by Rebecca Rode
And then it was there. The life, the consciousness of the countless people, animals, and planets who had once lived. It was a heat very much like a flame, its warmth filling her entire being. Stefan had added his spark of brightness to that inconceivable light. She thought her heart would burst at the beauty of it all.
That was it. The stars did indeed work in opposites, balancing the universe. But she’d been wrong. Ember was not Ruben’s opposite. It was never about good against bad. It was Ember against herself—despair versus hope, light versus dark, the past versus the future. Life versus death. If she carried one, she also carried the other. That was what Er’len had been trying to tell her.
Her inner shadow was silent now. It sat sullenly, as if Ember had discovered what it wished she had not.
Commander Kane had been obsessed with flare abilities. He’d made them his life’s work. After decades of study, he’d described Ember’s power as the ability to manipulate a person’s light. She’d discovered how to read it, how to injure it, and finally how to replace it. But what if there was something more? Something purer?
Ember had the power to destroy life. Could it mean she also had the power to restore it?
The power of a god. The shadow had been saying it all along.
Ember closed her eyes and searched beyond the trillions of living beings. After a moment she found it—that tiny spark, the part of life that had once been Stefan, and cradled it in her soul. It brightened at her touch, and her soul responded in kind. Not the tainted part that longed for power but the part that was wholly and completely Ember. The two sparks merged and became one flame.
Her question was a wordless one born of emotion and longing and something stronger that could only be encapsulated by one word—love. The light flickered, fully understanding what she asked. And then she received her answer. Again, without words. Simply warmth and brightness.
She placed the tiny flame into the place where Stefan had once been. It disappeared.
Then ignited.
The crowd stood reverently by as Ember opened her eyes and sat back, watching Stefan’s face. They didn’t know exactly what was happening, but they did know history was being made. Perhaps they could still feel the warmth permeating their souls.
Either way, she heard a collective gasp when Stefan opened his eyes.
Chapter 26
The bridge was chaos. Several of Terrance’s soldiers had fallen as their ship broke apart a piece at a time. The screen above was still intact, allowing them to clearly see the fighters shooting past them. His ship was powerful, but it was no match when it came to speed. Four fighters had taken to circling it like vultures, stripping it of most of its weapon capability.
Only twenty minutes in and the battle was nearly over. They’d lost a quarter of the revolutionary ships, and half of the remaining vessels were disabled, their soldiers waiting to be consumed by fire or finished off in huge explosions. Thousands of brave, willing souls who had trusted in his command—all gone in minutes.
The flickers had insisted they would win this battle. The flicker girl, Reina, had been especially insistent. Was it a lie? Had they made a fool of him in the end?
“General!” the captain screamed. Her red bun was disheveled and her face wet with perspiration from running back and forth between him and her team. “The v-vanguard. A portion of the perimeter has broken off. Th-they’re approaching!”
“What?” He squinted at the window. “I see nothing.”
“Zoom in,” the captain ordered the pilot. Still nothing but blackness.
Wait. “Again,” Terrance said.
A tiny cluster appeared in front of them. If he didn’t know better, Terrance would insist it was an asteroid field. But he could see the even spacing between the dots and the perfectly round shape. They moved as one, but they were much larger than it appeared from here.
“How is that possible?” Terrance demanded. The flickers said the vanguard would catch them if they continued on to Helden Farr. It was the defector revolutionaries who were supposed to be captured, not their group. They were the loyal ones. “Someone explain this. Or better yet, get Reina on the line.”
The bridge was silent now. Everyone who remained knew this was the end. Even if they somehow survived the Empire fleet’s destruction, the vanguard would easily finish them off. They had failed so disastrously most of the realm would never know what happened here today.
“Never mind on that line,” Terrance finally said. He didn’t need an explanation or excuses. He’d made the best decision he could under the circumstances. He wanted to serve the revolution, and by the stars, he intended to do just that. “Initiate radio contact with Stefan. Tell him the vanguard is here and we can’t hold out much longer.”
“Sir?” the young tech said from the panel. He turned to face Terrance, a puzzled look on his face. “The vanguard has slowed to a halt.”
“They aren’t in range yet,” the captain muttered. An errant lock of hair fell over her face, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Then again, it’s the vanguard, so who really knows their weapon capabilities?”
Terrance turned back to the screen. “Enhance. I want to see exactly what we’re dealing with.”
There it was. The entire screen was covered in vessels. Their formation was a long, tight cylinder, effectively disguising their numbers. But Terrance didn’t need numbers. The front layer could have easily demolished the entire revolution by itself.
“The other ships are calling in,” another comms tech shouted. “What do I tell them? They say we should retreat.”
“Cabinet member Stefan isn’t responding, sir.”
“The fighters have just taken out deck eight starboard.”
“Sir!”
Terrance curled his hands into fists. Was it too much to deal with one thing at a time? “What?”
It was the pilot this time. He placed his trembling hands on the instrument panel, leaning over it like a runner catching his breath.
