Page 121 of Last of Her Name

“Stacia?” says a soft voice.

I go absolutely still.

My body is numb to the soles of my feet. Everything around me seems to freeze.

With a sob rising in my throat, I whimper, “Mom?”

And there she is, her and Dad both, flanking Zhar. They’re encased in space suits, but that doesn’t stop me from lurching free of the soldiers and running to embrace them. My helmet clacks against Mom’s; behind her visor, she’s crying. Dad hugs me fiercely, and even he’s got moist eyes. My grizzly, stodgy old dad—I’ve never seen him cry before.

They look terrible. Even though all I can see are their faces, I can tell their bones are standing out, their figures gaunt. Mom’s limping, leaning on Dad, both of them carrying guns. They look like strangers, poor imitations of my parents. But they’re undeniably mine.

I’ve had to hold strong for months, keeping myself together like a beat-up dory patched with tape. But now I can finally release, can finally sit back and let them fix everything.

I don’t have to be strong anymore.

“Baby girl,” Dad murmurs. “We’ve missed yousomuch.”

Mom grips the shoulders of my space suit and studies my face. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Howare you here?”

“We slipped through the Union blockade around Amethyne a month ago. By the time we met up with Zhar, you’d already gone. Oh, my dear, why did you do that? You should have known we would never send you to anyone we didn’t trust.”

“Trust! You can’t trustZhar! She’s—” I realize I’m shouting, and lower my voice, gripping both their hands with my gloves. “She’s totally insane. She’s on some kind of revenge mission. SheshotPol.”

They exchange looks.

“Come with us,” I whisper. “We’ll get out of here together, you and me and Pol and Riyan. Please, Mom, Dad, if we hurry we can—”

Mom shushes me, still smiling and crying as she shakes her head. “My darling, my darling. We are so close. I promise, this will all be over soon.”

“Yes,” says Zhar, interrupting our reunion. “It will all be over soon.”

Even behind her visor, Zhar’s eyes practically glow with anger as she approaches me. I step to meet her.

“You’re a monster,” I hiss. “You’re as bad Volkov.”

“Am I?” Her voice is chilled. “What are you, then, Princess? Half my people died fighting when you called the Union down on us. You chose the wrong side.”

“The only side I chose was Cli—” I pause, gritting my teeth together. “Was the Prismata, and everyone you and Volkov would destroy.”

“Stacia,please,” Mom urges. “Trust us. We’re doing this for you.”

“We’re doing this for the Belt,” Zhar says. She presses a gloved hand to the window. The Prismata reflects on the front of her visor. “Pyotr would have wanted this. We, his most loyal of companions, securing his legacy. Wielding the power of the Prisms against his enemies.” She turns to us, eyes fervid. “This is how we take back the galaxy. This is how we put Anya Leonova on the throne. We will eliminate the usurper and all his kind.”

My father nods. “For Pyotr and Katarina, and the children.”

“Your family,” Mom adds to me. She squeezes me close. “Oh, Anya, I wish you could have known them. How strong they were, how inspiring. You carry that strength in you, and now you can finally claim your birthright. We are so proud of you.”

My joy at seeing my parents is starting to fade, as I realize how squarely in Zhar’s corner they stand. They still see the Leonov Empire as something good, something worth dying and killing for. My stomach sinks even as my mom holds me close. I was naive to think they would fix everything. I was naive to hope they could ever be just my parents again, as if the Teo and Elena who raised me are totally different people from the Teo and Elena who smuggled me out of the palace when I was a baby. Anya has always been their first priority.

“Mara told us you’d found the Firebird,” Zhar says impatiently. “Do you have it with you?”

I clamp my jaw shut. It’s childish; I might as well stamp my foot too, for all the good it’ll do, but I don’t want to make this easy for her.

Mara speaks up. “Commander, Anyaisthe Firebird. It’s a code in her DNA, passed down from the other Leonovs. I’ve seen it—she can control the Prisms with her mind or something. Apparently it’s what made them insane.”

My parents stare at me while I shoot Mara a dark look.