Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  “I bet no one even notices these. They could be anywhere. Tiny spies for Hade.”

  He strokes the belly and the same scenario replays on the screen.

  “It must have only captured this small bit. But how did it know what to record? Maybe there’s a way to program it?” he asks. A few more twists and pushes later, he manages to open a compartment on the bird’s back, beneath the wings. Buttons for each letter of the alphabet are there, along with numbers zero through nine, and one that says Enter.

  He presses a key, and the screen changes to a blinking light. The word Command appears, followed by the words Record Arrests.

  “Well, that seems simple enough,” Lexan says. “I guess you can program it to record certain events, like a guard arresting someone.” He presses the Enter key and the words disappear. The bird clicks its beak as though asking for a new command.

  “Try Record Eating,” I offer, since that’s what we’re doing. He types the words in, and sets the bird on the table.

  It clicks and a gear somewhere on its tiny body whirs to life. The head twists left, then right, before the eyes seem to fixate on the food spread before us. I put a piece of roll in my mouth, and the bird’s beak jerks open, showing the red light again. The light blinks twice, then off, replaced by a soft yellow light. I eat another piece of roll, and the bird’s mouth seems to follow my movement.

  Lexan picks up the bird and strokes its belly. The wings click apart and up, displaying the screen, and an image of me eating my roll appears.

  He whoops a laugh. “We can use this, Trea!”

  I clap my hands and hug him tightly, more excited than I’ve been in many days. His arms slip around me, and I feel his chin on my head.

  “We can use this,” he repeats again, softer. I feel so comforted resting in his arms, and it’s because of this that I push him away. I don’t deserve Lexan’s comfort.

  A door closes, and Ama returns with a small scroll of paper clutched in her hands. Avoiding my eyes, she spreads the paper on the table, revealing a map of Tartarus. There are thin lines drawn vertically and horizontally across the entire map, with numbers at the edges of each. She points to an intersection of lines, and I see a label: Prison.

  “Can we send the bird there to record?” Lexan asks, understanding much more quickly than I do. Ama nods, then traces her finger along the vertical and horizontal lines that connect above the prison.

  She takes the bird and types Coordinates 54V 75H, followed by Record Prisoners, 24h to current.

  “Will that record all the new prisoners from last night until now?” Lexan guesses, and she nods. I think she smiles beneath her veil, and her eyes crinkle at the corners. I notice again how young she is - younger than me. She takes the bird to the fountain and reaches toward the skylight, pulling one of the tail feathers to the left. The gears inside the bird begin to click and spin, and suddenly it spreads its metal wings and jumps from her hand, circling tightly upward until it disappears into the night sky.

  “Thank you,” I say, turning to Ama. “Thank you for showing us this. I know it could get you in trouble. I promise we’ll be careful.” She bows her head again, and I glimpse a bit of smile as her veil shifts. She gathers our dishes together and lays out clothing for us to wear to bed. Soon the guard comes to collect the tray.

  Last night, this had been the signal that we were alone for the night, and sure enough, Ama retreats to her room behind the walls just as the main door of my room clicks shut. I hear a guard shuffle into place on the other side.

  “I wonder how long the bird will take?” I ask Lexan as he settles back on the couch.

  “Who knows. There may be a lot of new prisoners to record. Let’s rest a little before we try to sneak out to find Irana.”

  I step behind the bed curtains and change into my night clothes. The fabric is soft and shiny, whispering as I move. I lie on the bed and wait, afraid to close my eyes and let the nightmares in again.

  “I think it’s late enough,” a voice near me says, opening the darkness again. Lexan stands beside the bed. “Are you ready?”

  I rub the fog of half-sleep from my eyes and follow him to the door. We listen for a few minutes and hear nothing from the guard. I try the handle and it’s still locked. So I knock. Lexan yanks my hand away, but it’s too late.

  The door swings open, and the guard stands there, surveying us with narrowed eyes.

  “We’d like to go for a walk,” I say.

  He raises his eyebrows. Shakes his head.

