“And then what?”

The weight of the loss of her allies seems to pull her shoulders down, and for a moment, the mayor looks lost.

But the hesitation lasts only for the blink of an eye. Then she turns her attention back to me and sniffs. “And then we do something about the mess that you are,” she retorts, glancing at what must be a mass of burns and dried blood on my back.

The mention of my injuries seems to suddenly remind me, and I wince as if on cue as the pain of it finally hits me. My back feels like it’s been set on fire.

“I’ve got a makeshift infirmary set up in the back courtyard,” she goes on. “Tend to yourself as needed. We’ll gather this evening to discuss our next steps.” She reaches up to touch my chin, and the motherly confidence of her gesture sends a pang through me for all the missing pieces of my family. “You may be a Skyhunter, if a broken one. But you still need to rest up and eat. Understand?”

“Understood, ma’am,” I respond.

“Ma’am,” she scoffs, releasing me. “I haven’t been called ma’am in a decade.” She nods toward the dining room, where the workers administer to Talin. “Go on. I know where you want to be.”

I head back into the room and hurry to the side of the table, where Talin still lies unconscious, breathing slowly. The lab worker who had first seen her is now injecting a white tonic into Talin’s arm. Talin’s mother calls for a basin of hot water, then presses a wet cloth to her daughter’s forehead and chest to warm her.

I take Talin’s hand and squeeze it. Through our bond, there’s still only silence—but the beat of her heart comes through. At least that sounds strong.

Talin, I say to her, even though I’m not sure how much she can hear. We’re all here. All of us.

I hesitate, pushing down the lump that rises in my throat.

And I love you, I add to her. She doesn’t stir. I love you.

34

TALIN

I love you. I love you.

I hear Red as if from a vast distance. I try to turn toward him, but everything in me feels made of steel.

Other voices are familiar too. Jeran. Aramin. And Adena—her rapid talk, her falling into her meticulous habits in times of stress. Everything in me yearns to wake up to see them. What is she so scared of right now? They are talking about me. I can hear my name on their tongues.

And suddenly I am on the warfront again, the memories hazy around me. I am a young Striker, newly anointed, and Corian and I are returning from an exhausting day patrolling the border. I am sitting around a fire, laughing with Adena and Jeran until tears stream down my cheeks. I am practicing with Aramin, who is showing me a complicated maneuver with my daggers. I am pointing at the stars with the others, all of us lying in a row, picking out constellations and wondering if the Early Ones had left to live there.