by Brenda Hiatt
“This is supposed to be a party,” I say from behind her, trying to ignore the way her brath seems to reach out and surround me. It’s the closest I’ve been to her since Tuesday night. “You don’t look like you’re having much fun.”
A tiny shudder seems to go through her as she pulls her gaze away from the group around M and Rigel to glance up at me. It makes me wonder if my brath feels extra strong to her, too—not that I plan to ask.
“You don’t seem to be doing a lot of mingling, either,” she points out, one brow raised. Apparently she noticed me avoiding everyone, too, though I haven’t noticed her looking my way.
“Yeah, well, I’m not a big party person,” I reply with a shrug.
“Especially lately?” she asks shrewdly.
I shift uncomfortably. Molly’s taunt just now about people feeling sorry for me was bad enough. Kira alluding to it is worse. To avoid her knowing gaze, I watch the group surrounding M and Rigel.
People have apparently talked them into demonstrating their graell telepathy, because Erin Campbell is scribbling notes she only shows to one of them. Everyone claps when the other one recites it perfectly.
“Nice party trick,” Kira comments.
That forces a snort of laughter from me. “Yeah, they should take it on the road, do children’s birthdays.”
She chuckles, too. “Too bad it would make the Duchas suspicious. Otherwise it could be a great alternative career if the Sovereign gig ever falls through.”
Her words are an abrupt reminder of why I decided to cool things with her before they could get serious. “It’s not going to fall through,” I murmur. “You may as well give up on that idea.”
“Maybe if you told me why it was so important for her to be Acclaimed in the first place,” she replies so softly even I can barely hear her. “You never did get around to that, remember? I’ll bet it was some lame reason having more to do with putting Royals back in power than improving things in Nuath.”
“No. You’re wrong.”
“Prove it.”
For a moment I struggle with myself, weighing the risk of her spreading the story of how close Nuath came to annihilation against the risk of her continuing to agitate against M’s Sovereignty. Finally, I nod.
“Fine. I’ll tell you. Tomorrow. We can go shoot hoops again and…and talk. Okay?”
She stares up at me, skepticism clearly warring with curiosity. Curiosity wins. “All right, then. Tomorrow.”
The small crowd around M and Rigel finally breaks up and one or two people drift our way. Molly, I notice, is chatting animatedly to Alan, just like she promised.
“That’s so cool. They really can read each other’s minds,” I hear Kira’s sister exclaiming to the other two new girls, Erin and Jana.
Both nod enthusiastically. “I just wish the graell wasn’t so rare.” Jana heaves a melodramatic sigh. “It’s so romantic. I wish it would happen to me.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from snapping, “No. You don’t.”
30
Double reverse
If I felt self-conscious at last night’s party, it’s nothing to how I feel waiting for Sean to pick me up again the next afternoon.
At church this morning, Molly insisted our family sit with theirs, though with the Stuarts and Truitts already there, Sean and I were on opposite ends of the pew. The worst was when the service ended and Mrs. O’Gara and Mrs. Truitt, the Sovereign’s “aunt,” invited Mum to join the church choir. Of course she agreed, acting so incredibly honored it was downright embarrassing.
I’m still thinking about that when Sean pulls up in his family’s battered maroon minivan.
“Ready?” he calls out the window, just like last Sunday.
In answer I climb in, my smile feeling stupid on my face. What is it about this guy that makes me feel so awkward? Even Brady didn’t affect me like this. Come to think of it, neither did Sean…until those weird touches. As he pulls back out onto Diamond Street and heads toward the school, I’m grateful for the center console between our seats.
“So,” I say after two or three minutes of uncomfortable silence, “are you still planning to tell me what it was that convinced the Sovereign to work so hard to be Acclaimed?”
He slants a sideways look at me out of those startlingly bright blue eyes. “Didn’t I say I would?”
