by Rebecca Rode
The room was a blur of sound and color. Everyone was yelling, screaming, and running, but it was all a faint buzz behind her shield.
Let me go, let me go, let me go.
She didn’t have the energy to push the voice away this time, so she let it fade like the other sounds and channeled her focus on one thing—Ruben’s shield. She was barely aware of the flickers encircling her now. One crept a bit too close, and she allowed the faintest thread of her energy to send him a blow. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The others tightened their shields. That wouldn’t work again.
“Captain,” a guard called to his superior in the chaos behind Ruben. “We’ve been pinned down. Resistance ships in orbit have blocked our escape route. We won’t be able to get the emperor out without an escort.”
The words floated around in Ember’s mind, mixing together. The resistance didn’t have ships, did they? She couldn’t remember what Er’len had said about her support on other planets. Focus. She couldn’t afford any diversions now.
“Call for backup!” the captain snapped in response, then changed his mind. “No, let me do it.”
“Your shield is an odd one, but it will break eventually,” Ruben said, pulling her thoughts back. “I intended to give you a trial, but it seems we’ll be skipping right to the good part. Fitting that everyone will get to see their emperor defeat the most dangerous rebel in the realm.”
On the other side of the gym, somewhere beyond the lights, the resistance fought to free her. Blurry figures darted in and out of the crowd—one in particular looking familiar.
But it couldn’t be. Stefan was back with the revolutionaries, getting them away safely. He—
The man appeared again, fired a stunner at a guard, then leaped out of the way as the man fell. He stepped over a body, ducked, and fired again. Then he was gone.
Surely it was her imagination. She missed him and her brain was under incredible strain and was conjuring up comforting images. The only way to see Stefan again was to come out of this victorious. And to do that, she had to focus.
Ruben’s smile widened, and Ember knew she’d given Ruben precious ground. She gritted her teeth and pushed back.
Let me go, let me go, let me go.
Her shadow wanted desperately to defeat Ruben. The moment she released it, Ruben would die. But Ember didn’t know what would happen after that, which meant setting her power free like that was a last resort. There were too many people in the room. It was simply too dangerous. Perspiration from the camera lighting dripped down her face.
A pair of resistance soldiers saw Ember and darted over. Before Ember could warn them off, Ruben gave them a sideways look. It was then the pair seemed to realize who they were approaching.
It happened as if in slow motion. The men slowed, looking uncertain, but it was too late. They jerked as one and slowly toppled to the floor, one atop the other. Dead. Alive one second, then still on the floor the next. Just like those warehouse workers.
A cry from behind Ruben meant Bianca had seen the whole thing.
Ember ground her teeth, her cheek still on fire from the blow. She had to keep Ruben’s attention on her. If she allowed him to turn on the civilians, she’d never forgive herself. She hoped the cameraperson was still here, transmitting this on the Albine Walls.
“Ember!”
Stefan. She looked to see his anxious face momentarily emerge from the crowd, then it was swallowed up again.
Ember’s heart thundered in her chest. Stefan wasn’t supposed to be here. He couldn’t be here. She’d sent him away. He was supposed to be safe, weeks away.
As Ruben turned to see the source of the shout, the crowd parted.
And suddenly Stefan was there.
Chapter 24
Excellent,” Captain Terrance said after the last revolution ship had checked in. A thrill of excitement rose inside him. This was the first large-scale mission he’d overseen in his life, and it happened to be the mission. Today the revolution would face down an emperor. Ruben Kane wouldn’t escape today.
Over thirty ships floated in orbit above Kollander’s upper atmosphere, a revolution blockade. It was difficult to gauge through the window just how large the city planet was, its generic gray crisscrossed with the occasional brown border where rivers cut through. The giant city’s origins went back several millennia. Captain Terrance had always wanted to visit. If they succeeded today, he could travel anywhere he wanted. The next hour would mark either a new beginning or the end for him. He hoped it was the former.
“What are your orders, sir?” the red-haired captain asked. Terrance was now their general in the absence of Pyne. He liked the title. General Terrance. If only his parents could hear it. They would have liked to see him standing here in his deep-green uniform, surrounded by technicians busy at work. Not only was this his most important mission, it was also the most powerful ship he’d ever commanded. It was full of soldiers at battle stations, ready to issue death to the first unfortunate shuttle that came their direction.
He was about to tell her to stand by when a technician spoke from the comms panel. The young but capable boy turned in his seat. “Captain—er, General, we’ve finished running through the previous thirty minutes’ transmissions. There is no camera feed yet, but we did find a call for backup.”
They knew the revolutionaries were here, then. Good thing they’d placed the noncombat families and vulnerable adults together, safely waiting a few hours from here. “Can you trace where it went?”
“A station just on the other side of the black moon. There was a response signal just ten minutes ago. I’d guess they’ve deployed by now.”
“Well done. Keep scanning and notify me if you see anything else.” He turned back to the captain. “I want our highest sensitivity scanners active and reading reports every minute. We can’t be taken by surprise.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave a crisp salute and strode quickly to the other side of the room, barking orders before she’d even reached the techs.
