Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  Lexan tugs at my fingers again, and I shiver through the effects of his touch. Glancing at the earnest face of the Prophet, and reminding myself how he much has helped me before, I sit.

  And wait. Everyone remains silent just long enough for me to huff in frustration.

  “Well?”

  “Star child,” murmurs the middle Sister. “You could be a star goddess if you decide. But you have much to learn. No–” she raises her hand even as I open my mouth to retort that I have no teachers. “Elysium requires much from its citizens, and perhaps even more from its visitors. You must learn the path to earn your information. It is custom, and it is prophecy.”

  “She is right,” the Prophet says, nodding his head. “I will share what I am able, but Elysium’s ways are part of the prophecy.”

  “So cleansing the people will require us to be cleansed?” Lexan asks. The Prophet nods.

  “And not only the two of you,” Tisiphone adds. “We must gather the other two maidens here as well.”

  “But we don’t even know who the last maiden is!” I protest, massaging my temples with both hands. Not to mention Irana is somewhere between Tartarus and Asphodel, herding the newly white-souled citizens toward some unknown Garden.

  The table has grown silent, and I look up from my hands. The Prophet is watching me intensely.

  “Don’t you?” he asks.

  “Don’t I what.”

  “Know who she is?”

  I shake my head, exquisitely tired of all of this mystery. “If you know, please just tell us.”

  Before he can deny my request, like I’m sure he will, Lexan speaks. “We do have a strong suspicion, but we’ve had no way to confirm – until now, perhaps. The girl who was with us in Tartarus – Zarea – there is a possibility she was born of Elysium.”

  “Unlikely,” the middle Sister sneers. “If she were born here, she would have been raised here. If she were rejected, she would have died on the cliffs.”

  “Died on the cliffs?” I repeat, narrowing my eyes at her. She holds my gaze, not flinching away.

  “Yes. Sometimes babies are born here who could never complete the path – who are not fully formed. They are given back to the creator.”

  “You mean you kill babies,” I state, amazed that I haven’t lit her lavender hair on fire yet. But a strange, flat calmness flows through my limbs, as though I had always known that despite their lofty claims and flawless appearances, the people of Elysium may be the worst kind yet.

  “Zarea’s father may have tricked her mother into bearing the child outside of Elysium, or she may have abandoned her city,” Lexan says, and his voice is tight enough that I know he is thinking the same things I am about our hosts.

  “This would explain why I cannot see the third maiden,” Tisiphone says softly. “Bring her to us, and we will know,” she finishes, rising to clear our empty soup bowls.

  She pushes through the curtain and Alecta sighs, watching her go. She looks back at the other Sister, and again they seem to communicate without speaking.

  She nods, then turns to us. “Tisiphone is ready to tell you all, but we have agreed that you must follow the path. You have gained access to only a portion of your true powers simply because you have not forced yourself to examine the truths of the world. Sleep well tonight, for in the morning, you will begin your journey.”

  Both Sisters rise and leave the table just as Tisiphone returns. As though she knew what was about to happen, she has only brought enough plates back for the four of us who remain.

  She passes out the plates then seats herself. “I will send two riders tomorrow – one to the paths beyond Tartarus to find Irana and bring her here, and one east toward Asphodel, to try and locate the girl Zarea. It may result in nothing,” she warns, “because the elements have been growing stronger. The riders may not make it.”

  “Thank you,” I say, lowering my eyes. I focus instead on tasting the strange bean and vegetable mixture Tisiphone has delivered to me. It has a wonderful mix of flavors, none of which I can easily identify.

  “What is involved in the study of the truth and the path?” Lexan asks. “Pain?”

  The Prophet smiles. “Pain is always involved with the truth. But the path itself is found simply by meditation and study. Some complete the path quickly, and others may take years.”

  “We don’t have months, let alone years!” I’m already nervous, thinking of my general incapacity for meditation.

  “You are correct. You have the prophecy of the Garden?”

  Lexan nods. “Three maidens will lead the people to the Garden. But we have no idea where, or even when specifically.”

  “And the stories of the great eclipse – when the moon again joins the sun in the sky,” I add, remembering Mother’s sweet voice telling me those bedtime myths before I even understood what they might mean for me. I smile to myself as for once, the memory remains sweet and untinged with desperation or sadness.

  The Prophet looks at me suddenly. “You have found a truth. Just now – do you feel it?”

  “What?”

  “Your aura has changed. Whatever you were thinking just now – it is a truth. You have completed part of the path!” he grins.

  “But…there was no pain! I was only remembering my mother’s stories, and thinking how I don’t feel so sad when I think of her death anymore.”

  “And yet that is a truth – to bask in joy without falling to the burden of gloom,” he explains.

  “Perhaps the pain of her loss has been with you so long already…” Lexan says, looking to the Prophet for confirmation.

  He nods. “It is indeed possible. The path may be followed outside of our city – but we do not tell people that,” he smiles.

  Tisiphone says, “When we leave here, I will show you the next color you may follow. Be aware, though, that the remainder of the path will likely not be so easy, child.”

