Page 156 of The Last Hope
Standing here, staring at a version of myself—my face older and scarred, and eyes eerily blank—I feel as overcome with madness as the day I lived past my deathday. When I hungered and starved in the Free Lands and nothing made sense except for the boy a country away. Feeling and hoping and screaming for me to keep going.
The recording has sound.
“I don’t have long,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. Noise cracks behind him. Banging, violent booms. It sounds like war…
Looking forward again, his voice is deeper than mine but just as grave. “If you’re hearing this, it means you’ve found her. And you must have many questions, Stork. If you’re with Franny and Court, then I know they must have even more.” Crashing resounds in the background, and he speaks more urgently. “I’m going to explain everything as quickly as I can.”
“What is this?” Stork asks softly, slowly shaking his head. Lost in disbelief.
Franny gapes at the hologram, her brows furrowing while we watch an older version of myself check cautiously over his shoulder…
And then it hits me.
“The future,” I breathe.
This is our future.
The hologram flickers like static interference. He speaks hurriedly. “The three of us—Franny, Stork, and myself—came up with a plan as soon as we learned of the child’s abilities. We knew we must send her back to Earth.” He glances at the baby in his arms.
I look at the baby in mine.
They’re identical, and returning my focus to the hologram, the baby in his arms lets out a soft whimper. “Little one, you’re safe.” His dull gaze lifts to us. “Time travel is a complex business and will be discovered in a decade from your year. So as not to spend the next century agonizing over this, Court. Understand, this was the only way. We only had enough power for two time jumps. One for the book. One for the baby.”
The book.
“No,” I whisper. “I didn’t…”
“The author ofThe Greatest True Myths of the 36th Centuryis Sean Cavalletti.” He nods, like he understands that I’ve already put the pieces together. But he tells me anyway, “An anagram for Etian Valcastle.”
My birth-given name. I knew the book held a strange familiarity, but I never would’ve imagined it was because they weremywords. Something I could’ve written, if given the chance.
He tucks the baby closer to his armored chest, the hologram flickering again. “We chose the auction that Stork attends, and we knew he wouldn’t pass up that title.”
Next to me, Stork lets out a soft breath.
“It’s safer separating her and the directions. Our greatest fear is that someone else will find her—but if you never reach Saltare-1, if you never locate the right orphanage, or if she moves herself and you never listen to this recording…”He takes a long pause. “She’s resilient… we’ve known that for some time. She’ll take care of herself.” He looks down. “At least, that’s what we’re going to tell ourselves.”
He glances back again. More crashes and yells and gunfire.
I don’t understand.
Something isn’t adding up in this overall picture. If we needed the baby for the purpose of cloaking and transporting to Earth, then…
“Why not just send her directly to Earth?” I ask aloud.
Stork shakes his head, unknowing, and Franny says, “Is someone behind him?” Pinging lights flood the hologram. Screaming, and then the banging of a door.
We watch an older version of Stork rush over to the older version of me. His snow-white hair is cut much shorter, and blood drips down his armor and stains his pale cheeks. He still wears his blue-jay earring, but there is a noticeable difference about Stork and it’s not old age.
“I lose an arm in the future,” Stork says matter-of-factly.
From bicep to his fingers, his arm is a bronze prosthetic. Made of the same lightweight metal as his breastplate. “Is it done?”
“Almost,” the older version of me replies. “Do we have ten minutes?”
“Five.” He glimpses at the baby and instantly chokes on a sob. “I’m so sorry.”
The future Court focuses on us. “You’re going to ask why we didn’t send her to Earth.”
