacked atop one another and fighting for space every hour of the day.

  It would make finding Ember difficult. Tricky, or complicated, but not impossible. Never that.

  He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, exposing the least amount of skin possible. Half the people around him had Albine coloring, the other half mixed. The Empire’s dominance of this planet had brought in a greater variety of races since Stefan had been here last. It helped him blend in a bit more, but he was still one of the few with darker coloring.

  A distant bell rang, signaling the end of the travel shift. The men and women around Stefan picked up the pace, trying to look like they were hurrying without actually running. He did likewise but not for the same reason. His contact would already be waiting for him. He’d underestimated the distance to their meeting point.

  It was still hard to believe he was here at all. Reina had been right about everything—the cabinet tearing apart, the revolution splitting up. It had come down to Captain Terrance and General Pyne in the end. The captain had urged them to heed the flickers’ warning and change course, a move Stefan found surprising after the convoy mission. Apparently Ember’s episode had made a convert of the captain. General Pyne, however, had insisted the flickers were lying and maintained that Helden Farr was still their best option. Stefan and the others hadn’t heard from them since the break. It was possible they’d been captured by now.

  Not that the remaining revolutionaries were any safer. They hovered one day’s journey from here, paying exorbitant orbiting fees and waiting to hear from him. There was a second part to Reina’s warning, that of their involvement in a big battle. He just didn’t know how, when, where, or basically anything of importance. He was a terrible excuse for a leader these days.

  It would all fall into place when he found Ember. She had her army now. She just didn’t know it yet.

  When he finally reached the warehouse, the door was locked. He’d missed his appointment. Stefan cursed and began to circle the building, knocking on every door, but there was no sign of life inside. The sun would set soon, and then he’d be uncomfortable in these thin clothes. It got incredibly cold here at night.

  He was on his second round when the back door opened and a hand with stubby fingernails beckoned him in.

  Relieved, he stepped into the darkness. A tiny lamp with an electric bulb stood across the room, giving it a pale-yellow glow. Stefan had expected the spy to be young, sharp, and shifty, with dark clothing, like in the stories. But this woman looked more like a grandmother than a professional investigator—fifties, gray-streaked hair, hard eyes, faded clothing.

  It didn’t matter as long as she had the information he needed. He’d paid dearly for it.

  “Sit,” the woman said. She retrieved a basket from the table and tossed him something hard and round. A piece of old bread. “A little something to hold you over.”

  He hadn’t eaten today, but she wasn’t supposed to know that. “Thanks,” he said, trying not to appear eager as he bit into the aged food.

  “I spoke with my contact,” she began, ignoring her own chair. She hovered within two strides of the door. “He saw her this morning, just before dawn. And no, I won’t tell you his name, so don’t ask.”

  Stefan let his hand fall, the bread forgotten. “Are you sure? I mean, she was probably heavily disguised. Maybe he thought it was her.”

  “My contact has special . . . abilities. He knows these things.”

  A flicker. At least she didn’t know her client shared those particular abilities. At least that meant Ember was all right, or had been recently. “Okay, so he saw her where?”

  “She took some discarded food from a bin at the market. He followed her to an alley where she ate it, then continued on to the nearest Wall. She walked past it several times, slowing each time to examine it. Then she left, and he lost her in the crowd.”

  A Wall—one of the last remnants of the Albine culture. Once used for communication and public announcements, there were several Walls around the planet, but none worked anymore. The Empire had announced they would remove them a few decades back, but the Albines threw such a fuss the Empire finally backed down. Many bold teenagers had tried to make a name for themselves by tagging them, but they were always caught. The one Ember had visited was just five kilometers away with an Empire safety station situated right next door. Why would Ember risk being seen there?

  “That’s what you paid for,” the woman said. “If you’d like to know more, it’ll be extra.”

  “Exactly what I needed,” Stefan said, rising and sticking the remainder of the bread in his pocket. Maybe it would be softer if he soaked it in water or something. “Thank you for the information. Send me a message if she’s sighted again.” He turned to leave.