I shrug. “People don’t always follow through on what they say.” Like my old caidpel coach promising he’d keep me in Nuath. “Especially if it’s something they don’t particularly want to do in the first place.”
“I keep my promises.” Another glance, this one accompanied by a frown. “I figured we’d talk after shooting some hoops, but if you’d rather talk now…?”
“Now works for me.” I don’t want to give him time to change his mind. “You and Molly have made me so curious with all your cryptic hints, I doubt I could keep my head in the game anyway until I hear the rest.”
His frown deepens, but he remains silent until we’re nearly to the school. I’m about to accuse him of going back on his word after all when he heaves a sigh.
“All right. But I hope once I tell you, you’ll understand why it shouldn’t be made public, at least not yet.”
I prefer to reserve judgment on that, but don’t say so. I just wait until he pulls into the back lot and parks before saying, “Go on.”
With a quick nod, he turns to face me. “It…has to do with the Grentl, those aliens that tried to blast Earth with an EMP.”
“Huh?” This is totally not what I was expecting. “What about them?”
“Remember I told you only a few people knew about the Grentl before this latest threat? Well, it turns out the Sovereigns have actually been in contact with them since Sovereign Aerleas. Way longer than M made it sound in her speech about taking precautions. It also wasn’t the first time the Grentl have posed a threat, though I think it was the first time they threatened Earth.”
Now I’m totally confused—and a little scared. “What…what do you mean?”
“Remember those power outages in Nuath last spring?”
Ignoring a trickle of fear, I nod. That last blackout was borderline terrifying. “Governor Nels said it was because of maintenance they were doing on the power grid. He said—”
“He only said that to prevent a mass panic. How do you think people would have reacted if he’d told them aliens, light years away, had the ability to shut down our power permanently?”
A gasp escapes me, the trickle becoming a flood of horror. “Without power, Nuath—”
“Wouldn’t last an hour,” he finishes grimly. “Exactly. Gone. Poof.” He snaps his fingers and I flinch.
“But…what does that have to do with M?”
“She’s the only one who can talk to them. As I understand it, Aerleas sort of imprinted on their communication device when it was discovered three centuries ago. After that, they refused to talk to anyone but her…or a direct descendant. Thanks to Faxon, M is the only one still alive. Those power glitches happened because the Grentl didn’t get an answer the last time they tried to contact the Sovereign—after Faxon tried to use their device. That’s how he was ousted so quickly, by the way. The Grentl zapped him unconscious for messing with their device and loyalists in the Palace seized the opportunity to lock him up. The Resistance did the rest.”
All I can do is stare at him, trying to wrap my mind around everything he’s telling me. I’d think he was making it all up if it weren’t for that incredible light show I saw in Dun Cloch a few nights before we left.
“Anyway,” he continues, “when the Grentl didn’t get any response to their calls, they interrupted Nuath’s power, a little longer each time, to get the Sovereign’s attention. Unfortunately, the only person who could answer them was still on Earth—which meant we had to get M to Mars in a hurry. Because the device was hidden in the Palace, she couldn’t get to it until she was Acclaimed. That obviously needed to happen before they cut power long enough to complete
ly destroy Nuath. It was…a close thing.” The echo of terror in his eyes forces me to believe him.
“And she…knew this all along?”
He nods. “Molly and I only found out the day before she was Acclaimed, the day we had that last, long blackout. Before that, I thought the biggest thing at stake was political stability. Which was important, but not like—”
“Not like the lives of every single person in Nuath.”
“Yeah.”
I think about that for a moment, more preconceptions about the Sovereign crumbling, my sense of purpose wavering—until something occurs to me.
“Then what she did on board the Quintessence, with Rigel, was even more irresponsible than everyone thought! If she knew all our lives depended on her getting Acclaimed as quickly as possible, how could she take a risk like that?”
