In all my years in this world, I’d never dealt with something like this.

I’d witnessed empires crushed by invaders. Entire nations wiped off the face of the earth. Cultures destroyed and replaced by others. Plagues killing millions. Wars and famine. I’d have thought that was all I’d ever see—not once, not twice, but over and over across the universe.

Cerix had managed to surprise me, for I’d never seen a planet die from the inside out like this. The odds certainly weren’t in our favor, but the young GASP warriors were right: we had to try everything we could before surrendering Inalia to the Hermessi. I wasn’t going to get much out of GASP, though. They were stretched thin. Half of their agents were out hunting Hermessi cultists, while the other half were stuck with damage control. All the affected fae had to be brought in and quarantined, protected from Hermessi influence. It was bad enough they’d fallen ill and gone comatose. We couldn’t lose any of them.

My heart broke merely from thinking of Ben passing away. Or Vesta. That marvelous little creature. Or Vita. Or anyone else who had become such a positive part of my existence. I just couldn’t. So, out here, we were pretty much on our own. My apprentices and Kailani were busy helping GASP contain the fallen fae. I didn’t dare ask any of them to come over—it required time to travel, and it didn’t do much to help, anyway. I could acquire all the ingredients and power I needed for a mass exodus all by myself. The challenge was finding a planet close enough for it to work, given our extremely limited timeline.

The emperor was incredibly calm as he sat down in one of the chairs and listened to my complete account of all the events that had unfolded since we’d last spoken. I explained Brann’s death and the impact it would have on the planet, first. The color drained from his bony cheeks, but, still, he kept it together. Like a true leader would.

We sat in silence for a little while, giving him the time he needed to process what I’d just told him. It didn’t take long for him to respond, though. “What solutions are there, Lumi? I suppose you’ve got something in mind?” he asked.

I couldn’t help but smile. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for one, you’re still here. You haven’t run off. I know others would, if they were in your shoes and had zero options on how to tackle this… issue.”

I nodded. “Fair point. Thing is, the Hermessi have already offered a solution, but it’s not something we’re keen to go with. Not yet, anyway.”

“Oh, so they destroyed our fire and doomed us to destruction, but they have a way to fix it?” The edge in his voice was impossible to ignore. Behind us, Taeral and the others sat quietly, almost holding their breaths as they listened to our exchange.

“I suppose so, yes,” I replied. “They’re sneaky bastards. Thing is, if the planet dies, the Hermessi could simply slip away, much like Brann did to warn us in our worlds. Only, they’d find other places to settle. Planets that would need them. Most likely, planets whose Hermessi rebels would have also been destroyed.”

“That would mean the Cerixian Hermessi would scatter,” the emperor concluded.

“Most likely. It doesn’t matter. To them, the outcome will be the same. The mission is unchanged. The ritual continues, whether we like it or not,” I said. I then explained the cut-and-spell issue we’d been dealing with, in our worlds, and how it affected an increasing number of innocent fae. “So, to them, it doesn’t matter if Cerix lives or dies.”

“They’re going to let us die, aren’t they?” Emperor Tulla asked rhetorically.

“They’ve left us with a choice. Inalia is a Hermessi child. She could sacrifice herself and replace him. Become the new Fire Hermessi. Or, yes, Cerix dies.” I sighed.

The emperor froze for a second, then glanced at Inalia. There was sadness in his eyes, and it was a good sign for me, for us and our plan. It meant he hadn’t immediately jumped on the “sacrifice Inalia” train.

“That is cruel,” he murmured. “I am sorry, Inalia.”

She shrugged, persistently gazing at me, waiting for me to get to the next point of this conversation. “Your Majesty, there might be another way,” I said. “And it’s one I’m willing to explore, if you agree.”

I got his full attention. “What’s that?” he asked. “I am in no way eager to sacrifice a loyal subject for this. Especially not our darling Inalia. I didn’t rescue her from Dellon and Nalyon’s greedy claws only to lose her to these elemental evils.”

