Vy laid a washcloth over her eyes and instructed herself to banish stressful thoughts. Forget news. Forget consequences. Forget the trauma she’d absorbed thirdhand from Garrett’s stress-crazed mind via telepathy gas.

She inhaled the fragrance of essential oils and bath salts.

She slid deeper into the bathing pool, using her hair as a pillow. She had a lot of hair, and it was twisted into a loose knot. The water was warm and soothing.

The seventh day.

She tried to push that alarmed thought out of her mind. But everyone knew the significance. Thomas was gone.

Her foster brother was gone, possibly forever.

The zombie stock was depleted. The war council was a screaming mess of despair. It was painfully obvious that Ariock’s defensive tactics actually came from Thomas. Weptolyso and his forces were barely holding onto their territories. Ariock wouldn’t even enter a battle zone. Meanwhile, the Torth military never made the same mistake twice.

The entire galaxy knew that Thomas was missing.

People blamed Thomas for every loss, and he wasn’t here to defend himself. He wasn’t mitigating any of the disasters.

He was an alien.

A full-blooded Torth.

Vy still wanted time to process that. On one level, she knew that it didn’t—it shouldn’t—matter. Thomas would always be a member of her family. She had taken care of him, and lived with him, for years. His biological parentage did not erase their sibling relationship.

But she, of all people, knew that bad parents, even absentee parents, inflicted emotional damage on their children.

How many of her foster siblings woke from night terrors? How many of them dealt with phobias and depression and psychological disorders and scars? One of Thomas’s biological parents had abandoned him as a helpless infant in a freezing winter forest.

The other…

Vy had spent an actual moment inside a memory of the Somehow Nexus’s perspective. He’d genuinely believed that he had created an apocalypse-bringer. The Conqueror. His opinion about his own biological son, who was right in front of him, in telepathy range, was nothing short of monstrous.

And then an overwhelming blame-chant from the Majority had induced him to aim a blaster glove at his own head and thumb the trigger.

*! ( ) !*

Vy flinched.

It was such a visceral memory. She felt as if she had committed suicide herself, even though the mnemonic replay had been filtered through the Megacosm and Garrett’s mind. She had only experienced it thirdhand, through telepathy gas.

Thomas had felt that self-execution up close and personal.

He had actually listened to his biological father announce that his own son was a major Mistake, and then end his own life out of shame. That was enough to screw up anyone, Vy felt sure.

A knocking sound interrupted her thoughts.

Vy splashed upright. Someone was knocking on the front door of her suite. “Just a moment!” she yelled.

At times like this, she yearned for Yeresunsa powers. Her prosthetic was a wonderful gift—a miracle from Thomas, like so many of the things he had done—but it was still a process to put on. She toweled off her stump. Then there were straps, and cinching. She screwed the bionic leg into place.

“It’s me.” Ariock’s voice came from around the corner. He must have let himself into her suite, the way he did when invited.

“Oh.” Vy blushed. All her clothes were in the main living area, where Ariock was. “Okay. Just a minute. I’m naked.”

She hopped out of the bath and dried herself with a towel. Then she wrapped it around herself and padded around the corner, her wet hair loose and clinging to her back and arms.

Ariock politely averted his gaze.

Vy could tell that he wanted to glimpse her from his peripheral vision. His warring libido and politeness made her smile.

She twisted her hair to squeeze out the last drops of water.

Ariock cleared his throat and fully turned his back. “Uh, I’ll let you get dressed. Sorry to barge in. I didn’t know you were, uh, taking a bath.”

“You can stay.” Vy was glad that he didn’t use his powers for anything as frivolous and rude as spying on naked women. She went to her wardrobe. “I’ll be dressed in a moment.”

As she selected clothes, she considered reasons why Ariock might spontaneously visit. He might show up just for companionship. Sometimes, though, he showed up when he was mulling over a tough decision.

He looked exhausted. On top of all the ghosting he’d been doing, he was under massive political pressure. The war council demanded that he find Thomas, teleport the space fleet, bolster defenses, reconsider the penitent population, plus a million other things.

Instead, he was here.

“What’s up?” Vy pulled on yoga shorts.

“I can come back later,” Ariock offered, still facing the other way. He must see the shape of Vy vaguely reflected in the hammered gold wall decor.

She wriggled into a light tunic. “I’m dressed.”

