Despite Ysira’s best efforts to control her face, her eyebrows shot up.
“I know,” Jacen said. “I was there.” He frowned. “Was he right?”
“I thought surely he couldn’t be,” said Saraida. “Surelynot. But I confronted my grandmother about it, and . . . she confessed. She had a deal with the Church. Telepaths were non-negotiable, but otherwise, she could spare—or condemn—whoever she wished.” Her mouth twisted. “I don’t know if she condemned my father, but neither did she see fit to spare him. Once I knew that, I couldn’t be complicit any longer. I helped Ged seize control of my family’s resources and win over enough of the Guard for his coup to stand a chance. He wouldn’t have succeeded without me.”
For whatever reason, Saraida was almost pleading. It unnerved Ysira, but what could she do besides listen? Jacen, too, remained rooted in place.
“When I learned what Ged had planned for Neri, I didn’t believe it. But now I’veseenit. And everything has changed.” Saraida’s voice trembled. “I was a coward. Neri’s courage was my catalyst, and now he’s also the one who can end this. It’s—” She had to stop. “How can I see that as anything but destiny?”
Saraida had always been principled in a way that infuriated Ysira—the confident moral righteousness of someone who’d never had to bleed for anything. Saraida had never known a world without a place for her, and so of course she believed in destiny. That sense of unassailable conviction remained, but any trace of condescension had vanished.
Saraida drew her sword and held it out as though in offering. She knelt before Ysira. She bowed her head.
“My resources are many,” she said, “and they are yours.” She looked up as Ysira stared in mute shock. “I still call you friend.Sister.I believe that your son will bring justice and save this world. It will be my great honor to serve him.”
Sister.Saraida had never before used that word. How many years had Ysira spent longing to be seen as her equal? Yet this felt like the end of something. Like the person in front of Ysira—kneeling—was not Saraida at all but a diminished facsimile wearing her skin.
But what was Ysira to do? Tell Saraida to get a grip? Tell her, and Jacen, and Hesaya, and all the othersNo, never mind; it really isGedyou should swear yourselves to? Was she to Tell them about her every doubt and regret, about Eneva’s last words—It’s not what we remember—or about the butchered spider?
Ysira’s head spun. Her knees threatened to buckle. Suddenly, she had an inkling of what Neri must have felt that night in the desert when she’d told him the truth of who she was and what he might become. When he asked her if she wanted this and she had told himyes.
Since she and Neri had escaped the station, Ysira had been building momentum, racing forward with the single-minded determination that had always kept her alive. Now it was as if she’d jerked to a stop, arms wheeling, before a chasm as wide and deep as the Scar itself.
She looked to Jacen for any sign of an outstretched hand that might keep them all from toppling into the abyss. But his eyes were on Saraida, and he was asking her to stand. He clasped her hand in his. A tear ran down her cheek.
From somewhere far away, Ysira heard Jacen say, “Thank you.Var Naxalthanks you. He will honor you in the world to come.”
Ysira found Neri at the railway station, at the very edge of the militia’s perimeter. The tunnel leading out past the waterfall had been collapsed, lending the area a darker, claustrophobic quality. Neri stood alone, facing down the battered ancient vehicle as though it were an armed opponent.
As Ysira approached, he gave no indication of noticing. A globe of red light rotated over his palm. He threw it at the vehicle, causing it to teeter sideways.
Ysira stopped at what she felt, for the time being, was a safe distance. Neri hurled another globe of energy, and this time, the vehicle tipped off the tracks and landed on its side with an echoing crash.It was a conscious, controlled display of power, far more than he’d been capable of before.
It still seemed to exhaust him. He braced his hands against his knees, refusing to look at her. “What do you want?”
“You’re angry with me.” Ysira folded her hands behind her back so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “You’re right to be. I want to apologize.” Neri faced her, breathing hard. “I need to practice. I can’t freeze again. If you hadn’t acted, with Seth, I don’t know what I would have done—if I’d have just let—” He couldn’t finish. “You and Father were both right. I was worthless. Defective.” Ysira’s voice broke. “Neri, I’m so sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I figured it out.” Neri struggled to steady himself. “When I was afraid, before, Naxal took over. I wasn’t afraid this time. And . . . it listened.”
Ysira started to ask him what changed, but she already knew. She’d told him herself as they journeyed to Otavok.Use your anger. Bury the fear.Fear was surrender, inertia; rage was momentum. Her stomach clenched.
Then he asked, “Did you ever want me?” The question must have been festering inside him, and now it exploded to the surface. “Did either of you?”
Of course, this was about more than what Ysira had said to him—this was about what she’d said toGed.Now Neri knew, definitively, that there was no love at all between his parents. He could no longer pretend their relationship had been anything other than what it was.
“I know you probably didn’t have a choice when you left. I’m not stupid. But did you ever—” He stopped. “I did the math. You said you were gone for four cycles after the Harvest. Knight candidate graduation is always one cycle before that. Did you want me, or was it just too late by the time you knew?”
The answer should have been easy.Of course. Of course I wanted you.But it would have been a lie, and it stuck in Ysira’s throat. The truth was that she did not know. She could love him so much, it caused her physical pain, a rock lodged inside her heart, and still she would never know, because the Harvest had robbed her of the chance to figure it out.
Neri wiped his eyes, angrily, desperately trying to pretend her silence did not affect him. “I don’t think Father really wanted Damir or Casandra, either.” He laughed—an awful sound. “Look at us. The cripple god and his mother who didn’t want him. It’s such a joke.”
He nodded at the ground, as though sealing an agreement with himself. He faced the tracks and the toppled vehicle once more.
Light built between his hands until Ysira felt its feverish heat, and the platform trembled. Reality itself seemed a mere sheaf of fabric. Neri drew energy through from the other side as if it were water, faster and faster until seams began to split. Too much. Too fast. The air rippled, sparked—andtore.
The vehicle crumpled. Neri clenched his fist. His veins glowed bright, snaking out like dozens of worms beneath his skin. His sclerae drowned in red. Metal shrieked and crunchedinward, caught beneath a force of impossible gravity, collapsing until it vanished entirely.
Ysira stared, transfixed, as Neri released his grip on the Source. The gap in the universe winked shut. The red glow subsided, leaving spidery dark stains on his brown face, as though he’d been scorched from within.
