It doesn’t feel that long ago that I sat atop my horse looking down at two young men by a loch at the Institute. There was Cassius, as distracting a man as has ever been made, but he was so used to drawing all eyes to him that he needed to be witnessed to spark.
Then there was the other man. The dark one. Not in features, but dark in his energy. There was a man who needed no witnesses to burn. His energy was igneous and parthenogenetic, fire reproduced of itself. At first glance, I knew he was a powerful being with no manners, no airs, no grace, only a direction—one that ran straight through me. It wasn’t love that he awoke in me. It was fear. But that is a part of love.
It took time for me to see the sensitive being hidden behind his iron walls. It takes no time today. I don’t even see what his trials have done to him. Those are details. I see his energy. It is not as dark as I remember. His eyes are soft, yearning, and do all but reach out across the void and embrace me.
“Lo, Mustang.”
His masculine voice stirs up the silt of love, and the part of me that’s been dormant since he left awakens. “Lo, Reaper,” I whisper.
Still, a shield lies between us, held by both parties. Either of us could be a program, an enemy ruse.
“Our boy?”he asks before our prearranged test. I find that touching. He couldn’t wait.
“Alive,” I say.
He looks down, overwhelmed with emotion.“When was he made? Confirm.”
“After your first Rain,” I answer along with a numerical code. “What was waiting for us after our fun? Confirm.”
He gives a code in return and smiles at the memory.“Applause, innuendo, breakfast, bacon, and friends.”
“Applause? You wish.” I force a laugh.
ItisDarrow. I feel out of my body. Unable to find the words. “Where are you?”
I sound so young. So fragile.
“With Cassius and Sevro on theArchimedes.”
“Alive. Kavax too. And your mother. And your friends made it home. Char, Screw, Thraxa, Harnassus.”
Each name is a joy to him.“I’m days out from home at full torch. We can see Phobos on our scopes. How bad is it?”
“You’re not running full torch, are you?” I ask.
“No. We’ve come this far…but we can if we need to. Virginia, how bad is it? All we can see are debris. Did they make landfall on the planet?”
“No. No landfall.”
“Did we lose Phobos?”
“Yes. We’ve only just completed the evacuation.”
His frown is like one you’d see on a statue outside a military academy, a commander surveying the enemy formation and thinking, thinking.“But there’s no energy wash.No shooting.”
I was so angry at his departure I’d nearly forgotten how comforting he is as a confidant. No judgment, no bullshit, just boundless competency. Some people shirk problems. Some fumble them or pull at them like Gordian knots. Darrow asks questions, finds the nerve center, and then drives a spear into it. His only true strategic fault is that very same unwavering aggression.
I don’t soften the truth.
“I surrendered the moon to Lune in exchange for a peaceful transfer.”
“When?”
“Five days ago. It took time.”
“If only we hadn’t taken the ecliptic plane back to Mars…”He sags his head.
The comment is so flagrantly vain it makes me furious at him. It breaks the spell his appearance cast over me. He’d what? Wave his hands and send a plague of boils on the enemy, a wave of floods to wash them out of the sectors?