“It’s not a done deal, mind you. But I think it’s worth a shot,” I replied. “We could do a mass evacuation. Move everyone to the nearest inhabitable planet before Cerix freezes over.”

He frowned. There was a flicker of hope in his eyes, but the realization of the logistics was quick to cast its shadow. It was a natural reaction, I thought. I’d gone through the same mental process, minutes earlier.

“How much time do we have?” he asked.

“Two, maybe three days, if we’re lucky,” I said. “Amelia is monitoring the temperature drops, and she was able to give us an estimate, based on how the loss of fire has manifested until now.”

“How long would it take for this mass evacuation?”

“Provided we find a good planet, I can go there. I’d only need to modify the interplanetary spell’s trajectory with serium crystals, since I’d be going out without soil samples for the destination. Once I’m there, I would only need minutes to collect said soil samples, then I’d come back here and prepare the mass evacuation spell. I can teach it to the Cerixians, fortunately. The power of the Word is universal,” I explained. “Riza here would help with ingredient and spell distribution, planet-wide, and so would Taeral. After that, the people of Cerix would organize and depart in groups, one interplanetary spell at a time.”

“You’ve yet to tell me how long this would take,” the emperor replied, narrowing his eyes at me.

I let a deep breath roll out. “Up to two days.”

“We’d be cutting it close,” he said. “Do we have a neighboring planet in mind? We lack the technology to study the neighboring worlds for atmospheric conditions, I’m afraid.”

“We don’t know yet. Hold on, just one second,” I said, then pressed the call button on my earpiece. “Phoenix, are you there? Phoenix?”

A few seconds went by. The emperor didn’t take his eyes off me. The air felt thicker. I worried he might change his demeanor altogether, unless I showed him we could still go for plan B. I needed Phoenix for that, and, thankfully, his reply came through, crystal clear.

“I’m here, Lumi. How are you guys holding up?”

“Not as well as we’d like,” I replied. “I need your help. Actually, Cerix needs your help.”

Phoenix paused. “Okay?”

“Can you find the nearest inhabitable planet in Cerix’s galaxy?” I asked.

“Oh… You’re thinking a full-on planetary relocation,” Phoenix murmured.

“That would be the plan, yes.”

“Listen, I don’t have any data right now, but I’ll ride those telescopes, I’ll get Viola and Corrine to amplify their lenses and sensors, if needed, and, as soon as I have something, I’ll hit you back,” Phoenix said. “I’m sorry it’s not what you want to hear right now, but it’s the best we can do.”

With my gaze fixed on the emperor, I smiled. “I’ll take whatever you can give me, kiddo.”

“Will do.”

After I heard the click announcing the end of our conversation, I smiled at the emperor. He seemed intrigued, but not convinced or in any way less on edge, in light of our situation.

“Do we have a nearby world yet?” he asked.

I shook my head. “We have our best people working on it now,” I said. “It’s the best they can do, but I know they won’t let us down.”

“This is quite the conundrum, dear Lumi,” he muttered, leaning back into his chair.

“I know you’d be inclined to just get Inalia to take over as Fire Hermessi, but, please, reconsider and let us—” Taeral tried to speak, but the emperor cut him off.

“I have to think of my people,” he said. “Not just Inalia. I have millions to look after, and I cannot falter in my judgment, Taeral. One day, you, too, will be king to your people. And you might have to make a similar, if not worse decision. So, please. Allow me to think before I make a decision. Do not try to sway me in your direction. It wouldn’t be fair to Cerix, and it wouldn’t be fair to Inalia.”

I hated to have to admit this, but the emperor made a good point. We’d given him a second option, but we couldn’t guarantee its completion before the planet froze over. There were millions of Cerixians whose lives were at stake. We all knew it. It just wasn’t easy to accept that Inalia might have to die for this.

“Your Majesty,” Inalia interjected, “if you decide I should surrender to the Hermessi to save our people, I will, but—”

“Twenty-four hours,” the emperor interrupted her, his expression firm.

“Excuse me?” I asked, slightly confused.

