The Annwynese ships had them surrounded, and were picking off refugee ships. Explosions like their own small stars were born and died within seconds, all without a sound. Only the debris remained, drawn to the atmosphere of the world they had all fought so hard to escape. 

"Hold tight." Coppelius began flipping switches. "We're jumping to fast-travel."

"With all these ships around?" Sorrel was drawn out of the horror unfolding around her by Coppelius's plan. "That would kill us!"

"It won't." He paused, hand hovering over the blue crystal. "I think we have a chance. I can't explain it—but I can feel it."

He looked into her eyes. "Just like I could feel that you were safe, that you would help me."

Sorrel found she couldn't argue with that. And she knew that if she did nothing, it would only be a matter of time before they would fall victim to the same horrible fate burning around them. 

"Do it." 

Coppelius didn't hesitate. Sorrel shut her eyes as the metal whined around them, preparing for a sudden impact and the end. 

But to her surprise, there was no such thing. 

The whining ceased, and gradually returned to hum, and she opened her eyes to see the stars streaking in lines around her, forming a rainbow of colors in the signature sight of space at light-speed. 

"Whoa." Sorrel could not help herself. It was a wonder unlike anything she'd ever seen before, and with it came a sense of calm, of serenity. 

Coppelius sank back against his chair, strands of his white-blond hair falling in his face. "We're safe now." 

He glanced at the mapping screen, a more advanced piece of tech than the radar. "We're en route for Lemuria. We should be there in about eight hours." 

Sorrel looked back out at the stars streaking by her. "It's so beautiful. I hadn't realized. . ."

However, she was drawn out of her reverie of admiration by the soft pattering of footsteps. She turned her head to see Gwynn and Celine disappearing into the back room of the ship.

She stood up and turned the chair to Madame Abelard. "Here, why don't you take a seat for a little while?"

Madame Abelard stared her down with her sharp silver eyes. Sorrel knew from her encounters with the master of the scrapyard before that she was sizing her up. A valuable skill for an older woman living on her own and running a business. 

Something in her gaze softened. "You're a sweet child, Sorrel."

With that, she took Sorrel's seat, and Sorrel headed to the back. 

Her mother and sister sat on the floor close to the wall. Celine was clutching the larger of the two boxes, tears shining in her deep blue eyes. 

"It's all gone," Celine whispered over and over again. "Everything is gone."

Gwynn reached out to touch her mother's arm in an attempt at reassurance. "We're still here. And you saved Papa's things. That's not nothing."

"I know." Celine swiped at her tears with the sleeve of her coat. "But the Bed and Breakfast—I put everything into it. I made it a home, I built that place with your father into what it is—was."

Sorrel felt as if her heart were in her throat. Her eyes began to burn as she locked eyes on the box beside Gwynn, where she'd tossed her precious box from her father aside in the chaos of the escape. 

That was now all that remained of her childhood home and of her father's legacy. 

Sorrel silently joined her mother and sister. She opened the box of her father's things and pulled out the rose-red silk flight scarf. Her father had left it to her in hopes that she would do what he had not—become a pilot, a spacer, an adventurer.

What price had she paid for the wish to come true?

One of the largest empires outside of the Society of Worlds had fire-bombed her home, reduced it to rubble and ash to smoke out a boy like starlight. She'd helped the boy, but now everything was uncertain. 

No, it was as Celine had said. Everything was gone.

Sorrel felt a hot tear roll down her cheek, and then one joined the other, then another. Soon, all three of them were crying for the home they had lost, the home to which it was likely they would never return.