Nexus

by Sasha Alsberg

Hearing that our and knowing he was just as determined to save Lira, Gilly and Breck made Andi’s heart warm. She met his eyes and mouthed, “Thank you.” He smiled in return.

  Soyina nodded, plucking a potato from Andi’s plate.

  She ignored Andi’s glare. “I understand that you want to save them—we all want to save someone. Or kill someone, depending on who you ask. Am I right, Baroness?”

  Andi didn’t answer, so Soyina winked and continued. “But in order to save them, we need to pave a path. If you help us pave that path, I can’t make any promises, but I bet Klaren would be more than happy to help our dear general.”

  Andi ate her last forkful of food, pushing her empty plate toward Soyina. “Then let’s not keep her waiting.”

  CHAPTER 23

  NOR

  Time felt frozen as Nor sat by the fireplace in her quarters, staring into the flames.

  Days ago, she’d done this very same thing, the weight of too many worlds pressing down upon her shoulders. The fire had failed to warm her then, but at least Zahn had been there to do so.

  And now, despite the constant tending of the fire...she knew it wouldn’t warm her, wouldn’t erase the chill from her bones. She feared nothing ever would again.

  BANG.

  Nor flinched, remembering the sound of the gunshot.

  BANG.

  She would never forget the horrific, muffled cry that had come from Zahn, the blood that had sprayed as the bullet hit him square in the chest and he toppled against her, falling to the city streets.

  A queen was not supposed to feel such weakness.

  And yet here Nor sat, feeling as if she were weakness incarnate.

  Her heart, gone. Her kingdom, frozen, as she awaited the arrival of Androma Racella.

  And her brother, her greatest ally in Mirabel, was the cause of Zahn’s death.

  Nor closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cushions. Grief was a tricky thing, a rocky sea she had been forced to navigate many times before. She’d learned to turn grief into something different. To twist the sadness into hatred, a burning desire for revenge against whoever had caused the feeling in the first place.

  But how could she hate her brother?

  The doorway between their minds was as cold as her bones. Empty of Valen’s presence, as if he were too afraid to even approach it.

  I saved you, he’d whispered, as he fell to his knees before her in that loading dock.

  And he had. That, Nor knew, was a fact she couldn’t ignore. Valen had made a snap decision to save his queen, as any of her subjects would have.

  Yet a part of her wished he hadn’t. For what was life without Zahn?

  It was all she’d ever known. Zahn at her side, Zahn guarding her back, Zahn curled up beside her in their bed...

  A knock on her door pulled Nor from her thoughts.

  She didn’t answer, willing whoever it was to leave her alone in her misery, but the door opened anyway, a sliver of light from the hallway accompanying the new arrival.

  “My dear niece,” Darai said softly, shutting the door behind him as he swept inside. “I cannot bear to see you in such pain.”

  Nor sighed deeply. “I didn’t give you permission to enter. I said I wanted no visitors, and that includes you.”

  But Darai simply frowned, looking about the room. “It’s dark as pitch in here.”

  “I don’t want the light,” Nor said.

  She wanted darkness, embraced it.

  An atmosphere to mirror the emptiness she felt inside.

  Her uncle tsked in response, gingerly taking a seat beside her on the couch. “The Exonians would disagree with that statement. Such darkness, always. They long for the light.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m not in Exonia right now,” Nor said coldly. “What do you want, Darai?”

  “I came to check on my niece, who is grieving.”

  She froze at those words. The sudden softness in his voice.

  It wasn’t often that Darai blurred the lines between uncle and adviser. But when he chose so, Nor knew it was best to just let him be. He was her family, even if they weren’t bound by blood, and one allowed family certain freedoms on occasion—even queens.

  She also didn’t have the energy to convince herself otherwise right now.

  “Zahn was a good man,” Darai said, placing his hands in his lap. “A good soldier, too, but an even better man.”

  “Don’t speak of him as if he’s gone,” Nor whispered, and suddenly she was crying again. “Not yet.”

