Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)(30)

Honestly, it gives me the screaming heebie-jeebies.

“It’s beautiful,” Scarlett says quietly, proving—as did her decision to kiss me—that her judgment is highly questionable.

CRASH.

Out in the storm, that same massive pulse of quantum energy we saw from the hangar bay strikes the sail again. It’s so bright that my vision is momentarily lost to the afterimages. Zila looks down at her wrist display.

“Forty-four minutes …”

“Look,” Scar breathes. “It’s happening again… .”

I blink furiously as the pulse runs up the cable toward the station—an arc of dark energy blazing fiercely against the deeper darkness. The crystal in Scarlett’s necklace is burning too, the black light making my eyes ache.

“Why is it doing that?” Nari demands.

“Excellent question,” Zila replies.

Glancing at the flickering overheads, I mutter, almost to myself, “You know, I sure hope the gravitonic shielding in this sector is still intact.”

“Why?” Scar looks up from her glowing cleavage. “What happens if the gravitonic shielding isn’t still intact?”

Then two things happen at once.

First, the quantum pulse reaches the station, arcing over the hull, through the unshielded section we’re standing in, and right through our bodies.

And second, Nari Kim learns that Scar wasn’t kidding when she said dying was painful.

ZAP.





10



TYLER





I’m marching down a corridor bathed in gray light, Saedii’s First Paladin behind me. The engines shifted tone two minutes ago—we’re at full thrust now, on course to rendezvous with the Unbroken armada. Those news feed headlines are flashing through my skull—all those tiny sparks of conflict being stoked into flame by the Ra’haam and its agents. A theater of mass distraction. A veil to hide the threat until it’s too late.

My head aches—I’m still not recovered from almost dying in that escape pod explosion. I’m unsteady on my feet, my fingers are tingling, and whenever I close my eyes, I can still feel that dream in my skull.

That voice, imploring me, over and over.

… you still have a chance of fixing this …

I’m supposed to be good at this. Tactics is my thing. But I’m trapped aboard an enemy vessel with hundreds of Syldrathi fanatics, and every moment I waste here is another moment the Ra’haam gets to gestate beneath the surface of Octavia and its other nursery worlds.

I don’t know where Scarlett is. Auri. Zila. Fin. Kal. I don’t know if they’re alive or dead.

And Maker, this headache …

“Stop.”

Erien speaks behind me, bringing me up short beside a heavy plasteel door. The corridor is lined with them, and glancing around, I’m guessing I’ve been brought to the detention level.

I do as I’m told, turning as Erien presses his palm to the pad beside the door. It cycles open, revealing a dark room, thin cot, bare walls.

“I thought your Templar ordered you to put me in appropriate quarters.”

“These are appropriate quarters. You are a prisoner here, halfbreed, not a guest.” He nods into the room. “Move.”

“Listen,” I say, trying to ignore the pounding in my skull. “I know you think we’re on different sides. But I watched you on the Andarael. Saedii respects you, Erien. She listens to you. And I’m guessing a First Paladin of the Unbroken is smart enough to see when he’s being played. Why would the GIA abduct Saedii if not to provoke a war? Why would—”

His raised hand cuts me off. “I am as interested in your conspiracies as I am in your flatteries. Get inside.”

I grit my teeth, temper rising with my desperation. “I need to talk to Saedii again, we have to—”

“Were it up to me, you would already be dead. Despite the clear blind spot she has for you, Saedii is my Templar, and I will obey her command to see you safely situated. But I warn you—do not insult my honor again.”

I blink. “Blind spot?”

His cool eyes flicker to my throat. The bite marks Saedii left there.

“Look, I don’t mean anything to her,” I assure him. “We were in a tight spot together, she was letting off some steam. It’s nothing.”

Erien tilts his head. “Nothing.”

“I’m just a plaything. She practically tore my head off when she kissed me. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I mean … if you’re worried at all. That other Paladin called you be’shmai, so I figured you and he were—”

“You are a fool.” Erien puts one hand on the sleek black grip of the Syldrathi pulse gun at his waist, setting it to hard Stun. “Get in the cell.”

“Great Maker, will you just think for a minute!” I hiss, my headache flaring again. “Earth dodged war with the Unbroken for years! Why would the GIA suddenly attack the Andarael unless—”

Erien grabs my arm, squeezing tight.

And that’s it.

I don’t like to lose control. That’s why I don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t swear. But the desperation of it, the knowledge we’re all being played, the fear for my squad and my sister, the revelation of the Syldrathi mother I never knew, and this damn headache …