TheVagabond’ssystems flickered.
And then the ship moved.
It wasn’t anything Doren did. The controls went strange under his hands, responding to commands he hadn’t given. The engines surged with power they shouldn’t have possessed—ancient systems that Rjmar had told him were decorative, non-functional, holdovers from the ship’s mysterious past before it had been stripped and rebuilt a dozen times.
Not decorative, Doren realized with a flash of understanding. Dormant. Waiting for an Aurelian to wake them up.
TheVagabondleapt forward with acceleration that should have liquefied everyone aboard. It didn’t—some kind of inertial dampening that hadn’t been there before. The stars stretched into lines.
They hit hyperspace without needing to reach safe distance.
Behind them, the Grorn ship vanished, left behind in a reality that suddenly seemed very far away.
Silence.
The hyperspace tunnel swirled around them, blue and silver and impossibly beautiful. Doren sat frozen at the controls, his hands still gripping levers that no longer responded to his input.
“What just happened?” Emma’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Doren couldn’t answer. Couldn’t do anything except stare at the baby in Emma’s arms—the baby who had just accessed Precursor technology through a ship that shouldn’t have any, who had somehow known exactly what to do, who had saved them with abilities that defied everything he thought he understood.
Ari yawned, her small face scrunching up adorably, and then she was asleep.
“She...” Emma looked down at her, then up at Doren. “She did that?”
“Yeah.” His voice came out rough, scraped raw by emotion he couldn’t name. “She did that.”
The cockpit lights returned to normal as the ship’s systems stabilized, the borrowed power fading back into dormancy. Whatever ancient mechanisms Ari had awakened, they were resting again, waiting for the next time they were needed.
Doren finally released the controls. His hands were shaking.
“We need to talk,” he said.
He setthe autopilot and led Emma to the main cabin, helping her settle into the cushioned bench with Ari still sleeping in her arms. Then he paced, unable to keep still, his tail twitching with agitation.
“That was too close.” The words felt inadequate. “Way too close. If Ari hadn’t—if the waystation hadn’t?—”
“I know.”
“They knew we were coming, Emma. They were waiting for us. The Grorn have figured out what we’re doing, where we’re going. Every waystation we visit, every step we take towards finding the other Keys—they’ll be there. And next time we might not have ancient defense systems to bail us out.”
“I know.” Emma’s voice was calm, steady, the same tone she probably used with frightened children. “What are you saying?”
He stopped pacing and turned to face her. “I’m saying this has to end. No more waystations. No more searching for Keys. We stop trying to do this on our own and ask for help.”
“Help for what?”
“Help to keep you alive!” The words exploded out of him. “To keep Ari alive. That’s all that matters now. Not the Vault, not the technology inside it, not any of the things I’ve spent my whole life chasing. Just... you. Both of you.”
She was quiet for a long moment. Ari shifted in her arms, making a soft sound that might have been agreement or might have been nothing.
“You don’t mean that,” she finally said.
“I do.”
“No.” She shook her head slowly. “You mean it right now, in this moment, because you’re scared. But tomorrow, or next week, or next month, you’ll start thinking about everything we learned. About the other Keys, and the other species who might be indanger just like Ari. About the Grorn and what they’ll do if they find the Vault first.” She met his eyes. “And you’ll hate yourself for giving up.”
His chest ached. “I can’t lose you.”