  Darai reached out, slowly, and took her hand. The gesture was awkward; something he hadn’t done since Nor was a child, when Darai had sat for hours at her bedside, bargaining with the Godstars to bring her back to health after the destruction of Xen Ptera.

  “Did you know,” he ventured, “that your mother made me promise her two things when you were born?”

  Nor shook her head.

  “The first was that I would always look out for you, that I would guide you and advise you and teach you the ways of Exonia, and about your true lineage, until the end of my days.” He squeezed her hand, reminding her briefly of their true mission.

  Her purpose, at least, still remained, though the task seemed more daunting than ever without Zahn.

  “The second was that I would never lie to you,” Darai said. He reached out, gently, and lifted her chin with his hand, guiding her gaze toward his. “You are still the queen, my dear. And a queen cannot crumble. Not even beneath the weight of grief.”

  Nor blinked back her tears, staring into her uncle’s eyes, realizing she never really had before. Not since she was a girl, and he was first teaching her how to use her compulsion. Reminding her that though her body would be weak while she healed, her mind was still strong.

  “You will not sulk in this room any longer,” Darai said matter-of-factly.

  Nor blinked. “Sulking? I’m mourning, Uncle. That’s hardly the same thing.”

  He shook his head, still holding her gaze. His eyes were Exonian gold, so very close to the same shade as Nor’s. “Zahn will not be forgotten. We’ll honor him, when this war is over. We’ll give him a warrior’s funeral and adorn the entire estate in gold.”

  Nor shook her head, tears coming again as she thought of letting him go, truly. She didn’t want to think of that now. “We can’t—”

  “We must.” Darai said it like a command, his voice hard. Very few times, he’d spoken so openly to her. He saved such moments for when it mattered most. And tonight, as he watched her, holding her hand tight, as if he was begging her to come out of her stupor of grief... Nor realized that maybe she needed her uncle’s harshness. And maybe she wasn’t fully alone in this.

  “Tonight, my dear, you need to put your mind on something else,” he told her. “You need a reminder of what’s at stake. Zahn was at your side during that attack, not because he had to be, but because he wanted to be. He believed in you and your mission. He believed in you ruling Mirabel and Exonia, the rightful queen of both. Do not let his death be in vain.”

  Nor nodded, holding on to his words.

  They pained her, for they revealed the truth.

  Zahn was dead.

  And he wasn’t ever coming back.

  “How?” Nor breathed. “How do I go on?”

  “By putting your mission ahead of your heart,” Darai said. “It’s what your mother would have done. It’s exactly what she did, when she left you on Xen Ptera and flew to Arcardius at Cyprian’s side.” He smiled gently at her. “That’s the real reason why I came to speak to you. Because I fear that your heart is going to get in the way of your mission. And if I allow that, Nor, then I will have failed just as your mother failed.”

  Those golden eyes shimmered in the firelight. “You’re strong, Nor. You always have been. You’ve ruled over a dying
planet, giving hope to your people when they needed it most. And in the face of adversity, you cleverly united with Valen and used his power to rise up. And I know you will not stop, not even after this. You will complete your mission, and I will help you do it. Together, we’ll complete what Klaren started, so that Zahn’s death will be a most worthy sacrifice. And that, I believe, is one of the greatest gifts he could ever have given you.”

  Nor’s tears began to slow. She took a deep breath, letting his words fill her with...something. Anything but the grief she felt. And for a moment, she believed she could rise. That she could get off this couch, and make something of herself again.

  But then she felt the absence in her mind.

  The empty doorway, where Valen’s warm presence normally resided.

  “Valen,” Nor said, pulling her gaze from Darai. “What am I supposed to do about him?”

  She was desperate for an answer. For Darai to simply decide for her, because the pain she felt, when she thought of his actions...

  What little was left of her heart split down the middle.

  “I both hate him and love him at once,” she said as she glanced at the fire again, the flames looking angrier than before.

