Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(99)

We march for twenty minutes, up a steady rise, until finally we find ourselves on a bluff overlooking an impact crater: a massive, circular indentation in the skin of this dead world, stretching to the horizon. But in the center of it, I’m astonished to see— “A doorway,” Finian whispers.

At least, that’s what it looks like. It’s huge—at least ten kilometers across. Open like a mouth to the sky, it leads into a vast, dark passage beyond. The surface of this planet is a wasteland, but the tunnel interior is virtually untouched by the elements.

“Should it … be open?” I ask, uncertain.

I glance at Aurora sidelong, feel the tension coming off her in waves.

“Be’shmai?” Kal asks, looking at her intently.

“This is where the crystal city was, Kal,” she says, her voice not quite her own. “This is …”

She shakes her head.

“All of you. Hold on to me, to each other.”

She offers her hands, still staring into the abyss below us. Kal takes her right one, and I take her left, holding tight. Zila grabs Kal, and Finian locks fingers with me, giving me a small squeeze of reassurance.

“You okay, Stowaway?” he asks Auri.

“Just hold on,” she replies.

I feel it tingling on the back of my neck. A power, a rush, a greasy tang in the air. And without warning, I’m lifted off my feet, up into the colorless sky.

I gasp, tempted to shriek girlishly for a bit. And, looking at Aurora, at her mouth pressed thin, her eye burning with blinding white light, I realize she’s the one doing this—moving us with nothing but the power of her mind.

When the Ra’haam attacked us on Octavia III, she lifted us to safety then, too. Kept the Ra’haam at bay. But she was barely in control of it—I got the feeling she wasn’t even really herself, just a puppet for the power inside her. But I can see, I can feel, she’s herself now. This is Aurora, wielding the gift the Eshvaren gave her like a master. Lifting us up like we’re kids’ toys, over the blasted landscape, down into the crater, and then into that long, dark tunnel beyond.

“Wow,” Finian says, watching Aurora’s face.

“I concur,” Zila murmurs.

We move into the tunnel, accelerating under the force of Auri’s will. I can feel that each of us is having a time of it, each reacting to this display of newfound power in a different way. Kal takes it best—he probably got a taste of this in the Echo, after all. I can feel his adoration as he looks at his girl, admiration at how far she’s come. But again, I get the feeling he’s uncertain somehow. About what, I can only guess.

Zila is looking at Auri with something like fascination. Taking readings on her uniglass. That big brain of hers in overdrive. Fin is a little more gobsmacked, and I’m right there with him. Less than a day ago, Auri was a tiny, frightened kid, afraid of using this thing inside her for fear of hurting the people around her. Now she wields it like she was born to it. Like this is exactly what she’s supposed to be doing.

We leave the surface behind. The light of the red dwarf we’re orbiting fades, but the light from Auri’s eye illuminates the tunnel before us. The shaft is kilometers across—so big I can’t see all the edges. The stone is perfectly smooth, beautiful patterns woven by the layers of sedimentary rock we’re cutting through. My enviro-suit warns me the temperature is falling, gravity decreasing, our speed climbing. I look at Auri, a little worried, but she seems totally in control, determination written in the lines of her face.

The walls change from rock to rainbow-colored crystal. The temperature outside our suits is now a hundred below. I can hear my heart thumping against my ribs, and the tunnel stretches on so long and empty all around us as we float downward into the core of this dead world that I’m almost about to say something, I’m almost about to speak when— “Great Maker … ,” Finian breathes.

Before us, the tunnel opens out into a massive chamber. A giant hollow space, carved far beneath the surface of the Eshvaren world, blanketed with the dust of a million years. I can see bizarre structures made out of the same crystal that lines the walls, their purpose totally unknowable. The sense of space in here, the utter alienness, is almost frightening. Each of us looks around in awe and wonder at those impossible shapes, glimmering and shifting in Aurora’s light.

“What is this place?” I whisper.

“A … workshop?” Finian breathes.

“A weapons factory,” Zila says.

We fly on toward the center, between the alien machines, the sense of excitement in my chest building. All the time we’ve spent, all the loss we’ve suffered, it’s all going to be worth it. I can see it in front of us now: a massive scaffold rising out of the darkness. I can feel Aurora’s elation spilling into me, the thrill of this discovery, the thought that despite the enemy we’re pitting ourselves against, this war can be won, the Ra’haam can be beaten, because this girl beside me, this tiny powerhouse thrumming with midnight-blue energy, is the Trigger, and now at last …

… we have the Weapon.

We reach the crystal scaffold. Tall as skyscrapers. Wide as a city. My eyes straining as I peer into the dark beyond, looking for the key to everything.

“Um … ,” Finian says.

“Yeah …” I frown. “Um.”