Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(17)

Tap.

Tap, tap.

Tap.

Tyler is the one to break the silence. He is huddled in the corner with his sister pressed against him, his knees lifted to protect his crotch. I should ask to examine his most recent injury, but I calculate that the probability of a refusal, followed by a sarcastic response from Finian, is almost one hundred percent.

Tyler still looks a little dazed as he speaks.

“Kal,” he says. “We have a lot of problems on the boil already without this kind of surprise cropping up.”

“My sister prides herself on appearing when least needed,” our Tank says. His face is still daubed with his own blood, and that of the Unbroken.

“Well, where’d she come from?” Scarlett asks.

“I know not,” Kal replies. “I have not seen Saedii since before I left for the academy. She was unaware I had even joined Aurora Legion.”

“She mentioned those Unbroken we fought back in the bar on the World Ship,” Tyler says. “I’m guessing they passed on word to her about you?”

Kal inclines his head. “I did tell you I started that fight as a diversion.”

“Because I used your name,” he says.

Kal nods, brooding. “Perhaps I should have silenced them permanently… .”

My finger taps away at my knee again, the movement involuntary. My hand seems to shift of its own accord, and begins tapping the rhythm out against my left forearm instead.

Ah.

I realize I am mimicking the rhythm of Admiral Adams’s finger during the broadcast in which he condemned us. I have watched the footage fourteen times now. I have not tried to shake the compulsion to do so. It is my experience that when my mind seizes on something seemingly insignificant, usually it is solving a problem I have not yet identified.

It is a hallmark of the highly intelligent.

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap.

Tap.

We condemn, in strongest possible terms, the actions of Aurora Legion Squad 312 at Sagan Station… .

Aurora lays one gentle hand on Kal’s arm. “Tell us about your sister,” she suggests, oblivious to my internal problem solving.

Kal swallows, dropping his gaze to Aurora’s fingers. They are stained with her own blood, red alongside his purple, dried and flaking around her nails.

“Our father was a warrior of the Warbreed Cabal,” he says. “But our mother was a Waywalker. They are the most spiritual of my people. They study the mysteries of the Fold, and the self. My father taught us to kill. But my mother tried to teach us the waste found in death.” He is quiet for a moment, and I see Aurora’s hand squeeze his. “I took her lessons to heart. Saedii did not.”

I consider the difference between my own parents. My mother was the more practical. My father was warmer. I wonder what he would think of the person I have become. I am very different now from the little girl I used to be.

It is an uncomfortable question, and one I have not considered in years.

I push it away.

Tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

Kal continues. “Saedii and I grew up together, but we grew ever apart. After our father died during the battle at Orion, I joined Aurora Academy to help bridge the gap between our two peoples. My sister joined the Starslayer to tear it wider. In these choices, you find all you need to understand us.”

“You … ,” Scarlett begins. “You … lost your dad at Orion, too?”

Kal slowly nods. I see the Jones twins exchange a glance—obviously remembering their own father, who perished in that same infamous battle. Scarlett’s gaze softens as she looks at the Syldrathi boy.

“I’m sorry, Kal,” she murmurs. “You never said …”

Kal’s normally perfect posture slumps very slightly. Aurora squeezes his hand again. For a moment, our Tank’s eyes are clouded, his expression pained. But despite this revelation—that three of our squad members lost their fathers in the same bitter conflict—Tyler keeps his mind on the task at hand.

“And now your sister wants what? To kill you?”

Kal hears the note in our Alpha’s voice and sits up straight once more. “She wishes me to embrace the war in my blood. The fact that I have not joined the Unbroken is a shame to her. And she will not stop pursuing me until she has her way.”

“We’re pretty good at dodging pursuit, Kal,” Scarlett says. “We’ve had a lot of practice lately.”

The Syldrathi shakes his head. “The Waywalkers among my people are sensitives. Empaths. And though she was raised Warbreed, Saedii inherited a touch of our mother’s gift. My sister can … sense me. She has been able to do so since we were children. Not from an infinite distance, but certainly while we are stranded in the Emerald City.” He pauses, lifting his chin in the manner I have learned often proceeds one of his pronouncements that owe more to nobility than sense. “I am a danger to all of you. It is better that I leave, and draw away the peril.”

Aurora begins to protest, but is cut off by Ty, who lifts one hand—even that movement is pained—and speaks.

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” he says.

I am only half listening. My mind is humming as loudly as the tubes around us, and as I watch another pair of bodies shoot past, I am recalling Adams’s face in his message. The rhythm and inflection of his words.