Amena’s Rise to Stardom: Divine Warriors #0

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Amena’s Rise to Stardom: Divine Warriors #0 Page 8

by Kristen S. Walker


  I glance up at him and shiver at the thought. “Oh.”

  The airship reaches the top of the walls. Rinari squeals and grabs my arm.

  The bustling city of Serynda couldn’t have prepared me for Olona. Towers rise impossibly tall, decorated with carvings and sculptures. The midday sun reflects everywhere, from the elaborate stained glass windows of the temples to the strange brass machinery of the workshops. The streets are narrow, with buildings leaning over them. Cars hang on a network of cables above, zipping from one part of the city to the next.

  Bymonten points out landmarks with an air of boredom. “The Crystal Temple of Olona,” he says, pointing to a huge pyramid building that seems carved out of crystal, or maybe it’s more glass. “The Ministry of Technological Research & Development.” This one looks like an enormous clock shaped like a dragon. “The Botanical Garden, and of course, the Grand Concert Hall where you’ll be performing.”

  Rinari presses close to the window trying to get a good look at the concert hall. Her nose leaves smudges on the glass. “I can’t wait to be there.”

  Bymonten smiles. “It will happen faster than you expect.”

  I take a deep breath as we step outside. The air is pure, without the slightest hint of smoke or smog. The first time I’ve ever filled my lungs with unpolluted air. I close my eyes for a moment. If only Mama could be here, she’d breathe easily.

  Olona City is beautiful beyond anything I could have imagined. I’m glued to the window as we ride the cable car from the airship hangars. I would never have trusted such a thin cable to carry a metal vehicle full of people, but Bymonten reassures us it’s safe. The streets are spotless, it’s hard to imagine that anyone walks on them. Sunstones power every convenience, like the lift we ride up to our hotel rooms on the seventh floor. I’m sure the kitchen must have a mechanical dishwasher, too. No scrubbing pots and pans by hand for these fancy city dwellers.

  I can’t wait for a chance to go to the Grand Concert Hall so we can see where we’ll be performing, but the Star Search coordinators tell us it’s not ready for us to go practice yet. In a rare luxury, we’re given a few hours of free time to go explore the city.

  I’m tempted to go back to my room and take a nap after my late night, but Rinari skips up and takes me by the arm. “I know the perfect place for us to go,” she announces. “Let’s go see the Crystal Temple!”

  My heart beats faster. It must be the mention of the temple and not Rinari’s touch. I smile at her. “I guess that sounds like fun.”

  She winks at me. “You guess? C’mon, show more enthusiasm.” She pulls me along after her.

  Despite the size of the capital, the streets aren’t crowded as we walk to the temple. I guess most people are at work. There are no vehicles in the street since all transportation is in the cable cars overhead. The people we see all smile and nod as we pass them, but no one stops to chat or look in the shop windows. They seem to know where they’re going.

  Rinari and I are getting lost at every other turn. We saw the Crystal Temple from the air. We thought we knew the right direction, but there’s a lot of streets. The buildings all loom high above us, leaning together until they’re almost touching. How strange that in a floating city, I can’t see the sky except in tiny snatches.

  We stop and ask for directions in a pastry shop. I’m distracted by the array of colorful desserts, each one of them detailed and elaborate enough to be a work of art. I can’t imagine eating something so delicate. I buy a small bag of cookies for Rinari and I to share, and one beautiful fruit tart with candied flowers on top as an offering for Qachmy. Something that nice should please a goddess.

  We eat the cookies as we walk, and our fingers are soon coated with powdered sugar. Rinari remembered to grab some paper napkins, so we don’t make too much of a mess. I couldn’t go inside a city temple with my hands all sticky.

  At last, the street opens up into a broad square, and at the middle of it is the Crystal Temple.

  The temple is shaped like an ancient pyramid, except it’s made of glass with only a thin metal framework holding it all together. The open area allows the sun to shine on it, making it sparkle like a crystal, and the flat surfaces reflect the pale blue sky above. We stand in the square and stare.

