“Apparently not,” Xiphio replied, his tone a little curt. “Now, you know where to find me if you require my assistance with anything.” He turned and strode toward the exit, his head hung low, his shoulders slumped. Evidently, the poor guy was hurt.
“I should probably go after him,” Lauren mumbled, getting up off her stool.
I shook my head, stopping her. “No, it’s okay. I’ll catch up with him. I’m sure it’s nothing—he’s probably just stressed or something.” We both knew it was a lie, but the last person Xiphio needed to see right now was Lauren. There was nothing she could say or do to cheer him up, unless she got a sudden impulse to declare her undying love. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t look like that was going to happen anytime soon.
I left Stone and Lauren to their conversation, hurrying out of the kitchen to catch up with Xiphio. The merevin moved faster than I expected, and it took me a couple of minutes to find him in one of the side rooms that branched off from the main corridor. He was sitting in the corner of a small observatory, staring out at the endless vacuum of space. The poor guy looked devastated, his chin resting on his hand.
I knocked on the open doorframe, not wanting to burst in and startle him. “Hey, Xiphio.”
He turned slowly, trying to change the expression on his face. “Is something the matter?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“I am fine, Miss Riley. You should not worry yourself about my welfare.”
I walked toward him and sat down in the chair opposite. “You don’t seem fine to me, Xiphio. Clearly, something is on your mind that you don’t want to share with the rest of us. I can understand that, but you might find it helps if you talk to me about whatever is bothering you.”
“I’m fine, Miss Riley.”
“No, you’re not,” I said softly. “You’re in pain, and as your friend, I’m worried about you.”
He sighed, turning his gaze out toward the window again. “It’s irrational. I do not wish to trouble you with my trivial concerns.”
“Please, Xiphio, tell me what’s upsetting you. I hate seeing you like this.”
He sighed. “The thing is… ever since Stone awakened from his coma, Miss Lauren has been at his side. She has barely left him for a moment, and while I understand that she has been nursing him, and he has been in need of assistance, I cannot help my feelings of overwhelming envy,” he explained miserably. “I adore Miss Lauren with every fiber of my being, and I know that I’m foolish for allowing myself to get so downhearted about something as trivial as love, considering everything else going on around us, but I cannot help the intense feelings I possess for that delightful woman. It physically brings me discomfort to see her with him, and to see her falling more deeply in love with him with each day that passes.”
“I don’t know if that’s true, Xiphio.”
He cast me a sad look. “You have not seen them as I have, Miss Riley. You have not seen how their affections have progressed,” he said. “Truly, I wish I could erase every memory I have of her, so that I may continue to exist without experiencing this heartbreak. You see, I’m not a selfish man, Riley. I do not wish to possess her for myself, damning all others. My sole wish is for Lauren to be happy, even if that means she is with Stone. However, I cannot watch while another man basks in the warmth of her love. It shall shatter me into a thousand pieces, despite my desires for her to be happy. I shall have to know of her happiness from a distance; otherwise, I shan’t survive.”
I wanted to reach over and wrap the poor merevin in the tightest bear hug. I didn’t know what to tell him to make things better. There was no quick fix for heartache, and I had a feeling it would be a long time until he got over Lauren. Yet, I knew he meant it when he said he wanted her to be happy; he just couldn’t be around to watch the love grow between Stone and Lauren. I could understand that. I really could.
“I’m sorry…” was all I managed.
He smiled sadly. “Anyway, my personal problems pale in comparison to what faces us,” he said. “I have deeper worries concerning your beautiful little girl and her sweetblood reliance. For such a fate to befall one so young hardly seems fair. Truly, myself and the others, and any Fed agents I can persuade to assist, shall endeavor to ensure that Ezra and Aurelius pay for what they have done to you and your daughter. It may not be anytime soon, but we shall ensure that justice is delivered, one of these days.”
“That warms my heart, Xiphio,” I said, giving him a watery smile.
“I pray that it comforts you. However, I have some concerns, as I have said, regarding what may happen once we reach Vitriol Tower to request sweetblood from the Voice of Judgment.”
