Nero Awakening Page 9

  His words hit me with real, physical force. Like strong arms wrap around me, holding me tight, like a hug he couldn’t hold back one second longer.

  I’m stunned into silence for several long moments while I replay what he just said, over and over in my mind.

  “I’m scared to sleep lately,” I say. My voice comes out small and weak. “Because I get these visions of our future. And every time I wake up and find none of it was real, I completely fall apart.”

  “Exactly,” Valen breathes. “I can’t close my eyes without living through our wedding, over and over again. I can’t sleep without seeing our life playing out, or seeing our children laughing or crying or screaming. And every morning I wake up and all I want to do is tell you about it, but you’re not there next to me. And I’m reminded that we’re leagues away from each other, and none of those futures can ever, ever come to pass.”

  “Valen,” I breathe. And it comes out as a sob. There are so many more words I need to say. So much more I have to get out of me. But I can’t sort them out. I can’t find a way to express them. So I say his name and nothing else.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Nova,” he says. His voice quakes. I can feel him trying to hold on. “I’m losing my mind, every slam night. Reality and the future are shredding me to pieces. I’m going to go insane.”

  Insane. Insane. I feel insane.

  Change your future, Evander had said. Yours and his.

  Valen can’t or won’t leave Cyrillius. He’s made that very clear.

  “If Cyrillius were dead, would you walk away from all of it?”

  The words come out of my mouth before I’ve thought about them, about their implications.

  “What?” Valen asks. He sounds unsure. But hopeful.

  “You’re in Cyrillius’ debt,” I say as my thoughts begin to swirl and tumble. “Not Dominion’s. But if Cyrillius were dead, could you walk away from everything?”

  My heart is racing.

  I want this so bad. I want it with every fiber of my being.

  “Nova, I can’t kill Cyrillius.” He sounds so regretful. So apologetic.

  “Not you,” I say. I feel like I’m gathering Neron into me, but it’s determination. It’s courage. “Me. If I can kill Cyrillius, will you walk away from it all?” My blood is surging, pulsing so hard, so hard it just might burst out of my veins. “If I kill Cyrillius, will you leave it all and be with me, Valen?”

  The moment goes silent and still. Like a held breath.

  Please, I silently plea with myself, with him. Please.

  “Yes.”

  And I explode. Like everything was stalled inside of me and suddenly rushes out. Happiness. Fear. Preparation.

  I give a nod, even though he can’t see it. “You stay where you are, then,” I say, the words rushing out of me in a wave. “I can’t risk Cyrillius somehow swaying you before I can get to him.”

  “Nova, it isn’t going to be that easy,” he says, his voice a warning. “He has hundreds of thousands of soldiers. Not to mention the Kinduri. If they touch you, they’ll know what you’re trying to do, and they’ll burrow into your mind and make you think you’re in immeasurable pain for the rest of your life.”

  I shake my head, barely hearing his warning. “It won’t be a problem getting to him,” I say as a wicked smile begins forming on my lips. “He’s already trying to find me. All I have to do is walk right up to his doors.”

  “Nova, I-”

  “Stay on Kaelea, Valen,” I say, cutting him off. “I’m ready to fight. I’m going to change our future.”

  And before he can try to talk sense into me, I slam that door between our minds closed. I get up off the rock. And I head back to the stairs. To find Edan. To put my plan into motion.

  “Will you promise me you’ll grant them asylum and safety?” I’m begging, but I’ll do whatever it takes at this point. “I need to know that they’ll be safe here. That you aren’t going to kick them off-planet as soon as I’m gone.”

  I’m pleading and desperate. Me and Edan are standing in Zara’s office with her and Kyril and Tomas.

  “Logically, it does not make sense for them to stay on Salypso,” Zara says in that calm, analyzing way of hers. “They’re not Nero, they seem to have no interest in joining the Bahiri.”

  “But I know there are relationships building between a few of them,” I say, throwing the words in Kyril’s face, because I’m feeling desperate.

  He looks at me with a glare, but it’s infused with guilt.

  Zara looks over at him, but she doesn’t look surprised. Maybe slightly annoyed.

  “And I can’t say that I know it’s the same, but apparently there’s something between Zayne and Nymiah,” I say. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about that. Maybe because I haven’t been able to come right out and ask him what’s going on.

  “Being on this planet with only a handful of other people can make hearts lonely,” Tomas speaks up. And I wonder if he’s talking about his own heart. Has he ever been tempted by Zara, or any of the other Bahiri?

  “There is nowhere safer in the galaxy,” I say as I take a step forward and place my palms flat on Zara’s desk. “Zayne himself helped ensure the planet remains invisible to scanners. If I can do what I’m going to try and do, is it not a fair trade? Keeping my father and my friends safe?”

  Kyril and Tomas know it isn’t up to them. Zara is the one in charge here. It’s her call. They both look to her, waiting for her reply.

  She meets my eyes, studying me. I see darkness in hers. I see exhaustion. I see fight. I see a leader who has done too much in her life and is now taking her leave.

  “Your crew may stay,” she says. “So long as they do not cause any trouble. For one solar. I can not guarantee a place for them on this planet after that.”