Ariock cautiously turned around. When he saw that she was clothed, he looked relieved, and a little disappointed.

Vy used a pick to work snarls out of her damp hair. “Did you give up on trying to find the needle in the haystack?”

Ariock sat on the floor cushion; an item of furniture made just for him. He folded his long legs and slumped.

“I’m sorry.” Vy quit brushing her hair. “That came out like an accusation. That’s not what I meant. You’ve been doing more than enough. I think you’re smart to quit exhausting yourself.”

Dark skin under Ariock’s eyes proved that he needed to recuperate. Teleportation was the biggest drain a Yeresunsa could endure. Very few activities dented Ariock’s energy levels, but the one time he had nearly died from a depletion coma, it was because he’d been ghosting and teleporting too much.

“Right,” Ariock said, dejected. “There’s no way I can outwit a super-genius. It’s time to give up.”

Vy put down her hair pick and went to him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Armageddon has started,” Ariock said.

The first concern that popped into Vy’s mind was not safety for herself or Ariock. She thought of Thomas.

But soon she thought of everyone she’d ever known closely. Like her mother. Vy didn’t quite dare to ask if Earth was all right. Ariock would tell her, surely?

“We’re not in immediate danger,” Ariock said, seeing her unspoken fears. “Yet.”

Vy sat on Ariock’s lap and leaned her head against his chest, unmindful of making his tunic damp with her hair. Perhaps he wanted reassurance, but so did she.

“There’s a vicious battle at the temporal stream gateway,” Ariock said. “Right now.”

“In space?”

Ariock nodded. “It’s chaos. Some Torth camped out there, and Garrett decided to wipe them out. So he roped Evenjos into linking with him to boost his power. They got our space fleet involved. So yeah, now it’s a full-on space battle.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

That sounded dire.

“And it’s completely stupid!” Ariock thumped a fist on the floor, expressing frustration. “They’re so busy killing each other, they won’t notice if Thomas slips through. He can think faster than anyone and he’s more creative than a computer.”

“Isn’t it possible to blockade the gate?” Vy asked, wishing she understood more about how those wormholes worked.

“No one can see a temporal stream,” Ariock explained. “Or predict their exact location. They’re like…” He shrugged, possibly because he didn’t understand the wormholes, himself. “Garrett explained it to me. They’re like a rippling ribbon that doesn’t show up on sensor equipment in any useful way. There are multiple entry points that are in constant motion. Our galaxy itself is moving. That’s why entering temporal streams requires precise calculations.”

“Ah.” Vy imagined her foster brother in a cloaked streamship, hurtling faster than a bullet, towards some entry point along an invisible aurora, while avoiding space mines and warheads. “I guess if anyone could sneak past a war zone in space…” she admitted. “It would be him.”

“Exactly.” Ariock sagged. “I’ve spent most of this week out of my body, examining every space rock within a parsec of the stream. What makes anyone think we have a chance? He’s gone.” Ariock bowed his head. “He’s gone forever.”

“I don’t believe that.” Vy clung to Ariock, seeking strength. “I’m sure he’ll return.”

Ariock searched her face, no doubt looking for a reason to hope.

Vy thought of Azhdarchidae, perched atop the Dragon Tower. Waiting.

And Kessa, protecting the penitent slums with rotations of armed guards. And Varktezo, in charge of the research annex, where a lot of junior scientists expected their Teacher to return. Wouldn’t Thomas miss them?

He might even miss Cherise. He was a good person.

Vy trusted that about him, even if no one else did.

“I’m sure.” Vy made herself more comfortable in Ariock’s lap. “I know him. He’ll make things right.”

She had her own guesses about where her foster brother might go. Thomas used to appreciate day trips to alpine lakes and valleys. He had chosen a mountainous region in which to found Freedomland. He used to speak wistfully of retiring in remote meadowlands surrounded by mountains.

Hadn’t the planet Reject-81 had some gorgeous mountains?

No doubt there were other reject planets with similar landscapes.

“Well,” Ariock said, “we need him soon. Garrett is out there slaughtering Torth with power boosts from Evenjos, but they’re exhausting themselves in the process. Meanwhile? The Torth Empire is gearing up for something awful. They’re amassing an armada ready to enter the temporal stream network.”

“Oh.” Vy hugged Ariock tighter.

