Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(61)

“But …” Finian looks back and forth between us. “We can’t leave Tyler!”

“We cannot risk taking Aurora closer to the TDF boarding parties,” Zila says. “She is all that matters here.”

Still bleary from the drugs, Aurora shakes her head, searches for focus. Seconds tick by, all of us silent. I realize suddenly how important Tyler is to our squad. We are leaderless without him—nobody to make the snap decision, the hard call, to shoulder the agonizing responsibility of putting others in danger.

“Auri,” Fin says. “Can you use … I mean, your power or whatever?”

Her eyes widen at that. I can see the memory of the Hadfield shining in them. Her loss of control in the cryo section, the chaos and destruction she wrought. She could have killed us. We know it. She knows it. And her eyes are alight with the fear of what might happen if she loses control again.

“I …”

She looks at me, anguish in her stare.

“I don’t think I can …”

“It is all right, be’shmai,” I say, kissing her brow.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, I—”

“Get Auri to the Zero,” Scarlett snaps, looking at me. “Zila’s right—we can’t risk her being caught by the TDF. If I’m not down there in ten minutes, you blast the hells out of that bay and don’t look back.”

“Where are you going?” Fin demands.

Scarlett strides across to an emergency supply locker near the warden’s console, grabs a breather mask she finds inside. Hefting the disruptor rifle I gave her, she checks the power feed.

“I’m going to get Ty.”

“Scarlett, that is unwise,” Zila says.

“The halls will be crawling with adepts and TDF assault troops,” I say.

She meets my eyes then. Fire burning in her own. “He’s my brother, Kal.”

Again I am struck by the tie between the Jones twins. How deep the bond between them is in comparison to the one I share with Saedii.

I remember we were close once. When we were children on Syldra, when our parents still loved one another, the two of us were inseparable. The blood between us is more like water now. The memory of our mother, the specter of our father hanging ever between us. If I were in danger, I know she would leave me to rot, and a part of me aches at that—more deeply than the wound at my shoulder, than the bruises at my ribs, than the certainty that I cannot accompany Scarlett on her quest. That I cannot take Aurora into danger.

“Scarlett,” Aurora whispers, helpless tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry … I …”

“I know,” she nods. “Just go.”

Finian grabs a breather and shoulders a stolen rifle. “Well, I’m going with you.”

Scarlett opens her mouth to object, but he cuts her off.

“Don’t even try to argue,” he says. “You’re not going up there alone, Scar.”

Scarlett looks the thin boy up and down, hand propped on her hip, lips twisting into a smirk. “Still suffering from that bout of boneheaded heroics, huh?”

He shrugs. “Let’s hope it’s not a terminal case.”

The ship lurches beneath us. Under the scream of the alarms, we can hear the noise of distant disruptor fire. Cries of pain. Shouted orders and twisting metal and roaring flame. The taste of burning plastic hangs heavy in the air.

“Ten minutes,” Zila warns. “Then we must leave without you.”

Scarlett nods. “Auri is the only thing that really matters. Look after her, Kal.”

“With my life,” I vow.

“Be careful,” Aurora pleads.

Without another word, Scarlett and Finian don their enviro-masks and dash off into the growing chaos. I catch one final glimpse of them, side by side, before they disappear utterly into the smoke.

Knowing the danger they fly toward, I wonder if we will see either of them alive again.





15

TYLER

I really should have studied my Syldrathi more.

The bridge around me is in a sort of tightly controlled chaos. Syldrathi arrogance is legendary, and they typically make “aloof” an art form, but all of it—the arrogance, the cool, the we are so much better than you attitude—is currently being strained to breaking point. Some of these Unbroken are going so far as to raise their voices, so I know business is getting Serious. I can only understand every sixth word, but they’re the important ones. Words like depleted and destroyed. Words like unable and unresponsive.

Words that mean Andarael is losing.

With no time to send me to the brig, and not willing to leave me in her chambers, Saedii had her personal guard drag me up to the bridge with her, shoving me into a corner to watch the fireworks. Truth is, I’ve never seen a battle of this scope play out live before, and the tactics nerd in me is awed by it. Studying the moves and countermoves, the holographic displays projected on every wall, glowing images of carriers and destroyers and fighter craft overlaid with Syldrathi script.

As incomprehensible as the text may be, I can still appreciate the battle unfolding around us. Much as I hate to admit it, Saedii is a brilliant commander. She stands in the center of the bridge, Isha on her shoulder, directing the battle like a maestro before her orchestra. She acts decisively, thinking quickly, reading the conflict perfectly. She gives orders without hesitation, and her crew obeys instantly—it’s like watching the internal workings of some deadly machine.