  I break the silence by clearing my throat. “Um. Do you want to go in?”

  Rinari nods, her eyes still wide and fixed on the incredible building. “Yes.” She grins and grabs my hand. “We have to go in after coming all the way here!”

  She’s more subdued when we step through the entrance, a set of glass panels that slide open with only a whisper of movement as we approach. I look around for the mechanism that must move them but I can’t see it.

  Inside, the temple is minimally decorated, allowing the sunlight to fill everything with a quiet reverence. I’m used to carvings, stained glass, elaborate paintings to celebrate the gods. There are only stark white floors and benches. The altar sits in the middle of the room, under the pyramid’s peak, bare except for a golden sun icon.

  “It’s so modern,” Rinari says. “They could have dressed it up with anything, but they just left it simple—nothing but the light. It feels so different, doesn’t it? Like Chysa is here with us.”

  I shiver a little and squint up at the sun. In the clean air, it’s too bright to look at even through the glass. “Um. I guess so.” It doesn’t feel at all like the time I was in Qachmy’s presence, but maybe every goddess is different. “How much light do you think they get at dawn?”

  Rinari turns and gestures to the eastern side of the city through the glass walls. “Look. The buildings are lined up so there’s an opening for the first rays of the sun to hit this temple. I can’t wait to see it tomorrow morning.”

  I nod and look around. “Do you think the other shrines are behind this building?”

  “No shrines,” Rinari says flatly.

  Something in her tone of voice makes me pause. “What do you mean, there’re no shrines? If this altar is for Chysa, where do they worship the other gods?”

  “They don’t.” She gestures to the temple. “Here in the city, they don’t bother with the other gods. What do they need with a jungle goddess when there’s no jungle? Why pray to a farm god when your food is all shipped in from far away?” She shakes her head. “No, all they care about is the power they get from Chysa.”

  I’m still clutching the fruit tart for Qachmy in my spare hand. “Isn’t that…” Blasphemous sounds too harsh. The priestesses who run this temple are the rulers of the entire Northern Province. They couldn’t be guilty of blaspheming their own gods. “Is that okay?” I say finally.

  “It’s not okay!” Rinari’s voice grows louder, echoing through the huge space.

  People turn around and stare at her. A few disapproving murmurs drift through the air.

  I pull her closer and whisper in her ear. “Hey, take it easy. We don’t want to cause any trouble.”

  “And why not?” Rinari drags me up to the altar. “This is it, Amena. The place where all the decisions are made for the entire region. And the only god they listen to is the highest one, the one who raised them up to be better than all of us.”

  I stare at her open-mouthed. She’s starting to sound like a rebel.

  She points at the base of the altar. “You know what else they control?” She puts her hand on my shoulder. “You haven’t had your Choosing Day yet, so I bet they didn’t tell you how the gods decide the rest of your life. There’s a labyrinth under this temple—under every temple. You go in there to get tested and wherever you end up, you get stuck forever.”

  I’ve actually heard something about the test for Choosing Day. It’s supposed to be a secret, but the rebellion prepares its children so they can have every advantage in getting through the labyrinth. Mama says it’s actually controlled by some kind of machinery. But I don’t know where Rinari is going with her strange ranting, so I say, “Isn’t it supposed to work that way, to be fair?”

  Rina
ri shakes her head violently. “How is it fair if they only listen to the values of one goddess!” She gestures around the temple. “Tamarau doesn’t even have a picture. They don’t care about the arts at all. If your greatest strength is singing, but there’s no value in professional singers outside of a few mega stars, then where do you end up?”

  I didn’t know where Rinari came from before she joined Star Search. She seemed so polished in her routines, I thought she was already kinda famous as a singer. “Where?”

  “In a factory.” She looks down at her hands, rubbing at a callus on one finger. “I hunch over a sewing machine all day long, making beautiful dresses I’ll never be able to afford on my tiny salary. This is my only chance. If I don’t win Star Search, I’ll never get a singing contract.”