  “Can you take us somewhere?” Lexan asks. The man doesn’t respond, continuing to watch Lexan. “Can we visit the throne room?”

  The guard purses his lips and tilts his head. I sigh - this would be so much easier if he would just talk.

  “I want to talk to the girl in the cage. Irana. We have things to discuss. Hade said we could go certain places in the palace, so will you take us there or not?” I demand.

  The tiniest whisper of a smile flashes across the guard’s face, and he holds a hand out, as though gesturing for us to lead the way. So I do.

  When we reach the giant doors, I pause. Our guard shrugs, and I realize he isn’t the one who usually delivers me here. I search the door with my fingers, hesitant to try the pattern and fail.

  But Lexan just steps forward and silently taps the diamond flowers and silver stems in just the way the guards always do. He grins as the door clicks and whirs until it pulls open before us. I hope I was wrong about Hade sleeping in the throne room. Otherwise, this will be a very short visit.

  The room seems deserted, and the door shuts quietly behind us. The guard settles against the wall by the door. I step lightly across the floor and run my fingers along the center of the white flowered screen, searching for the edges. Finding it, I pull one side open just enough to squeeze through, and Lexan and I tiptoe into a room we’ve never been in.

  The dark is just enough to make it difficult to navigate. But I can see more than one cage. I had hoped to not use my fire, but it seems there is no way to see which one holds the girl.

  I summon a small flame. The first cage is empty. The second contains a small beast that is curled tightly around itself, with a long tail wrapped around one of the bars.

  The third cage has something large enough to be the girl, but a sheet is draped around most of the bars.

  “Irana?” I whisper. The figure stirs and shifts. But before I can get closer, a creaking, metallic sound approaches from the darkness beyond us.

  I push Lexan behind the second empty cage, shutting my hands against my firelight. A figure begins to move in our direction from the far dark corner of the room. It doesn’t move in a human way - rather, it glitches and shudders, the sound of metal on metal clinking quietly through the room.

  It stops before the shrouded cage and bends down, then jerks up an inch or so, and finally bends lower to reach a gear on the side of the cage. Laboriously, the figure begins to twist the gear in a counter-clockwise motion. Clicks echo softly as each tooth of the gear catches on its mechanism inside the cage.

  The shape in the cage begins to move, shuffling and ruffling what I imagine to be the large feathers of the girl’s skirt. An unseen rope slides the drape upward, and I can see that the girl Irana is indeed inside. She stretches gracefully, then stands and clutches at the bars of her cage, whispering to the figure turning the gear.

  The sounds of metal and gears stop, and both figures turn directly toward where Lexan and I are still hiding. The person outside the cage holds up a hand and a soft blue glow spreads from his palm, giving us enough light to see each other.

  He twists his head toward us and I can see that his left cheek is encased in metal, and his left eye is a blue glassine, with a tiny light blinking in the inner corner.

  “A robot?” Lexan says, astonishment in his voice. I vaguely remember the term from our old history textbooks, but we were told all such technology had vanished with the war and the Sickness. Of course, Ama’s bird also says differentl
y.

  “Not exactly,” Irana says. “This is Pacem. He’s human, but he also has machine parts. Hade treats them like machines. But he’s wrong. They’re people.”

  This last sentence comes out rather fiercely, and I wonder at the boy’s history and relationship to the caged bird-girl. Such a world we’ve found in Tartarus.

  “Why are you here?” Irana asks, breaking into my thoughts.

  “I wanted to meet you. I can’t believe Hade keeps you in this cage,” I say.

  She shakes her head. “I’m not his prisoner. But I mean, why is Hade keeping you? He doesn’t keep prisoners: they’re captured and fed to the arena within days. The fact that you’re still here in the palace means you’re different.”

  “We came asking for Hade’s help, but he’s decided we can help him. He wants our powers,” Lexan answers, giving far more information than I would have.

  “And what powers are those?” Irana asks.

  “Control over fire and air.” I hear Lexan say the words, and again I can’t believe he’s giving up this information. Of course, the whole palace would know if the servants bothered to communicate with each other.

