Page 42 of Sixth
Emmy fought to keep her eyes on her screen. She saw the second barrage fall. It walked across the night with terrifying grace. The ground below them answered in a bloom of fire. The luminous skin of the world went dark in a widening crescent that broke her heart tosee.
“He’s killing it,” she said. The words hurt her throat.
“Not all,” Apex said. “The core will endure.”
“But Lume!” Tears filled Emmy’s eyes. “I made her stay behind.”
Heat ran across the cabin like a physical thing. The ship bucked again. Something under the deck tore with a sound she would remember in her bones. She tasted copper and fear. Afine line of blood warmed her forearm where a shard had kissed her skin. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered except not dying.
“Apex—”
“Stay with me.” He reached across and covered her hand with his. His grip was hot and strong and steady. “Look at me. We will live. Do you understand me?”
She nodded because there was no air to speak with. She locked her eyes to his. The violent world fell back. The engines vibrated through his palm, the ship’s will under his will. For a breath she believed because hedid.
“Good,” he said. “Hold. We need to get lost in the debris so Vire does not see we have escaped the planet.”
They dove under the edge of a shock front and clawed up through a gap that didn’t exist until he made it exist. Pressurecrushed the breath out of her lungs. The ship screamed like a living thing and then the noise died. The view turned cold and star-salted and black.
Silence climbed back into the cabin by degrees. One alarm. Then none. The hum returned. The vibration eased from a snarl to a purr. Her hands shook when she let go of the chair.
She turned to the window. Echo Light hung below them, wounded and still beautiful. The dark crescent smoldered. The rest of the world had already begun to shine again in stubborn patches that spread outward like healingskin.
She let out a breath that tasted like relief and grief. “It’s still alive.”
Apex’s shoulders lowered a fraction. “As it should be.”
Tears filled her eyes. “But not Lume.”
A faint rustle came from beneath the navigation console, followed by a trembling glow. Emmy gasped as Lume appeared, wings dim but steady, her tiny face streaked with soot and tears of light.
The creature’s voice quivered with emotion. “Hurt. Fire hurt Echo Light.” Her tone broke, then softened into a whisper. “Sad… but with you now.” She hovered up and snuggled against Emmy’s shoulder, light spreading like warmth across her collar.
Emmy’s eyes filled as she cupped Lume carefully in her palms. “You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered.
Lume only shivered and murmured, “Home… here,” before curling closer, her glow faint but full of gentle peace.
Emmy held her for a long moment, then glanced toward Apex, who watched in silence, unreadable. The hum of the ship filled the pause between them. Outside, Echo Light shimmeredthrough the viewport like a bruised but breathing sky. Emmy brushed a tear away and exhaled slowly.
The soft rainbow light from Lume’s wings spilled over her hands, mingling the glow with the dim gold of the cabin until it seemed they were still half inside the planet’s light, half in the void between worlds.
An announcement broke the silence.“Council broadcast completes. Confirmed kill report transmitted. Lord Vettar and human consort are declared deceased.”
The sound of Core’s voice in that flat cadence should not have shaken her. It did. She laughed once. It sounded broken and wild. “They think we’re dead.”
“Good,” Apex said. “Let them plan for ghosts.”
She leaned back and closed her eyes, the ache settling into her muscles now that terror had moved on. The cut on her forearm burned. She looked down and realized blood had run to her wrist and marked the edge of the Valenmark with a thin line of bright red against the brilliant gold and white. The mark pulsed once. Heat bloomed in her palm and rose like a tide up herarm.
She wiped the blood away with the back of her hand. “What now?”
He didn’t answer at once. He watched the dark curve of the planet until its light had turned the edges of his hair blue. “Now I reclaim what is mine. Now I burn rot out of its seat.”
Her pulse jumped. She recognized the truth in him when he said it. He didn’t posture. He didn’t promise. He announced.
“You think you can take on the Council,” shesaid.
“I do not think. Iwill.”
