edges. The stone is perfectly smooth, beautiful patterns woven by the layers of sedimentary rock we’re cutting through. My enviro-suit warns me the temperature is falling, gravity decreasing, our speed climbing. I look at Auri, a little worried, but she seems totally in control, determination written in the lines of her face.
The walls change from rock to rainbow-colored crystal. The temperature outside our suits is now a hundred below. I can hear my heart thumping against my ribs, and the tunnel stretches on so long and empty all around us as we float downward into the core of this dead world that I’m almost about to say something, I’m almost about to speak when—
“Great Maker … ,” Finian breathes.
Before us, the tunnel opens out into a massive chamber. A giant hollow space, carved far beneath the surface of the Eshvaren world, blanketed with the dust of a million years. I can see bizarre structures made out of the same crystal that lines the walls, their purpose totally unknowable. The sense of space in here, the utter alienness, is almost frightening. Each of us looks around in awe and wonder at those impossible shapes, glimmering and shifting in Aurora’s light.
“What is this place?” I whisper.
“A … workshop?” Finian breathes.
“A weapons factory,” Zila says.
We fly on toward the center, between the alien machines, the sense of excitement in my chest building. All the time we’ve spent, all the loss we’ve suffered, it’s all going to be worth it. I can see it in front of us now: a massive scaffold rising out of the darkness. I can feel Aurora’s elation spilling into me, the thrill of this discovery, the thought that despite the enemy we’re pitting ourselves against, this war can be won, the Ra’haam can be beaten, because this girl beside me, this tiny powerhouse thrumming with midnight-blue energy, is the Trigger, and now at last …
… we have the Weapon.
We reach the crystal scaffold. Tall as skyscrapers. Wide as a city. My eyes straining as I peer into the dark beyond, looking for the key to everything.
“Um … ,” Finian says.
“Yeah …” I frown. “Um.”
“Oh no,” Aurora whispers.
“Be’shmai?” Kal murmurs.
“No, no, no …”
We all look to Auri, to her face, and it doesn’t take a Legion-trained diplomat to know that something is horribly wrong. We soar on into the dark, weaving through the scaffold, crystal shimmering around us. But it’s obvious that this scaffold was built to hold something. And, as alien as it is, we can all of us tell that it’s empty.
As I see the tears begin to spill down Auri’s cheeks, as I see her face crumple, feel the air around us ripple with her power as her frustration, her horror, her despair comes bubbling to the surface, I know the awful truth.
“It’s not here,” I whisper.
I look to Finian, to Zila, to Kal, and finally, to Aurora.
My heart sinks in my chest as she speaks.
“The Weapon’s gone… .”
· · · · ·
We head back to the Zero. And from there, back into the Fold.
We don’t know what else to do.
I wish Tyler were here. I wish it so badly, it’s like a knife in my ribs. We shared a womb together, he and I, we shared everything, and to find ourselves without him, leaderless, rudderless, reminds us all just how badly we need him. We stand on the Zero’s bridge, the colorscape once more reduced to black and white.
Aurora is pacing back and forth, wearing the darkest scowl I’ve ever seen. Kal stands to one side, brow creased in thought. Fin sits opposite me at the central station, trawling the news feeds, Zila atop the console, chewing a lock of dark hair.
“How could it be gone?” I ask. “How is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” Auri replies, voice trembling.
Finian shakes his head. “Crossing into the anomaly would’ve destroyed any normal ship. And to even know where it was … they’d had to have found a probe.”
“Or been told of the location by the Ancients,” Kal replies.
The answer is obvious.
“Another Trigger,” Zila says.
Auri purses her lips. “The Eshvaren said there might have been others before me. The Echo resets when someone leaves it, and this plan has been in place for a million years. But they also said that whoever came before me must have failed, because the Ra’haam is still alive.”
She shakes her head, the air about her rippling with her frustration.
“I don’t get it.”
Finian starts spitballing. “Maybe this other Trigger completed their training, claimed the Weapon,