Page 65 of Last of Her Name

My mouth hangs open, my eyes fixed on the shining black sphere in front of us. Perfectly round and impossibly smooth, the massive stress field is the color of obsidian. It blots out the stars, like a void suspended in the sky. I’ve seen something like it before—every time Riyan tessellates and the air warps at his command, folding like paper. But this is a thousand times bigger, an orb of condensed space-time, where gravity is shaped and stretched and turned against itself. The sight is enough to liquefy every ounce of courage I had.

I think of Riyan’s warning about what can happen when a tensor loses control and try to ignore the anxious knot of unease in my stomach.

“The moon is … behind that?” Mara asks.

Riyan nods. “Think of the wall as a sort of gravity shell. And Diamin is hidden inside.”

I look at the tensor. “We’re goingintothat thing?”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” he murmurs, “I’ll get you through in one piece.”

He closes his eyes and rests his hands on his knees, palms up. At first it looks like he’s not doing much at all. But I notice sweat start to form on his skin. The muscles in his neck and arms tighten. His relaxed fingers start to curl, as if he’s pulling against some unseen force. Like poisoned veins, dark lines spread from his eyes. When his forearms begin to shake, I feel a cold lump of fear.

What if it doesn’t work?

The massive stress field in front of us grows larger, and the closer we get, the harder I grip the arms of my chair. I can barely draw a breath for the terror clogging my throat.

“Look,” Mara whispers, glancing at the cup of coffee on the board in front of her.

The liquid inside is starting to toss.

She and I lock gazes, and then I feel it—the trembling of the ship as it begins to accelerate. But the engine is idling and the thrusters are off. We’re not propelling ourselves.

The wall is sucking us in.

Swallowing, I press myself against my seat. Pol catches my eye and shakes his head, probably still thinking this was a bad idea. Maybe he’s right.

Harder and harder the ship rattles. Riyan is sweating and straining in silence, his hands now in fists, the tendons in his wrists like taut cables. His entire frame is rigid, and I can see his pulse hammering in his temple. From ear to ear, his face is masked in black, as if he smeared soot over his skin.

A spine-tingling crunch sounds around us, and I watch in horror as the walls begin to buckle. It looks like some invisible space giant has grabbed the clipper and is slowly squeezing it. The sound gets louder: crunching, grinding, groaning. Mara lets out a soft, frightened cry, and Pol’s hand leaps to mine, his fingers tightening.

“He’s going to get us killed,” he says.

For once, I agree with him. But there’s no going back now. The pull of the wall is so strong I’m not sure we could escape it even if we tried. The closer we get, the more I realize it’s not as smooth as it appears. The wall bristles with static electricity—forking, bursting webs of light. I’d expected a solid wall, but it’s more like a storm trapped in glass. The shadows draw us in and swallow us whole, space-time boiling around us.

The force of it begins to pull atme, a pressure inside my chest, pushing forward, trying to burst through my ribs. Struggling for breath, I squeeze Pol’s hand back, while my bones cry out and my head reels. Black dots float in my eyes, expanding, and no amount of blinking washes them away. It’s like I’m suffocating all over again.

“Riyan,” I gasp through my teeth.

The tensor’s eyes slam open and he sucks in a breath as the pressure gripping the ship relaxes and we shoot through. The wall’s dark tentacles release us, and we sail toward the white moon that waits ahead. A few splinters of lightning crackle over the ship, then fade away.

I let out a gasp and crumple into my seat. Then I realize I’m still clutching Pol’s hand. He seems to realize this at the same time, and we pull apart.

“That was a little too close,brother,” Pol grumbles.

Riyan leans forward to ignite the engine, muttering. It sounds suspiciously like, “I can’t believe that worked.”

We stare at him.

“You … youhavedone that before, right?” Mara asks.

Riyan shakes his head. “The barrier only works one way. When I left, I sailed right through it.”

“Oh,” says Pol. “Well. That’s reassuring. And we’re listening to this guywhy?”

“Be quiet,” I mutter, but my heart’s still knocking around like a bird trying to escape.

“Don’t we need to get entry clearance?” Pol asks.