“You think we might have some trouble getting it?” I asked.
A flicker of worry passed across his huge eyes. “Not exactly. You see, though I have never asked the Voice of Judgement for anything myself, one of my fellow agents told me a tale once. This was prior to his acceptance into the Federation. He had broken down close by and required fuel. The Voice gave him the fuel, as requested, but soon after, he discovered that the fuel had been traded by a traveling family who were in need of nourishment. My fellow agent happened to rescue them from being stranded on a nearby moon, picking up the rescue beacon upon his return to his home planet. They, too, had run out of fuel, as they had exchanged much of it for the food they needed.” He paused. “So, I fear the Voice of Judgment may supply whatever the wisher asks for, but not always in the way we might expect.”
“You’re worried about what price we might end up paying in return?” I asked, my chest tightening.
Xiphio nodded.
“You don’t think it’ll be a straightforward exchange?”
“I do not, Miss Riley.”
I was about to delve deeper into what he thought about the Voice of Judgment when a knock interrupted us. Bashrik stepped into the room a moment later, carrying Nova in the curve of his wing, the same way Navan had carried her when we were running from the shifters. Weirdly, I felt jealous, wanting wings of my own so I could hold her like that.
From the sound of her grumbling, she was hungry for more sweetblood, though we were getting worryingly low on supplies. After what Xiphio had just told me, I was even more nervous about her future, and what price we might have to pay in return for enough sweetblood to last us. Nova would likely need sweetblood for the rest of her life. The growth serum she’d been given as a fetus had somehow made it a part of her, making it a requirement for her to live. A necessary evil that she couldn’t rid herself of—not the way I could. I had an addiction that could eventually be overcome.
“There you are,” Bashrik muttered. “I’ve been looking all over the ship for you.”
“Sorry, I was coming to get her when the others distracted me. What’s up?” I got to my feet and walked over to him, glancing down at Nova, whose cheeks were a bright, angry red.
“She’s been fidgeting and acting strange,” Bashrik explained. “Ronad keeps swinging and jiggling her, but nothing helps. She’s in some kind of mood.”
I smiled. “She’s probably just hungry. It’s been six hours since her last vial of sweetblood, so she’s due for a feeding. Did you not try Navan?”
Bashrik shook his head. “I didn’t want to wake him. He looked totally out of it, so I thought I’d come and find you instead.”
“Yeah, he was sleeping like the dead when I left him.” I wished I had his ability to sleep soundlessly, drifting off for hours on end without a care in the world.
Eager to hold my girl again, and feeling a little guilty about getting distracted, I reached over and took Nova from Bashrik’s wing, cradling her in my arms. I was starting to feel the familiar itch and discomfort of my sweetblood withdrawal creeping through my veins—it had been six hours since I’d taken a drop. Although, there was nothing like the adrenaline of the past few days to take the edge off my cravings. I still wanted the sweetblood with every cell in my body, but it was getting slightly easier to deal
with. Nova’s need, on the other hand, would never let up. I wanted it, she needed it.
“Are we on course?” Xiphio asked.
Bashrik nodded. “Yeah, we should be there by the end of tomorrow at the latest, though I’m punching the engines to try and get us there sooner.”
The moment of our arrival was drawing closer and closer, but now the thought of getting there filled me with dread. I had known it wouldn’t be a simple exchange; otherwise, anyone could ask for anything. Clearly, as with most things, the value of what was given had to match the value of what was taken, but I hadn’t expected things to be so twisted.
Once again, I found myself terrified for Nova’s future. But, more than that, I was worried about asking more from the Voice of Judgment. If we continued with our plan and requested something to help us in our fight against the immortality elixir, what kind of price would we have to pay? Would information about the Stargazers cost us more than we could afford, one way or the other?
Chapter Nine
We arrived at Vitriol Tower the following evening, landing at the overcrowded docking port outside the space station just after midnight.
Most of us had slept all day, with Bashrik, Ronad, Navan, and Stone taking turns to man the pilot’s chair. The docking port was like a cattle yard, packed to the rafters with ships of all shapes and sizes crammed into a relatively small space. Bringing whatever we had that might be valuable, we took a side exit out of the docking port and headed down a long, winding corridor into the main body of the space station.
