Finally. Because no matter what my uncle claimed, his tests could wait for a few short moments, just so I could have this moment. Here, with my family. With Qole.
Not allowing for further delay, I threw open the double doors and strode inside. “Great Collapse,” muttered Qole, stopping short next to me.
A sinking feeling took me as I pictured the scene through her eyes.
The walls of the great room curved and arched without any sharp edges from top to bottom, where they flared to meld seamlessly with the glass that wrapped one entire side. Every beautiful piece of furniture was arranged with purpose, to create areas of conversation and flow. Here one might practice music, there one might attempt to paint the staggering view of the sunset. Blue synthetics edged with silver accented the white leather harvested from the southern woodlands of Luvos. Some protested that the source was now endangered, but these pieces were ancient, and of course that much more valuable.
I thought of the Kaitan, with its riveted alloy walls, dim lights, and wooden floors. The largest space on the ship was the scum-streaked hold, and it was far smaller than the room we had just entered.
I had always thought everything here was a testament to understated art in a living space, the way my teachers in design had taught me. Now, with Qole’s voice echoing in my ears, I compared it to the home I had known for the past week, and it looked as though a supernova had indiscriminately splattered wealth and riches to every rounded corner. There was no way she would ever feel comfortable here.
There was a moment of silence as we surveyed the great room, and its inhabitants—my most immediate family, who’d obviously gathered for our arrival—stared back from their various couches. There were only four of them, without any attendants, but somehow their presence was all the greater for it.
Then the silence was broken by a gleeful shriek, and ten-year-old Marsius, terror of the citadel, burst from his chair. My brother hurtled toward me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Nev! You’re back! From Alaxak! With friends! And gifts, right?”
I laughed and staggered backward, peeling him off. “Thank you for your brilliant observations. Yes, I’m back with friends…although if I’d known you were going to smash into me like a meteor, I might have thought twice.”
He turned his attention to Qole and Arjan. “I’m Marsius Dracorte III,” he said. “I’m number three because the name wasn’t mine first. Only the oldest brother and sister, like Nev and Solara, get new names, but that’s okay, I don’t care—”
“Marsius, calm down,” Father chided. He stood from his seat and strode forward. Marsius quieted. Son or not, when Thelarus Dracorte gave an order, you obeyed.
I tried to see him the way Qole might. Tall, with a straight back that carried the dark suit he wore with absolute comfort. His trimmed beard hid the angles of his jaw that I knew were so similar to mine. Age had set his silver-gray eyes slightly deeper than mine, however, and his body was thicker, if still enormously muscular. His voice made one think of warmth and foundation. It was evident in every detail that the man was born to rule, and I was always certain that if my father had not inherited a crown, the universe would have spontaneously created one for him to wear.
I bowed my head. “Father.”
“Son, welcome back. We are overjoyed to see you returned safely.”
My head still inclined, I felt my brow furrow. I knew when Father was overjoyed, and if this was it, then Eton was overjoyed to see me every day. Had I so overstepped my bounds in redirecting our arrival, undermining his authority? Nothing worse than embarrassment could result from that, but then, Father hated being embarrassed almost more than anything.
So be it. Even if I could have reversed time, I wouldn’t have done anything differently.
I straightened. “And I am overjoyed to return to you, with my auspicious guests. Father, this is Captain Qole Uvgamut, of the Kaitan Heritage. She and her brother, Arjan Uvgamut, are the best Shadow harvesters on Alaxak, and have agreed to help us understand its binding effect on organic matter.”
Father favored them with a smile. “Indeed, this is most fortunate news. You are both welcome in Dracorva.”
“Qole and Arjan,” I continued, as was proper, “may I present you to Thelarus Axandar Rubion Marsius Dracorte, King and Steward of the Dracorte Family Empire.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir…sire.” Qole extended her hand to him, and I winced. She couldn’t have known that the only proper way to greet a king was with a bow or curtsy. I should have thought to warn her.