  Darai swept his hands down the front of his dark robes. “That is the very issue I came to discuss. I fear that the bond between the two of you will never be repaired. Not fully.”

  Nor kept replaying the events of the attack in her mind. “He killed Zahn,” she said softly. “Not by choice...but he set into motion what was the killing blow.”

  Darai nodded. “He did what he had to do to save you. For that, I am eternally grateful... And that is why it pains me to say this, Nor. It pains me deeply.” He huffed out a breath. “In Exonia, we believe that only life can pay for life. That when one person wrongs another, someone must pay the price.”

  “As you’ve said,” Nor remembered. It was the reason why she’d wanted Cyprian dead. Why she would have brought him back only to kill him again a hundred thousand times, to pay for all the Xen Pterrans who’d perished during the Cataclysm, including her own father.

  “And since I have always upheld the Exonian ways—and helped you to uphold them, too, as your mother made me promise—then I fear the only way we can solve this issue is to do what we have always done. To hold fast to our beliefs.”

  Nor wasn’t sure where Darai was going with this. But her insides began to feel prickly.

  “I do not advise such a decision lightly, but... Valen must pay for Zahn’s death,” Darai said. “It’s the only way you will ever be able to truly forgive him and move on with your mission as queen of both Mirabel and Exonia.”

  Nor blinked, not quite believing her uncle’s words. “I...I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  They’d built this kingdom upon Valen’s compulsion. His power was unbelievably strong, far stronger than any Darai said he’d seen before, during his upbringing in Exonia. It was because of Valen’s power that they were even on Arcardius now.

  “You wish to punish Valen?” Nor asked incredulously.

  “Not punish.” Her uncle pursed his lips together, considering his words. “Would you help me stand, my dear?”

  Nor nodded and assisted her uncle as he got to his feet, breathing heavily. They walked over to the fire together and watched the flames flicker in silence. There were stars carved on the back wall of the fireplace, intricate little designs made by a steady hand.

  “Your brother’s power is like a flame, burning bright,” Darai said, gesturing toward the fire. “The brightest I’ve ever seen. A true marvel, Valen is. But when we arrived here, and we began to spread his compulsion across the galaxy...”

  He reached for the ornate key embedded in the wall beside the fireplace. He twisted it counterclockwise, pulling back on the gas that kept the fire burning bright. The flames quickly dimmed, dousing the room in near-darkness. “He is weakening before our very eyes,” Darai told her quietly. “With every mind he compels, every person he adds to his mental fortress...his body is fading, Nor. I know you’ve seen it, too.”

  Nor thought of the blood trailing from Valen’s nostrils. His rapidly declining weight. The way his hair, once full, had gone lank and greasy. And when she couldn’t find him, when he wasn’t in his mind castle, he was often asleep. Resting, so he’d be able to function the rest of the time.

  “It will not be long before he breaks under the strain,” Darai said.

  Nor closed her eyes, swallowing back another round of tears. She still loved Valen, even with the death of Zahn on his hands. “How long?”

  “A matter of weeks, I believe,” Darai said.

  Nor gasped, horror filling her. “Truly?”

  Her uncle nodded sadly, his eyes downcast.

  “But Aclisia is working around the clock to come up with a way to put his compulsion into the Nexus satellite,” she said. “And once we can do that, the satellite itself will carry the brunt of the weight, and Valen’s mind will be free. His body will be able to heal. That was always the plan.”

  Darai looked at her again, those lips pursed as if he were holding back a secret.

  “Nor... You must believe my words,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I have...held certain fears to myself lately, until I could be certain.”

  “Certain of what?” Nor asked.

  Her uncle frowned. “Valen will likely not survive long enough for Aclisia to connect his compulsion to Nexus. Already he is almost too weak to stand—today, he could not walk, after you parted. He is now in the medical wing, being assessed, but... Nor, my dear, it’s inevitable. Your brother will soon die. I have seen such things, long ago, in Exonia. And when he does...all will be lost.”