“You have twenty-four hours,” he said. “To come up with a good neighboring planet. Assuming you’ve got everything else in hand, or, at least, at the ready, I suppose it won’t take you long to teleport everyone out of here.”

I nodded energetically, surprised by his decision. “I can start making arrangements now. If, in the next twenty-four hours, we get viable data from Phoenix on a nearby inhabitable planet, we’ll all be out of here in forty-eight hours.”

Glancing around, I noticed the sparks of enthusiasm in my crew’s eyes. Even Eira and Inalia had lit up. Trap, however, was unchanged. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and a deep shadow was drawn between his black eyebrows.

“And what if they don’t find a planet in the next twenty-four hours?” he asked.

“Then I expect Inalia to do the right thing,” the emperor replied.

“What if she won’t?” Trap asked.

“Trap, she’s—” Eira tried to speak, but Trap wouldn’t have any of it.

“She might be too scared. I wouldn’t blame her. What if she runs off? Huh? What then?”

Inalia frowned. “You seem to think very little of me.”

“I know Cerixians, in general, Inalia. And you were raised and educated as one, even though you’re half Hermessi,” Trap insisted. “Like I said, it’s not like I’d blame you if you decided to skip town. I’d probably do the same if I were you. But I’m not. I, like the emperor, need to make sure the whole of Cerix survives this next couple of days. I’m sorry, but I have to be blunt.”

“You should’ve expressed such doubts earlier,” Eira said. “We could’ve talked about it.”

“And what conclusion would we have reached, Eira? Please, think with your head, not your heart,” Trap retorted.

“I will make sure Inalia does what she needs to do,” I said, raising my voice above the increasing noise of needless bickering. “I can track her down anywhere,” I added, then swiftly cut a lock from her reddish hair and tucked it into a secret pocket. It took her by surprise, forcing a gasp from her throat. “Sorry, honey, just making sure I keep my word, if push comes to shove.”

“You all sound like I’m just going to run away, after years of serving the Cerixian Empire,” she snapped.

“No, but if I am to grant you this twenty-four-hour window, I need to make sure it doesn’t come back to bite me,” the emperor replied. “Therefore, I wholly understand Trap’s concerns, and I am thankful for Lumi’s initiative. Now that that’s settled, where do we go from here?”

Eira stepped forward. “Your Majesty, the people should be made aware.”

“That’s the perfect recipe for mass panic,” Taeral replied.

“We can’t leave them in the dark,” Eira said to him, then turned to face the emperor again. “Just tell them what’s going on. They’re not stupid or blind. They can already tell that something is wrong. They need to know.”

“And say that we’re all working on a solution to resolve this,” I added. “It may require a mass exodus, so they should all prepare. No one will be left behind, so they should all stand by for more information as we progress over the next twenty-four hours.”

The emperor nodded slowly. “I will write a message and have it broadcast through the Emergency Sound System.”

“We test EMS every month,” Trap said. “It’s ready to go at your say-so, Your Majesty.”

“Good. We’ll need it.”

“Excuse me, what’s the Emergency Sound System?” Raphael asked.

“We devised it with swamp witch magic,” Trap explained. “It transports sounds at high speed, all over the empire. We use it to alert the population in case of war, or invasion, or any kind of calamity that requires their immediate attention.”

The emperor got up from his chair and took Inalia’s hand in his, squeezing gently. “I hope you understand my position, child.”

“I do,” Inalia replied with a soft nod.

“To further emphasize why we’re better off evacuating,” Amelia chimed in, “and we talked about it among ourselves, too… If Inalia becomes a Hermessi, she’ll become a target for the others. They’re still planning something big and terrible, Your Majesty. It might turn out that this mass exodus is moot, in the end, if the Hermessi get their way.”

“I would never turn against my people, but… they’re right, it might not be up to me, once I become the Fire Hermessi,” Inalia mumbled.