But Father was nothing if not decorous. He hesitated only a moment before taking her hand and shaking it in return.
“My dear, it’s not customary to shake hands with the king.” My mother, Ysandrei, descended upon us, indulgent concern creasing her beautiful face. She was arrayed more opulently than Father, in a deep blue gown that hugged her just enough to show a figure more youthful than she had any right having. Mother would never show too much skin, but as she never tired of telling us, she believed one should take pride in one’s appearance.
She didn’t fail to notice the look on Qole’s face after I introduced her as the queen. “Don’t be distressed, of course,” she said. “I know navigating these social straits is difficult. Nevertheless, Thelarus, is it safe for you to be touching her? I hear Shadow poisoning is very common on Alaxak.” She smiled in apology at Qole. “No offense intended, my dear. My life’s purpose is to think of every detail.”
A mixture of emotions warred across Qole’s face—confusion, embarrassment, anger—before she swallowed them. “It’s…I’m not catching, if that’s what you mean.”
“Isn’t catching Shadow exactly what you do?” Inviting and musical, the voice treated the words with bored amusement. The owner hadn’t bothered getting up, but I didn’t find that surprising. My sister, Solara, reclined on a couch with an infopad, finger slowly moving through whatever she was reading. She had few passions outside the latest palace gossip and interpersonal news. Politics, science, and history were not her calling, and I rarely found that our interests aligned. Her golden gown perfectly matched the sunlight that glinted in her blond hair as she glanced up—no coincidence, I was sure.
“Qole and Arjan, meet Solara Dracorte, my sister,” I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
If Marsius couldn’t help but listen to Father’s order, he also couldn’t help but forget it as curiosity seized him again. “Oh yes, Shadow! You fish for it! How do you do that? Do you have a rod? Or nets? Is it true you do it on the edge of a molecular cloud? Do you have your own ship?”
Neither Qole nor Arjan could repress a smile, and some of the tension went out of their shoulders. I could have given Marsius all the presents in the world.
Arjan knelt in front of him. “We are on the edge of the molecular cloud. You start with a mag-field net, see, because…”
I left the two of them to discuss the particulars of Shadow fishing, moving deeper into the room with Qole to find a seat. The king and queen followed almost warily. I touched Qole on the arm to indicate a chair that she could take, and she started, betraying a nervousness I hadn’t known was so acute.
I couldn’t blame her; as eager as I had been, I now saw that I couldn’t have thrust her into a more foreign experience.
I turned to the king before I took a seat. “Father, do you know why the Air Guard tried to escort the Kaitan to a containment block?” I asked as if it were no great concern. “They said it was on your order.”
I knew why, of course, but I wanted to hear him justify it. I wanted Qole to hear it.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. “It was. I was advised that following rigorous safety protocol in light of the attacks on you was advisable, and I gave the go-ahead.”
Qole considered this, then gave a brief nod, even though Father wasn’t directly addressing her. Good. At least she saw the logic behind the decision too, even if it was nonetheless ill-mannered.
I considered my next w
ords carefully. Now I had to put both my family and Qole at ease, and it dawned on me that my strategies for each might be at odds with one another. These were two different worlds I was trying to bridge. In one, you could simply walk up to someone’s door, knock, and talk. In the other, there were protocols—often good ones, for good reasons like security, efficiency, and order—but sometimes they hindered direct communication.
While these worlds might be different, I didn’t believe they were mutually exclusive. I couldn’t. I needed each to see the other the way I did.
“Father, I hope you understand why we didn’t land at the containment block. It wasn’t a fitting welcome for Captain Qole”—I was careful to emphasize her rank—“particularly after she saved my life. Probably more than once.”
Mother looked at Qole with sudden, newfound amazement that was almost indecent, as far as her usual standards…and with appreciation, I was pleased to see.
The king raised his eyebrows, then inclined his head in gracious acknowledgment. “Then our gratitude is unending.”
The queen collected herself enough to incline her head as well, holding it as long as decorum allowed for a great gift. “All of Luvos is grateful to you. And I, as a mother, am in your debt.”
