Page 74 of Last of Her Name

I nod, feeling the wisdom of his words, even if I’m not entirely sure that I agree with them.

We step out of the lift still speckled with snow, into a common area where tensors are gathered to talk and drink their bitter iceroot tea. Even here on the far edge of the galaxy, Triangulum seems to be the most popular game, and several clusters of people are bent over hologram boards, speaking in hushed, intent whispers. In one corner, a girl is playing a stringed instrument, filling the chamber with soft, dreamy notes.

I’m shivering from the snow, which has melted and slipped under my clothes. Riyan shakes his robes, then helps me out of my cloak.

“Thank you,” I say. “Today was fun.”

He smiles, and I realize how rare it is that he does that. It softens him, makes me remember he’s no older than I am. He only carries himself as if the galaxy weighed on his shoulders. “It was my pleasure, Princess. You made me remember how magical the snow seemed, when I was a child. It brought me joy when I needed it most. I think I should be thanking you.”

His smile fades slowly, and worry creeps into his eyes. I reach out impulsively and grab his hand.

“It’s going to work out,” I say. “Your trial, I mean. They have to see you were doing the right thing.”

He stares at my hand in his. “It would be easier to face if I’d found her.”

“Natalya’s out there. There’s still hope.”

He meets my gaze. “Like your friend Clio.”

I nod. “Like my friend Clio. We’ll get them back, Riyan.”

I hear a cough and realize Pol is standing a few feet away. I drop Riyan’s hand and turn to him, my cheeks warming.

Pol looks like an entirely different aeyla from the one I nursed on the trip here, thanks to his Trying and, I have to admit, Damai’s expert care. The gold has returned to his complexion and the brightness to his eyes. He wears tensor clothing, loose gray garments that wrap and tie and hang in a way that only highlights his new physique. It’s impossible to look at him and not lose my breath, as I’m still adjusting to the changes the Trying worked in him. With his broader shoulders, longer horns, and sharpened bone structure, Pol is almost a stranger, and I feel a disconcerting surge of shyness when he looks at me with those clear gray eyes. I have to remind myself this is the boy who once tripped over me in a footrace and landed in a heap of mantibu dung, just so I can breathe again.

“Have a good time?” he asks stiffly. “I finally managed to escape your jailor of a sister, mate. Guess I was too late to join the fun.”

“Oh, come on, you grouch.” I grab his sleeve, pulling him toward the lift. “Can I borrow those, Riyan?”

Riyan nods and tosses me the cloaks. I pull mine on, and Pol puts on the other. The fur hood frames his face, making his cheekbones even more pronounced. Swallowing hard, I stare at my shoes and tell myself the tumbling sensation in my stomach is just due to the rapidly rising lift.

At the top of the pyramid, the lift slows and the door opens. We step out onto the immense flat top of Tyrrha, where the cold leaves me breathless. I pull on my cloak and hug it tight, watching my breath frost the night air. Dusty snow blows around us; it pricks my face and glitters on the ends of my hair.

Standing here, I can feel the true immensity of the pyramid. It’s three miles across, three miles wide. You could drop a city on top of it.

The moon has turned its face away from the planet, so the whole of the galaxy is before us. We’re staring into the unexplored wilderness of the universe. The stars are endless, dust upon silver dust, cold and brilliant in the night. I stare at them and wonder if the Prismata is somewhere in that darkness, a cold and lonely crystal light-years away. The key to controlling a galaxy, just waiting to be found, and somehow, the only map is linked to me.

Maybe it’s best I never find the Firebird, and the Prismata remains hidden away. No one should have that much power.

“There.” Pol pokes my shoulder, and I turn and follow his pointing finger.

“Home,” he whispers.

My eyes fix on the little dot of light that is Amethyne’s sun. From this distance, it appears silver blue. It occurs to me that the light I’m seeing would have taken thousands of years to reach Diamin. Underthatstar, there’s no war destroying my home. There are no vityazes, no humans, no aeyla. Just a warm little planet turning in the sky. I’m staring into the past, and the past stares back.

“I brought you something,” I say. I take a small box from my pocket and open it. A snowball sits inside, kept cool by a tiny generator in the hinge. I take it out and set it onto Pol’s palm.

He gives a little laugh, turning it over. Then he pinches off some and sticks it on his tongue.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he says.

“How is it?”

“Good.” He pinches off another bit and holds it out. I open my mouth, and he pops it onto my tongue. I let it sit there and melt, the coldness making my mouth tingle.

“Not as good as Ravi’s though,” I point out. “Not even a hint of strawberry.”

Pol watches me, his eyes as gray as the snow clouds. “I never thanked you for what you did. For me. On the ship.”