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Thirteen Rising

Page 4

by Romina Russell


  “Shhhh,” says Nishi, stroking my hair and holding me tighter to her. “Rho, you’re the bravest, strongest, most fearless person I know—”

  “No, I’m not, Nish! I’m not. I’m foolish and naïve and a coward!” The last word comes out as a shout, and it scrapes my throat.

  But still I can’t lower my volume. “When I was young, my mom trained me to trust my fears, and it’s all I’ve ever done! It doesn’t matter if I leave this place or stay here—either way, my fears always rule me. At least this world is more honest about it!”

  “You’re wrong, Rho. In here, you can only run from your fears. Out there you can face them.”

  Her wisdom reminds me painfully of Stan. He always believed I was strong enough to face my fears, but he never knew he was the source of that strength. Because I never told him.

  I should have been there for him sooner. I stopped being a kid long ago, but I kept expecting Stan to treat me like one, to watch over me and love me and protect me unconditionally. But who was there to protect him?

  “Rho, you couldn’t save him,” says Nishi, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. The way she reads my thoughts reminds me of the way Stan and I used to understand each other’s minds, and my heart hurts so much that I have to gasp to catch my breath.

  “Remember that this was all Aryll’s doing,” she insists.

  “But I’m the reason Aryll screwed with Stan in the first place!” I break free of her hold, and I’m shouting again. “When the Marad surrounded us, I recognized Aryll, and I called him by his name! I should have realized how Stan would react. If he hadn’t known it was Aryll, he wouldn’t have attacked—”

  “Rho, your brother attacked Aryll because he grabbed your mom!” Nishi’s voice rises to match mine. “And if a different soldier had taken her, he would have jumped in just as fast! Stop taking credit for Stan’s death. He died the way he lived—on his own terms—and the only choice you have now is to accept that!”

  Lines suddenly start spiderwebbing across the solarium’s glass walls, like they did in the crystal dome on the day of our concert, and we leap to our feet just as the window shatters.

  Neither of us has a helmet on, so my next breath never comes. Shards of glass slice shallow cuts along my skin and suit as I’m sucked out of the compound and onto the moon’s soundless surface.

  And the instant I leave the solarium, the nightmare changes.

  I’m in a familiar gray room, sitting in a chair, and when I try to move, I realize my wrists and ankles are cuffed. There’s an empty hospital bed before me, stained with pools of blood.

  A woman in white healer’s scrubs has her back to me while she sorts through medical tools on a table.

  “Where are we?” asks a familiar voice.

  I swing my face around in shock to see Nishi sitting next to me. She’s also tied to a chair, and a sense of dread blooms in my stomach, keeping me from answering her.

  The healer turns around, and I start struggling, desperately fighting against my shackles.

  “Rho, what’s wrong?” asks Nishi because she doesn’t know this Riser wears my face now.

  “Welcome back.”

  Nishi snaps her gaze to the healer, and whether it’s the raspy voice or the leering smile, somehow I know she recognizes Corinthe.

  This can’t be happening.

  I can’t bring Nishi into this nightmare.

  “Our time together being almost over,” says Corinthe, holding up an even larger and sharper knife than before, “I wanted one more moment with you to say goodbye.”

  Our time is almost over?

  Suddenly the room begins to shake around us, and Corinthe’s image flickers, like I’m streaming a holo-show through a poor connection.

  This doesn’t seem to be happening within the dream—it’s happening without.

  “One of us is waking up,” says Nishi, our minds arriving at the same realization. “It’s you.”

  “Yes, but you also have a choice,” injects Corinthe, bending over us so we’re eye-level. Her knife is inches from me, reflecting back my terrified face. “You can choose to stay.”

  “Ignore her,” snarls Nishi.

  “Or you can do that,” concedes Corinthe, shrugging. “But if you go . . . she replaces you.”

  Darkness flashes in her familiar pale green eyes. “I’ll take out every moment of your absence on her. Every cut, every wound, every nightmare she suffers will be because of you.”

