“Now that I’ve brought this down upon you, weakened you further.”
“No, Terrachild.” Her tone is gentle now. “You have only shined a light on a truth that was always here. Our downfall is inevitable. It is only a matter of time, and not much more of it at that. We have long talked of our last stand. How bright the last fire may flare before it is snuffed out entirely. Now there is a small chance that our end will be our salvation. That somewhere else, somewhen, it will do some good. But even if you fail, ours will be a last stand worthy of the great histories of all our races.”
“There are so many more than I ever knew,” I murmur. “I’ve barely had a chance to see anything. I’d never even heard of the Ulemna.”
“We were few in the time you came from.” Her eyes peer into mine, old and sad and tired. “And now I am the very last. Of the whole of my people, I am all that remains to remember our songs, our stories. When I am gone …”
I’m silent. What can you say to something like that?
“I will leave you to rest. You must recover as best you can while we prepare Sempiternity.”
She rises slowly, looks to the walls around us, and sighs.
“For her final trip.”
? ? ? ? ?
It’s some time later when Kal wakes. I’ve been lying quietly, studying his face. He’s so impossibly beautiful. I’m sure if I was asleep in a chair, I’d be drooling or my head would have dropped down and given me a double chin, but I’ve never seen him look out of place, and he doesn’t now.
My warrior with the gentlest of souls.
I wish we’d had more time together. It seems so unfair.
I feel his mind stir first. He mentally flexes and stretches, instinctively checking for me, then settles as he finds me. And then his lashes lift, and he looks at me gravely.
We have no secrets now—he can sense my resolve.
“You mean to do this thing,” he says quietly.
“I have no choice,” I reply, lifting one hand to beckon him closer. I still feel like I’ve been run over by a grav-lifter.
He walks over to settle on the edge of my bed, fingers lacing through mine. “Perhaps there is another way,” he says, violet eyes meeting mine.
“But there isn’t.”
“Would you search for it, if you thought it was there for the finding?”
I blink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
His fingers squeeze mine. “We are linked, be’shmai. We are a part of one another. You take a warrior’s joy in the kill; I can feel it as if it were my own. You enjoy the dance of blood. And you wish to dance again.”
“Would it be better if I felt bad about it?” I ask, my hackles rising. “If I sat here and whined like a kid? It doesn’t change what I have to do.”
“Is it what you have to do?” he presses. The rest of the sentence hangs between us—he couldn’t hide it from me even if he wanted, and he lifts his chin as the words echo in my mind.
Or is it what you want to do?
“Is dying piece by piece what I want to do?” My voice rises. “I’m all ears, Kal, if you see another option.”
“I do not,” he admits, but rushes on before I can interrupt. “Yet. But there is still time to seek another answer. We have overcome the impossible before. We will do so again. You rush toward this fate needlessly.”
“Needlessly?” I snap, and a part of me knows that I’m ready to fight because he’s threatening to take it away—it, my godhood. But the rest of me knows the truth: “This is the last safe place in the galaxy. It’s the only spark left that can light the fire we need. If these people can’t get me home, it’s over. We can’t wait until the next time the Ra’haam finds us and more of them die.”
“Them? I do not want you to die!” he snaps, dropping my hand, coming to his feet, swinging away to pace helplessly to the end of the room.
It’s the desperation in his voice that snuffs out my own anger.
“Tens of thousands of people are about to give up their lives, Kal,” I say quietly. “Just to get us closer to the Eshvaren homeworld. To give us a shot at repairing the Weapon. At taking it home. At winning the fight. How can I ask any more of them than I’m willing to give myself?”
He bows his head, his back still to me. “To die in the fire of war is easy,” he says softly. “To live in the light of peace, much harder.”
“This won’t be easy,” I say quietly. “Please, Kal, are you with me?”