It was only a few minutes before the captain came running back. “Sir, we’ve spotted an entire fleet headed this direction. We estimate about fifty fighters.”
Terrance felt an odd combination of eagerness and dread churn in his stomach. Fifty ships, all heavily armed. “Notify the other ships and tell them to prepare for offensive measures, but to wait for my mark. Under no circumstances will they fire until I say so.”
It was a useless warning. The moment the Empire ships were within range, there was a flurry of firepower hurled toward the revolutionaries. There would be no bartering, no playful test shots. Their purpose was clear—complete and quick annihilation.
The entire room looked to Terrance now—not only his own ship but twenty-nine others filled with soldiers awaiting the order that would save their lives.
He drew himself together and grabbed the chair in front of him, preparing for the hit. Then he said the word he’d always dreamed of saying.
“Fire.”
Chapter 25
Ember couldn’t believe Stefan was really here.
Relief flooded Stefan’s face as he stood there, his gaze locked on Ember, breathing hard. He held a stunner tightly in his right hand.
Stefan and Ruben, in the same room. This couldn’t be happening. She wasn’t ready for this to happen. She couldn’t let this happen.
Ruben had noticed the distraction and intensified his attack. The pressure on her mind increased until she thought her shield would crack after all. She had to warn Stefan away, but she couldn’t form the words. Her lips could only manage a weak “Go.” Please, Stefan. Put your gallantry aside and leave this place.
Stefan’s gaze locked on Ruben now. He pressed his lips together in determination and lifted the stunner. He was going to try to kill Ruben.
As the two men momentarily stared at each other, the pressure on Ember’s mind eased.
Please, no—
Ember yanked out of Ruben’s mind and leaped
to protect Stefan, but Ruben had beaten her there. Stefan’s shield cracked like an eggshell beneath the emperor’s ruthless touch. She couldn’t get in now. And she couldn’t form a shield for someone else—only for herself. She could only watch from the outside as Ruben made his move.
Ember felt the man’s inner arm raise for the blow.
She threw herself at Ruben’s shield with renewed strength, but it was as impenetrable as ever. She began to pound with all her might, thrashing against the bindings holding her body to the chair. A cry burst from her lips. “Stefan, no!”
There was no battle now, no group of civilians. No cameras. Just the man she loved and the man she loathed, facing one another down.
Stefan’s finger tightened on the trigger. Ember thrashed in her bonds, throwing herself mentally against Ruben’s shield once again.
Something changed. Stefan’s finger went slack. Then the light left his eyes, leaving behind a dull expression. The stunner fell to the floor with a sharp crack.
No, no, no, no, no!
She knew the moment it happened. Stefan went rigid. Then his eyes rolled back and he went limp, tilting to one side and crashing to the floor.
He lay on his side, completely still.
Her mind screamed.
Ruben turned back to her with a twisted smile.
He’d pulled out of Stefan’s mind, leaving it open. Ember plunged in immediately. She grasped around, frantic, desperate. Please.
Stefan’s inner light was gone. He was gone.
Ruben’s pressure on her shield increased again, and she was vaguely aware of the flickers’ touch as well. Somewhere deep inside, the shadow screamed. Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go!
Stefan.
Ember hadn’t been his killer after all. She’d managed to get this far without losing herself to the taint again. She’d done everything she could to change the future, and yet here Stefan was. The stars are never wrong.
Ember had lost. Because despite what she’d told herself all along, she’d done this for Stefan. For them. Everyone she’d resolved to protect, she’d lost. First Dai, then her entire Roma village. The flicker team. Her revolutionaries. Stefan.
Er’len was right—Ember wasn’t chosen by the stars. She wasn’t even favored. She was cursed, like those who dared to love her.
Like the rising sun banishing the lingering darkness of night, a single memory spread through her consciousness. It’s not about your ability. It’s about who you are.
The stars hadn’t chosen her because of her power. They’d given her power because she was chosen. Stefan had understood that distinction perfectly.
If I were the stars, he’d said, I would choose someone as removed from the Empire as possible. Someone who saw the terrors of the realm with fresh eyes yet had the strength of character to change it.
A note, long and solemn, emerged from Ember’s lips. Then a word, then another. And then the lyrics exploded from her in a terrible, beautiful rush, every cell in her body humming a vicious harmony.
Tree climber, tree climber, high in the sky
You are rooted in the tree you climb
Deep in the Earth you love.
Neraline, Bianca’s family, Ember’s village. Her parents. She could feel their eyes on her, could hear their silent pleas for her victory. Her skin tingled with the warmth of it.
The life flowing beneath your hands
Pulses also through tree veins, insects, plants.
Through all things living and touched by life.
She could feel their presence now. How had she not felt them before? They were everywhere—in the stars, the ground, the trees outside. As the sensation penetrated her entire being, she realized Ruben’s touch on her shield was gone. He still stood above her, but his expression was one of confusion. The flickers behind him stumbled backward. A low murmur filled the room, replacing the shouts and the vibrations of stunners. Even the chanting outside went silent.