“I’ve thought about that, too, rest assured,” the emperor replied. “Hence the twenty-four-hour deadline. If the circumstances allow it, I will always choose the lesser evil, as long as my people get to live. Whether they get to live for a few more weeks or an entire lifetime is no longer up to me, but it is my duty to give them the best chance at either.”

“And mass panic will ensue, either way,” I said. “The Cerixians won’t take it lightly. The death cults will probably love what’s coming next—they’ll probably thrive on the chaos. But, in the end, we’re all driven by survival. The Cerixians will leave this planet, if they have to.”

“Just don’t mention Inalia, at all, in your message,” Taeral added. “Please, Your Majesty.”

“He’s got a point,” Trap muttered. “They might take matters into their hands and go after her. The masses will surely sacrifice her, if it means they can stay here, in their home world.”

The emperor nodded in agreement. “That is perfectly understandable. Like I said, Inalia’s been through enough already. With or without her sacrifice, I must protect her, as well.”

Inalia let a deep sigh roll out of her chest, as she dropped back in her chair. She looked exhausted, but also relieved. “I don’t want anyone to hold it against me, but I honestly don’t feel ready to take Brann’s place. I don’t even know what the whole process entails, but, like Taeral said, it can’t be anything good.”

“Speaking of which, do we know what it takes for someone like Inalia to become the next Fire Hermessi?” the emperor asked.

“We’ve bounced some theories back and forth, Your Majesty,” I said. “None of them look good for her, because the Hermessi don’t have bodies. Most importantly, they’re devoid of any moral code or notion of mercy or kindness. I doubt they’d make it easy on her. She’d certainly have to abandon everything she has, everything she is… everything she knows.”

“The Hermessi are entities. Pure energy. Some of that is inside Inalia,” Amelia continued. “Whatever the process, it will most likely involve the separation of that energy from the body. That, in itself, translates to physical death. So, yes, we refer to it as a sacrifice for good reason.”

None of us said anything for a while, but I did find comfort in the emperor’s ability to empathize with Inalia and his willingness to help her. Once again, he’d proven himself to be an extraordinary leader in my book—and I’d met my fair share of those.

Eira put an arm around Inalia’s shoulders. “Whatever happens, you know you’ve got us, right? You know you’ve got me?”

“And I couldn’t thank you enough for that,” Inalia replied, tearing up. “Thank you,” she sobbed, then glanced around the room at each of us. “Thank you all. I mean it.”

“Don’t thank us till it’s over,” Raphael replied dryly. “You might end up with your ass on fire, after all.”

“Wow, that’s so considerate of you!” Amelia growled at him.

Raphael offered a shrug in return, followed by an apologetic smile aimed at Inalia. “Pardon my bluntness, of course. But you know I’m right, don’t you?”

Inalia nodded. “I know.”

“See? She knows,” Raphael said to Amelia, who rolled her eyes, then shifted her focus back to the tablet.

“Whatever. I’m prepping another report for GASP,” she replied, then looked at me. “Shall I have them send over anything?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll input the quantities I need in there. We need at least five hundred kilograms of serium crystals, on top of the basic interplanetary spell ingredients required for transporting almost seven million Cerixians,” I said.

“Make that eight,” Trap interjected. “After last month’s census, our numbers have gone up.”

“Oh, goody.” I sighed, almost envisioning the amount of power and effort it would take to move so many people from one planet to another.

The thing that most GASP agents didn’t get—mainly because they didn’t have my experience—was that the interplanetary spell could be downright exhausting, draining the spell-caster of their natural energy if there were more than a couple hundred passengers to transport. Eight million was going to induce a lot of pain in my body. I’d never moved so many people before.

I’d theorized about it and I knew it was possible, but I’d never done it myself. Of course, I couldn’t tell the emperor that. I’d just gotten twenty-four more hours for Inalia to live. The last thing I wanted was for him to change his mind. I had faith I could do it, and, since she’d offered, I had Riza, too. Her jinni power would help things go smoothly.

Provided we found a planet. All I could do, for the time being, was hope Phoenix would come through for us. For Inalia. For Cerix.