The riptide of the portal slows and the glow begins to dim. My skin is snowy white as I make for the watery hilltop speckled with underwater stars. The current becomes almost nonexistent. It lets go of me. I struggle and tumble in the cold pool as the heavy pack on my back weighs me down. Fighting to reach the bank I can see ahead, my breathing becomes shallower, because the small tank of oxygen is running low. I almost weep when my feet scrape the incline of the bank, and I stand with my head above the water. I trip forward, wading until I fall to my knees and crawl the rest of the way through the black volcanic sand to the lip of the pool. I rip the tankoid from my mouth, taking my first breath on Earth in so many months.
Beside me, Phlix spits out her tankoid, coughing and wheezing as she collapses with her cheek in the sand. We stare at each other, panting and gasping and in shock. I reach out and take her numb hand in mine. I know we have to move soon so that we don’t become hypothermic, but I can’t seem to make myself do it just yet.
Phlix’s voice reverberates in the cave, bouncing off the dripping stalactites that threaten us from the rock above. “Your friends saved us.”
I nod because I can’t speak. I can’t talk about it now or I’ll never make it. I’ll just lay here for the rest of my life with a dead heart. She seems to sense that I’m close to tears.
Instead she asks, “What was in the box?”
“A letter to my sister and a warning not to follow us.”
“Do you think it will work?” she asks.
“I hope so, but we won’t take any chances. We’ll have to hide. We can’t go to Chicago. We have to start over.”
“Where would you like to do that?” Phlix asks.
“Have you ever been to college?”
“I’ve never been anywhere.”
Rising to my feet even though I’d rather not, I help Phlix up. We unwrap each other from ropes and tape. Unfastening our flipcarts, we carry the boards out of the glowing chamber, away from the pool. We put on our night-vision glasses once more, and it’s easier than I expect to find my way to the bottom of the cliff wall; I merely have to follow the footprints on the ground.
Phlix shows me the holographic buttons to press to change the mode and make the flipcart elevate straight up. Hers rises faster than mine. As I rise past the rock, I remember almost dying in this spot. When I’m almost to the top, I don’t know why, but I look down into the darkness and shout out, “Baw-da-baw!” The sound echoes.
Then I’m at the summit, where Phlix is already waiting for me. We shift our flipcarts back to hover mode and surf our way through the rest of the cave. The night sky greets us as we emerge from the dark mouth of the cavern.
Phlix lets out a deep gasp as she sees the moon for the first time. It’s autumn and the moon glows orange, hanging low in the sky. We pause for a moment, staring at it. “They call that a harvest moon,” I say, as my damp hair stirs in the warm fall breeze. “It’s not always like that.”
“Where is the other moon?” she asks.
“There’s only one moon,” I reply.
“That rips my heart out. It must get so lonely,” she murmurs.
“It’s not alone. It has the world.”
EPILOGUE
Dear Astrid,
If you’re reading this letter, then you know that I’ve chosen to leave Ethar and live out my life under different stars. I promise to stay far from you, beneath Earth’s darker skies. It’s my hope to become a vapor trail, fading from your world and from your mind.
Memories of you are the most desolate aspect of all of this for me, because I know that I once loved you. I’m certain of it. Whenever I try to remember you, it’s as if I’m looking into the sun. I see glimpses of the little girl you once were, but it begins to hurt my eyes and it fades and I’m forced to look away. What I think I know is you’re the well and I’m the hollow. You’re the tree with roots and I’m the swallow. I hope you don’t think I never loved you because I did. I spent my life looking for you—for Astrid.
I don’t want to be a star, caged by the night. I won’t be hung up in the sky for others to decide how high I can soar. No one gets to do that but me. I can’t be someone’s possession. I won’t be owned. My heart has grown fiercer; I want wildflowers without worms. I want love, but on my own terms.
With all of my reasons to go, a few make me want to stay. I will miss dancing in caves. I will miss sleeping in graves. I will miss days filled with honey. I will miss Wayra because he’s funny. I will miss seas bright with stars. I will miss hovercars. I will miss my Crystal Clear Moment. I will miss a love that I had chosen. I will miss betting on asses. I will miss puke and rally clashes. I will miss ships in the sky. I will miss my lover who lies.
For all those things, as well as for the affection I feel in my heart for the people whose lives had become hopelessly intertwined with mine, I tried to ensure that each of you received what you wanted most. You, Astrid, will be empress. Pan will rebuild Ethar. Giffen will get to live out his days at home instead of on Earth. Jax will have Rafe back, and Wayra will too. Trey will have his family, and Kyon has had his revenge.
No, I don’t regret coming to Ethar.
I fell in love . . . maybe even twice.
Along with this letter, I have left a gift for you—a token of my affection. The street vendors in Urbenoster began selling these little, plastic toy tiaras upon my return to Alameeda. I have a hazy memory of owning something similar to this one when I was about five. I don’t recall if you had one as well, but I’m betting that you did. You’re the empress now, and I accept your sovereignty over Ethar. You will probably make a better ruler than I ever would. However, should you send your people to Earth to harm me, I’ll find a way to make your crown as worthless as this one you find here.
Farewell to you and your royal throne.
Hugs and kisses, I’m going home.
Your sister,
Kricket