  “Are you…” Irana pauses, pressing her face to the bars, studying me closely. “Are you the Maiden of Justice?”

  I hesitate, but there’s no reason to deny it. “Yes. Astrea. And this is Lexan, my Scale of Balance.”

  “Praise be to the stars and the God who made them!” Irana whispers, clapping her hands softly. She wipes at her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here. We’ve waited so long, haven’t we, Pacem?”

  The boy nods jerkily and turns his face back toward her, showing the more human side of his face. I think he’s probably our age, and I wonder what happened to make him this way. Was he injured? An experiment? An uneasy feeling creeps along my shoulders.

  “Why do you stay, if you aren’t a prisoner?” I ask her abruptly.

  “I’ve been waiting,” she answers, gazing into Lexan’s eyes. I glare at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “I’ve been waiting for you for my whole life.”

  Just then a red light begins to flash on Pacem’s metal shoulder, and Irana trembles. “You have to go,” she says, her voice raspy with fear. “Hade is coming, and he won’t like it if he finds you here. He’ll take it out on Pacem, or maybe Lexan.”

  I nod, and Lexan is pulling me from the room before I can say goodbye. Our guard follows like a silent shadow as we slip into the hallway just as Hade rounds the corner. He is reading a thin book, and somehow he doesn’t notice us pressed in an alcove opposite the door to the throne room. He enters the patterned code without looking and disappears behind the large doors.

  I breathe in a gasp of air, the leaves from a potted plant tickling my nose. “That was too close.”

  Lexan nods, pulling me down the corridor toward our rooms.

  He doesn’t ask and I don’t question when he climbs onto the bed next to me. I burrow beneath the covers and he rests on top, staring at the ceiling above us. Moonlight slants in through the skylight over the bath, and I can barely see his eyes open and staring into nothing.

  Just as I am drifting off to sleep, he shifts and looks at me.

  “I could hear her, Trea. Her thoughts.”

  In the morning, I struggle to remember if I dreamed those words.

  SEVENTEEN

  September 1, 2067

  Charles has “procured” a shipment of building materials on their way to the military base in Nevada. I think this means he stole them. But I don’t care, because we can finally resume work on our safe house. Clota has become enchanted with the idea, and she is designing one of her own - she refuses to move into ours. I told Charles my idea for the name - Asphodel. It’s a place of waiting. Where there are no good people or bad people - everyone is simply surviving, spending their days waiting for the chance to live again. He approved.

  From First Leader Lakessa’s private journal

  Included in Firene’s secret papers

  After breakfast, we are led outside the palace to an open, paved area. A simple carriage waits - soft, white cushions piled into a bowl. Enormous black horses snort as I climb awkwardly up the steps and settle on the deep bench. Hade motions for Lexan to sit next to me, then he arranges the ridiculous train of my black skirt to flow around and over the side of the carriage. His fingers brush the bare skin at my stomach and I clench inwards.

  He smiles in satisfaction and sits across from us, propping one knee on the other. As we begin to move, a slight breeze picks at the edges of my dress, and it appears that the carriage has a fluttery black tail.

  “This, darling, is my arena,” Hade says, gesturing grandly as we are driven through the tall white gates. The horses navigate a steep incline, leading us to a raised pavilion that overlooks the entire maze. Crowds of spectators mill below us, yelling and sweating. Several beautiful ladies in colorful dresses are seated beneath a flowered canopy just below and to the left of us, with a scattering of men at their sides. A few vendors sell cold drinks and charred meat.

  “How often does this happen?” Lexan asks as he walks the perimeter of the pavilion, peering between the columns. Long, creamy curtains billow around his legs.

  Hade shrugs. “About twice a month. Sometimes more often, if the mood suits me.”

  Settled onto lavishly-cushioned white couches, we have a bird’s-eye view of the arena. It is both fascinating and horrible to see.