  My whole body is shivering, and I wish my hands were free so I could punch Corinthe again.

  “Rho, don’t even think—”

  “I’m not going,” I say to Nishi, ignoring Corinthe’s presence beside us. “I’m sorry, I can’t—”

  “You’re playing right into the Sumber’s game!”

  Since I know Nishi won’t let me stay for her, I reach for another reason. “Crompton could have custody of my body right now! The last thing I remember is shooting him at the same time that I got shot, and if he’s still alive, he’s not going to be happy with me—”

  “And if that’s the case, you’ll face it,” she says, speaking over me. “He’s already outed himself, so who knows what his next move will be? You’re needed. And whatever you find when you get back, you’ll be ready for it. I know you will.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t kill her,” says Corinthe, looking at me like I’m being paranoid. “I’ll just bring her right up to the point of death. Every time. That way I can keep her with me forever.”

  The walls around us start to shake again, and this time I feel a forceful pull on my mind, like my thoughts are being vacuumed out of my head.

  “Tick, tock, tick, tock, crab,” taunts Corinthe as the quaking intensifies.

  “I’m staying,” I say out loud, hoping it helps me hang on.

  “Excellent,” says Corinthe as the air settles, and she returns to rooting through the tools on the table, giving us space. Nishi leans closer to me, and I wish our hands were free so I could comfort her.

  “Rho, I don’t have any siblings—Helios, I barely have parents. But you’re more than a sister . . . you’re a part of me. I can’t picture my life without you in it.”

  “I feel the same way—”

  “Before we found each other in the nightmare,” she goes on, her features drawing together like she’s admitting something shameful, “I had given up. I thought I’d be better off in here, where the nightmares aren’t real.”

  She takes a loud breath. “After a while, without the dream of hope, it got harder and harder to hang on to my sanity—on to me. I was alone, and tormented, and tired, and afraid—and then you rescued me.”

  She leans over as far as she can and presses a soft, slow kiss on my forehead. Tears sprout from my eyes. “You reminded me of who I am. Of who we are, and why we’ve committed our lives to this war. For House Cancer. For our classmates. For Deke. We can’t give up.”

  The room shakes for the third time, more violently than before, and Nishi and I press into each other to keep steady. I know my best friend is right—but I also know nothing awaits me in a world without Stanton or Nishi.

  “I swear I’m going to get you out of here, Nish,” I say as we pull apart, my voice sounding strong to me for the first time. “Just hang on a little longer—and if this place starts to feel like too much again, know that I won’t rest until I find you.”

  Her face softens with relief. “I know you won’t, Rho.”

  Corinthe cuts over to us as she realizes what’s happening, and everything begins to flicker like the Sumber is running out of power. “Who’s the monster now?” she shouts as I quit resisting reality, and I feel myself being pulled to the surface.

  “You’ll abandon your best friend to save yourself?” she keeps shouting. “So much for martyrdom, right, Rho? Just remember that for every minute you’re up there
breathing your free air, she’s down here drowning in your nightmares!”

  A dizziness engulfs me, and my surroundings begin to fracture. As the room starts to fade, I hear Nishi cry out in agony.

  “NO!”

  I want to hang on, but I’m too close to consciousness to stall the process, and I try calling out to her, but my voice is gone. The whole scene is slipping through my thoughts, like trying to hold water in my hands.

  I don’t know who, or what, will be waiting for me when I awaken.

  All I know is I have to save Nishi from my nightmares.

  And I have to do it now.

  6

  TICK, TOCK, TICK, TOCK, CRAB.

  I open my eyes to find four unfamiliar faces peering down at me. All are wearing white healer’s scrubs.

  “She’s awake!” says the youngest-looking healer, who’s probably my age—though she’s about a foot taller. “Hi, Rho!”

  “Finally,” says a woman who seems only slightly older, her hair so red it looks like it’s on fire. “Check out her dumb expression, though. Could be a sign of brain damage.”