  “Wait.” Her voice rose an octave. “She’s leaving a trail.”

  Stefan paused halfway to the door. “Pardon?”

  “She’s launched a campaign about herself. She calls herself Lady Flare, right?”

  Ember hated that title, but few knew that. “Yes. Go on.”

  “This is extra, like I said. Very juicy—”

  “Continue,” he snapped. “I’ll decide what it’s worth.”

  A sly smile spread across her face. “Double or no deal.”

  He gritted his teeth. This woman was definitely not the grandmotherly type. “Fine. Double if it’s relevant news.”

  “Definitely relevant.” The woman’s eyes flashed with glee. “Messages have begun to show up around the city, all signed Lady Flare.”

  “What kind of messages?”

  “The first was found three days ago, a message spray-painted on the wall of an alley. It said, ‘Ruben Kane is a murderer.’ Within an hour, Empire workers had scrubbed it clean.” She handed him a photograph.

  He stared at it, unable to hide his surprise. The artist had used old-fashioned gold spray paint. That stuff had been illegal for a hundred years, maybe longer. “You said there’s more than one?”

  “Two. They found the second yesterday.” She handed him a second photograph. This one had gold letters as well, although the letters were taller and more carefully written. There are far more citizens than soldiers. They only have the power we give them.

  The woman raised an eyebrow at the image. “If you ask me, sounds like your Lady Flare person wants to get herself killed.”

  It was bloody brilliant. The messages would spread rapidly through the underground, buoying up the people despite the Empire’s increased security and city sweeps. Gossip always spread to corners law enforcement couldn’t reach, particularly in a place as tight-knit as this. If the city didn’t know she was here by now, they soon would.

  And so would Ruben.

  “I’ll never get her off the planet now,” Stefan muttered, startling when he realized he’d said it aloud.

  “You don’t have to. There are a gazillion hiding places here. And some say the resistance’s headquarters are nearby. No shortage of people willing to take her in. The soldiers’ll have to knock on every door, one by one. Do you realize how many doors there are here? It would take months to find her.” The spy looked triumphant. “Last night a group even rushed a s
oldier, saying they’d been summoned to action by Lady Flare herself. Put the soldier in the hospital. They were arrested, of course.”

  “I want an update tomorrow,” Stefan said quickly, his mind racing. “A word-for-word report on anything you find out. Empire movements, too. If one of them so much as coughs in her direction, I need to know it.”

  “Once I receive the double payment, I’ll schedule it,” the woman said casually, although her smile widened. She knew she had him hooked, but he was too excited to care.

  “You’ll get it within the hour.” He had a compartment flat in an older section of the city where he’d rigged a temporary transmission station to conduct this type of business. It wasn’t fancy, but it was secure enough for his purposes.

  When he’d stepped outside, he discovered a chill had already settled over the shadowed landscape. At least he knew Ember was okay. That meant she had to have found a place to stay and an effective disguise. He kicked himself for not asking what it looked like. He’d have to read every woman who looked remotely similar.

  He turned right on the pedestrian walkway, cursing the bitter cold that night had bestowed upon the city. He closed his jacket and shoved his hands into the pockets for warmth. First, the flat. He’d get a few hours of sleep before heading out again at dawn, when Ember was most likely to travel.

  He knew exactly where Lady Flare would strike next, and he intended to be there when she did.

  During the day, the Wall wasn’t that remarkable. The structure itself stood about fifteen men high and a dozen meters wide. But in the early morning hours when shadows still darkened the streets, it may as well have been Empyrean. It shimmered with a silvery glow, almost like it was lit from within. It hadn’t transmitted messages for decades, yet it still looked as magical as the first time Stefan had seen it. The child within him delighted in the sight.

  The soldier in front of the safety station narrowed her eyes at Stefan, and he realized he’d been staring too long. He pulled his gaze away and picked up the pace, striding past like a normal citizen on his way to work. He’d circle around and return when the guard wasn’t watching so closely.