Sometimes I see Aramin and Jeran outside the window, wandering the courtyard outside the hospital restlessly, their heads together as they talk. At one point, late in the evening, I see Aramin take Jeran’s hands in his and bring him close for a kiss. My hand tightens around Talin’s.

At some point, I fall asleep beside her. In my dream, I am again walking down the bright, narrow tunnel toward the end, where I see Talin waiting for me. But I walk and walk and walk, and the tunnel goes on and on and on, and I never reach her. Somewhere down there, I can hear the faint steadiness of her breathing. She’s still there. But she doesn’t answer.

I wonder if I will continue to walk in this dream forever. As I go, I remember the way she extended her hand to me in the Striker arena, then the way she reached for me on the battlefield. She had come to my rescue the first time we’d failed to escape the lab complex.

Talin, I say, calling her name over and over through our link, listening for her response.

I wait. The day changes again. Night becomes morning becomes night. Our friends rotate in and out of the room. Talin’s mother sleeps, exhausted, nearby. Outside the window, the chants continue. I drift in and out of my own dreams, and in every dream, I walk down the tunnel and call Talin’s name.

I call and call and call.

Then, finally, on the morning of the fourth day, I call for her. Talin, I say through our bond.

And I stir awake to see her eyes open, clear and vibrant, staring directly at me. She smiles faintly.

Hello, Red, she answers.

43

TALIN

Steelstriker.

That’s what Red says they’ve been calling me in the streets. The Striker from Mara, turned into a Skyhunter, reinforced by steel in her bones. A warrior. A savior. A human who is not human.

By now, the news that I was the one who plunged a dagger into Constantine’s heart has spread: one of the Premier’s own Skyhunters, freed of her bonds, turned on him and ended the Tyrus rule in a single blow. The corners of the Federation—Tanapeg and Carreal and others—have already frayed in response to the Premier’s death. I’ve heard another territory is now claiming itself as independent.

At night, I can hear chants of my name rise and fall in the streets outside. I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or awake when I hear them.

Empire breaker. Steelstriker. Skyhunter.

Another name to add to my list.

It’s a strange feeling, knowing that Constantine is no longer on the other end of my mind. There is no one to tell me that my mother’s life depends on what I do. She is here, beside me. So is Red and Jeran and Adena and Aramin. They rotate in and out of my room at such regular intervals that I quickly begin to anticipate their arrivals, my heart quickening in a different way as each hour brings a different friend to my side.