Zenith

by Sasha Alsberg

  He respected her coldness, her short temper, the way she spoke to him—because it made her stronger.

  Darai believed that love was a weakness.

  He never wished for her to show him her softer side. The few times she had growing up, he’d punished her for it. And so she gave him exactly what he desired. The cold queen, rather than the tormented, injured child she’d once been.

  After several long minutes, Nor asked, “Do you remember that insipid little creature my father gave me as a gift on my seventh birthday?”

  Darai nodded with a small smile. “The feathered Indriga. It followed you around the palace as if it were starved for attention. Your constant shadow.”

  “It was loyal to me from the start,” Nor said. “And do you know why, Darai?”

  His silence was answer enough.

  “I fed it,” she explained. “Give a pet food, Darai, and it will do anything to stay by your side. Starve it or beat it, and it will begin to fear your very existence, only coming out of hiding in the moments when you have something to give and it to take.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  Nor closed her eyes and pinched the space between her brows, a headache brewing from the exposure to the polluted air outside her tower. Her uncle was growing dim in his old age. Lately, she had begun to outgrow him, seeking his guidance less and less. “The people of Xen Ptera are my responsibility now. But more than that, they are my soldiers, and I wish for them to follow me always. No matter how dark the path I choose to walk upon.”

  “Wise words, my queen,” Darai said with a bow of his head. “A ruler is only as strong as her army. Your father used to say the very same thing.”

  “His army was weak,” Zahn said, rejoining the conversation. He looked at Nor as if she were a goddess. “Hers will be the strongest this planet has ever seen.”

  She took his words to heart and reminded herself to reward him later, in her private quarters. Together, they looked down upon the crowd of people still following below.

  Nor slid the curtain closed as the hover moved on.

  She knew her people were struggling to survive, but she couldn’t allow herself to think about their pain when there were bigger plans in the making. Her people were resilient, capable of surviving the very worst betrayals from the other cursed systems in Mirabel.

  She had to fortify herself against the past in order to bring about the future. Today was the mark of a new start. Today, she would call her Xen Pterrans to arms.

  When her plan came to fruition, they would cheer her name in these desolate streets, knowing they would soon be free.

  * * *

  Nor’s carriage slid to a stop at the base of a mountain of rubble. Years ago, a glistening, pristine black-and-red spired palace stood in its place. As she took in the sight of the destruction, memories flooded her senses.

  Rubble crushing her arm. Blood dripping into the dust. Nor’s father beside her, his screams dying out as the weight of the palace stole his last breaths.

  Somewhere in the sky, an explosion rocked the world.

  A voice from the past called out to her, keeping her conscious.

  “Nor, my sweet Nor. You were meant for so much more than this...”

  “Are you ready, Nor?” Darai asked now, his voice pulling her back into the present as he motioned her toward the door. Outside the curtain, she could see her people—thousands of them crowding in to stand amid the wide expanse of debris.

  This very place used to be the palace courtyard, so vibrant with life that on the sunnier days, her eyes had ached to look upon it. She remembered running through the gardens here. Laughing as her father chased her, the ever-blooming Nhatyla flowers changing colors with each season. They were the only flower that never died with the cold. In winter, when all else faded, they grew the brightest, a purple so deep it rivaled a nebula.

  Such colors no longer existed on Xen Ptera. Nor’s personal guard, dressed in bold red uniforms, were scattered amid the crowd, the only bright shade aside from her gown. It reminded her of the blood that once pooled in these crumbling streets, the fires that burned after the bombs were dropped on thousands of innocents.

  “Majesty?” Darai stood before her, holding out his veined hand. “It is time.”

  She pulled the skirts of her gown away from her ankles and stepped out of the carriage under her own strength onto the slab of rock that would act as a stage while she addressed her people. A silver microphone stood ready to amplify her words.

  Nor stopped before it. Her breath carried out across the crowd. Thousands of bodies were packed in around the ruins of the palace. Voices hummed throughout the crowd, pleading with her to feed them, clothe them. Mothers lifted their infants overhead, begging their queen for salvation.

  There was a reason Nor rarely left her tower. Standing here, so close to the chaos and destruction, her silk shoes standing atop the bones of her past... A weaker woman would have bent and broken. Xen Ptera was her home, and the citizens were living, breathing pieces of the whole—and each of them was falling apart little by little.

  Soon there would be no life left in this desolate place.

  The screams got louder as she stood there, looking out at the throngs of people below. This was the future of Xen Ptera. This was her army.

  Weak.

  Ruined.

  She needed to give them strength, and strength was nothing without hope.

  She took another deep breath. In, out; steady and true.

  Sway them. Make them join you.

  She smiled.

  This was what she was made for.

  Nor raised her arms, her golden fist gleaming in the dying light. As if on command, the crowd hushed.

  “My fellow Xen Pterrans,” Nor said in a voice that radiated power. “Our planet is dying—this we have known for the past century. For far too long we have sat in silence, waiting for our planet’s end. When we tried to take action, our galaxy betrayed us. And so began the war.”

