“I’m really glad he didn’t hear you say that,” Fisher said. “He’s already insufferable.”
Pendt laughed. Fisher took a sip of tea. It wasn’t so bad.
“I want to break the lock on the station,” Pendt said. Fisher was glad he was already sitting down. “I know we can’t do it here. There are too many unknowns. But if I can find a way to get to Enragon Station, then I can experiment a bit more.”
“That would take years,” Fisher said. “I feel like we just got to settle down a bit.”
“It wouldn’t take years if I had the Enragon heir with me,” Pendt said. “There’s been rumours of their heirs forever, and Katla is as good a place to start looking for them as any. People go in and out of there more frequently than they do here, and it’ll be easier to escape people’s notice if I’m some random researcher on a highly populated station.”
“I feel like everyone goes to Katla,” Fisher said.
In a way, he was right. They’d deported Dr. Morunt as soon as the dust settled. Pendt had done it, so as not to sully the memory of Fisher’s first time using the Well. Katla was the first stop for Ned too. Pendt wouldn’t see either of them in all likelihood. Katla Station was much bigger than Brannick.
“Well, I’m not going right away,” she said. “I have some things I want to do here first.”
“Oh, really?” Fisher said. He slid his hands around her waist.
“Not that,” Pendt said, and then amended her answer: “Not only that.”
Fisher laughed and kissed her. Pendt wrinkled her nose but didn’t stop him.
“We’ve got time,” she said. “We’ll finish changing our world, make sure everything is in working order. Then we’ll see what we can do for everyone else.”
Pendt Brannick was eighteen years old, and she could touch the very stars.
EPILOGUE
ON KATLA STATION, THERE was a laboratory crammed full of strange equipment and reams of technical readouts that few people could fully understand. There were odd sounds and lights that stayed on deep into the nightshift, whether or not anyone was present. Several dead plants did their best to bring some sense of green life to the room. In the middle of the organized chaos, there sat a girl. Her name was Morgan Enni. And she had things to do.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This one was rough.
Thank you to Josh Adams, who never gave up on this book, and to Andrew Karre, who never gave up on ME, even when everything was falling apart. Thank you also to the team at Penguin, especially Melissa Faulner, who made miracles happen on short notice over and over again. Anne, you’re the best. Anna Booth, thank you for beautiful book design and for double-checking my genetics. Jeff Langevin and Maria Fazio, I don’t know how you saw the inside of my brain before I was finished designing it, but you did, and I love the colours.
Thank you to Emma, who put up with an incredible amount of waffling on this book, and to Emmy, Rachel, Katherine, Kat, Tessa, and Vee, who read early (“early”) versions and reminded me to land all the shots that I had set up. Team #brokenhome and #stealtheunicorn 5eva.
Thank you to the city of Stratford, Ontario, for keeping it together during Covid so that I could sort of keep it together during Covid and manage to write a book. Special shout-out to the Red Rabbit, Pollo Morta, Mone-Thai, and Barr’s Chocolate. You all know why. If you are one of the teens who worked at the Zehrs and meet me in the street, tell me and I will buy you dinner. Or write you a recommendation letter. Or something.
Thank you to Kristen Ciccarelli (and Joe and Yonder). You welcomed me into your home and let me stare at the ocean through your window and pester your neighbours about cod. I love all three of you (even the one who makes me sneeze!).
Is it weird to thank Dragon Age? It has fixed me twice, so I probably should. God, I love those games. I’m glad they reassembled the storytelling parts of my brain (and that I can spinny-stab).
Addy-girl, I love you so much. You were my brightest star in 2020, and I cannot wait to watch you take over day care. (Griffey, if it were up to me, you would ALWAYS have Popsicles, but unfortunately that kind of decision-making is above my pay grade, I’m sorry.)
Aetherbound was born on an Air Canada cocktail napkin at O’Hare Airport in 2015, carried around in the author’s jean jacket pocket for several years, rebirthed on the Trans-Canada Highway somewhere in the middle of New Brunswick, and written with no small amount of agony during phase 3 of pandemic lockdown.
I love you all, and I hope you have enough to eat.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
E. K. Johnston is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of several YA novels, including the L.A. Time Book Prize finalist The Story of Owen and Star Wars: Ahsoka. Her novel A Thousand Nights was shortlisted for the Governor General's Award. The New York Times called The Story of Owen "a clever first step in the career of a novelist who, like her troubadour heroine, has many more songs to sing" and in its review of Exit, Pursued by a Bear, The Globe & Mail called Johnston "the Meryl Streep of YA," with "limitless range." E. K. Johnston lives in Stratford, Ontario. Follow her on Twitter at @ek_johnston.
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