Alarmed, Terrance strode over. If the pilot was having a heart attack, he’d call in a substitute. But before he could demand an explanation, he saw the screen. It was a transmission they’d received from the surface.
Terrance sensed the captain and a few techs closing in behind him. All stared intently at the screen, which showed a pale Ruben Kane standing under guard, scowling. A few meters away, Lady Flare knelt over a still form on the floor. Terrance recognized the body by its boots. Cabinet member Stefan wouldn’t be responding to his calls.
Ruben Kane was captured but at great cost. By the looks of that gymnasium, they’d had a violent battle before securing the emperor. But if the Empire leader was in danger, why had the vanguard stopped? They could easily sweep in and take the planet back.
“Sir,” the captain said. She’d turned away from the screen and now stood overlooking the comms panel. “Look what just came in.”
Terrance went over, following her gaze. A single word glowed across the screen. MOVE.
“Move?” he read. “Who is this even from?”
“The vanguard,” the captain breathed softly.
Now the entire bridge was silent despite the battle going on outside. Alarms blared somewhere below. They barely registered in Terrance’s mind. Move. Why would the vanguard send them such a message?
“I can confirm that,” the young man said. “The message did come from the vanguard. It’s encrypted, so we’re the only ones receiving it. They must know we’re the commanding ship. I’m not sure how.” He shrugged, but his face was pale.
Terrance felt numb. Did they honestly think he would obey their orders before he’d even surrendered? And what was this message asking him to do? Move could mean anything—run away, move forward, up or down, right or left. They could be playing with him.
Unless . . .
Vanguard soldiers spent their lives in the Empire’s service. Many of them were conquered races forced to join the military where they would conquer others until they died, never seeing t
heir homes or families again. If they’d received word that a battle was taking place on Kollander that could mean their freedom . . .
Move. A single word, one that could be interpreted a dozen ways if intercepted by the other Empire ships. He had to be right about this.
“Back up,” Terrance ordered. “Move all the ships backward. Right now. We want the Empire fighters gathering in front of us.”
“Sir?” the captain asked, turning away from the screen. “You want us to retreat and leave Lady Flare unprotected?”
“It’s not a retreat. Tell the others to situate themselves behind us.” He didn’t have time to argue. “Do it now.”
The captain scrambled back while the tech leaped into his seat. A flurry of orders was thrown about the bridge, and the hum of activity commenced. It felt like a millennium before the ship slowly began to limp backward. The others—those that were mobile at least—were already moving.
“Farther,” Terrance ordered. “There. That should do it.”
The fighters had pulled back, waiting for orders to attack the “retreating” ships. They weren’t paying attention to the mass of ships behind them just beginning to move again.
“Place every scanner we have on that area right there,” Terrance ordered. “If they fire a single shot, I need to know where it’s—”
A thousand tiny darts of light shot out from the cloud of ships. They blinked across the empty space, each one’s route straight and sure. As they approached, the lines began to converge, and panic swept the room. Several techs scrambled from their seats and took cover, cowering on the floor and covering their heads.
As the converging lines of fire grew thicker and brighter, another alarm blared, initiated by the pilot as a warning for the passengers to prepare for impact. The distance closed as the fire swept across the distance—
And struck an Empire carrier.
Terrance could imagine the shock and horror radiating through the ranks of Empire soldiers right now. Their own had turned on them. What had been an easy victory just moments before was now the worst kind of betrayal.
Two fighters went up in smaller explosions, followed by a second carrier. It took less than a minute for the Empire ships to scatter. They were running away.
“I can’t believe this,” the captain breathed.
The bridge watched as the convoy broke apart and chased the Empire ships. Terrance could see now just how many vessels had defected—out of thousands of ships, nearly eight hundred had come to the revolutionaries’ aid. Or perhaps they had come to their own aid and the revolution just happened to be there as well. He’d never been the critical type.
“General,” the pilot called. There was awe in his voice. “You’ve got to come see this.”
Terrance looked over the pilot’s shoulder to the surface transmission. He watched for a long moment, the others joining him emitting quiet gasps. He didn’t dare blink for fear the scene would crumble and become nothing more than a dream. He couldn’t contain the emotions sweeping through him now—wonder, joy, surprise. Lady Flare really did hold the power of the stars. The emperor had been subdued and a large percentage of the vanguard was on their side. The Empire as they knew it had fallen.
“Folks,” Terrance finally announced, turning to face those who remained in their seats. Emotion choked his words, and he struggled to speak. “Hail the others. The war is officially over.”
Chapter 27
Stefan felt something soft grip his hand.
It took all he had to pry his eyes open. As light replaced the darkness, he saw a lovely face above him. Ember’s black hair tumbled down in soft waves, and she looked as if lit up from the inside, the darkness and anger from before having completely fled. A soft smile graced her lips. She’d never been more beautiful.
Men and women stood around watching, some familiar, most not. The occasional Empire uniform dotted the background. He recognized a resistance soldier or two. On the fringes of the crowd stood Er’len.
Something important had happened. He tried to ask what was going on, but it came out as a croak.