  I put my hand on her arm. “That’s not true. Record companies are watching the finals. Even if we don’t win, we could still get a deal.”

  She shakes her head. “Maybe a small one, but no one cares about second place. Winning is the only shot.” She looks at me sadly. “For both of us. I like you, Amena, but I need to win this. No hard feelings.”

  I place the fruit tart on the altar and pull Rinari down to kneel beside me. “Then we’d better pray. Chysa is the head of the gods, so she must be able to pass a prayer on to the others. We’ll ask her to get us help from everyone she can.”

  She laughs like she doesn’t believe me, but she smiles and lifts her hands in prayer with me. “I guess it can’t hurt to try.”

  We both pray, but I keep a close eye on Rinari to make sure she doesn’t snap again. She seems like she’s still holding resentment over the results of her Choosing Day. Many people don’t end up where they want—which is one reason the rebellion is growing. But I don’t think she’s joined the rebellion, because she has recognized none of the coded signs that Deryt or I used.

  And if she’s getting desperate, I’m afraid of what she might do.

  Bymonten was right about the final concert coming up fast. The week in Olona is twice as bust as the last one. Besides our usual rehearsal schedule, there’s press events every day—interviews with radio shows, meet and greets with fans, posing for photographs in the newspaper.

  The showcase comes up so fast I don’t have time to feel nervous. The audience already knows “Road to Freedom” and “The Goddess’s Guide to Love,” so they sing along with me. Since there’s enough time for each of us to sing one extra song, I write another catchy pop song called “Kiss! Kiss! Bang! Bang!” and the crowd loves it.

  But despite my mentioning Qachmy at every chance I get, and praying to her at a private altar I set up in my room, Uqra is restless and unhappy. I find her anxious one night in my hotel room, pulling out her feathers.

  I glare at the bird. “What do you want from me? I’m doing everything I can for the goddess! You trying to make me feel bad by punishing yourself?”

  Uqra scratches at her neck with her talons and shakes her head. “No, it’s not you.” Her head whips around, as if she heard some noise.

  I turn and look to see what she’s staring at, but I can’t hear anything and so far as I can tell, she’s just looking at the empty wall. I step closer, my hand out to soothe her. “Are you okay?”

  “No!” she snaps, jerking away from me. “This city feels wrong. I can’t put my foot on it, but there’s something terrible here. I’ll feel better when we can get out.”

  I gather up her discarded feathers and throw them in the trash bin. “Try not to go bald before then, okay? Just a few more days.”

  Which means I have almost no time to write my ballad. I carry my notebook around with me everywhere these days, ready in case inspiration strikes, but I can’t think of anything worthy of winning Star Search. This has to be perfect or I’m toast.

  Then the night before the final concert, I have a dream about Mama. Nothing special—I’m just back in the kitchen with her while she makes dinner, talking about her students at the school. It’s so mundane, but I feel like I’m there.

  I wake up with a start and see the dimly lit hotel room around me, so different from the room I share with Mama back home. A wave of homesickness washes over me. Tears well up in my eyes.

  But then I look over and see my songwriting notebook sitting empty on the nightstand. I can use this pain.

  I reach for a candle and my hand touches the lamp. The faintest brush of my hand brings the sunstone to life, filling the room with the warm, golden light of the sun stored inside. So much luxury here. This was the life Mama had before me.

  I take up the pen and write as fast as I can.

  The night of the final concert, I feel strangely calm. I stayed up half the night finishing my ballad, but Bymonten’s strong tea has given me energy and the make-up team covered the dark circles under my eyes. I haven’t had time to sing this song for anyone yet. I gave the sheet music with the melody to Bymonten and he got the musicians to come up with a simple arrangement. I know I’m ready.

  There’s no dance this time or elaborate outfit, just a long gown with my hair hanging loose around my shoulders. I step out onto the empty stage lit with a single spotlight on me and wait for the opening notes to play. Magic courses through me, almost out of habit but I know I won’t need it.

