They stayed for dinner.
Marina insisted, and Doren didn’t have the heart to refuse her. She prepared a simple meal—root vegetables and grilled fish from the stream behind the cottage—while Emma helped set the table and Doren sat with Ari, watching the old woman move through her kitchen.
She was slower than he remembered. Careful in a way that spoke of joints that ached and muscles that tired easily. But she hummed as she worked, a melody he almost recognized from somewhere deep in his childhood.
“She’s remarkable,” Emma said quietly, settling into the chair beside him. “How long have you known her?”
“Fifteen years. Though most of that was correspondence, not visits.” He shifted Ari in his arms. “She saved my life, once. Gave me a purpose when I had nothing else.”
“The Vault.”
“The Vault.” He smiled, though it felt brittle. “She made it sound so romantic—lost civilizations, ancient technology, secrets waiting to be discovered. I was young enough to believe her. And by the time I was old enough to know better, it was already too late. The search had become part of who I was.”
Emma’s hand found his knee, squeezing gently. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?” He looked at her, really looked, taking in the warmth of her brown eyes and the softness of her features. “I’ve spent my whole life chasing a dream. Meanwhile, Marina spent her life collecting records in a cottage on a backwater planet. And now she’s giving it all to me, like it’s nothing.”
“Maybe it’s not nothing. Maybe it’s everything.” Emma’s thumb traced circles on his knee. “She found someone to carry on her work. Someone who cares as much as she did. That’s not giving up—it’s passing the torch.”
Before he could respond, Marina appeared with a tray of food. Her eyes moved between them, taking in their closeness with obvious approval.
“You’ve done well,” she said to Doren, setting the tray on the table. “Finding someone who looks at you like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re the most frustrating, wonderful thing she’s ever encountered.” Marina eased into her chair with a soft groan. “It’s a rare gift, being loved by someone who sees you clearly. Don’t waste it.”
Doren felt heat rise in his cheeks. He opened his mouth to deflect, to make some quip about not being lovable, but the words died in his throat. Because Emma was looking at him, and her expression said everything that needed to be said.
They ate in comfortable silence. Ari fell asleep in Doren’s arms, her small body a warm weight against his chest. Marina told stories about her early research, about the scholars and adventurers she’d known over the years, about the wonders she’d seen and the mysteries she’d never managed to solve.
It felt like a goodbye.
When the mealwas finished and the dishes were cleared, Marina walked them to the door. The lavender field had darkened to deep purple under the fading light, and the first stars were appearing in the sky.
“The Ashtar system is three weeks away, even with a fast ship,” she said. “You’ll pass through Confederation territory, which means checkpoints. Be careful what you say and who you trust.”
“I’m always careful.”
“You’re never careful. That’s why I like you.” She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek. Her palm was dry and cool, her touch impossibly gentle. “You were the best student I never had, Doren. Whatever happens next, know that I’m proud of you.”
Something lodged in his throat. He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Go,” Marina said softly. “Find the Vault. Change the galaxy. And then, when you’re done—” She glanced at Emma, at Ari sleeping in her arms. “—come back and tell me what it was like. Through whatever means you can.”
He understood what she was really saying. The weight of it pressed against his chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Marina—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. “Don’t say goodbye. I’ve never liked goodbyes. Just... go. Live. And remember me, when you can.”
She stepped back, her silhouette framed in the cottage doorway. The light behind her made her look almost translucent, a ghost of the woman she’d once been.
Doren turned away before he could do something embarrassing, like cry. Emma fell into step beside him, her free hand finding his.
They didn’t speak until they reached the ship.
TheVagabondfelt different somehow.Quieter. Emptier.