“Take a moment to rest,” Ember said softly.
Stefan tried again. “Get down here.”
Ember just grinned, then bent over and met his lips with hers.
He cradled her head in his hands, his fingers combing gently through her hair. And then it was just the two of them. He was here, she was safe, and all was well.
“I’m going to ask you that question again,” he murmured against her lips.
She pulled away with a chuckle. “Yes, I’ll marry you. And if they’ll let me, I’ll marry you again and again. I’d say the stars decreed it, but I think that’s a given at this point.”
“Definitely.” He looked around again, remembering where they were. Dozens of people still watched them, looking confused and awed and utterly dumbfounded. The revolutionaries. They were still out there. Were they all right? And why the sudden stop to the fighting? “Maybe someone should tell me what just happened.”
“There’s one thing I need to take care of first.” Ember’s expression momentarily hardened as she slid her hand into his pocket and retrieved the box containing the antidote.
His heart hammered, not daring to hope. He eased up on one elbow and struggled to a sitting position as she opened the lid. Ruben stood riveted in place, no less than six weapons pointed at him. He looked stricken, almost horrified. His face was flushed. Stefan had no idea what had just happened, but Ember was certainly the victor here.
Ember lifted out the blue vial and stood, facing Ruben. She gave the liquid a little shake. “Half is yours,” she said softly. “And half is mine.”
“I’m not touching that,” Ruben spat.
Ember lifted a dark, lovely eyebrow. “Must we do this the hard way?”
He seemed to draw together his courage. “I am still the emperor. You will—”
The next words caught in his throat. His eyes went wild for a second, then muted into a blank stare. She’d taken possession of him easily this time. Stefan had definitely missed something while unconscious.
The room watched in silence as the self-proclaimed emperor accepted the vial and tipped it to his lips. He downed exactly half and handed it back to Ember.
Stefan pushed himself to his feet, suddenly aware of a few new bruises along his side. He’d landed hard. Then he made his way to Ember. “You don’t have to do this.”
She turned to look at him. “Actually, I do.”
His throat was tight. He’d wanted her to do this for so long, to allow the medicine to reverse whatever had tainted her deep inside and eventually threatened her life. But now that he sensed what she was leaving behind, he ached for her. “At least wait until we know how it affects him. Maybe it won’t even work.”
“It’s working.” She nodded to Ruben. “I can see it. It’s nearly gone now.”
She had evidently pulled out of Ruben, because the man blinked and looked around at the crowd like a criminal facing execution. He let out a cry and bolted for the doors.
“Stop him,” Ember said. The soldiers who had previously been afraid of Ember leaped after Ruben and wrestled him to the ground. As they brought him back, Ember gave Stefan a grim smile. “He needs to apologize to the people he hurt.”
Stefan was staring at the vial in her hand now, clasped daintily between her two fingers. “Maybe we should save it. You know, make sure we can create more. Just in case.”
“That’s not necessary. There aren’t any others.”
He didn’t ask how she knew. This was her choice, not his. He took a step back with the others and watched the woman he loved. Something remarkable had happened to her. She carried herself with such confidence—not arrogance but a genuine belief in herself and what she was about to do. She held his gaze and gave him a brilliant smile, her happiness radiating from her face.
Out of the corner of his eye, Stefan saw two citizens struggling to turn a camera from behind, its attendants having fled du
ring the fighting. The light above it was off. The camera hadn’t caught any of this.
“No need,” Er’len said to the two. “They are watching.” Her eyes were a strange golden color and she carried no camera. Interesting. The Empire hadn’t attempted to understand the Albines’ power until it was too late. A fatal mistake.
Ember smiled at Er’len, then held up the vial so everyone could see.
And swallowed it down.
Chapter 28
The evening was warm, the ocean wind sweeping gusts of salty wind over the small group standing in the sand in front of the platform. The scent took Ember’s breath away. Or maybe it wasn’t the scent at all.
Ember had spent her entire childhood looking forward to this day. Her plotchka had been Dai’s last wish, along with a measure of protection for her. Now it would tie the last shreds of an old life and the beginnings of a new one together.
Stefan stood across from her, a wide smile on his face. He looked endearingly ridiculous in his deep-navy suit, tie, and Romani cap with its coins woven in for prosperity.
He leaned forward to whisper to Ember. “I would have rocked the entire Roma outfit, you know.”
Optimistic and kind as always, Stefan had offered to make this a Romani wedding in every way, including traditional attire. But Ember knew that would have felt wrong for him. Dai had stood in this position once, marrying a Roma woman, and the village had insisted the outsider wear a suit to indicate his heritage. Stefan could be proud of his roots.
Of course, Ember wore the headdress, traditional blouse, and long skirt with dozens of gold coins woven into its folds. Tradition forever—the Roma creed. Ember was determined to do her part.
She knew the sight would make her parents proud. The platform, the fire at the bottom of the steps, the music. Ember had even trained the musicians herself. The violin didn’t sound quite right, and the accordion was a disaster, but somehow this thrown-together version of tradition was perfect.