He hugged her gently. “I don’t know what they’ll target.”

He did not say that he felt overwhelmed, but he didn’t have to. Nor did he need to outline his fears. Without the Wisdom, were the heroes still on track to fulfill the prophecies of Ah Jun?

They were up against the Death Architect and other Torth masterminds. Heroes such as Ariock were vulnerable to insanity gas and other gaseous weapons. Weptolyso’s guerrilla soldiers might fend off Torth for a while, and Fayfer’s space fleet might kill a bunch of Torth as well. But without super-genius plans, they would eventually fail.

And once Freedomland fell?

So would Earth.

“There’s no way he’s gone forever,” Vy said, trying to force herself to believe it. “He’s probably just taking a vacation.”

“A vacation?” Ariock echoed in a deadpan tone, and Vy realized how absurd that sounded.

Thomas had left for good reasons. It wasn’t a whim. The whole city believed that he was biologically their enemy. He could no longer claim the privileges of being a human hybrid. Or a hero. Technically, he was no different from the cowering prisoners slated for zombification.

He might as well be one of those wretches.

And everyone knew it.

“A lot of people are screaming that his head belongs on a spike.” Vy hesitated, not wanting to imply that Ariock had missed something painfully obvious. “I know you’ve been mostly off planet. But I think Thomas needs a public image upgrade.”

That was a dreadful understatement.

Vy felt useless. She had tried, and failed, herself. In private, she had confronted Cherise. Her foster sister admitted that the undergrounder movement was out of control, but she couldn’t persuade Flen to stop preaching against rekvehs.

He was Premier Flen, now. His lack of respect for Thomas made Vy furious. But what could she do about it?

Her own failure was somehow too hard to confess to. She was the equivalent of a queen here in Freedomland. Why couldn’t she sway public opinion? Was she just not trying hard enough? Or smart enough?

Ariock leaned back on the extra-large beanbag cushion. “You know what?” he said.

“What?”

“It never occurred to me that Thomas would feel unsafe here.” Ariock looked embarrassed. “Until this week. I’m the worst friend ever.”

“No.” Vy nestled on top of Ariock, aware that he must be beating himself up on the inside.

“He’s so capable,” Ariock said. “He’s the smartest person in the universe. I just assumed…” He shook his head, disgusted with himself. “I assumed he has mental armor that’s a million times stronger than mine.”

Vy leaned against Ariock. “No one is stronger than you.”

But on the inside, she acknowledged that there were different kinds of strength. Not even Ariock could salvage Thomas’s reputation, it seemed. He had loudly proclaimed Thomas to be a hero, more than once. Those proclamations only exacerbated the divide between people who trusted the messiah and those who saw Ariock as the rekveh’s brainwashed mouthpiece.

“I didn’t think that bullies would faze him,” Ariock confessed. “He seemed to just shrug and dismiss them as a non-threat. In fact, he even told me not to hunt down the undergrounders, or imprison any of them.”

“Because every war hero is valuable,” Vy said with bitterness.

Some of the so-called war heroes held up placards showing Thomas’s bloodied, decapitated head. Like Flen. Were people like that really so crucial as to be above justice?

“When he said he was fine, I just assumed…” Ariock looked ashamed. “…That he was.”

Vy felt oddly guilty herself, as if she had personally driven Thomas away. She wondered why. She certainly hadn’t planted bombs or tried to murder him.

Was she blameless, though?

She and Ariock probably should not have witnessed the self-execution of Thomas’s biological father. That was an intensely personal traumatic shock. It wasn’t something that ought to be shared and re-shared with the entire galaxy.

Not that Thomas would complain.

He would just shrug and pretend like it was no big deal.

The way he did for just about every personal problem.

“Thomas is really good at giving the impression that he’s completely self-reliant,” Vy realized. “Even when he’s dying. He’s always been that way.”

Ariock massaged his forehead, like he wanted to rearrange some ideas inside his head. “It’s an act?”

“I don’t think it’s on purpose,” Vy said. “Maybe he’s fooling himself? But yeah, he pretends like he’s just fine even when he’s not.” She wished she had discussed Thomas in-depth with Ariock earlier. “I thought you knew that about him?”

“I should have,” Ariock said.

They sat in silence for a moment.