To my surprise, something like guilt flickers across Sean’s face. “They obviously didn’t know about the cameras yet. That…that kiss happened just a couple hours after liftoff, M told me. They hadn’t had a moment alone for days by then. I’d made sure of that. I sort of threatened to get Rigel in trouble if they didn’t keep their distance, hide their feelings. So when they finally got that brief moment alone…I guess they couldn’t help themselves.”
His eyes linger on me with a warmth that implies he understands why, now. A blush threatens and I look away—and remember something else.
“When I tried to get Molly to tell me all this, she insisted you could explain it better. She also said you deserve as much credit as M does. That if it weren’t for you…” I swallow.
Now Sean’s the one who won’t meet my eyes. “You already know what I had to do to keep her healthy enough for all those appearances, after Rigel’s grandmother took him away.”
His evasiveness tells me that can’t be all. “What else?”
He heaves a sigh. “Molly probably meant what happened the day after M was Acclaimed. When she heard Rigel got his memory erased and left Nuath without her, M…sort of lost it. Went into a complete meltdown. Molly and I managed to pull her out of it enough for her to do what she needed to do—to talk to the Grentl before…you know.”
I swallow. “Good thing you were there to keep her obsession with Rigel from killing us all,” I say, my earlier disdain for her rushing back.
Sean frowns at my tone. “It wasn’t her fault. Devyn Kane and Gordon and…a few others, they’re the ones who nearly got us all killed. Once Molly and I snapped her out of it, M was totally committed to doing whatever she had to. Bottom line is, if it weren’t for her, they’d—we’d—all be dead right now.”
I raise a brow at him and he hurries on. “It’s true. She not only answered them in time to prevent a disastrously long blackout, she also talked them out of destroying Nuath because of what they’d learned about Faxon. Apparently that’s when they shifted their focus to Earth, deciding this is where the problems started. The Grentl really would have zapped this planet back to the Stone Age with that EMP if our Scientists hadn’t figured out a way to harness M and Rigel’s electrical ability to stop them. They’ve apparently backed off now, but what if they change their minds later? If they do, M will be our only hope. Again.”
I don’t say anything at first, still trying to absorb everything I’ve just learned—especially the fact that, if everything Sean just told me is true, M didn’t have a choice about becoming—and staying—Sovereign. Still, I can’t let go of my Populist ideals quite so easily.
“If…if the Grentl do come back someday, she could talk to them even if she weren’t Sovereign, couldn’t she? I mean, if the people elected a different leader in her place she could still be, I don’t know, Head Alien Liaison or something.”
Sean grimaces. “Maybe. She’d probably rather do that than be Sovereign, actually. But totally apart from the Grentl thing, she’s already done a lot more good than you give her credit for. Persuading people to emigrate to Earth, for instance, to lessen the strain on Nuath’s power, which really is running out. When we left Mars, her approval ratings were sky-high—and that was before anybody had even heard about the Grentl. What makes you think our people even want a different leader?”
“Maybe they don’t.” Unfortunately, he has a point, which puts me on the defensive again. “Not yet. But they should still have that choice.”
“If M gets her way, one day they will. For now, though, she’s the best thing we’ve got, even if you refuse to see it.” Clearly exasperated by my attitude, he unsnaps his seatbelt and opens his car door. “Come on. Let’s go shoot some hoops.”
I don’t argue. Sean clearly doesn’t want to talk about this anymore and I need a break, too, to sort through my wildly conflicting thoughts and feelings.
The gym is empty again when we go in, which means neither of us have to hold back. I’m glad, since Sean and I both need to blow off some steam. I give it my all, playing even harder than I did last Sunday, fueled by the anger I feel at myself—and Sean—for my current inner turmoil.
Sean’s playing harder, too. He drives toward the basket, a determined gleam in his eyes, watching for an opening to shoot. I watch him just as closely. The instant he starts to release the ball, I launch myself upward, drawing on all my caidpel training, and bat it away long before it reaches the basket.
“Nice block!” he exclaims, lunging after the ball.