  One solar.

  It feels like forever. Yet not enough time.

  “I’ll take it,” I say with a determined nod. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

  I stand up straight, about to head for the door when Zara stands.

  “You know you will not come back from this alive, right?” she asks. And her words cut through me like a cold knife. “That your odds of accomplishing this on your own, what we failed to do with over twenty life-trained Neros are non-existent?”

  I look back over my shoulder at her, feeling my stomach tighten.

  “That’s what makes her so different from you.” Edan surprises me when he speaks up. “She’s spent her whole life waiting for something bigger to happen. Spent her whole life waiting for Cyrillius to come and destroy it. She’s not alone. But that’s how she’ll slip under the radar, and slit his throat in broad daylight.”

  His words give me courage and a smile curls on my lips.

  The three of them look at us with bewildered amusement.

  “Good luck, Nova,” Kyril says with his arms crossed over his chest. “Give him void.”

  “May your endeavor be Neron blessed,” Tomas says with the dip of his head, his eyes slowly closing for a moment.

  I nod in return, because I hate when the Bahiri bow to the Nero like we’re something to worship.

  “I pray you have something special, Nova Nero,” Zara says, holding my gaze without faltering. “I pray that you become everything Evander prophesied you would be.”

  And my stomach goes cold.

  My ears ring just a little.

  Edan grabs my hand and leads me out of the office, and I’m too in my own head to say goodbye.

  Evander predicted that someone would come along and free Neron. That can only mean the end of Dominion.

  I’ve always fought against the idea it was me he prophesied about.

  But here I am. Bound and determined that I’m going to kill Cyrillius. That I am going to end him.

  “We’ve all known it,” Edan says as we step through the gate of Zara’s garden and out onto the stones that surround the Tabernacle. “I guess you’re just now realizing you’re the last to kn
ow it?”

  My eyes fix on the ground and my brain is tripping over itself, trying to make sense, trying to sort everything out.

  No.

  Just no.

  But I can’t lie to myself. I know exactly what I’m going to do.

  So I push the thoughts out of my head. I raise my chin, slip my shoulders back, and, side by side with Edan, we make our way down the stairs back into the village.

  The scent of food is heavy in the air when we step inside the house. Oona is busy in the kitchen, just setting everything out. There’s some kind of bird marinated in something I don’t even have a name for. Some kind of seaweed and flowers and juice. There’s orange root vegetables and pink fruits that I’ve seen growing on bushes. My mouth waters as I sit at the table next to my father.

  “How was your training today?” my father asks as he dishes himself a plate.

  “Great,” I answer. I give myself an internal pep talk, telling myself that I have to make him confident, so when I do what I’m about to do, he doesn’t have to be so afraid. “I’ve officially surpassed Nymiah. Kyril says that if I wanted I could start teaching Kily.”

  “Already?” he asks in surprise as he takes the fruit bowl I pass him.

  I nod. “I might be old, but apparently I’m a fast learner.”

  “But it’s only been three lunars,” he says, his brows furrowed.

  “How about a ‘congratulations’ instead of questions?” I say, raising an eyebrow at my father.

  He makes a chuckle sound and wraps an arm around my shoulders, giving a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Nova. I’m very proud of you.”

  “So does that mean we’ll be leaving soon?” Zayne asks. And I know I hear a hint of disappointment in his voice.

  “That was my plan,” I say. But looking around at their reactions to the four words I just spoke, I see disappointment. “What do you all think?”

  “I think I’m enjoying the peace and quiet on Salypso,” Reena speaks up, surprising us all. “I never realized how stressful a life of illegal activity was until I had a few lunars of change. I don’t mind staying a little longer.”

  I smile at her, and I wonder if she knows that I know she’s been sneaking moments with Kyril Nero.

  “I thought we were looking for somewhere safe,” Zayne says. His voice is quiet, as if he isn’t sure he should voice what he’s thinking. “I don’t know that we’re going to find anywhere more safe than this planet, considering it’s invisible to scanners.”

  I look over at my father, who is happily eating his food. “What do you think, Dad?”

  He pauses, looking over at me with his gray eyes. “All I ever tried to do since the moment I found you was keep you safe. If the Nero and the Bahiri aren’t trying to kick us off, I don’t mind staying.”

  I don’t know how to feel about this. I know my future isn’t here on Salypso. Maybe I only have lunars left to live, my future could be short. But as I look around at them all, I’m not as tempted as I should be to stay with them. I want them here. I want them to be safe. I want them to be happy.

  Life changes. Stories evolve. Fate takes families separate ways.

  I smile at my father, reach over, and cover his hand with mine. He squeezes my fingers, then resumes his meal.

  It’s a nice, last meal together. We laugh and talk and everything seems so normal. It’s exactly what I hoped for out of this night.

  Because I don’t know if I’ll ever have it with them again.

  That night, before he heads to bed, I hug my father.

  “Thank you,” I say against his broad, strong chest.

  “For what?” he asks.

  I squeeze myself tighter to him, taking in a deep breath of his scent, committing it to memory. “Just . . . for everything. For being the father I need.”

  He squeezes me tight and presses his cheek into the top of my head. “I love you always.”

