Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(18)

They have violated our trust.

Tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

They have broken our code.

Tap, tap, tap.

My cheeks heat with a momentary flush of embarrassment that it has taken me so long to understand. But there is no time for such indulgence. I take out my uniglass and begin my calculations.

“Can you sense your sister too, Kal?” Aurora asks. “Because when I’m … when I use my powers … I can see something in you. Feel something in your mind. Maybe you have a touch of your mother in you too?”

“It is possible, be’shmai,” he replies. “The gift is passed through the blood.”

I scroll through another round of calculations and—filing away with interest the fact that I feel the urge at all—allow myself a small smile of satisfaction.

“Zila?” Scarlett notes my change in demeanor, glancing at my uniglass. “Do you have something you want to share with the class?”

“Yes,” I say, eyes still on my calculations.

“… Well?” Scarlett asks.

“Admiral Adams has not abandoned us,” I declare. “His broadcast contained a coded message.”

I turn my eyes to Tyler.

“And I have just broken it.”





5

KAL

We have not even kissed yet.

My squad members would say this is a strange thought to be entertaining in the middle of a crisis. I know Aurora herself would probably think it foolish. And that, in essence, is the heart of the problem. Because I am not feeling what humans feel. I am not feeling like, or lust, or even love.

I am feeling the Pull.

Syldrathi poets have spent millennia trying to describe it. I studied the work of our most renowned maesters back on Syldra. Sometimes I put their verses to music and played them on my siif beneath the lias trees outside our home. Billions of words over thousands of years. Songs and sonnets, couplets and hymns. All trying to evoke even a fraction of how this feels.

Having lived it now, I know not a single one of them has come close.

The Pull is more than words.

Love is a drop in the ocean of what I feel for her.

Love is a single sun in a heaven full of stars.

And I know Aurora cannot really understand it. That humans do not feel as Syldrathi feel. And as much as I want her, I do not wish to rush her or—spirits forbid—frighten her away. And so I keep all this inside as best I can.

But we have not even kissed yet.

Spirits of the Void, this is torture… .

“Get over yourself, Pixieboy,” Finian mutters.

“… What?”

The Betraskan blinks his large black eyes.

“I said get over here, Pixieboy,” he repeats. “We gotta run through this.”

I breathe deep, run my hand across my brow. My squad has gathered in the cramped living space of our so-called apartment. This place is smaller than an Enlei’s den, and smells twice as noxious. But we have little choice with our available funds, and with my sister now on the hunt through the Emerald City, we must lay low, among the dregs who ask no questions. At least with Zila’s powers of deduction—nothing short of brilliant, I must admit—we now have a chance of getting off this accursed station once and for all.

The wall display in our new hovel is nonfunctional, and Finian has his uniglass plugged into his exosuit, projecting a schematic of the Dominion Repository on the opposite wall in glowing light. I take a seat on the tiny couch beside Aurora, staring at the image. Her split brow is knitted closed by a small, flesh-colored suture; the bruise under her right eye is a dark constellation. Her lips are soft, bow-shaped, hypnotic to watch. She reaches out and touches my hand gently, her fingertips lighting fires across my skin.

“You okay?” she asks softly.

I give her my best attempt at a reassuring smile. “I am well.”

“Will you two get a room?” Tyler says.

“… What?” I scowl.

“I said there’s two ways into the room,” Tyler says, pointing to the schematic. “Main entrance to the south, and a smaller one on the west. Both are guarded, but the west has two fewer security goons. So, if trouble hits, that’s the way we leave.”

“But trouble won’t hit, right?” Scarlett says. “Because all your ideas are amazing?”

“Exactly,” Tyler says, ignoring his sister’s jab. “Now, according to the admiral’s coded message …”

Here Tyler pauses to offer Zila a small round of applause, which I and the rest of the squad join in on. Zila ducks her head, dark curls tumbling over her eyes. But I catch the ghost of a smile on her lips as Tyler continues.

“… there’s some kind of cache waiting for us in the security deposit room, past the main foyer. It’s apparently coded to accept Scar’s DNA ident. Not sure why Adams thought to set it up that way.”

Scarlett raises one brow. “Because I’m fabulous?”

“Yeah, that’s definitely it,” Tyler mutters, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, that means Scar will be taking point on this one. We have no idea what’s back there in terms of weight, so Kal, you’re going with her in case it’s heavy.”

Scarlett glances at me. “You and me, Muscles. Dress sexy.”

She winks at Aurora, and Aurora smirks back, squeezing my hand. Most of us have become accustomed to Scarlett’s insistence on flirting with anything with a heartbeat. But I notice Finian is staring at the floor, looking altogether glum.