I sprint after it, too and we reach it at exactly the same moment. His reach is a lot longer than mine, but I turn on the speed and dart between his outstretched hands for the ball—only to feel his hands graze both my shoulders. The double jolt I get from the contact startles me breathless and I have to strive mightily not to let my reaction show.
Snagging the ball, away from him, I spin back toward the basket, my eyes narrowed in concentration. Sean’s face showed a trace of the same shock I felt, but he’s also quick to hide it. He gets between me and the basket, as determined to keep me from scoring as I was to prevent him doing so.
We continue to play for another forty-five minutes, by which time we’re both breathing hard and desperately in need of a water break. Thirsty as I am, I almost hate to stop. The concentration required by the game has kept me from dwelling on the conversation we had in the car and the doubts it raised. Doubts about everything I’ve believed about the Sovereign since before her Acclamation.
“Here.” Sean hands me my water bottle as I join him on the next-to-bottom bleacher. “You have to need it as much as I do.” His grin is approving, even admiring.
“Thanks.” If he’s not going to mention that touch, even stronger than our last one on Tuesday, neither am I—though the sense-memory still makes my upper arms tingle. I’m more aware of Sean, his nearness, than ever.
My thoughts shy away from that awareness as I take a big swig of water, only to land on another, even scarier one—that two worlds owe their continued existence to a sixteen-year-old girl and her diplomatic skills.
Allister and Lennox, and especially Crevan Erc, can’t possibly know. They’d never be so determined to bring down the Sovereign if they knew what a huge risk that could pose to both Nuath and Earth.
I have to tell them, I realize. Sean asked me not to make the information he shared public, and I won’t. But Allister and Lennox need to know. Then they can pass the info along to Crevan Erc and the Populists can adjust their plans accordingly.
The hard part will be making them believe me.
Eager as I am to pass along what I’ve learned to Allister and Lennox, I don’t get a chance until late that night. When I first get home, Mum and Dad want me to join them on a walk around Jewel, even when I remind them I’ve already had plenty of exercise.
“It will be a perfect cool-down,” Mum says. “The weather is lovely and rain is predicted later this week. We should take advantage while we can. The winters here may not be as severe as Dun Cloch’s, but—”
“It’s still September!” I protest. But she won’t take no for an answer.
Then, after dinner, Adin
a insists I watch all the tricks she’s taught her puppy. I am grudgingly impressed when the baby animal sits, lies down and rolls over on command. Adina really does have a remarkable gift with animals.
“Now hold out your hand and tell her to shake.”
I draw back in distaste. “What?”
“Oh, come on, Kira, she won’t hurt you. Don’t be a wimp.”
“I’m not… Fine.” To humor her, I kneel down and extend a hand toward the dog. “Shake.”
To my surprise, the puppy immediately puts a paw into my hand, watching my face as though for approval.
“Good girl, Aggie,” Adina croons, patting its head. “Tell her what a good girl she is, Kira.”
Giving my sister an impatient glance, I mumble, “Um…good girl.”
The thing immediately gives a yip of delight and proceeds to crawl into my lap, its whole back end wriggling as it tries to wag its nub of a tail.
“Wait…don’t…” I protest feebly as it butts its head against me and tries to lick my face.
“Aw, look how much she likes you! I knew she would if you just gave her a chance.” Adina seems even more pleased than the puppy does.
I hold it slightly away from my body preparing to scold it for climbing on me like that. But then I look down into its eager little face and…I can’t do it. It’s so guileless, so happy, and for so little cause. And…it does act as though it likes me. Instead of a reprimand, I give it a reluctant smile instead.
“I guess she is kind of cute.” I hand her back to Adina. “But I still don’t think she should sleep in our bedroom.”
Adina grins at me, clearly savoring the victory she and Aggie have achieved over her grumpy big sister. “Can you help me with my Algebra homework?” she asks then. “I’m having trouble with some of the word problems.”