He looks at her, then me, and gives a sad shake of his head.
“Save her!” I yell, my voice overtaking the moans of the injured and dying.
“Son, please.” She turns toward me as if she can still see. “There’s nothing he can do. Onin, go. Save as many as you can.”
“I’m so sorry, Kyte.” And then he’s gone, in the thick of the badly wounded.
“My son. My beloved. It’s time for you to lead our people and the fleet. Take your place on the council.”
“I’m not council material.”
“Maybe not now. But you will be. On the other side of this war.” She coughs, and the agony in my mind doubles until she settles down again. “You aren’t only my son, but the son of Latrides. This darkness is just beginning. Soon, it will cover entire worlds and bring untold suffering to the galaxies. Only you and your circle can stand against it. With the fleet at your command, you can win this war and save our people.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head. “I can’t lose you.”
“You can.” Her breaths are labored, her chest barely moving.
Keeping one hand in hers, I reach up and stroke her singed hair, some of it still golden despite the blackened ends. “Please, mother. Fight. For me.”
“I did.” She sighs. “Bartanz wanted to claim your Omega. I didn’t approve. The council wanted to break apart your circle because of your Omega’s history. I refused. Because I know you can keep the circle from falling apart. You are the conscience of it, one of the hearts that keeps it strong. With it, you can save so many lives.”
I press my forehead to hers. “I only want to save yours,” I whisper.
“I wish it were so, but the Pillars have decided otherwise.” Her breath turns even more wheezy, and I can almost feel the damage in her lungs, taste the char along her throat, and feel the slow death creeping through her veins. “Youmustprotect your Omega. If the Sentients find her, the fate of—” Her cough sends an echo so painful that blackness dances at the edges of my vision.
Panic engulfs me. I can’t let her go. “No.” I try again to heal her, but my head starts to swim, and I lose my grip of her hand.
Again, Jeren is with me, my brother silently giving me what I need.
“Mother, please. I don’t know what to do.” My voice breaks on a sob. “I don’t know what to do.”
Another hand touches my back, then another. Lana and Ceredes are with me, all of us resonating with each other, sharing my grief like a burden that we all lift together.
“You will.” She turns, angling her head toward Lana. “The Sentients know who you are. Who your parents are. They won’t stop coming for you. Watch out for Bartanz. He’s dangerous.” She coughs again, and I feel her hearts slow.
“My parents?” Lana’s voice trembles. “Bartanz?”
I’m not ready. What do I do? What can I do?
“Tell her,” Jeren urges.
“Please don’t go,” I say like a child, like a silly golden boy who always believes his mother will be there to catch him, to ignore his mistakes, and dote on his willfulness. But she won’t. She’s fading right in front of me, and I can’t save her. “Mother, I love you.”
“I know that.” She squeezes my hand so lightly I almost miss it. “I love you more than anything in the galaxies, and I always will. I will see you again. In the stars. In the mists of the Ghost Planet.” She almost smiles, her cracked lips twitching. “In the eyes of my grandchildren.”
I can’t accept this, can’t let her go. “I need you.”
She rests back on her pillow, her pain lessening by the second. “You have all you need, my darling. Your circle. They will watch over you for me, won’t you?”
“With my life,” Ceredes intones.
“And mine,” Lana says.
“Mine, too.” Jeren squeezes my shoulder again.
“See?” She takes in a deep breath. All the pain is gone now. No more thundering agony in my head. It’s numb. She’s numb. And I’m terrified.
“Don’t fear. You will save us. You are chosen by the Pillars, the circle that will end all wars and bring peace. May the circle never bre—” Her breath leaves in a rattle, and she doesn’t take another.