  I hide my eye roll by ducking my head to fork in another bite. I am barely younger than she is, and I certainly haven’t felt like a child in months, if not years.

  “When will the eclipse take place?” Lexan asks. “Next year, I know.”

  “Keirna said July,” I say, recalling her speech from Choosing Day.

  The Prophet nods. “Our predictions are mid-summer. Although we are not in its direct path, we will see the moon overpower the sun for the longest time in known history. Prophecy tells that during those seven minutes, the fate of humankind will be decided for the next one thousand years.”

  “Seven minutes,” I repeat in disbelief. No pressure there. “So if we succeed, everyone is safe for a millennium?” I ask, focusing on the positive.

  “As safe as can be said for a group of fragile mortals,” he says, smiling at his own joke.

  “But all of the remaining people must be safely inside the Garden, and their souls must be cleansed, before their fate may be decided,” Tisiphone says, rising again. I notice her plate has barely been touched.

  She beckons, and I rise to follow her, glancing back at Lexan, who sends me a private thought, even though we both know privacy is an illusion here.

  It’s a huge task, I know. But we have each other to depend on now. We’ll figure it out together.

  SEVEN

  LEXAN

  September 1, 2066

  The president was assassinated last week by one of the rebels.

  The saddest part is, nobody even knew. The country just kept right on

  fighting as the pictures of his bloodied body circled the markets.

  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. No-one in our country cared about the news

  when it was free. But I do. Every time I have a couple of coins to spare,

  I go straight to the newsie. You can’t trust the street rumors.

  On my way home, I stopped to see Evangeline. She begged me to bring Clota and Aisa,

  so we can finish reading the prophecy. I can’t stop thinking about her prediction that I will end this civil war. So many thou
sands of people have died. Why am I any different from all the other leaders who have tried to stop the fighting? I’m just a teenage girl. Nobody.

  I need to take Clota and Aisa to her, and soon. The only question is how.

  From First Leader Lakessa’s personal journal

  Included in Firene’s secret papers

  I watch Tisiphone deliver Trea to a brown-haired girl, then slip back inside the curtain.

  “Your paths may be different, Lexan. You should not make her such promises that you do not know how to keep,” she warns.

  “It is not a false promise – I will stay with her, no matter what,” I answer, aggravated that she doubts my commitment.

  “Your commitment should be to the path and the prophecies now, not necessarily to Astrea,” the Prophet says gently.

  “Can you read my regular thoughts as well?” I ask, a little surprised at the anger in my voice.

  He shakes his head. “Only when you project to another. But your face is as easy to read as my star charts.”

  “You love her, but that may not be enough,” Tisiphone says, her voice as quiet as a snake’s hiss, slithering into the dark corners of my mind. Of course. This is what I have feared all along – that I will not be enough for Trea. That I will not be strong enough, or smart enough, to save her.

  “We can each only save so much of a person. After that, they must save themselves,” the Prophet says, and I almost ask him again if he can read my thoughts. “Just as Trea cannot totally erase the blackness in a person’s soul – she can only diminish it. The person must then decide to change their ways and keep the blackness contained.”

  I don’t like the sound of this – as though all of what we did in Tartarus could be for nothing if people simply don’t change. Lots of people refuse change.

  “Follow me, and I will deliver you to your room,” Tisiphone says, and I stand, my eyes searching the crowded dining hall for any signs of friendship.

  I see none.

  Outside, my legs slow and stop as I’m instantly mesmerized by the setting sun directly before me. It seems to hover just inches above the concrete river, which has been turned to a channel of orange fire by the dying rays. Even the pale concrete all around us is a soft pink-orange, and the crystals set in the ground sparkle with all the chaos and hidden patterns of the night sky that will be above us soon.

  “What was this place?” I ask. “Before the Great Sickness?”

  “Before the First Cleansing,” Tisiphone begins, changing my name for the event, “this was a place of healing and study. When it was Aisa’s time to choose a place for her people, she chose for beauty. Luckily, it was also an innately spiritual place, and well-balanced. The addition of the crystals has made this a very secure place to watch the end of the world, and its citizens guard their lives carefully.”

  I trace my eyes along the many paths – the colors are somewhat distorted by the sunset, but I can pick out a few distinct lines of color.

  Tisiphone gestures toward the nearest one. “The path itself, and therefore the journey, is divided into twelve steps. One crystal presides over each path, and each represents one of the twelve zodiac signs which your own Asphodel follows.”

  “And the elements?” I ask, thinking of the air symbol before my building.

  She nods, and gestures for me to begin walking again. “Each of the five elements is represented here as well, with a building for each.”

  “Five?”

  “Earth, air, wind, and water. Plus ether. The sum of all – the sum of all of us. The heavens and the universe,” she sweeps her arms wide, as if to embrace the sunrise streaking up behind the city.

  “And have all the citizens of Elysium mastered the fifth element?”

  She shakes her head. “Most never do. It is a journey for the soul, and often the body’s life ends before the journey ends. It is our preparation here on earth that makes the remaining journey after life possible.”