  I close my eyes and picture Mama. The bells chime my simple music. I sing as the guitar plays softly.

  Night comes and I can’t sleep,

  I’m still thinking of you…

  A stillness comes over the concert hall, unlike my previous performances when people clapped and sang along. Now it feels like everyone’s holding their breath. I can’t look at them or I’ll break down. I look up into the darkened rafters and pour my heart out.

  “You’ve always scolded me.” I remember all our arguments about my future. The way she acted like she knew what was best for me. How she never listened to what I wanted.

  The music builds up to the chorus.

  Because I’ll always love you,

  Even if it’s your fault

  It hurts,

  But it’s okay if it hurts

  I take a deep breath during the instrumental break after the chorus. The magic is the only thing keeping me together. The next verse is even sadder, about the distance between us and how I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. When I mention my tears, I can feel them threatening to choke my throat.

  “I love you just the way you are,” I continue. I hope that somehow, Mama can hear this song and know that it’s for her. She might never forgive me for running away but at least she could understand that I still care about her.

  I finish the final chorus. “But it’s okay if it hurts.” The music fades away.

  The entire hall is silent.

  Oh, no. This was a terrible idea.

  I glance at the judges. Nysa is crying into her handkerchief, Osev is gripping the edge of the table, and even Dunruis looks like he’s struggling to keep his emotions in check.

  The audience cheers, and the applause builds into a crescendo, with everyone leaping to their feet. Even the judges stand up and clap.

  “I love you, Amena!” a girl screams from the front row.

  “Amena!” someone else cries out.

  The call goes out across the hall. Everyone is chanting my name. “Amena! Amena!”

  I look around, wishing I could meet the eyes of everyone in the crowd. They all mean so much to me. I don’t know how to express the swell of emotion, so I sweep them a bow.

  Finally, the judges lift their hands for quiet and the audience settles down. The judges take their seats and make a show of arranging their notes, but I don’t think they’ve written a single word.

  “Wow,” Nysa says, dabbing at her eyes again. “That’s a side of you we’ve never seen before.”

  Osev nods. “We asked for an emotional song, and you delivered.”

  I find my voice again. “Thank you,” I whisper into the microphone.

  Dunruis shakes his head. “You even got me. Well done.”
He chuckles. “I have to say, though, I feel sorry for your girlfriends. You’ve shown you can be a real heartbreaker.”

  My face turns red. I don’t know how to respond.

  “It’s true, all of your songs have had a strong romantic theme.” Osev raises his eyebrows at me. “Could they be inspired by recent events in your life?”

  A screen flickers on behind me and the crowd gasps. I turn around and look up.

  A photograph is being projected onto the screen: a candid shot of Rinari and me holding hands in front of the Crystal Temple. Rinari is looking at me with excitement, and I’m smiling back at her like an idiot.

  Oh my gods. How could I have missed someone with a camera pointed at us? My blush deepens as my whole body warms up. I’m very exposed right now in a low-cut gown with my shoulders bare.

  “Hey, we know that girl!” Nysa leans forward. “How does it feel to fall in love with your competition? Don’t you feel bad for trying to beat her?”

  Dunruis chuckles again. “You’ve made it this far together, but tonight only one of you can win.”

  I don’t want to hear anything else. I run off the stage, blocking my ears against their mockery.

  And almost run straight into Rinari. She was standing behind the curtain and watching the whole thing. Her face is pale and frozen in shock.

  I reach for her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh!” the stage manager cuts me off with a wave of his hand. We can’t talk here.

  I take a step closer and drop to a whisper. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  Rinari pulls away, not looking at me. “I have to go on.”

  I didn’t realize her turn was right after me. I watch as she adjusts her outfit a final time, plasters a fake smile on her face, and struts past me to the stage.

  I’ve already done too much to disrupt her performance, so I can’t stay and watch. I hurry off and hide in the green room.

 

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