Page 11 of Storm of Stars
“We promise,” Briar and I whispered together, though the words tasted bitter in my mouth.
She embraced us both then, fierce and trembling and so heartbreakingly human. I buried my face in the worn fabric of her coat, breathing in the scent of her, rosemary, woodsmoke, something wild and untamable.
“It’s not enough to just survive, my loves. You need to live for something.”
Then the door flew open with a violent crack, light and noise spilling inside like a tidal wave. And my mother stood, squaring her shoulders, facing them down like a warrior made of fire and shadows.
And she didn’t look back.
I bit my lip to force the memories back and let my fingers fly, stringing together commands, bypassing dead ends, watching as the screen flickered when I hit the correct sequence. Faster. Faster. I pushed down the rising panic, the sound of the alarm like nails dragging down my spine.
I hit the final key.
For one agonizing heartbeat… nothing.
Then the red lights in my cell flickered, stuttered, and snapped to stark, sterile white. The bars in front of me groaned and slid open.
I didn’t celebrate. Didn’t even smile. I just bolted. Sprinting out into the circular chamber beyond where the other contestants still worked in their cells, faces illuminated by the sickly glow of their terminals. Eight cells. Eight Challengers. And only seven spots beside me left.
I didn't care about the victory. Didn’t care that I’d made it through. My eyes weren’t on the scoreboard. They were on the faces of the people I loved.
Because if Bex or Ezra didn’t make it, if Praxis took one of them here, I wasn’t sure any of us could crawl our way back from that.
I felt Zaffir beside me, the quiet hum of his camera whirring as its lens stayed locked on me. I flicked him a look, sharp and fleeting, the kind of glance no one else would ever catch but us. A message in a fraction of a second.
Then the clang of a cell door snapping open cut through the thick air.
Another Challenger. Then another.
I didn’t need to look to know which Collectives they were from. Shocker, they’d all be from ones that’d won the tech trial in the last decade.
My stomach twisted as my gaze snapped toward the still-closed cells where Ezra and Bex worked. I could see them through the bars, both hunched over their terminals. Ezra’s brow furrowed, his lips moving with each string of code, fingers stumbling now and then. Bex’s face was tighter, her jaw set like stone, but panic flickered in her eyes. The kind she couldn’t hide.
Fuck.
Another heavy clang, and Briar burst from her cell, her dark hair damp with sweat, eyes wild as they darted across the room. I knew she’d be able to do it, but relief hit me nonetheless as I reached for her hand and squeezed once.
“How do you think they’re doing?” she asked, breath ragged, her voice low but sharp.
Ezra slammed his fist down on the desk in his cell and let out a guttural sound of frustration.
I swallowed hard. “Not good.”
Another door slid open.
Five now. Five of us safe. All of them from Collectives with the luxury of screens in their homes. If I wasn’t so goddamn terrified for the people I loved, I’d be shouting about theinjustice, the impossible weight stacked against them. Praxis didn’t even bother pretending this was fair.
My eyes snapped back to Bex and Ezra. Their fingers moved fast, but I could see the strain, the desperation in the way their shoulders tensed, in the way their eyes scanned the screens as if willing the code to make sense. If Bex had ever seen code like this before, she’d have it memorized, and would've been able to recite it perfectly. But brilliance meant nothing when the language was foreign.
Another heavy groan of metal. Six.
Only two spots left. With three of them still in there.
My pulse pounded so hard it was all I could hear.
“Fenly Nots, Stormwatch,” Briar whispered, leaning closer to me, her voice just a breath against the roar in my ears. “They haven’t won a tech trial in years. He’s in the same boat as Bex and Ezra. It’s not over.”
I nodded, but the movement felt distant, like it belonged to someone else. I wasn’t in my body anymore. I was floating somewhere outside it, caught between hope and horror.