  The crowd shouted in agreement as she continued. “My mother was taken captive during The Cataclysm. For years, she was a prisoner of Arcardius. Alone, my father tried to help our planet, but instead he was crushed beneath the weight of the Unified Systems, like so many others in the final battle.” Nor paused, taking a breath. “I come to you today, standing upon his grave. Standing in the exact spot where my own body was marred.”

  Silence, marked by a few scattered coughs. A wailing child.

  They were without hope. They had no desire to fight; could not be lifted up by their queen’s words.

  For a moment, fear gripped Nor like an icy fist. She would fail. She would not become the leader she had always hoped to be. She would end up just like her father, a ruler who died with no honor. No victory. Only shame.

  She looked to the edge of the crowd, searching for a way out. But Zahn caught her eye and nodded encouragingly. Beside him, Darai stood watching. She remembered his words to her after her father’s funeral, as the two of them stood atop her tower, acid rain trickling from the sky.

  You will become what he could never be, Nor. I will stay by your side until I see that become truth.

  She breathed deeply, her lungs aching from the tainted air as she looked down at her golden prosthetic.

  It was a shield. One she could no longer hide behind. Not if she wished to be seen, truly seen, by her people.

  One by one, Nor undid the latches that held the prosthetic in place, each pop like a gunshot in the microphone.

  One shot. Two shots. Three.

  The golden hand fell away, and the outside air washed across her skin, causing her to flinch. Where her true hand used to be, only an angry stump covered in swollen red welts and scars remained.

  She lifted her arm high, ignoring the impulse to bury it within the folds of her gown.

  �
�I stand before you, Xen Pterrans, not as your queen...but as your equal.” The lie slipped like a delicious poison from her lips. If this was what they needed to hear, she would speak it. “I was broken here as a child, born in the trenches of the war that left us all shattered. For years, I have battled with the wounds of my past. Just as you have.”

  Thousands of eyes stared back. Scars and burns and limbs healed wrong—some limbs missing altogether.

  But they were listening. She could see it in the widening of their eyes. Feel it, in the palpable anger and pain that seemed to sweep across the crowd among the whispers.

  Her ruined arm still in the air, Nor continued. “I stand before you, marked by the destructive ways of our enemies, and tell you...no longer will I bow to pain and fear. No longer will I allow myself to cower when I hear my enemy’s name. You deserve a leader who will rise above. You deserve a queen of blood and rage.”

  Shouts of agreement began to spread throughout the crowd.

  “The Unified Systems think themselves strong, and us weak. For many years we have allowed this to be true. But now is the time to strike, to send a message that we still remain. That we are stronger than they believe.”

  Rage flowed through her, hot and furious.

  “I ask you now, Xen Pterrans...will you join me?”

  She lifted her arm higher, and allowed her voice to soar, rising above the cries of her citizens. “The Unified Systems think we are defeated, but we have only just entered the fight. I am calling upon you now to rise up with me against an evil that has been waiting too long for our vengeance. They deserve to share our pain. They deserve to share our desolation, to see their streets flow like a river with their betraying blood!”

  The crowd roared, continuing to grow in size as others joined Nor’s audience.

  “This is the turning point in a war that never ended. For fifteen years we have sat in silence, but soon the galaxy will hear our cry.” The citizens began to shout for revenge, for salvation, for blood.

  She turned to Darai, lifting her chin in a proud nod as the people roared.

  He shuffled over, a small silver box cradled in his palms. He bowed before kneeling, the box held before Nor. The lid flipped open with an audible pop. Inside, nestled on a plush cushion, was a small vial of softly glowing silver liquid.

  Nor took it in her remaining hand, lifting it up for the crowd to see.

  She waited until their voices fell to a hush.

  “The fruits of our labor have been harvested,” Nor said. “The contents of this vial will bring the Unified Systems to its knees. This is the final piece in a plan that has been in the works for years, and finally it is time to unleash its power upon our foes. Xen Ptera is the shoreline of a new ocean ripe for the taking. This galaxy—every planet in every system outside of Olen—is about to be swept up by our revenge.” Nor paused, looking out at the thousands gathered before her. They looked at her with wide eyes full of hope, something that had once been lost beneath the weight of years of struggling.

  With pride in her heart, Nor belted one last line. “Remember, Xen Pterrans, and never forget, that even the stars can bleed!”

  The roar of the crowd was deafening as she placed the vial back into its box, lifted her train and strode back to the carriage.

  Their cries followed her as she gracefully climbed inside.

  They remained as Zahn and Darai joined her and the carriage took to the skies.

  “A true show, my dear,” Darai said as they left the rubble of the palace behind. Tears glistened in his black eyes. “What next?”

  “We will proceed with Zenith,” Nor replied. She glanced out the curtained window, smiling as her people pushed and shoved in the streets below, desperate to be close to her as she soared toward her tower. “And have a crown forged for me,” she added.

  “A crown?” Darai asked.

  “Every queen needs one,” Nor said, sliding her hand along Zahn’s thigh as she watched her people celebrate in the streets. “I want to wear it while we feast on the galaxy’s bones.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  * * *

  LIRA

  LIRA HAD ALWAYS been one with the skies.

