“Not exactly,” he smiles, keeping my hand on his chest. I notice the heartbeat beneath my fingers. “I guess it could if you let it. Mild sunburn is just itchy. Still, you have to be careful. One day, I’ll show you.”
I pull my hand back slowly and shake my head. “I’m not sure I would do very well outside.”
“People have lived outside for thousands of years, Tre. It would be a shock at first, but I’m sure your body would get used to it quickly. Like I’m already starting to get used to the cooler temperatures here.”
“Is it very hot outside?”
He nods. “It’s cool now, because it’s only March. But in the summer, the air feels like it’s almost solid with moisture. Humidity. If you come with me, you’ll definitely have to wear different clothes.” His eyes skim my body slowly, not hiding, creating heat wherever they travel.
My fingers stutter along the lines drawn on his forearms, looking for a change in topic. “What are these from?”
His eyes drop to the floor. “They mark things I’ve done for my Tribe,” he says quietly.
“What kind of things?”
“Assignments, missions. Some good. Some not.”
I wonder what things he’s done that are not good, and I feel newly uneasy. What do I really know about this boy?
Needing to break this intruding tension also, I reach into my satchel and pull out the sack of food I’ve brought him. The herbalist catches against it and falls to the floor. Stian retrieves it quickly, saving it from the water.
“What is this?” He flips through the pages, pushing the envelopes back toward the book’s spine.
“An herbalist. It’s a book of medicine.”
He fingers a white envelope. “We have medicine like this too. Plants, seeds. I wonder if they’re the same.” He reads some of the recipes. “I don’t recognize all the names, but I do know a few of these. Do you study medicine?”
“No. My father is a healer. This is his old book. My mother gave it to me because…” I hesitate. “Well, she just thinks it might be useful someday.”
He places the book back in my hands, nodding. “I’m sure it will.” I notice a stray packet, but he bends toward it before I can. Of course it is the cursed Anneslace, and I flush. He reads the title written in Father’s scrawling hand, peeks at the tiny seeds, and glances questioningly at my face. “Is this Queen Anne’s?”
I shrug. “We just call it Anneslace.”
“If it’s the same, I know what it’s for.”
I take the packet from him and glare at it, not meeting his eyes. He is teasing me again, I’m sure of it. Why would a silly young girl have such an herb in her bag? I bend to tuck both seeds and book into a more secure pocket of my satchel. When I straighten, he seems closer than before, and he’s studying me with a shrewd, puzzled look in his eyes.
I know that I need to leave now, unless I want to stay through the entire ministry. And right now the thought of that much more time alone with Stian sends my nerves skittering to my stomach. I decide to go run laps in the training room to calm myself, since meditation is obviously out.
I promise myself I’ll return tomorrow, maybe even in the morning again, before classes, and ask Stian to meet Lexan.
FOURTEEN
Each of our souls travel through space and time to
arrive at a certain time, in a specific location. An individual’s zodiac
tells the story of their time before, during, and after life, such as the
Fates have determined the length and breadth of each life’s thread.
From The Book of Ministry, Foreword
By Head Minister Charles, year 2068
When I hurry through the door to the kitchen, sweaty from running and nearly late for dinner, I am stopped short by the fact that Brenn, Megara, and their two children are sitting around our table with Father and Mother. Although Brenn and Megara are frequent visitors on Sundays, especially after gatherings, we almost never have guests over during the week. I wonder if it has anything to do with what I told Brenn today, and my heart quickens in apprehension.
I take my chair without speaking and look at everyone in turn, ready for an explanation. Father eyes me, silently communicating that I should stay quiet. No explanation comes and the meal progresses with stilted, normal conversation. The adults largely ignore me and the two children, and I feel as though I’ve been abruptly demoted to the kids’ section. I bite back my resentment, resolving not to make a scene, promising myself that I’ll demand answers soon.
This feeling of being left out of something continues after dinner, when Father and Mother move into the living room with Brenn, and Megara stays behind with me as I clean the dishes. She asks me random, unimportant questions about school, Choosing Day, training, and I can’t rid myself of the feeling that she is purposefully keeping me from whatever is going on in the next room. Finally, I excuse myself to the bathroom.
We only have five rooms in our chambers – kitchen and living room on the left, two bedrooms and a bath on the right. The center hallway begins with our front door and connects all the rooms. Slipping into the bathroom, I leave the door cracked, my ear pressed to the sliver of light, hoping to hear some of the conversation from the next room. I am not disappointed.
“Jasson, I’m not comfortable with all of these secrets. Astrea should know more of what is happening. She’s not a child anymore.”
I smile benevolently in Mother’s direction.
“She has made unexpected gains in her training, too,” Brenn says. “She can hold her own in a lot of hand combat, and her knife throwing rivals yours, Chanah.”
I hear my mother giggle, an uncharacteristic sound.
“I’m not necessarily disagreeing with that.” Father sounds annoyed. “But there is too much new information, with Lexan’s power, and now hers emerging. We also don’t know enough of Keirna’s plan to make a decision yet. I don’t want to fill Astrea’s head with speculation. She’s too impulsive. We must wait…after Choosing Day we’ll talk again.”
