Zal

“Torian! Sun, please, no. Torian!” I dropped to the ground next to where they lay beside the lifeless Star-born.

I ripped Torian’s shirt apart and pressed a hand to their chest. No little zing of awareness, not even a ghost of a heartbeat flutter. The gold lattice under Torian’s skin was gray and dull, exactly like my Sun Stone when its charge was depleted.

Wait a moment.

Depleted charge? Hadn’t I noticed the similarities between Torian and my Stone? Hadn’t I seen that network of metal on their back, exposed to the sun the way I recharged my staff? They needed fuel for their—what did they call them?—cybertronics, and those were solar powered, just like my staff.

My bloody half-charged staff. But with the sun still hidden behind the mountain, it was all I had.

“Please let it be enough.”

I stripped Torian to the waist, their slender body already cooling on my lap. I turned them gently, exposing that astonishing metal latticework on their back.

Grasping my staff, I willed the Stone to life, the sudden flare so bright I had to squint. The light bathed Torian’s back. I felt the heat on my own wrist where it supported Torian—scorching, as if the sun had drawn too close to the earth. Would it burn that pale skin? Did the lattice have a limit on what it could absorb at one time?

I eased back on the Stone’s output and knelt there, in the imprisoned light of the sun, and prayed for all I was worth that it would be enough.

Too soon, the light began to fade, although the gold beneath Torian’s skin had barely begun to glimmer.

“No! More, blast you.”

I can’t fail now. Not with this. Not with them. Torian had sacrificed themself for me. How humbling that the person I’d been half-convinced meant nothing but chaos for the world might have been its salvation.

I exerted my will, further than I’d ever tried before, forcing every last bit of energy out of the Stone until, with a crack as loud as the death of Star Mountain, the Stone shattered, scattering shards over me, over Torian, over the ground, and cleaving my staff in two.

Yet Torian didn’t move.

Dimly, I wondered why the destruction of my Stone didn’t gut me, why it was insignificant, trivial against the monumental pain of Torian’s death.

I cradled Torian in my arms, held tight against me. My hair, a curtain around my face, lay in limp black ropes across their skin as dry sobs shook my shoulders.

“Zal?” I caught my breath at the thready whisper and eased Torian away from my chest, nearly breaking down anew when they blinked at me, confusion clouding the depths of those luminous gray eyes. “What— How did I—” They pushed feebly at me. “Why am I functional? Did Edric—”

“Shhh.” I laid my palm against their cheek, for my own comfort as well as theirs. “Edric is no longer a threat.”

Their eyebrows bunched. “No longer a threat?”

“No.” I angled myself so that Torian, still in my arms, could see the Star-born stretched out on the ground, but at their swift inhale, twisted again to hide the body. I doubted they’d ever seen death up close before, and I was certain—as certain as the Sun—that they’d never killed anyone. That kind of thing left a mark, be the punishment ever so justified. Every circuit mage knew that. We all bore the scars of our calling on our souls.

“He’s dead?” they whispered brokenly.

“Aye.”

“Good.” They gazed up at me. “I know that’s wrong, that I should never be glad of anyone’s death, but I chose to…to eliminate Edric. For you. For your people. And I can’t be sorry.”

I smiled down at them. “They’re your people too. You’re as much of this world as I am, no matter how the Infomancers tried to remake you into a tool for their own devices.” I hugged them tight again, murmuring into their hair. “Sun, moon, and stars, Torian, I thought I’d lost you. Don’t you ever do something like that again.”

Torian coughed. “No promises, but I’ll try to keep the near-death experiences to a minimum.”

For a moment—a long moment—I held them, their hands warm now against my chest, their hair tickling my cheek in the chilly morning breeze, until they began to shiver in my arms.

“Zal?”

“Yes, my own moon?”

“Why am I half naked?” They pulled back to peer up at me. “For that matter, how am I alive? I forced myself into a cascading system failure. I should be as dead as Edric.”

“Ah. Well. As it happens, I made a choice of my own.” I plucked a Sun Stone shard out of Torian’s hair and tossed it aside.

Their eyes widened as they scanned the remains of my staff. “You…you rebooted me? But that must have taken—”

“Everything I had. And I’d do it again in a bloody heartbeat.” I kissed the top of their head. “Now let’s get you warmed up.” I helped Torian to their feet and eyed their clothes that I’d tossed willy-nilly in my haste to save them. They were covered with Sun Stone shards, and I knew from experience that even the tiniest could slice like the sharpest dagger, or work their way beneath skin like a needle. So I took off my cloak and draped it around Torian’s shoulders and led them to the fire. “Wait here while I make sure your clothes won’t shred you like mincemeat. I have precious few healing stones left, and since without my Stone there’ll be no more, we’d best practice a little prevention, eh?”

Torian nodded numbly, pulling the cloak tight as they sank down on the log next to the embers. I took a moment to stoke the fire back to a crackling blaze, and for good measure, settled the blankets from our bedrolls around Torian.

I left them staring into the flames and strode over to shake out their shirt, jerkin, and coat. After I’d made doubly sure that no Sun Stone flakes remained in the worn folds, I took them back to Torian. “How about you put these on while I”—I glanced over my shoulder—“deal with yon Infomancer. I’m sorry I’ll have to bury him, but a proper pyre would be—”

“The Infomancers!” Torian shot to their feet, the blankets and my cloak pooling at their feet. “Fuck! I forgot.”

One day, I’d have to ask them what fuck meant, because clearly it was a word that held weight. “Whatever you forgot, it can wait until you’re rested and properly dressed.”

“No.” Their mouth set in a determined line. “It can’t.”

And they took off across the clearing, leaped over Edric’s corpse, and disappeared into the trees.