  “Oh, do be quiet, Kenza,” says the only man in the group. He’s so heavily muscled that he looks like a professional holo-wrestler. I must be on Aries.

  I survey the woman closest to me last, and she smiles down gently. “Welcome back, Wandering Star.” Her voice is soft and soothing, at odds with the static-style white noise buzzing in my mind.

  “Focus on the sound of my voice . . . breathe in deeply, go ahead and inhale, slow and easy, and then exhale, taking your time. Good. Can you feel my hand on yours? Blink for yes.”

  Most of my body is numb, but I start to feel a small pressure on my hand. I blink.

  “Good. Now can you squeeze my fingers?”

  It takes me a while to locate my muscle’s strings, to remember where to pull and what to push to activate my various joints. But I think I manage to move my fingers a little.

  “Good, you’re doing great, Rho. Any moment now, the buzzing in your head will fade, and you’ll be able to think clearly. Take your time, don’t rush, don’t panic. Just remember you’re safe, and you’re awake.”

  When most of the numbness melts, I feel like I’ve just surfaced from a deep dive that lasted days. I blink a few times, and then I clench my hands, one of which is still entwined with the fingers of the woman beside me. “Good,” she says soothingly. “I’m going to raise your backrest so you can sit up.”

  The bed gradually begins to curve, and I carefully shift a little, my muscles sore from lack of use. “You’re on Aries, and you’re among friends,” she goes on.

  “Hysan is going to be so happy!” squeals the youngest of the women, and then she covers her mouth like she’s said something wrong. “Sorry—it’s just, he’s been sitting here, holding your hand around the clock, and—”

  “Th—thank you.”

  My voice is soft and insubstantial, but it’s enough to silence her. I swallow, and the woman holding my hand says, “Would you like some water?” I nod, and the man passes her a glass, which she holds for me as I drink.

  The cool liquid relieves the tightness in my throat, and after a few sips, I ask, “How long was I out?”

  “Almost three galactic weeks,” reports the man.

  “Is there any news on Nishi?”

  No one answers immediately. Then the fiery-haired Ariean asks, “What the Helios is a Nishi?”

  Scowling, I try to get out of bed, but I feel a slight pressure on my arm. “Slow down,” says the woman with the kind voice, as she gently eases me back. “Your friends are in training, but we can summon them here for you if you’d like.”

  The youngest healer leans forward. “I can go get Hysan—”

  “No,” I say, a little too quickly. “I need a moment . . . please.”

  “Of course,” says the older woman. “We’ll give you space to gather yourself. Remember to relax and go slow, okay?”

  I nod, and as soon as they’re gone I look down at the three lightweight metallic disks clinging to my crinkly white gown like they’re magnetized. When I pluck one off, it pulls away easily. It seems to be a noninvasive sensor that reports my vitals to the holographic screens around me, because as I pull each one off, the displays disappear.

  It takes a while to trust my feet to hold my weight. Once I’m finally standing barefoot on the cold floor, I have to lean against the bed for a long moment before I can take my first step. I flash back to the hospital from my nightmares, and part of me wonders whether I’ve actually woken up or if I’m still trapped inside that Sumber.

  Maybe I’ll never know.

  I find my clean Lodestar suit and boots inside the dresser. I strip off the crinkly gown, and when I’m naked, I inspect my reflection in the mirror for any signs of Corinthe’s torture from the Sumber. But all I see are the mostly healed scars on my left arm.

  The Scarab around my wrist is gone and my nails have grown back, but Sirna’s pink pearl necklace still hangs from my neck. I wonder what happened to the other pearl necklace, the one Mom made me a decade ago that Crompton re-created.

  I also wonder what happened to Crompton.

  And Mom.

  I crack open the door once I’m dressed, and I step into a rocky passage that’s not at all what I expected. It reminds me a bit of the Zodiax, and I get the sense I’m underground. So this can’t be Phaetonis; it must be one of the other Ariean planets—Phobos or Phaet—since neither of them has a breathable atmosphere.