I hear movement and realize someone is coming my way. I quickly run the water for a few seconds, then open the door. Father is waiting. He only nods, so I dodge around him into the living room. Mother and Brenn sit next to each other on the couch, and their heads are bent close, whispering. She giggles again. I step more heavily than necessary, announcing my entrance. Mother is acting strangely tonight.
“You’ve been talking about me?” I’m tired of playing the game.
Brenn clears his throat, looking guilty. “Well, I was telling your parents that you seem to have discovered your ability. I told them about Aitan’s visit today, and we want to develop a strategy to deal with Keirna when she finds out about your powers.”
“If Aitan knows, Keirna knows,” I sigh.
“I wonder if your ability is the same as Keirna’s,” Father says from behind me, and I startle, wondering when he came back in.
“Keirna’s ability?” This detail also catches me by surprise.
“Of course, you do know she had the injection too, right?” Mother says, her voice unsure. She narrows her eyes at Father, who still stands behind me.
“Well, no, actually. I never even thought about it. Why can’t you people just tell me everything you know, then I’ll tell you what I know, and maybe we’ll have a shot at me staying alive long enough to get partnered to someone I don’t love and save Asphodel from Evil Queen Keirna!” My outburst silences everyone. I hear the children in the kitchen, playing a game with Megara. I glare at each of them in turn, not realizing I’m using my power on them until Mother speaks, her voice slow, as if enchanted.
“You’re perfectly right. We’ve been cowardly and silly, trying to make decisions without all of the information, and without consulting you. I’m sorry. It’s just that, Astrea, I’m so afraid for you!” She stands and pulls me close, her breathing shallow. “I don’t want you to be involved in this any more than you need to be!”
I squeeze her tightly fo
r a second, then pull away. “But Mother, I’m more involved than any of you. No matter what you adults plan or do, at the end of all this, whatever happens will still be up to me. And Lexan. And probably Stian.”
Brenn looks up quickly at the third name, and I realize too late that he hadn’t told them that much. I groan. Father definitely isn’t going to like this. I’ll probably have an armed guard following me at all times after tonight.
Brenn chickens out. “Well, it looks like we’ll have to continue this later. Megara and I have to get the kids home and in bed. Trea, I’ll see you in training tomorrow.”
I glare at him as they leave our chambers, the kids yawning sleepily – evidently I didn’t use my power very well on him. Convincing three people at once to be brave is probably more than I’m supposed to be able to do. This reminds me – Keirna’s power. I glare at Father, but I school my voice to patience.
“Father, you said the abilities have to do with our personality, right? Since Keirna and I have the same birthday, she’s an Aries, too. Wouldn’t her power be the same as mine?”
“Well, not necessarily. We’re not really sure how it works, but even though you are both Ariens, your personalities are slightly different due to the other influences – the year of your birth, for example, or the time of day. Also, you were both born on the cusp between Aries and Pisces. Perhaps she demonstrates more of a Piscean trait in her ability. Unless we see her use it, we may never know what she can do.”
I think about her visit to my classroom, how she held my face and stared me down. That means her power probably works through her eyes also, but what was I supposed to feel? “What if I’ve already seen it? Remember when she came to Vocation Studies? The day I fainted?”
Mother sits forward and glares pointedly at Father. Apparently she’s been kept out of a few secrets too. I can’t help but feel a small satisfaction.
Father sits, his fingers tugging thoughtfully at his curly hair. “Tell me again. What did you feel when she talked to you?”
Mother comes to sit by me on the couch, her fingers smoothing my hair, her quiet presence supporting me.
“If she truly has a cusp zodiac, she could be more like me,” Mother says. “But I see no compassion in Keirna.”
Compassion is a well-known Piscean trait, and one that my mother carries in every action. To my knowledge, though, Keirna has certainly never been known as compassionate.
“But I didn’t feel any braver than normal with her, so I wouldn’t think it’s like mine either,” I say. I feel like my brain is running in circles around an idea, but never quite getting close enough to see it.
“How did you feel? What did you think about?” Father asks again, looking through some pages in the small notebook he has retrieved from his pocket.
I go over the conversation again in my mind. Keirna said she understood my feelings of boredom, and she offered me a way to enjoy being a Leader. She offered me power, independence. Choices.
“She knew what I wanted…” I say slowly, getting closer to the hazy truth.
“Not compassion,” Father sits up straight, “but a similar trait – intuition!”
Mother nods eagerly. “That’s true! Compassion is understanding how people feel, but intuition is understanding what they want!”
“And because she’s First Leader, she can give people what they want,” I finish. This must be it. Keirna looked into my heart, saw what I truly desired, and offered it to me.
Surely that is more powerful than bravery or charm.
We three sit in silence for several seconds, absorbing our new truth. I see my opportunity, and stretch, faking a yawn that quickly turns real.
“I should really get to sleep.”
Mother looks at me sharply. “Not so fast. What about this Stian person? Who is he?”
I sigh. This could take another hour. “He’s just a boy I met last week. I think he might know some things that could help us out, but I have to get him to trust me.” I am sidestepping the truth, hoping that a small amount of it will be enough.