Ariock leaned all the way back, inviting Vy to lay on his chest. “Can I tell you something personal? Something I’ve never told anyone?”

Vy snuggled close. She rested her chin on her arms. “Please.”

Ariock hesitated. Vy didn’t pressure him. She let him gather his thoughts.

“I’m a lot like Thomas,” Ariock said. “I had a similar problem, even though it was much smaller scale. I avoided school because of the way people reacted to me.” He gestured to himself. “I never told you exactly what happened.”

“You told me people stared at you.” Clearly, he did not fear Vy’s stares. At least, not anymore.

“There was a group of boys,” Ariock said. “After school, they’d throw things at me. Trash. Things like that.”

Vy winced. “I’m sorry.”

“It happened two or three times,” Ariock said. “I pretended that it didn’t affect me.” He avoided her gaze. “I didn’t tell my mom, or anyone. I convinced myself that it was no big deal. See? I can’t even remember how many times it happened.”

Vy heard buried pain in his tone. She nearly asked him why he’d kept silent, but she wanted to let him explain at his own pace.

“The way they treated me…” Ariock paused, then seemed to force himself to go on. “They made it clear that I was a freak. And a target. They weren’t the only ones, of course, but they sort of paved the way. Other kids saw that it was all right to punish me for being different. So they went ahead. Before I knew it, everyone in the school figured it was all right to use me as their punching bag.”

“I’m sorry.” Vy could imagine smug classmates making rude remarks. All that negative attention must have been excruciating for him.

“That’s why I stopped going outside,” Ariock said. “Every incident where people stared at me became an instance where I was singled out. To me, being singled out meant I was a target.”

People would have done double-takes at young Ariock, staring at his gangly height combined with his prepubescent face. It must have happened not just in school, but anywhere in public.

“But it started with those bullies, throwing trash,” Ariock said. “It’s easy to pretend those little incidents don’t matter. But they really do. Those incidents erased all the potential I had. You remember who I used to be?”

Vy took a moment to remember Ariock the way he had been when she’d first met him. He had seemed afraid to move. He’d hidden in the shadows beneath a balcony, petrified of her.

“I could heal fatal illnesses,” Ariock said. “I could fly, and I could control the weather. But I would have been stunned to learn any of that. I didn’t believe I was anyone special.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “I would have shriveled up and died like that, if the Torth hadn’t ripped me out of my safe place.”

Torth cruelty and slave legends had transformed Ariock into the Bringer of Hope.

But human bullies had transformed Ariock into the reverse of that. They had wiped out his potential.

When worshipers said that Ariock was their messiah, he had become that. But when bullies said that Ariock was a loser freak? He had become that.

Vy thought of Thomas. He had begun to seem like … well … like what the bullies accused him of being. Emotionless. Withdrawn. Cold. Dangerous.

“So I get why Thomas pretended the bullies are nothing,” Ariock said. “It’s easy to accept praise, but admitting that mere words are deeply wounding? I’m not even strong enough to admit that. It’s humiliating.” He swallowed. “During the one telepathy class I attended, the other students were shocked to learn that the Bringer of Hope used to feel bullied. People can’t imagine it because I never talk about it. It’s too shameful.”

Vy wrapped her arms around Ariock’s shoulders. She couldn’t reach all the way around him, but she wanted to let him know that she admired who was, even with his vulnerabilities.

Especially with his vulnerabilities.

“Thomas has been enduring the equivalent of kids throwing trash at him,” Ariock said.

“Assassins throwing bombs,” Vy said.

And that was no small thing. They never should have ignored the problem.

“And where have I been, while he dealt with that?” Ariock said mournfully.

“Well, to be fair,” Vy said, “you’ve been busy liberating the galaxy from slavery.”

“Thomas did that,” Ariock said. “He planned every successful battle. It’s obvious to everyone on the war council. Anyone in the military can see it.”

Vy wasn’t sure she entirely agreed with Ariock’s dark self-assessment.

Ariock wrapped his big hands around her waist. He smoothed her tunic, tracing her contours. “I think I need to quit hiding.”

Vy sat up on Ariock’s torso, straddling him. “What are you going to do?”

“What do heroes do?” Ariock said. “They stand up for the meek. They protect deserving people who can’t or who won’t defend themselves.”

Vy liked the sound of that.

“It’s time for me to be a hero,” Ariock said. “For real.”