  “So then what can we do?” Nor asked desperately. “What are you saying?”

  That horrible numbness, the emptiness, was creeping over her again. It ran through her, cold and bitter and all too familiar, after the events of the past day.

  Her uncle’s gaze held hers, golden as the sun. “We need his mind, Nor.”

  “But what does that mean?”

  “We must plug his mind, his very essence, into the satellite. It’s the only way.”

  Nor took a step back, horrified at the very idea. But Darai held fast to her hand, as if he’d known what her reaction would be. As if he’d suddenly gained a strength he didn’t have before.

  “It is the Exonian way,” he said.

  And Nor’s chest ached.

  Because she was horrified, still.

  But she knew, without a doubt, the moment he’d uttered the words that they were true.

  “I have kept the two promises I made your mother,” Darai said quietly, that strength suddenly gone as fast as it had come. “I have always guided you in the way of the light, and I have never lied to you. So I will not lie to you now, and say there’s a different solution.”

  Nor nodded, stepping back to give herself space to breathe as she took it all in. “How?” she asked. “How would it be done?”

  “We would wait until the satellite construction is complete,” Darai explained carefully. He, of all people, knew the delicacy of the situation. How it was killing Nor on the inside to even hear this plan. “I don’t feel we should tell him, so as not to ruin his final days. When it is time, we can...ease him into it. Aclisia is fashioning a throne, of sorts—a place where Valen will sit, and his body will be nurtured, plugged into a series of tubes and wires meant to keep it alive for eternity.”

  Nor could see it all too clearly in her mind.

  It made her sick.

  But as her uncle spoke, she also understood the necessity of the plan. She heard the pain in his voice—he knew, just as much as she did, that Valen would be the ultimate sacrifice to free Exonia.

  “We will also plug his mind into that device,” Darai explained. “We will essentially upload his consciousness, and
all that Valen is and does, into the satellite. He will feel no pain. He will simply become the Nexus, and the Nexus will become him, and then the galaxy will forever be beneath his compulsion. He will never lose control. You will reign, and your future children will reign, and Mirabel and Exonia will forever be yours.”

  Nor was breathless. She found herself sinking back onto the couch, Darai still clutching her arm, but this time he was the one supporting her.

  He watched her intently. “I wish there was another option, my dear. But there is none.” Darai nodded firmly. “Say the word, and I will give Aclisia a direct order to speed up her side work in completing the device.”

  It was too much.

  All of this was happening far too quickly for Nor to process.

  “He is dying, Nor,” Darai pressed. “And when he is gone, all hope of saving the Exonians will be gone, too.” He patted her hand, the way he once had, long ago. “A life for a life. You will be able to forgive Valen when he becomes a sacrifice, the same as Zahn. It will be a gift to him, that forgiveness from you. And he will die not as a failure, but as a savior. A worthy end, for a Solis.”

  The truth out, Nor and Darai sat in silence. After a time, she cleared her throat and spoke. “I will think on it.”

  “My dear...” Darai sighed, shaking his head at her.

  “No.” Nor glanced back at the flames, still low and dying out. It pained her greatly to even consider his plan. And yet the pain of having lost Zahn, the rift between her and Valen, forever to remain because of his hand in Zahn’s death...and his health, already declining, his obvious fate...

  The choice was all too clear.

  Still, she would not make it now. “I will give you an answer soon, Uncle. I promise.”

  He nodded without words, as if he didn’t trust himself to contain his disappointment. Or perhaps he was lost in his own pain over the choice they would have to make, as she was.

  “There is still the matter of Arachnid to discuss,” he said, changing the subject. “The attack was great, the casualties many. We must make a move while you decide what to do about Valen’s fate. We have also had no word from Androma Racella. Of course, we cannot be sure she saw the announcement, but surely she has heard news of the attack. Perhaps we should consider sending a second message, from within these walls, to let Arachnid know you will not falter, and to let Androma know you will carry out your threat if she doesn’t comply.”