Page 23 of Ember Rising

“No, I quit,” Marcus yells back. “There’s a difference.”

I shake my head. “We still have a lot to do, so we’re ready to leave in the morning.”

He puts his hands out. “Let’s do it, then.”

We’re supposed to go to a warehouse and pack the gear we want to take with us. I was hoping Marcus, Amira, and I could talk on the walk there, but when I look for her, she’s about to walk through a set of double doors and leave.

“Amira’s not herself,” I say softly.

“She doesn’t like her assignment,” Marcus says. “She’ll get over it.”

I pinch my brows together, giving him a look. “She just wanted to stay with us. Everyone got what they wanted but her.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Did Pax get what he wanted?”

“I think so. He sounded enthusiastic about his assignment.”

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Amira’s a fighter. She knows how to take care of herself. We’ll tell Eli we want a timeline on her teaching archery, and then we want her assigned closer to us. Maybe not working directly with us, but close by, so we can see her.”

The look on Amira’s face in the meeting earlier is still so clear in my mind. She wasn’t just displeased or surprised. She looked terrified. I’ve seen her take on mutant mantises and men twice her size without a trace of fear.

“What kind of timeline?”

Marcus considers. “A month? Two months?”

“One month. Then I want her near us in Carson City. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Pax is approaching us, running slower now. Olin is talking to Bill.

“Ready to gear up?” I ask Pax.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

I can’t concentrate on the small talk between everyone on the way to the warehouse. Somehow, I have to get some time alone with Amira and find out what’s going on with her. I don’t want to leave in the morning unless I know she’s okay.

8

“We recently added some valuable members to our ranks. Hopefully this will help turn the tide. The people we’ve lost weigh on my mind.” Decoded message from ILF leader Smythe to ILF handler Hiro Tanaka

Amira

Six years ago

Do rats ever have a good, cleansing cry?

I don’t think so, and that’s a good sign. I swipe my grimy fingers over my cheeks, clearing away the tears. There’s so much I used to know that I don’t anymore.

What day it is. Whether it’s safe to leave this building. Whether I’m a woman or a filthy rat, scurrying around in the dark and scavenging for food, with no real purpose or meaning to my life.

Keep going.

That’s what my mother would say. She wasn’t affectionate, and she didn’t praise me much, but I’d give anything to talk to her right now. She always said strength can’t be seen in the sunlight. When it’s dark, and you think you’ve given everything you have, and all you want to do is lie down and quit, that’s when you find your strength.

I’ll probably never see her again. My father was always the warmer of my parents, but it’s my mom I’ve missed desperately over the past seven months. Her love language was preparation. She didn’t just equip me with an education, but with an ability to do hard things.

Even with her wealth and influence, my mom couldn’t land me a spot on the US Olympic archery team. I had to put in the work. My father told me that when my mom saw me walk out in my uniform for the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games, she wept like he’d never seen.