Last of Her Name
Page 36
He turns to face me squarely. “Neither do you.”
I swallow hard and nod, even though I know it’ll be a long time before I really believe it.
“Anyway,” I say, “even that credit goes to Clio. All I did was think about what she told me, about peace being born from trust. That was the problem all along. The Leonovs didn’t trust anyone except themselves. They should have shared the truth about the Prismata with everyone. If Volkov had known what it’s like, that it’s not some evil, murdering monster, maybe he wouldn’t have tried to destroy it.”
“Now they’ll know, thanks to the new Firebirds.”
“I hope so.”
I hope I haven’t made a terrible miscalculation. I hope I can trust them, those nine in the Solariat with their newfound power and their eighteen Firebird candidates. Each system will have its own ambassadors to liaise with the Prismata. For some, like the Sapphinos and Amethynians, this means protecting themselves from stronger systems who might try to move against them. With their Firebirds connected to the Prism network, they’ll know ages in advance of any significant military actions. And for those systems more skeptical of the Prismata—like Rubyat and Alexandrine—having Firebirds will help assure them that the crystal is not a threat. I wonder if this really could have worked with Volkov, or if he was too far gone.
“You know …” I slip my spoon into Pol’s bowl, scooping out some of his ice. “I have a few months before I have to be back here, to train the new Firebirds.”
He raises a brow. “And?”
“And … I was thinking about your plan to become desert smugglers.”
“You know I’d make an excellent smuggler.”
“It’s true. We could smuggle all sorts of things. Treasure, food …”
“What do you say we ask the crew?”
He laughs and puts an arm around me, pulling me close.
Behind us, Riyan is talking with Damai and his other sisters, here from Diamin as part of their father’s entourage. His father won’t speak to him, but that didn’t stop his sisters from mobbing him and Natalya the minute they landed. They’ve hardly been apart since. Their chatter seems to fill the whole of the Rezidencia, and though Riyan seems a little dizzied from their noisy attention, he looks happy. I glance at him, our eyes connecting for a moment, and he gives me a little nod.
Nearby, on a bench beneath an Emeraultine willow, Mara and Natalya are whispering and laughing. Those two have become inseparable in the past few weeks. I guess between Mara’s betrayal and Natalya’s time under Volkov’s power, they’ve found something to bond over, and I’m starting to think it’s even more than that. As angry as I was at Mara, somehow none of that seems to matter anymore. She tried to apologize once, about a month ago, but the rest of us wouldn’t hear it.
“I think we’re all ready to get away for a while,” says Pol. “And as nice as a life of crime sounds, I’d settle for a few nights on the dunes with my favorite princess.”
“Ah!” I wave my spoon at him. “Not a princess anymore.”
He cocks his head. “If you’re not a princess, then that must mean I’m free from my vows.”
“Oh.” I set down my spoon and fold my arms on the counter, looking at him seriously. “Does this mean you’re leaving me, Appollo Androsthenes?”
“It means …” He leans toward me, until his lips are an inch from mine. “I’m asking if I might have the honor, Stacia Androva, of whisking you off on a romantic voyage to Rubyat.”
His lips are cold from the ice, but they warm quickly against mine. He tastes of strawberry and Amethynian wine. I slide forward on my seat so I can lock my hands behind his neck, and his fingers dig into my waist.
When we pull apart, we’re both blushing, sensing more than a few eyes on us.
“For a kiss like that,” I whisper, “I’d follow you over the edge of the universe.”
This has been a fantastic voyage of storytelling, and I’ve been blessed with an amazing crew along the way. First and foremost, my editor, Zack Clark, deserves as many thanks as there are stars in the Belt. His imagination and insight made this story possible, and I’ll be forever grateful for his openness to some of my nuttier “what-if’s …” Writing this book with him has been a delight and privilege. My deepest gratitude to production editor Melissa Schirmer, her squad of copy editors and proofreaders, and the entire Scholastic team. And thanks to designer Nina Goffi and artist Luke Choice for the stunning cover.
As ever, thank you to my agent, Lucy Carson, for ushering this book along and believing in me even when I doubt myself. I couldn’t ask for a truer or fiercer guide on this wild publishing journey.
Buckets of gratitude to some of my favorite crewmates, whose advice and encouragement enabled me to take risks with this story I could never have dared on my own, and whose friendships spurred me through the toughest early revisions: Marie Lu, Morgan Matson, Jennifer Wolfe, J. R. Johansson, Andrea Cremer, Suzanne Young, and Beth Revis. Jessica Brody deserves every star in the sky for her unflagging support and enthusiasm for this story, and for becoming Stacia’s earliest cheerleader.
Special thanks to my dad for being available 24/7 to answer random spaceflight and astrophysics questions, and to geek out with me over Teslas in space.
I could never have written this book without some truly dedicated babysitters, so many thanks to Mama, Noma, Papa, Mimmie, Pop Pop, Katharine, LeslieAnn, and Madelaine for giving me so many hours. Your support is beyond calculable.
Always and ever, thanks to Ben for being my master chef, tech support, believer, husband, and best friend.
Jessica Khoury is the author of the Corpus Trilogy and The Forbidden Wish. In addition to writing, she is an artistic mapmaker and spends far too much time scribbling tiny mountains and trees for fictional worlds. Her spare hours are spent video gaming, hiking, or cooking badly. She lives in Greenville, SC, with her husband, daughter, and sassy husky, Katara. Find her online at jessicakhoury.com.
Copyright © 2019 by Jessica Khoury
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First edition, March 2019
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e-ISBN 978-1-338-24339-0
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