  “The first contestant!” An announcer across the arena stands, a small doll of a figure to us. He reads the man’s crimes through a microphone, his voice broadcast for everyone. And there are hundreds and hundreds of people watching, screaming to see a man die.

  I am too busy studying the design of the arena, comparing it to my dream, to notice that the man has run straight to the lion’s den.

  The crowd shrieks at him to turn back, but it is too late. The door opens, and the lion lunges, snapping its jaws around the man’s leg and dragging him inside. The door shuts behind him and all I hear are screams. I can’t tell which are the dying man’s and which are the crowd’s.

  “Did he deserve to die, Lady Justice?” Hade turns to ask me, flicking his wrist at the waiting guards. They draw the heavy curtains closed between the pillars, drowning out some of the noise, and saving me from watching the lion’s feast. I turn my eyes to the blue, open sky above me.

  “What was his crime?” I ask, hoping to buy myself time.

  Hade only smiles, so Lexan answers me. “He murdered someone.”

  “A life for a life,” I say, remembering an old teaching. Now I can’t remember if it was Keirna’s teaching or Lakessa’s, or even further back than that. If someone takes a life, should theirs also be forfeit?

  If this is true, everyone in this concealed pavilion is walking dead, including me.

  The guards draw back the curtains again, and the announcer steps up to his podium.

  “We have a special guest today. Lord Hadeon Maximus Spiris is with us…” He pauses for the crowd’s half-hearted cheering. “And he has an announcement to make.”

  Hade stands and steps into the sunlight, smoothing his white coat. The fabric shines in the sunlight, and the silver embroidery on the sleeves glints and winks. Someone hands him a microphone.

  “People of Tartarus. Today is the day we have been waiting for. Nearly one hundred years of wasting away in the desert are over. Our savior, the Starbright Maiden of Justice, has come!”

  He holds an arm toward me and I step obediently from the shadows, drowning in the noise of the people watching me. I can see the faces of those nearest to Hade’s pavilion, and many do not look pleased. These are his court - his closest allies and deepest enemies.

  They are not interested in Justice.

  I look farther out, into the sea of dirty faces beyond this island of privilege. Smiles and shouts and waves of tears wait for me there. As I raise a tentative hand, the screaming becomes too much, and I sway back onto the couch.

  �
��In addition to the honor of her visit, Lady Justice has chosen to bless us today by using her ability to judge a man’s true soul. Bring forth the prisoner!”

  “What?” I pull at his sleeve, remembering his threat of a public trial. “What are you doing?”

  Hade turns from the microphone. “Darling, you only have to pronounce him innocent or guilty. The people need a show of power. Give it to them.”

  I glance at Lexan, panic rising in my throat. He shakes his head as though he can’t think of a way out of this. He reaches a hand up to mine and squeezes. I notice Hade’s eyes narrow at the gesture before he pulls me back to the edge of the pavilion.

  “Citizens of Tartarus, here is your second prisoner of the day. His alleged crime is rape!” Hade turns to leer at me and vomit rises in the back of my throat. I want to smack him into the lion’s pit right then. “He was caught in the act of violating his own young daughter. The witnesses have spoken. Lady Justice? What do you say?”

  He steps back and guides me to the microphone with a firm hand on my lower back. His fingers reach under the fluttering fabric of my cropped shirt and a current of dark electricity seems to flow into my skin where he touches me.

  “Look directly at him,” Hade whispers in my ear. “Look for his soul. Is it black? Is it white? Find the truth. Deliver Justice.”

  I stare at the small figure before me and the desert air shimmers. I close my mind to the feeling of Hade’s hand on my skin. The sand beneath the prisoner shifts and pools like water and his body blurs at the edges - an impossible mirage. A dark spot seems to appear on his chest, over his heart. The spot grows as I stare at it, and dark tendrils spread from its center, winding around the man’s arms and fingers.

  Around his waist and lower. Highlighting the areas of his crime. Suddenly I’m sunk under the weight of memory. I remember the guard. His eyes, cold and blank as I struggled beneath him. The beads of sweat on his forehead as I tried to push him away.