“Iama stowaway,” he pointed out. Then he smirked,and it was cunning enough for me to absolutely not like the look of it as he crossed the distance between us. “Orhe thinks I’m here to steal his pretty little sister away.”
Pretty?A heat of anger flickered in my chest. “I’m a little more than that.”
“ObviouslyIknow that,” Sian replied. “I’m talking about your brother.”
“He knows that, too,” I replied flatly, and put a step between us as I backed away, and then another. “And if he comes around again, tell me. I’ll deal with him. Good night, Sian,” I added, and quickly turned around on my heel to escape back to my bedroom, but he caught my wrist.
I glanced back, confused and startled. For a brief, hopeful second, I thought he’d apologize. My eyes fell to his lips, and I wondered if they were soft. And then he opened his mouth.
“Theartifactis still with you, right?” he asked, dropping my hand just as surely as my heart dropped into my stomach like a stone. Oh. It wasn’t about me at all.
“It’s safe,” I assured, staring at the floor.
“Good. I think it’s safer there.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. My voice sounded distant. “I’ll keep it safe.”
He smiled, reassuring. “Thank you.”
I escaped the corridor then and closed my door behind me.
I waited until his footsteps retreated, my back pressed against the door, and then I slid to the ground in relief. The tension unwound from my body.
The overheard conversation with Val earlier, mixed with Sian’s sharp critique, began to eat at me from different directions. I felt so silly thinking he’d kiss me in the corridor,wantinghim to after our argument. How awful. How confusing.
I hated it.
My gaze traveled to the top drawer of my dresser, where the lightsaber was hidden. I had to remember that Sian was only here because I could do something for him. There wasn’t another reason. So of course he would be nice and flirt with me as long as I kept him, and this artifact, safe.
It would do me well to remember that.
Quietly, I went to the dresser and took out the lightsaber. The dim light of my room caught in the nicks and scrapes on it. The weapon looked so much older than anything I’d seen before. Whose was it? Where had it come from? Why did the First Order want it? How had Sian gotten it?
Whodiedfor it? How many people?
Even though I knew the stories, the whispered histories, it felt silly that something so small could be so important.
My thumb hovered over the button. I knew it didn’t work. I knew it wouldn’t light up for me. I’d already tried it. I already had my answer, but…
Maybe lightsabers had masters. Maybe they chose people who were worthy.
Or maybe they were like any other weapon—like blasters or knives or metal pipes. Anyone could use them, just as anyone could die by them.
I pressed the button, and it sank with a click.
Something inside fizzled. My heart tremored with hope. It could be mine, couldn’t it? It could choose me. I could be someone important, someone worthy of a story—
Maybe if I tried it again, it wouldn’t be broken anymore. (MaybeIwouldn’t be broken anymore.)
The barrel sparked with something yellow and bright—like a sunrise—but then it went dark again.
Or, a small voice in my head whispered,you simply aren’t important enough to wield it.
I put the saber back into its hiding spot in my dresser and covered it with my underwear before I curled up in bed. I lay awake for the next hour, listening to the thumps and groans of the ship, and wondered what it would be like, for once, to be important enough.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Nightmare
