by Rebecca Rode
“He’d see through that immediately. Ember and Ruben can read anyone, break through every shield. They are—” He stopped. This woman didn’t need to know about the virus Ember struggled with. “They have abilities that make them nearly invincible.”
Studying Stephen like a bird of prey, the woman approached him. “Perhaps. But assassination by weapon is only one means of death, flicker. There are others, and we’ve used them all.”
A chilling confession. He had to remind himself that he knew nothing about these people. “Your plan is to kill Ruben when he arrives.”
The woman didn’t answer.
“He’s on his way here,” Stefan continued thoughtfully. Then he realized something. “He wants to face Ember publicly. When he does, he’ll be distracted from reading those around him, completely focused on her. That’s when you intend to strike.” This woman had drawn Ember across half a galaxy and then rejected her—all to make her some kind of bait. It was just as he’d suspected. The resistance wanted to use them, not assist them.
Still Er’len said nothing, although her eyes flicked toward the door.
He slowly rose from the sofa, then looked down at her. “Let me guess. It won’t be a simple assassination. You plan to take out the entire crowd at once. A bomb—the only thing that will ensure his immediate death.” He choked, another terrible realization coming to mind. “But if you do that, you’ll kill Ember.”
“You intrigue me, flicker,” the robotic voice said. “Your heart is soft yet bold. In some ways you are her opposite, in others precisely the same.” She turned toward the door again. “You will remain here for the time being.”
Stefan leaped after her, blocking the door despite his bound hands. “You will not hurt Ember. I’ll kill you before you try.”
In half a blink, the Albine woman was holding a knife to his throat. She leaned forward, her robotic voice sinister in its matter-of-fact tone. “We’ve suffered things you can’t even imagine, flicker. While you grew up with soft clothing and luxurious meals, our children watched their parents die, and combed the streets for food. We’ve fought with nothing but our hands and spent long, cold nights under the stars. Yet death comes for all eventually. Be grateful your girlfriend can make a difference with hers.”
They’d broken past his mental defenses and read his memories while he was unconscious. It enraged him even further, but the bite of cold steel at his throat forced him to choose his words carefully.
Ember had watched her parents die and slept under the stars and scrounged for food yet turned her pain into something beautiful before returning it to the world. She knew simply killing Ruben wasn’t a permanent solution. She had to replace his vicious hand with something better. It was a lesson Er’len still needed to learn.
In the meantime, he had to remember his negotiating skills from Empire training. He looked the woman square in the eye. “A bomb would take civilian lives, too, which would reflect badly on your people here. Why risk Albine lives when you don’t have to?”
Er’len’s scowl softened a degree despite her rigid hold on the knife handle. “We aren’t afraid to die for our cause.”
They weren’t the only ones. If the woman cared to know the revolution rather than use them, she’d see that. But he wouldn’t say that with a knife to his throat.
Er’len’s blade lowered slightly as she eyed the door again. If she left, Stefan would be imprisoned until this was over. That wasn’t an option.
He spoke quickly. “Ruben loves an audience. He’ll hold Ember’s trial here in the center of things, maybe even with the public watching. The moment they sense an attack coming, they’ll try to shuffle Ruben away. But if an outside force threatens to shoot down any ship that tries to leave . . . ”
The revolutionaries. This was their part in the war. If Ruben tried to escape, they’d catch him. And if he brought in reinforcements, they would ensure his backup never arrived. A sureness settled in Stefan’s mind, a feeling that this was exactly where he needed to be.
Er’len’s lips tightened. “You have a good mind for tactical theory. Much better than your girlfriend.”
“Actually, I think this was Ember’s plan all along.” She wouldn’t be happy about Stefan’s part in it, but it was obvious Ember wanted Ruben descending on a planet full of angry rebels ready to back her up. “The only thing I can’t figure out is how she plans to send out the call to arms after her arrest. We need everyone across the planet to know instantaneously, and we can’t hijack an Empire broadcast station without tipping our hand.”
Er’len’s stoic face cracked into a real smile now. “I believe we can help with that.”
Chapter 20
Ember crept quietly through the old train station, watching for movement in the shadows. Most of the time it was just trash blown about by the wind, but occasionally she saw a form crouched in the darkness, watching her. It was usually a child.
She rubbed her arms, wishing she dared wear her flicker jacket. She’d be instantly recognizable here, of course. But on nights like this when the sun retreated and left a deep chill in its wake, Ember longed for that extra layer of warmth. Maybe she would wear it as she slept tonight and hope none of the street children saw her.
The city’s homeless converged on the old station each night. Several of the nearby warehouses were still in operation, but by the fifth travel shift, they were closed, leaving behind warm walls and freshly filled trash bins. Youngsters sprinted over the moment the last worker left, filling their bellies with discarded scraps and scrambling back to the abandoned warehouses as darkness fell.
