Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(100)

“Oh no,” Aurora whispers.

“Be’shmai?” Kal murmurs.

“No, no, no …”

We all look to Auri, to her face, and it doesn’t take a Legion-trained diplomat to know that something is horribly wrong. We soar on into the dark, weaving through the scaffold, crystal shimmering around us. But it’s obvious that this scaffold was built to hold something. And, as alien as it is, we can all of us tell that it’s empty.

As I see the tears begin to spill down Auri’s cheeks, as I see her face crumple, feel the air around us ripple with her power as her frustration, her horror, her despair comes bubbling to the surface, I know the awful truth.

“It’s not here,” I whisper.

I look to Finian, to Zila, to Kal, and finally, to Aurora.

My heart sinks in my chest as she speaks.

“The Weapon’s gone… .”

· · · · ·

We head back to the Zero. And from there, back into the Fold.

We don’t know what else to do.

I wish Tyler were here. I wish it so badly, it’s like a knife in my ribs. We shared a womb together, he and I, we shared everything, and to find ourselves without him, leaderless, rudderless, reminds us all just how badly we need him. We stand on the Zero’s bridge, the colorscape once more reduced to black and white.

Aurora is pacing back and forth, wearing the darkest scowl I’ve ever seen. Kal stands to one side, brow creased in thought. Fin sits opposite me at the central station, trawling the news feeds, Zila atop the console, chewing a lock of dark hair.

“How could it be gone?” I ask. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Auri replies, voice trembling.

Finian shakes his head. “Crossing into the anomaly would’ve destroyed any normal ship. And to even know where it was … they’d had to have found a probe.”

“Or been told of the location by the Ancients,” Kal replies.

The answer is obvious.

“Another Trigger,” Zila says.

Auri purses her lips. “The Eshvaren said there might have been others before me. The Echo resets when someone leaves it, and this plan has been in place for a million years. But they also said that whoever came before me must have failed, because the Ra’haam is still alive.”

She shakes her head, the air about her rippling with her frustration.

“I don’t get it.”

Finian starts spitballing. “Maybe this other Trigger completed their training, claimed the Weapon, then … I dunno, fell down the stairs or choked on a creshcake or something?” “Perhaps they completed their training,” Kal says, looking at Aurora, “then balked at the price they would pay to defeat the Ra’haam.”

Auri looks at Kal, her voice soft. “Let’s not talk about that, okay?”

Zila’s eyebrow rises two millimeters, which is practically a scream of alarm as far as she goes. “What price?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Auri says, temper flaring. “It doesn’t matter, because the damn Weapon isn’t even there!” The air crackles around her, a pale light flaring in her iris. “After all that! After everything we’ve gone through, and someone’s stolen it right out from under us! Son of a biscuit, I want to just … scream.”

I glance at Kal, but, good lad, he’s already on the job, folding Auri in those covetable arms of his. He kisses her brow tenderly, smooths back her hair.

“All will be well, be’shmai,” he vows. “Trust in this. In us. The sun will rise.”

She sinks against him, sighing. I watch the two of them, realizing how deep they’re into each other now. I can feel the bond that’s grown between them in the time they shared in the Echo, those hours to us that were months to them. The love. And, heartbreaker that I am, slayer of suitors with over fifty confirmed kills in my little black book, I wonder for a moment if I’ll ever have anyone who means as much to me as they do to each other.

“Um,” Finian says.

I glance at our Gearhead, his big black eyes fixed on his screens.

I do my best Tyler impression, eyebrow raised. “Do you have something you’d like to share with the class, Legionnaire de Seel?”

Wordlessly, he flicks a metal-clad finger, his exosuit humming as he transfers his feed to the holo display above the main console. It’s a news feed from TerraNet, the most reliable Earth news source, the words LATEST UPDATE scrolling across the bottom of the screen. It shows footage of a massive Syldrathi armada, thousands upon thousands of ships, all floating like sharks in the Fold.

It’s the biggest fleet I’ve ever seen.

“Amna diir,” Kal breathes.

Fin presses another button, arcing the volume of the feed.

“… Unbroken armada is currently amassing in the Fold near the gateway to Terran space. Terran forces have yet to engage, instead mustering inside the Sol system in defensive posture. This statement was issued from the head of the Terran Defense Force, Admiral Emi Hotep, one hour ago.”

The feed shifts to a severe, bronze-skinned woman with short dark hair, in a sharp TDF officer’s uniform.

“I am sending this message on all channels, addressing the Unbroken fleet: Though we have had differences in our past, the Syldrathi are friends to Earth. We consider you an honorable people, warriors born, and we have no wish to engage in hostilities with Unbroken forces. However, should Syldrathi vessels invade Terran space, they will be met with deadly force.”