Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)(124)

he

makes



a





leap





and his mind finds hers, and HOLDS TIGHT.

And with a cry, one by one, his squad and his cursing sister throw their minds after his, and they form a chain that keeps one small part of the girl bound in this time and this place… .

And all of them are with her as the crystal ship vanishes, and they watch as it appears so very, very far away, in the dark between galaxies, where there is no other life, where nobody’s home and heart will be taken.

And they watch as the ship melts away into nothingness, leaving just the man floating in the black.

And he smiles, and he tips back his head, and slowly he lets out his breath. And he exhales a million stars, a million souls and more, until the black space is lit as bright as any galaxy, until the Ra’haam dances and shimmers like fireflies, like new bluegreen stars, endless constellations, living and loving and joined.

And slowly, no longer needed, his body crumbles to dust.

And still the five of them cling to just one star, stretched beyond their limits, so fierce, and so full of love, and so determined never to leave another of their squad behind.





And that one star is me.



“Be’shmai,” whispers Kal. “Come home.”

“We still need you,” Scarlett calls.

“There’s too much left to see,” Fin says.

“You won’t be alone,” Tyler promises.

“He will be impossible to live with if you do not,” Saedii mutters.

And laughter ripples through all of us at that, and for a moment I almost wish I could untangle myself, but I don’t see a way.

Jie-Lin, the Ra’haam whispers, every voice joined, every voice different, every voice reveling in that newly remembered individuality.

What do you wish?

I wish …

Be’shmai, come home.

We still need you.

There’s too much left to see.

You won’t be alone.

He will be impossible to live with if you do not.

And then there is one more voice, from one more of my squad.

Cat is one of those gorgeous stars, a voice in my head, a rough shoulder pushing against mine, a quicksilver grin. A newly remembered self who will live out here forever.

I don’t think it’s time yet, Stowaway.

And with the smallest push, she shows me where to find the fault line, where to press so that …

… But the cost.

The cost.

To die in the fire of war is easy. To live in the light of peace, much harder.

I reach for Kal, who followed me into the Echo, into the future and home again, and my midnight blue finds his violet, and my mind caresses his, tries to remember every part of it, tries to learn him so I’ll never forget.

The window starts to close, the connection beginning to fade between our galaxy and the place the Ra’haam has gone, and Cat’s tangled up in me and I’m tangled up in her, and a symphony of memories flows through me: a bluegreen planet where she died and was born, and backward to an underwater ballroom, and stolen hours in shuttles, and one night that was supposed to be perfect and ended in heartbreak, and back, back to borrowed outfits and jokes in the back of class and entrance exams, the faces and feelings and moments whirling by, until they reach a crescendo, and a boy pushes a girl over on the first day of kindergarten.

She shows me how many memories a single life can contain.

And at once I see the harmony of the Ra’haam, and I see the wild, unpredictable beauty of a life lived alone—but never entirely alone.

I gather up every last part of my strength, and I turn my face so I don’t have to see …

… and I make the cut.

I sit up, gasping like I’ve been underwater, and I see my friends are gathered around me, Ty and Scarlett and Fin. Saedii has her hand on Kal’s shoulder, and I try to reach out for him, to reassure him, and—

Nothing.

It’s like smacking into a plain white wall.

“Be’shmai?” His voice is urgent as he drops to his knees beside me.

“What have you done?” Saedii asks, staring at me.

“It’s gone,” Scarlett breathes.

“What’s gone?” Finian demands.

“Her power,” Tyler supplies quietly.

“It was the only way,” I say quietly.

There’s an emptiness inside me, but the chamber that contains it is unimaginably small. I was so vast—I was infinite.

And now I am in this muffled silence, everything as quiet as a snow day.

I’ve … amputated the part of me that was joined to the Ra’haam, and I can’t sense any of my friends, any more than I could back when all this began. I’m not a Trigger. I’m not a savior.

I’m a perfectly ordinary girl.

I could have lived forever in the moment I kissed a million of them goodbye, but though I feel impossibly strange and empty, just listening with my ears, just seeing with my eyes, when Kal pulls me in against him in a fierce embrace, and I hear his heart beating loud and true through his ribs, the … the sheer joy of being alive is overwhelming.

I can’t feel him in my mind at all. I can see him, though, and touch him, and when I smile up at him through my tears, and he smiles back, I know my choice was right.