Ember had found a decent sleeping place beneath a slab of risen concrete in a remote corner of the farthest abandoned warehouse. On the outside, walls that barely stood, shattered windows, and warped metal gave it a foreboding appearance. It wasn’t much to look at from the inside either. The interior walls were of old-fashioned brick and tagged with spray-painted initials and declarations of love by individuals long since dead. The roof had been collapsed for decades. It reminded Ember of home. This entire section of the city felt familiar somehow, like an extension of something she’d lost. Almost like Dai’s presence hovered nearby. Something had tickled her mind for the past three days, whispering that she was missing something important in all this.
High Commander Zandar hadn’t emerged from Er’len’s headquarters at all the first day. She still wasn’t sure what to think of the man. He seemed genuine and far more open than expected, especially for a former high commander. But the whole hard-versus-soft conversation was just odd.
She’d been turning his words over in her mind since then. She was even experimenting with new mental shield shapes, trying to find something Ruben couldn’t crack. Today it was a flexible, almost-liquid sheet she wrapped around her light. It was the closest thing to an Albine shield she could imagine. It would also take practice to hold in place, but she was determined to try it out at the next opportunity.
Are you really so bored? the voice scolded.
It wasn’t boredom as much as distraction. She had to keep her mind off Stefan somehow. They had a two-day head start on the vanguard. They were safe. He was safe. If she told herself that enough times, she could make it true with sheer strength of will. Tomorrow she would post her last message before turning herself over to Ruben. Then she would defeat him and announce her changes—or she would take him down with her.
It felt so strange to be without Stefan, to return to her concrete tent at night and not have him waiting for her. The storm nightmare attacked her every night now, and she’d wake to the sound of her own bloodcurdling screams. No soft hands to stroke her arms, no one murmuring that it was all right. And when the sky finally changed from black to a muddy blue, Ember had to rise and face it alone.
She’d made her decision. She loved Stefan too much to stay by his side. Someday, after the war was won, she would find him again and explain. Assuming she survived tomorrow.
She knew exactly how Dai had felt tha
t day, his heart breaking as he tried to explain to Neraline why they couldn’t be together. She knew the guilt he bore when she refused to leave in the weeks that followed, knowing in his heart that he was losing himself and therefore losing her all the same. The only thing she didn’t know was exactly what had driven him to flee from her.
Her father had visited Earth and married another woman. Stefan deserved happiness like that. He deserved a woman who wouldn’t thrash and scream and hurt him in her sleep. Someone who wouldn’t turn into a crazed killer and try to murder him when threatened.
If he’s so wonderful, he should have the very best, the shadow mocked. And that isn’t you.
The words sent a sudden stabbing pain through her stomach, and she doubled over, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Ember hadn’t had food packets in over a week now, yet the pains were worse than ever. Strangely, they seemed to coincide with the voice’s comments lately. There couldn’t possibly be a connection.
Could there?
Dai never suffered stomach pains, she reminded herself. His illness had gripped his lungs. Amai said it was cancer that had finally taken him from her, but Stefan believed it was the flare virus. What if Ember’s own virus had chosen something else to attack? The stomach or intestines, perhaps?
She would never know. Dai wasn’t around to ask, and she couldn’t access Empire medical records to check how far back his symptoms went. It was time to focus on tomorrow’s message. It was her most important yet—a final nail in Ruben’s coffin. Even if he killed her, the cause would live on to haunt him.
And she would look down from the stars, assisting and nudging where she could. Just like Dai did for her now. She sensed his presence here, even stronger than she had yesterday. Hopefully it was a confirmation that her plan was the right one.
The right one? the shadow echoed in a bitter tone. You’d rather run blindly to your own death than consult me about what should be done. This is a battle we must win together.
That part was true. There were two reasons she’d left Stefan behind—so she could lose control without hurting him, and to keep him from Ruben and his impending death. She wasn’t sure how intertwined the two reasons were. One thing was certain, though, and that was that Ember would need every ounce of her power. Even if that meant joining up with her tainted soul one last time.
The voice continued, strangely lucid now. As always, you ignore what should be obvious. This place, for example. It reminds you of your father. You haven’t stopped to ask yourself why.
Ember had come to a halt now, standing in the middle of a narrow, abandoned street in the warehouse district. The homeless people in the shadows probably thought her mad. She wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t. What did the voice mean? She was alone and missing Dai as she faced an uncertain tomorrow. That wasn’t so unusual.
You torment yourself over Neraline’s fate yet forget her words so easily.
More movement in the shadows. This time it was a man, shirtless and glaring at Ember as if she’d interrupted his slumber. She still stood like a fool in the road. Ember scrambled into a dark, secluded corner as her mind raced. Interesting that the shadow would bring Neraline’s warning to mind. She’d told Ember not to use her powers at all, that her soul would become tainted before taking hold of her altogether. Surely it didn’t want her to heed that warning.
Unless the shadow referred to something else, a different part of their conversation. Ember had seen Dai’s—Nick’s—attempt at a breakup, which Neraline refused. But Ember hadn’t seen what happened afterward.
He could no longer protect me from himself, Neraline had said. So he left.
It wasn’t that simple. Something had happened that day, something terrible.
The sense that she’d missed something loomed again, and she racked her brain to remember what Neraline had said. We took work at a warehouse. It was there we both realized the depth of his problem.