  The corridor spills into a high-arched, cavernous space that looks like the hollowed-out inside of a mountain. The balconies of higher levels are illuminated by red bonfires that provide most of the light in the place, and all around me Arieans are marching in different directions, most of them lugging weapons and tools and gear.

  This has to be Phaet—the smallest Ariean planet. We studied it in school because it houses The Bellow, the highest-security prison in the Zodiac, which is built inside a mountain. Most likely, this mountain.

  The House’s Majors—Ariean Zodai—guard The Bellow. Even when the junta of warlords overturned the government and marginalized the Zodai, they left Phaet alone. It’s just a prison planet, and historically, regardless of the power battles happening on Phaetonis, the Zodai have never stopped guarding it.

  From the way the Majors are shuffling back and forth, their red suits covered in soot and scratches and burns, this place feels like an underground forge that’s in the midst of preparing for war. The mountain is so dark and oppressive that I’m immediately depressed about being stuck inside. After all those nightmares, I need to breathe fresh air.

  I need to be outside.

  The giant Arieans pay me no attention as I thread through them, and soon I start to feel a light breeze that doesn’t belong in the depths of a mountain. I follow it down a small, rocky passage, and as the gust grows stronger, I smell sweet notes that make me think of plantlife.

  But when I make it to the end of the hall, there’s only a wall and a burly Major blocking it. “What’s your business here?” he asks in a harsh tone.

  Before I can answer, an assertive voice behind me says, “She’s with me.”

  I turn to see the statuesque Skarlet Thorne, and every muscle in me tightens. Her hair cascades around her flawless face, her skintight red uniform bringing out the enviable curves of her body. She must have been following me.

  The man nods. Then he pulls on a lever, and the whole wall slides down.

  Orange sunlight spills into the cave, and I hold up a hand to shield my eyes. I follow Skarlet onto a stone outcropping that descends to the earth like a long ramp, providing a panoramic view of Phaet. In addition to the giant, golden Helios, there’s a second small sun in the sky that’s ruby red, and it’s the combination of both colors that’s giving everything an orange glare.

  The grass
y horizon holds three large hills, and massive Rams as large as Pegazi graze along the banks of a dozen blue rivulets that wind around the hills and disappear into the surrounding forest. Each of the three hills is topped with a monumental stone fortress.

  “What the hell is going on?” I demand when Skarlet doesn’t volunteer an explanation on her own.

  She chuckles and starts walking down the ramp. I grudgingly follow, annoyed to find myself suddenly dependent on her.

  “Our Zodai terraformed this planet a long time ago.” She’s so leggy that I have to take two steps for every one of hers. “We never told anyone, not even the rest of our House, and since The Bellow is as much as most people ever see of this planet, we’ve been able to keep the forest hidden.”

  “Why?”

  She sighs and slows down to keep pace with me. “Because our people are constantly rising up. In the early days of our House, our Zodai decided we would need a failsafe, and since the Majors have always had control of this planet, they terraformed this place so we’d have a haven and a training ground. Over time, we’ve managed to quietly transfer over the most important pieces of our history here, in case Phaetonis ever falls apart . . . which it very nearly has.”

  I spot a few groups of Zodai spread out along the landscape, but we’re too far to see anyone clearly. Some people seem to be practicing Yarrot, some are speaking in groups, and some are training with weapons. From the range of uniform colors represented, it looks like the whole Zodiac is here.

  “Haven’t you noticed how a lie grows exponentially more powerful over time?” asks Skarlet, her bronze brown skin shimmering in the suns’ light. “When people are repeatedly told the same thing by those in power, they tend to believe it—that is, until a girl raises her voice to prove power wrong.”

  I think she might be complimenting me, but it’s hard to tell since everything that comes out of her mouth sounds like a challenge.

  The stone ramp ends, and as we step onto the grassy ground, I turn around to take in the view behind me. Beyond the towering mountain, the woods seem to grow wild, with trees as tall as starscrapers covered in autumnal foliage. Plumes of black smoke rise over the coppery treetops, like a fire getting out of control.

 

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