  Adhira, a planet terraformed into extremes, had taught her to love living a life without having her feet on the ground.

  The ground was a confusing place, with limits and laws.

  The skies offered nothing but endless freedom.

  They had everything to give, and demanded nothing in return.

  And yet, being back on Adhira...

  Home, Lira thought as she stood in the rock temple atop the mountain fortress of Rhymore, the centermost point of the terraformed world.

  It had taken the transport wagon two hours to drag the ruined Marauder here from the crash site, another hour of explaining to Queen Alara’s Sentinels what had happened and another after that to finally find a moment to escape from the girls once they’d settled into a guest wing deep inside the mountain.

  Their questions and the concerned looks they cast Lira’s way were too much for her already fragile emotional state to handle.

  She needed a moment to settle herself again.

  To rediscover her peace.

  She’d slipped away from her crew while they ate lunch, walking past Dextro and Alfie as they patched in a call to General Cortas. She’d been surprised when Dex had looked up and asked her how she was feeling—she wouldn’t have believed him capable of such courtesy. She’d given him a small, stunned smile in return before slipping away.

  Finally, after remembering her way through the winding tunnels of the mountain and climbing a set of stairs so tall Lira thought her legs might combust from the strain of her burning muscles, she’d made it to her destination.

  Now here she stood, at the very top of Rhymore. Catching her breath, drinking sweet water from a polished red rock basin in the center of the towering temple and admiring the early afternoon view that she’d missed the most since leaving this planet four years ago.

  Though the temple was small, with only room enough for a few bodies at a time, Lira found it the most spacious place in the world. Nothing but the four rock columns and the waist-high ledge stood between her and the sky, and Lira’s view was endless.

  From here, she could see all of Adhira, as far as her eyes could carry her.

  It was here, atop the mountain itself, that Lira had come countless times as a child.

  She’d come when her father passed on to the next life. She’d come when she had her Efflorescence Ceremony, and when she simply wanted to escape from the weight of the world on her shoulders. Here, the mountain had always offered to bear her burden instead.

  It was here, year after year, that a much younger Lira used to sit with a heavy woolen shawl around her shoulders, the cold wind combing across her face, and allow herself to dream.

  A single, massive eyeglass stood empty and waiting in the center of the mountaintop temple. It was made from the very same varillium as the Marauder, acquired long ago in a trade with Xen Ptera.

  Though the varillium was unbreakable, Lira still took care as she pressed her eye to the cold eyepiece.

  A little adjusting, a few swivels and flashes of light, and Lira felt a smile spread across her face.

  Her chest lightened. Her heart raced.

  Although she’d seen this view a hundred times, it still took her breath away. Through the eyeglass, all of Adhira unfurled before her like a perfect, tiny map.

  Heavens above, she’d missed this planet.

  To the north, she could see the emerald expanse that made up Aramaeia, the terraformed rainforest full of monstrous trees, which spread all the way into the clouds and beyond. Inside those trees, entire cities buzzed with life. At Aramaeia’s edge, tucked into the trees, sat the Falls of Amorga. They boomed so loudly that it was impossible to hear anything el
se once you got within half a mile of their location.

  She’d been to those falls. She’d swum in their depths, and explored the Sunken City beyond.

  The wind blew, tickling Lira’s senses. She swiveled the eyeglass to the west, where endless green faded into deep reds and browns. The Sands of Bailet were pocked with giamounds, desert rocks that stood miles tall. The city of Lavada thrived inside the monstrous pillars, where the cityfolk milled about in a series of twisting tunnels. They weren’t the only inhabitants within those pillars. They shared it with vergs, gentle sand-colored creatures whose many eyes helped them see in the depths of the giamounds. They had almost as many legs as eyes, which helped them crawl through the deepest tunnels below ground, not yet inhabited by other Lavadian residents.

  Lira shivered. She’d never been a fan of giant, wriggling bugs.

  She shifted the eyeglass again, fighting against a fresh gust of wind. She adjusted the view until a vision of deep, beautiful blue appeared. The Endless Sea, a world of water that was as deep as it was wide, its people gifted with gills, webbed fingers and toes, able to live beneath the crashing waves.

  And here Lira stood, far away in the sky.

  In the center of it all.

  She loved this place. It was here, standing alone on this very balcony, that Lira first met the greatest loves of her life.

  The sky.

  The stars.

  And the ships that soared through them.

  “Admiring the view?”

  Lira looked up so fast she nearly fell over.

  That voice. How much she’d missed it.

  “You sneaky bastard,” Lira hissed.

  Then she sidestepped the eyeglass and crossed to the other side of the temple in three quick strides, where she threw herself into her twin brother’s arms.

  Lon was older than her by just a few minutes, but he’d never let her forget it. He was the loud, brute strength to Lira’s calm, calculated silence. The one who’d always laughed at her for having her nose buried in the pages of books—and yet, he’d frequently spent his wages on the very best ones he could find to give to her.