A warehouse.
An excitement as sharp as her gut pain stabbed at her now. Of course. They’d come here, to a giant city planet in the second sector. It was the perfect place to disappear. She’d never know precisely where, not without a lengthy search. Unless she could access the Empire’s network.
A risky feat during the day with so many workers around. But at night . . .
Her heart hammered in her chest, that feeling of closeness stronger than ever. The network held records of past employees, maybe even security footage.
The shadow had retreated now, humming to itself as if it hadn’t just fed Ember an important clue. That was suspicious in itself. Ember and the voice saw things very differently. If she allowed it to take control now, it would march right up to the Empire and turn her in. This could be an elaborate hoax to get Ember caught.
But she would turn herself in tomorrow anyway. If Ember wanted to find answers, it was now or never. And there was no denying that strange familiar feeling. That was something her soul couldn’t conjure, no matter how powerful it claimed to be.
Ember closed her eyes and reached out into the building behind her. She found two lights almost immediately. Security guards. One sat at a screen while the other made rounds in a lower room. She took control of the first easily.
Her view shifted.
Her host was a woman dressed in a gray suit, her manicured nails perfectly shaped. The security office was little more than a closet with screens covering the walls. Various views of blank walls and darkened assembly tables shifted every two seconds before her face. A parts company. Ember scanned the controls before her and stopped on a small screen with a keypad. It currently displayed an instructional culinary-arts-school recording. This woman put in the hours as a night guard while studying to be a chef. Bianca would have liked her.
The woman’s consciousness raged in the box Ember had placed her in.
“I’ll be quick,” she said, her host’s voice deep and low for such a small woman. Then she closed the screen and dove into her research.
Ten minutes later, she sank back in her chair. The Empire’s medical records and anything having to do with the flicker program were sealed. Not even the security guard had the access codes. Still clinging to hope, Ember searched the announcement database for her father’s name. News of the infamous flicker, Mario Nicholas, was easy to find. But it wasn’t Dai’s praises she needed just now.
She entered Neraline.
There. The name came up in a news-alert search. Ember held her breath and impatiently tapped the icon.
Fire at Markonne
Holding her breath, she hurriedly scanned the article. Then she read it again, more slowly this time. The words blurred in her vision. She blinked, but it still didn’t seem possible. Yet when she recalled Neraline’s words, it all fit together.
Kollander. Ner and Dai had escaped to this very planet.
She memorized the date and time, then pulled up the Empire’s security-feed history. It was protected, but a quick search of her host’s memory revealed the passcode. She stabbed at the MarConn icon, selected the date and time, and settled back to watch the screen, her hands trembling.
Ember had expected to see assembly lines, but there were only a few workers in the room. A young woman stood at the printer, holding a tablet in one hand and frowning. She had large, round eyes and long dark hair that curled at the ends. Neraline.
Dai’s disguise was better. His hair was a bright blonde, his chin covered in weeks’ worth of dark stubble. His clothing was tattered, whether purposely or through the rigors of this job Ember couldn’t tell. He was stooped over a long table, assembling something just a few meters from where Neraline stood fiddling with the printer screen now.
Ember sped up the feed a bit and watched a worker approach Neraline. She winced at the man’s words, which were apparently harsh criticism of her work. He yanked her tablet away and began motioning to the machine in front of her. A tiny spark shot out from the machine and disappeared. She said something back, and the man slapped her. She stumbled to the si
de and caught herself on the side of the printer.
Then Dai was there. He threw a punch that was deflected by the larger man. The supervisor, now enraged, began to pummel Dai until he fell onto the floor, arms outstretched, trying to slow the barrage overhead.
Three men ran from across the room. As they arrived, the supervisor halted his attack and took a step backward to allow the newcomers to secure Dai. They pulled him onto his feet until the two men faced each other. Dai’s face was bloody and swollen already, his chest heaving. But it was the look on his face that gave Ember pause.
There was murder in his eyes.
She couldn’t see a transition, but she knew exactly what was occurring within him. He took quick control of the three men holding his arms. They released him at the same time and turned slowly toward the supervisor. The supervisor took a step backward, but it was too late.
A chill gripped Ember. She sped through the next moments, unable to breathe.
The group attacking the supervisor. His nearly lifeless body on the floor. Neraline confronting Dai, who still wasn’t himself. The three men who’d been used running away, then suddenly falling to the ground. Ember couldn’t tell if they were alive or not. One hit the printer panel as he fell, sending new sparks flying from the machine.
The scene only became more horrific from there. Flames erupted from the printer, sending showers of sparks across the floor and the four bodies sprawled across the room. Meanwhile, Dai stood there with his eyes closed. Neraline grabbed Dai’s shoulders and began to shake him. Then she flinched, went stiff, and fell to the floor. In the background, workers sprinted for the door and collapsed to the ground midstride. He was taking down the workers. There had to be several dozen of them. One caught fire as the flames spread, his clothing and then flesh burning while he lay there, completely still. Young Nick remained rooted in place, his eyes squeezed shut. He was smiling now.