Qole looked baffled, rather than mollified. Unable to find the words to respond, she stuttered for a second, then blushed furiously.
I suppressed a wince. If this was supposed to make her feel better, I’d likely failed. I opened my mouth to prompt her and she, anticipating me, shot me a venomous look that said Shut up, I can speak for myself, as clearly as a blaring comm speaker.
Finally rallying, she said, “Thank you, Your Majesties, but we were all in danger and just doing what we could to survive.” She hesitated, but only for a moment. “I’m happy to be here. It’s been…quite the trip.”
I tried not to smile. Couching unpleasantness in euphemism—Qole was figuring out the game already.
The king nodded. “We’ve become aware. Apparently, there is a significant price on your head, Captain Qole. It would seem the Treznor-Nirmana family is exceedingly interested in what you might have to offer them. But you needn’t worry; they can’t reach you here.”
“Yes, they were interested,” Qole said with some heat. “They were so interested they tried to cut me open.”
So much for euphemism.
“That’s very disturbing.” Father frowned. “Tell me, did they say what they hoped to accomplish with that?”
I grimaced inwardly. In spite of her bluntness, I didn’t think this was a topic Qole really wanted to revisit. “What does that matter?” I asked, stepping in. “They are unscrupulous lunatics, willing to take shortcuts in their research at the expense of someone’s life. What matters is that with Qole’s help we can unlock the key—”
“Oh, systems, what kind of horrid conversation is this?”
There is a maxim in royal circles: for every social situation, the most socially uncomfortable thing that can happen will happen—hence, as the popular wisdom went, one must avoid anything that could lead to awkwardness. Such as conversations that were interesting enough to warrant staying awake.
But given that maxim, putting Qole in the same room as Ket was, without a doubt, the worst social misstep I could have made in my life to date.
To be fair, I hadn’t known Ketrana would be here, nor had I seen her lounging in the shade on a recliner as we entered, or else I might have aborted this attempt at an introduction altogether. My family, I could handle. My mother mostly confined herself to worrying about etiquette and impropriety, Marsius was always so good natured that one suspected drugs, and Solara was, just, well, Solara. She gossiped and went to parties.
But Ketrana…She looked the picture of a fine-blooded princess. Her tiny frame was perfectly proportioned to distract, and her regal neck led to fine features: lips designed for pouting, cheeks that dimpled just so, and a nose that had the perfect curve.
But the dimples of every smile were calculated perfectly, and the nose was held in a way that indicated not playfulness, but distaste. The first time I had ever met her, I’d been as taken as any red-blooded adolescent would be, especially since she’d worn a gown as alluring as the one clinging to her now. Since then, I’d realized there was a fine line between vapid and malicious. It was a line she played fast and loose.
Now there was no hope for this to be anything but a painfully awkward experience for Qole.
“Are you the Alaxan? I can’t believe they let you up here. This must be the thrill of a lifetime!” Ketrana stepped around the back of my couch and fixed Qole with a disbelieving stare. It was true that Qole’s fur-trimmed leather jacket and knee-high boots merely served to accentuate her ragged dark hair and the stark contrast of her features to those of Ket. Where Ket was fine as a perfect piece of miniature artwork, Qole was as healthy and wild as the nature that might have inspired that artwork. “From Alaxak to the royal chambers,” she continued, “it’s like something out of a reality vid.”
“Ket,” I said with some force, “Captain Qole is my guest. And she’s seen sights that do not make a royal common room much of a thrill.”
I hesitated then, even though I well knew that etiquette demanded a proper introduction. I wasn’t sure why I was having trouble saying the next few words. Maybe because I didn’t know how Qole would take them. Would she be indifferent? Or confused, since they no doubt did things contrarily on Alaxak? Angry, because I hadn’t yet had the chance to explain?
Part of me almost wanted her to be angry, for my own reasons that weren’t fully realized. But then I knew that because of etiquette and protocol, I couldn’t tell her why she shouldn’t be. Not here, alongside Ket. Not until we were alone again…whenever that would be.
