suddenly we were weightless, Raleigh! I looked out the window and thought: On this rock where we were all born, with its oceans and its seas and its muskrats and its pomelos and its diamonds and its viruses and its books and its dust as old as time—small quivering things packaged up their hope and their curiosity. They buried it in the bones of their girl children, precious and valuable as we are. They took our bodies and strapped them into ships they took twenty million years to learn to build. They tore pieces of our Earth from the deepest reaches and used it to safely bind our bodies in place. They melted the sands the waves beat on the shores so our small faces could be protected. They stole lightning from the skies so we could fly.
Eferhilde Watts
2010
In the quiet of all that space, everything mattered and nothing really did. The other girls were smart and we trusted one another, and as we were tossed back and forth in the fray it was good to know that we weren’t alone.
Ryann Bird
2028
19 YEARS
Ryann finished making her coffee and headed down to Communications. She slid into one of the terminals and booted up the receiver. She uploaded the reports about the health and well-being of her crewmates and sent the documents to SCOUT, like she did on the last day of every month.
Then she opened up her messages. She had a new form to be reviewed, which she transferred to her datapad to read in her room later.
There was another message, an audio one starred with *Urgent,* which was concerning, because the last time they’d all gotten a message starred as urgent they were being warned about potential weaknesses in the original ship design. It had been a harrowing issue, but engineering was resourceful and they’d made it past the problem without losing any lives. That was only three months ago though—easily enough time for the repairs to have failed—so Ryann’s heart was in her throat as she opened up the transmission.
I’m coming.
Ryann dropped her mug and it shattered on the Communications floor.
I don’t know if you’re okay or if you met anyone else up there, but I made a pinkie promise and you know how I feel about those. Sorry it’s been a while. School takes a long-ass time as you know … or, well, you don’t know, but I literally had to get a doctorate before NASA would draft me. Then, they only wanted people with engineering experience, so I had to get another doctorate.
Anyway. We’re faster now, at least three times as fast as the ship you’re on. So technically, if we did the math right—and holy shit do we need to make sure the math is right…, Alexandria whispered, slightly away from the microphone, I could be there in two, maybe three years?
As romantic as it would be, I’m not just coming to kiss your stupid face. We’re bringing supplies and raw materials to help update the ship. Then, if you’re not too dazzled by the stars and if you’re way more dazzled by my pretty face, we could … go home maybe? It would take another four years, but what’s four more years after all this? Ryann could hear the smile in Alexandria’s voice. She covered her face with her hands and cried.
I know we haven’t spoken since you passed Jupiter and I couldn’t catch your radio waves anymore, but I … still want to see you. So. Wait for me. I’m coming. Pinkie promise.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
There are many things I wish I hadn’t done. There are many places I wish I hadn’t gone, things I wish I hadn’t said, risks that weren’t worth the risk. Part of being a person is making choices, and part of making choices is taking responsibility for the results, if that choice turns out to be a mistake.
Ryann and Alexandria were born to inherit the mistakes of those that came before them. Most of us are.
But what we do with those mistakes—both our own and those we inherit—can mean the difference between prolonged suffering and the chance to grow beyond our circumstances.
Roland’s mistake was so large that it eclipsed the mistakes of nearly everyone in the book, and left everyone he touched in the darkness of the shadow of his failure.
Eferhilde’s choices left the ones she loved shivering and exposed, buffeted by strong winds of loss.
Raleigh’s emotional neglect made his home empty and cold, while he desperately craved warmth and connection.
Each of them pushed away regret, stretched their rejection of being wrong over years, holding so tightly to their pain that it became an inseparable part of them. Then when it was time to make peace, they had to be dragged toward it kicking and screaming—Roland by Alexandria, Raleigh by Ryann, and Eferhilde by the yawning void of eternity before her.
I filled The Weight Of The Stars with teenagers throttling their trauma instead of drowning in it because you deserve to see your peers being strong. I gave you:
James and his baby, whom he speaks to after months of silence.
Tomas, who beat addiction and self-loathing and stands proudly on the ashes of what was.
Blake, who loves and loves and loves in his own way, because he knows people need it.
Shannon, who saw the ghost of a rejected brother in the rejected kids at school and sat down beside them.
Ahmed, who knows that choosing loyalty is as serious as life and death.
Alexandria, who learned to hold people close instead of pushing them away.
And Ryann, my wildest child, who clenches joy and hope in each fist.
They are, all of them, running toward the sun.
Please look at them and know that you too can seize your failure by the neck and look it in the eyes. Know that you can gaze at the you that was and say, “I love you. You can be more than this.”
Know that you can step forward, even when everything in you is screaming to keep looking back.
You are evolving and growing.
You deserve to.
Love,
Kayla
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book is an ode to the amazing WLW community that turned out in droves to support The Wicker King; a tiny, strange book from a tiny, strange girl, produced by everyone on a huge leap of faith. I saw your fan works and your tears and saw you begging people to read me and was touched beyond belief. I built this sweetness for you. You all deserve good things. You all deserve happy endings.
Also by K. Ancrum
The Wicker King