  “No matter what,” I say.

  He presses a kiss into my hair, and with a smile, I tell him goodnight and watch him step into his bedroom and close the door.

  With a scared pit in my stomach, I step into my own and close the door.

  Quietly, I pack my bag. I stuff all the clothing I own into it. I grab my staff and hook it onto my belt. I may be able to forge any weapon I need out of Neron, but I’m still attached to my staff, the first weapon I ever created.

  I slip my boots on and lace them up.

  Looking in the mirror, I tie my hair back. I look into my eyes. I tell myself that I can do this.

  I’m not ready. I would probably never be ready, could never train enough, even if I spent my entire slowly-aging life preparing.

  What I’m about to face is so massive I’m not even going to try imagining it.

  So I have to be stupid. I have to be ignorant. I have to just go in blindly.

  When the house has been quiet for an hour, I step out of my door with my bag slung over my shoulder. I tap twice on Edan’s door, quietly, so no one else hears. His door silently swings open, and he steps out, his own bag ready.

  Not making a sound, I place the note explaining in simple terms what I am doing on the table, and we walk to the front door and step outside.

  The air is warm and there’s a gentle breeze. We walk up the stairs, to where the path breaks off, heading toward the fields.

  But movement in the dim light pulls my attention up the hill, toward the Tabernacle.

  I see four figures standing there. Zara, Kyril, Tomas, and Evander.

  They stand with their hands over their hearts. A well wish.

  I place my own hands over my heart and dip my head in a nod. A thank you.

  Together, Edan and I step onto the path and head into the field. The grasses brush against my legs, smashed under my boots.

  As I walk up to it, the hatch of The Corsair opens, and standing there waiting, is the Frank.

  “Welcome, Nova,” it says in it’s flat, computer voice.

  I smile at the robot as Edan and I walk up the ramp. I take in a breath, looking around at the command deck.

  “Where would you like me to take you tonight?” it asks, ever the obedient and willing pilot.

  I set my bag down on the ground and walk to the co-pilot’s seat. Edan drops his bag beside mine and comes to stand behind me. He places a hand on my shoulder, a show of support.

  I look out the viewport. We’re faced toward the cliff edge and I can see dark ocean in front of me, stretching for kilometers and kilometers.

  “Set our destination as Isroth,” I say. And as the words leave my lips, I feel darkness gathering in my chest. But also hope.

  If I can do this, it will change everything.

  It will affect trillions of lives.

  It will free Korpillion.

  It will end Valen’s tether to Cyrillius.

  It will mean that he and I can be together.

  “Yes, Nova,” the Frank says. He crosses to the pilot’s seat. The ports extend from his fingers, plugging directly into the ship. “Please be seated and buckle up.”

  I look back at Edan just once, and the excited, manic gleam in his eyes gives me courage. I smile. We both sit. We both buckle up.

  I hear the engines fire up. I hear the Neron core come to life.

  The ship rises into the air.

  And I’m thrown back into my seat as the ship picks up speed. Faster and faster. Salypso becomes a dark blur.

  And then everything is black for a moment.

  Then we leave the planet’s atmosphere. And there are a thousand stars in front of me.

  It would have taken us eight lunars to go straight from Salypso, in the B sector, to Isroth, in the N sector. But as soon as we leave Salypso’s atmosphere, I tell the Frank to point us back to the wormhole.

  It waits there, like a nearly invisible mirror in the sky. My heart starts beating fast as we tip the nose of the ship to it. And as we slip inside, it grows dark. The darkest dark I’ve ever experienced.

  Then we’re through
to the other side.

  The Frank confirms that we are now in the P sector, just half a day away from Laziria. I see that dead planet, the one we found the wormhole hiding behind, just the same as when we first went through it three lunars ago.

  Now we only have to get from the P sector to the N sector. It will only take us four weeks.

  “Are you ready to tell me about your life on Laziria?” I ask as I look at the light on the map that indicates his home planet. “It’s just us. I think by now you can trust me with your history.”

  Edan sits back in his seat, his feet up on the one across from him. “It isn’t a matter of trust,” he says, looking out the viewport. “It’s just that it sounds so tragic, and I don’t want anyone looking at me with sad, sympathetic eyes.”

  “Enlighten me anyway,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He takes one breath, and swallows, still looking out the window. “I was the only child of two of Laziria’s most renowned professors,” he begins his story. “My parents were brilliant, some of the smartest on the entire planet. They were well paid and the most respected at the top university on the planet.”

  This doesn’t shock me. Edan is smart. He might not always come off that way. But he knows things.

  “And my parents weren’t just brilliant in the ways Laziria valued. They wanted to learn about the underbelly of the galaxy. They wanted to understand its workings. They were working on something big. I was too young to understand or care about what it was. But they’d been digging into something to do with Laziria’s dealings with Dominion.”

  “But Laziria doesn’t have any Neron,” I say, my brows furrowing. “Why would Dominion have anything to do with it?”

  “You saw the planet,” Edan says, his eyes finally sliding over to meet mine. “You’ve seen the wealth. The arrogance. Do you really think it’s that much of a stretch that there might be something fishy going on between the planet and Dominion?”