Father is still making notes in his book and just nods his head. Mother looks less convinced, but she only gathers me into a hug.
“Well, you talk to him some more, and maybe we can meet him soon,” she says.
“Sure,” I yawn again, and leave the room before either can change their mind. The impossible thought of Stian coming over for dinner leaves a smile on my face as I drift into sleep, snuggled tightly under the blanket.
FIFTEEN
Our night dreams and the unplanned thoughts of our subconscious should always be regarded with care. Prophecies come in many forms, and there are many true prophets, both known and unknown.
From The Book of Ministry, Second Edition,
Chapter Four: Prophecies
By Head Minister Charles, year 2086
I wake several hours later, sweating and twisted in that same blanket. A few seconds of terror pass as my brain struggles to recognize the difference between dream and reality. Gradually I calm, but the horrible image remains seared behind my eyes when I try to close them again.
I had been dreaming of my Initiation Ceremony, when everyone in my class received their implants. Isa, Garna, and the rest received their tiny onyx balls to mark their zodiac, the pattern spreading across their temples. Lexan and I received the diamond chunks, larger and more painful.
As I lie in bed now, I clearly remember the initial pierce of the implant, then the spreading, aching sensation as the prongs were released into the tissue of my skin. Each piece of the implant was set separately in my face, each chunk of diamond representing one star in the constellation.
I had dreamed of everyone’s whimperings of fear. I dreamed of waiting for the ceremony to begin, restless and frightened and nearly too angry to breathe. But just before I was brought forward, the first of my class, the dream varied from actual events.
I had dreamed of Stian, led forward by three protectors, and forced to sit before Keirna. She laughed cruelly as she brandished the tools for implanting the metal. As I watched, horrified, she pierced the skin, not of his face, but his bare chest, marking an enormous shape, a gruesomely twisted constellation, right over his heart. He cried out, agonized as she pushed the implants deeper into his body, and his blood began to flow freely, his eyes growing panicked as his strength drained from him.
This is the image I can’t erase from the back of my eyelids as I lie terrified in my bed. I have to see him – now, or my heart will burst from fear. My panic from the dream overtakes my rationality and I am up, dressed, and in the corridor before I realize. Carefully I make my way through the darkened halls of Asphodel. It’s nearly two hours until daylight, and I am totally alone in a city of sleeping, happy people.
I enter the cave as quietly as I can, but Stian still wakes immediately, his hand reaching for his knife before his eyes are fully open. He quickly processes that it’s me and moves to rise, but I drop to my knees on his bedroll, my body shaking and cold from the dream, hands still clammy with sweat.
He pulls the blanket from his own shoulders and wraps me tightly, concern lined across his face. Seeing him safe here, eyes cloudy from sleep, I feel silly for coming.
“I…I had a horrible dream, about you. I was afraid it was real…”
“It’s okay, it’s not real, right?” He blinks sleep from his eyes.
I hesitate, even now struggling with my imagination. Why can’t I shake this feeling? I realize I’m staring at his chest. He follows my gaze down, touches his heart. Like before, he pulls my hand toward him, placing my fingers on his shirt.
“See? I’m okay.”
I feel his heartbeat, the heat of his skin warming my fingers. I try a shaky smile, nodding. “Not real.” I let my hand fall but he grabs at it, catching a few fingers.
“It makes me feel better, you know,” he says.
“What does?”
“Seeing that there are things you’re afraid of.”
I wonder if he
recognizes my fear is about him. “I have plenty of fears.”
“Well, it doesn’t show. You’d shame a grown man with your courage, Tre.”
“What are you afraid of?” I ask, then bite my lip. It’s too personal a question, even for someone still holding my hand.
He stares down at his arms and I notice his markings again. I don’t think he’ll answer me. But then he looks up, and I startle when I see my answer written all over his uncertain face.
He’s afraid of me.
“I don’t understand…” I stop. I’m confused why, but when I hold his gaze, I realize that why isn’t important. I just want him to stop being afraid. Then I see the stillness creep into his muscles, his eyes becoming vacant. I hadn’t even realized I was using my power. Not knowing what to expect, I simply send him the idea of courage. His body leans toward mine, that same slow current drawing us together. My eyes tell him that he should show me what he’s afraid to lose.
He moves like fire bursting to life in the darkness, and his kiss is agitated, almost desperate, searching for me like I’m a gasp of oxygen to feed on. As I’m drawn further into his emotion, I wonder how long he’s been wandering without love? I feel my body opening, responding in heartbreaking ways, as though it wants to lie next to him forever, so he will always have a home. In the time it takes for my heart to stutter to a stop, everything changes, like a viewing glass clicking suddenly into focus.
I never expected this.
But unlike with Lexan, I feel like my power is slowly draining from me. I break away abruptly, feeling sorry that I tricked him, and confused at the difference, and unsure why he would be afraid to kiss me in the first place.
“Thank you,” he says, brushing a finger across my cheek.
“For what?” I ask, startled.
“For letting me know it was okay. Your confidence makes a guy nervous,” he smiles, seeming somehow younger as he admits this. “But I could see it in your eyes – you convinced me to take a risk.”
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