Chapter Thirty?Nine

  A Light Moment in the Dark

  The Clover glided deeper into the forgotten lane, her lights a soft, steady glow against the swirling resonance dust. The shadow-shaped patterns left behind by the Gate pulsed faintly in her hull memory, like a heartbeat that wasn’t hers alone.

  Kael tried to focus on the star-thread in front of them. He really did.

  But the silence on the bridge was creeping toward heavy, and Kessa could feel it.

  Which meant she was about to break it.

  “Kael,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “are you good?”

  “Mhm.”

  “That’s a lie,” Lyra said from the floor, where she was doodling Jorin’s star symbol on her datapad.

  “It’s not a lie,” Kael insisted. “I’m just… thinking.”

  Jarin glanced up from his quiet tea. “Sometimes thinking is fine. Sometimes thinking is code for ‘my emotions are in a small container I refuse to open.’”

  Kael narrowed his eyes. “I don’t refuse to open it.”

  All three siblings stared at him.

  “…Usually.”

  Clover hummed a low note that sounded suspiciously like, you definitely do.

  Kael glared up at the ceiling. “You, too?”

  Clover flickered a smug pink.

  Kessa burst out laughing. “Clover’s calling you out!”

  Lyra clapped. “She speaks the truth!”

  Jarin hid a smile in his mug.

  Kael slumped into his chair with a groan. “Why is everyone ganging up on me today?”

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  Kessa spun her seat around dramatically. “Because you’re doing the Concentrated Brooding Face.”

  Lyra nodded. “And we love you. Therefore, no brooding allowed.”

  Jarin added, “We’re worried.”

  Kael sighed. “I’m fine. Really.”

  Kessa leaned forward. “Okay, then prove it.”

  Kael blinked. “How?”

  Lyra shot her hand up so fast she almost launched herself backward. “I KNOW. A PUN.”

  “No,” Kael said immediately.

  “Yes,” all three siblings replied.

  Kessa wagged a finger dramatically. “If you can survive one pun without imploding, we’ll believe you’re not spiraling.”

  Jarin nodded. “Reasonable test.”

  Lyra bounced on the balls of her feet. “DEAL?”

  Kael pressed his forehead into his palms. “…Fine.”

  Kessa grinned like she’d been waiting her whole life for this.

  She leaned in close, eyes sparkling with absolute mischief, and whispered:

  “Hey Kael… after that Shadow Gate? You could say we all had to… facing our dark side.”

  Kael made a strangled choking sound.

  Lyra fell over laughing. Jarin actually snorted tea. Clover flashed a bright gold, delighted.

  Kael pointed at the ceiling. “Clover—stop ENCOURAGING THEM.”

  But the ship only flickered more playfully.

  Jarin wiped his eyes, the corners crinkled with warmth. “You’re okay, Kael. If you weren’t, you would have vaporized from that pun.”

  Lyra gave him a huge thumbs up. “You passed the test!”

  Clover hummed softly — soft gold calming into dusky pink. Approving. Affectionate.

  Kael leaned back in his seat, cheeks slightly red but heart lighter than before.

  “Okay,” he admitted quietly. “Maybe I needed that.”

  Kessa reached over and squeezed his arm. “You always do, big brother.”

  Lyra leaned her head against his shoulder. “We’re your lanterns. Remember?”

  Jarin nodded. “And you’re ours.”

  The Clover settled into a warm hum — the sound she used when the whole crew was in harmony.

  Outside the viewport, the resonance dust parted, revealing the faint outline of another gate — this one shimmering like a ripple in time.

  Kael straightened, all joking fading.

  “Alright,” he murmured. “Let’s see what comes next.”

  Clover pulsed gold.

  The lantern glowed.

  And the Hartleys — brighter for their laughter, steadier for their closeness — sailed together toward the next light on the forgotten road.