“Qole.” I finally turned to her, having waited long enough for Mother to give me a look. “This is Ketrana Dracorte, my second cousin…and my betrothed.”
For a brief moment, I could have sworn blackness flickered at the edge of Qole’s eyes. “I…see. I keep learning new things here. Congratulations must be in order, hey?”
She was definitely angry. Furious, by the looks of her, though it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else.
I, on the other hand, didn’t know if it was a thrill of alarm or excitement that I felt.
“Oh, hey, that’s adorable.” Solara materialized over my other shoulder, smiling. “You are a dear, Captain. Please don’t mind Ket, we simply haven’t met anyone such as you before. You can’t imagine how stimulating we find it. Isn’t that right, Ket?”
Ket laughed, her eyes as cold as ice. “Stimulating. I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m sure. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Qole.” She sat down daintily at the edge of the couch next to me. “Aren’t you happy to see me, Nevarian?”
She batted her eyelashes, and I heroically controlled my gag impulse. Typically, I had no trouble with Ket. Marriage for royals was about bloodlines, politics, and tradition. We were bred for specific traits and, as we were frequently reminded from birth, genetics did not care about passion. I’d always recognized that as part of my duty and had felt I could do much worse than Ket. She was certainly beautiful, and while her disposition was egregious, I could largely ignore her. Except now I was somehow finding that impossible. It was as though every fake thing about her, every inauthentic motion, was coming into sharp relief.
“Oh, you two lovebirds don’t need to talk.” Solara leaned over me and batted Ket’s arm. “You’ll have plenty of time for that later, don’t you think? No, we should take this opportunity to learn about our new guest. Tell me, Qole, what do Alaxans do for fun?”
I breathed silent thanks to Solara. I didn’t know why she’d felt compelled to come to my rescue, but as patronizing as she was being to Qole, it was a thousand times better than what might have resulted from Ket.
“Well, um…” Qole was off to another uninspiring start, but then her voice picked up strength and speed. “We don’t have a lot of downtime, but when we do, a lot of
families in my village like to gather. We each bring a meal, and eat it together as one big feast.”
The corners of her lips had the beginnings of a smile, her eyes a glint of remembered pleasure. It wasn’t a look I saw on her face often, so I committed it to my memory.
“Each household brings a meal?” Solara asked, incredulous. “No one hosts?”
“No, that’s sort of the point.” Qole’s face was already closing off, her tone flattening. “It’s a shared thing, called a potluck.”
“I get it!” Ket nearly shrieked. “The luck of the draw—or the pot! You never know what you’ll get, right? Unifier’s name, how could you just trust all these family’s cooks like that?”
“Um, we don’t have cooks. We cook. Ourselves.” Qole must have anticipated what sort of response she would get from that because she went on quickly. “Anyway, I like it. It’s fun.”
Ket swooped back in—for the kill. “Well, there must be something else you do for more amusement. Oh, oh, let me guess, this will be a blast.” She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “For those quaint fur clothes of yours, do you hunt and skin the animals yourself ? I’ve heard that locals of the outer planets like to do that. I’ve seen vids of people up to their elbows in blood—some even drink it steaming! Do you do the same?”
Great Collapse.
“Do I drink blood?” Qole opened her mouth, then closed it. I hoped she was too shocked to get infuriated.
Mother tried to salvage the moment, to her credit. “Or what about other cultural traditions, dear? Do you have any festivals?”
Qole’s face went still. Festivals? Alaxak?
But then she surprised me by saying, very calmly, “Sort of.” Her face was beyond still. A mask. “Once a year we gather on the tundra and light off Shadow flares for each person who has died in the past year. Every year we launch dozens, in a village that has only hundreds living in it. The flares are supposed to carry their souls up through atmosphere, to the molecular cloud where we catch our Shadow. It’s Shadow that kills us, so that’s where we go, when we die.”
Shadow Run Page 19