Deny not the death that has spread.
For just as the sky extends, so does the ground,
Deep-rooted and strong.
As Ember reached for the sky and a future of freedom, she was also grounded by those who had gone before. And she would serve as a foundation for those who came later.
The same flame you carry within is the life that binds us all.
The light that binds us all.
“Stop singing,” Ruben growled. He held his head like the sound pained him. Even Bianca looked stricken. She’d pulled herself to a standing position behind Ruben, watching Ember as if she’d never seen her before.
In fact, most of the room stood gaping as Ember finished her song.
The same flame you carry within is the life that binds us all.
The light that binds us all.
The tune trailed off into silence. So many flickering lights in this room, souls dedicated to the happiness of their families and themselves. Her own soul was a blaze of heat right now. The others must have felt it, because the entire room stood frozen in place. They looked around in wonder. Even Ruben seemed to sense something was different. She felt his touch on her light, but he no longer appeared to be trying to break through. If anything, he was assuring himself she was still human.
She could sense every soul in the room and thousands more outside. The billions on the planet. The hundreds of trillions elsewhere. So many beings, all so alive. This was what it meant to be a god—to see the past, present, and future of it all. Everything was connected.
“Somebody stun her already,” Ruben called out, but his voice broke on the last word. He knew something dramatic had just happened, even if he couldn’t feel exactly what.
It was clear from their expressions that the guards wouldn’t be approaching Ember—not now, not ever. They seemed ready to run the moment she moved their direction. You have a greater sensitivity than most, Er’len had said. Yet you choose to employ only the darkest parts of your gift. She understood now. Being a flare was so much more than tearing through defenses and forcing others to do her bidding. It was this—a soft, kind hand assuring their souls she had this under control. By the looks on their faces, every person in the room felt it.
Panic filled Ruben’s face as he watched everyone in the room stare at Ember. Did he think she’d taken control of them and would soon turn on him? The truth was much more incredible. He scanned the room and caught sight of the exit his guard had tried to pull him through earlier, and he began to sprint toward it.
But a line of resistance soldiers moved to block it. Two of the soldiers were too wide to be human, their brown flesh looking more like scales than skin. Aliens. Where had they come from? Four more joined them, followed by another three.
Ruben stopped short and looked around frantically. “Give me that,” he muttered, swiping a stunner from the nearest guard. He switched the weapon to the red setting and leveled it at Ember.
A figure emerged from the shadows behind him. “I don’t think so,” Bianca said in broken Common as she placed a stunner to his head. His eyes widened as his situation finally hit him. He obviously hadn’t considered Bianca a threat. As his servant, she wasn’t supposed to touch a weapon. “Put it down now,” she said, “or I shoot.”
Ruben gave Ember a glare so dark she wondered if he would shoot her anyway. But then he bent his knees, slowly set the weapon on the floor, and kicked it away.
“Release me,” Ember said. Even her voice was different. It carried a strength she only now allowed herself to feel.
It was a wide-eyed flicker commander who scrambled to obey. Ruben didn’t protest, instead standing there with his shoulders rigid, hands in the air. One of his own guards flanked his other side, a stunner pointed at his former leader’s back. An Albine man with braided white hair stood behind him with a knife. He nodded to Ember.
In moments, Ember’s wrists were free. She brought them around to rub the feeling back into them as the flicker hurried to untie the band holding her in place.
“There will be no more fighting,” Ember announced as she rose, steadying herself on the chair. Her heart pounded like a war drum as she made her way to Stefan’s fallen form, the room full of people stumbling backward to make way for her. She caught a glimpse of Er’len near the front. Her clear eyes had turned a deep gold and held an unusual intensity.
“Ember Gheorghe,” Er’len’s robotic voice said. “What you do here today will be seen by the entire realm. It is my honor to witness.”
Ember nodded respectfully. Understanding passed between them, and Ember knew Er’len approved of her actions today. It was something, at least.
Stefan’s eyes were closed, his dark eyelashes shut tight as if he merely slept, his soft lips parted slightly. She’d admired this peaceful expression while he slept so many times during the past months. Even now she longed to stroke his cheek and see his lips turn upward into a smile, to hear him groan and force his sleepy eyes awake. He would grin and pull her down for a long kiss, then wrap his arm around her as if he’d never let her go.
She knelt and raised her hand to brush her fingers along his hairline, curling them around to the back of his head. Then she lifted his head and cradled it in her arms. He was so pale, so still.
The same flame you carry within is the life that binds us all.
She moved softly to fill the place where Stefan’s consciousness had once been. It felt cold, like an empty room.
Ember searched for any wisps of what might remain, but there was nothing. She tried to shove part of her own life into him, but it was as if she were blocked. She couldn’t take the place of a person’s inner light if none remained. He would never be hers again.
It was no use. Stefan was truly gone.
The flame you carry is the life.
Ember closed her eyes and began to hum. This time she didn’t reach out with her inner light. She didn’t reach at all, didn’t manipulate or force the light to do anything. She merely allowed herself to feel.