  We have reached the door of my building, and the air sign rushes me with its strange breathy strength as I step onto it again.

  “Sleep well, Lexan. Tomorrow you will begin the journey.”

  She slips away between the buildings, and I have nothing left to do but retrace the steps to my room. There are a few people scattered about, but none meet my eyes. The door to my room closes behind me with a click, and I stand at my window, watching the remains of the sun fade into the night sky.

  I barely sleep all night, thinking of all my unanswered questions. The window is still propped open when the sun begins to claim the clouds again, and the salty breeze teases me out of my half-awake stupor.

  How I wish I could touch the ocean and feel its power.

  My door clicks open and I sit up quickly, the light blanket falling off my bare chest.

  Tariel stands in the soft morning light, fully dressed and ready for the new day. “This will be a long day for you, if you haven’t slept,” she says, surveying my face like the healer she is. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  She leaves, and I rush to be dressed before she returns. I’m tugging on the slippers I’ve been left when she opens the door again. I highly doubt it’s been five minutes. I run my hands through my hair, wishing for a shower. But there’s no time, apparently.

  “Today you will be in the womb,” she says, setting a quick pace down the stairs.

  “Uh–”

  “It is a sensory-deprivation method used for those who are too old for the traditional path. The pain is greater, but the path quicker.”

  “All you people talk about is pain and path,” I grumble, half to myself. I could use some breakfast as well, but she is walking in the opposite direction of the dining hall.

  “The path is our life. Pain and joy follow us throughout.”

  She stops before another door, marked by a rainbow of crystals. I grit my teeth. This one looks like it will hurt.

  And it does, nearly as much as crossing into Elysium itself. Yet I’m surprised to see how even Tariel’s face pales and twists as she steps over the threshold, joining me in the empty lobby area.

  Breathing deeply, she stretches her neck muscles. “Few of us complete the entire path in our lifetime,” she explains, echoing Tisiphone’s admission. “The crystals are always here to remind us of our human shortcomings; how far we have come, yes, but also how far we must travel to enter the purity of the afterworld.”

  I shake my head, following her down a clean, spare corridor. Asphodel didn’t focus much on the concept of the afterworld, or what happens after death. We were always too focused on what would happen when we were finally finished waiting – when the maiden of Justice would deliver us from that stasis, and we could live again.

  Trapped underground as we were, that waiting game was much more important than outside. Tartarus and Elysium present danger to their people, but also a stability that comes with mobility – a surety in knowing that more food can be had by traveling just a bit farther, or working later into the night.

  I can almost understand why Elysium may not welcome our particular brand of salvation.

  We enter a darkened room, which is filled with an enormous, white, egg-shaped capsule. Tariel presses a switch, and a portion of the capsule opens, revealing the water inside.

  “You will undress and enter the womb, then I will close the lid. It will be dark as night, and the temperature and water density are managed to match your body perfectly. It will be as though you were once again an infant in the mother’s womb. After several hours of this acclimation, we will begin to introduce crystals, one at a time, to monitor your pain levels.”

  “Doesn’t that sort of contradict the whole sensory deprivation?” I ask, highly uncomfortable with what I’m about to do.

  She shakes her head. “It is similar to what mothers here do – when they are with child, they place crystals on their stomachs to acclimate the infant inside. The infant experiences both the pain of the crystal, and the joy of the mother’s love. This prepares it
for the journey into the world. The birth,” she adds, as though I couldn’t figure that one for myself.

  “So how long will this take?”

  “That, Lexan, is up to you. I will be back in a few minutes. Put these covers over your ears, rub this oil on any scrapes or wounds, and then enter the womb.” She hands me a container of thick oil and two sticky round discs, then leaves the room.

  I sigh and hurry to slip beneath the water before she returns. It is indeed the perfect temperature to feel as though it does not exist – and as I lie back, I float easily without moving. My arms drift at my sides and the water doesn’t enter my ears or the scrapes at my knuckles. I find that I hear nothing except my own muffled breathing and the tap of the water on the ear coverings, as though it were knocking to enter my mind.

  A touch on my shoulder startles me, and I look up to see Tariel standing at the mouth of the capsule. She brushes her fingers along my ears to check the coverings, then steps back and closes the top, leaving me in a darkness even blacker than night.

  I try not to panic, but this is worse than the twisting tunnels of my visions. At least then I can glimpse a hint of light, leading me out of the maze of my mind. I open my eyes and close them again, not able to tell the difference.

  The overwhelming nothingness surrounds me, squeezing so tightly that I feel as though I will lose my power over air and forget how to breathe. Gritting my teeth, I deliberately hold my breath, and gradually I force myself away from the panic. I touch my fingers to my face and dig in my fingernails – it is still there. I pull my knees to my chest – my feet are still beyond that. I stretch my arms wide and find the edges of the womb, then the bottom, which is not even ten inches away.

  And then I open my mouth and expand my lungs again.

  A bit of the water slips between my lips, the extreme sour saltiness of it burning my throat. That explains the buoyancy, then. I clamp my lips shut, breathing through my nose.