Even with the passes that Xiphio had managed to acquire for us, we ended up in a snaking line that seemed to go on forever, coiling all the way up to the top floor of the Tower. This was going to be a long wait, especially with Nova down to her last bottle of sweetblood. She’d had half of one that morning and another half a few hours ago, and we were keeping the final vial in reserve for when she started to scream her head off. There were other lines meandering through the space station, and our lines passed every now and then, though they seemed to have longer waiting times than ours. I felt sorry for them, seeing their miserable faces eyeing our line with envy.
“Would you care for a drink, sweetling?” a voice asked, an hour into our wait. I was getting woozy on my feet, exhaustion catching up with me. I still hadn’t managed to get a proper night’s sleep, as my mind was constantly racing with worry.
I glanced at the speaker, who stood ahead of me in the line. Everything from her nose downward was shrouded in a strip of shimmering scarlet fabric, the material sweeping up and over her head, so all I could see were two golden eyes peering at me from the top edge of the material. A hint of golden flesh could be seen between her eyes and above a hairless brow, but that was it. The texture of her skin looked strange, too, as though it were covered in millions of minuscule jewels that glittered when the light caught it. Her voice sounded ancient, though it was difficult to decipher her age with so much of her face and body covered.
“What are you drinking?” I asked, my mouth parched.
“A simple brew of hot water and dried fruits, to soothe the mind.”
I smiled. “I would love some.”
“Here you are, my sweetling,” she said, plucking a ceramic cup out of nowhere and pouring some pale purple liquid into it. She handed it to me, watching me with kind eyes as I lifted the cup to my nose and inhaled the sweet aroma. It smelled so good and tasted even better, a sugary, sour tang tingling on my taste buds as the liquid slipped down.
“Thank you. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“The name’s Namjoo, sweetling, and who might you be?”
“Riley.” I gestured to the others, who were chatting away behind me. “That’s my husband, Navan, and my friends—Xiphio, Stone, Lauren, and Angie.” Bashrik and Ronad had stayed behind to watch the ship. Xiphio had warned that a Fed vessel might draw some attention out here at Vitriol Tower, so they’d volunteered to stay.
The strange lady chuckled. “Quite the bunch.”
“Yeah, I suppose so.” A smile crept onto my lips. “What can I say, we like to pick up waifs and strays.”
“Glad to hear it! So many species have a superiority complex these days; it’s refreshing to see such happy integration, the way it ought to be.”
“I agree.”
“What is it you do for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I frowned. “We do a lot of things, to help people across the universe, though I suppose you could call us travelers, for the most part.”
“What a delightful occupation.” Namjoo clapped her hands together. “My son wants to be an explorer one day.”
“Your son?”
She nodded. “He’s the reason I’m here at the Tower. He has been missing for several months. I last heard from him near here, when he sent me a distress call, but there has been no contact since. I am hopeful he may be in one of the Judgment Compounds, awaiting a verdict from the Voice. Sometimes, the judgment is immediate. Other times, it takes a while. There are people who have been here for years, awaiting their assistance from the Voice. It is why some often give in long before, and leave again, though there are many who do not have the luxury of leaving without an answer.”
I stared at her in shock, losing my voice for a moment. People had been waiting here for years? I didn’t want to be selfish, but I started to worry that we might be here for years, too. I mean, we’d been given those passes to help move us more quickly through the system, but what if “quickly” meant months instead of years, or weeks instead of months? I didn’t have enough sweetblood for that. Looking ahead and behind, I noticed the desperation in people’s eyes. How long had they been here?
I cleared my throat. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Have you been waiting here long?”
“I shall receive word of him soon enough. The Voice shall speak, and it will deliver, I am certain of it.” Her eyes twinkled with hope. “As for my time here, I was in a different line for almost a fortnight, but a kind stranger offered me their pass earlier today, allowing me to join in this line instead.”
“At least you won’t be waiting too much longer.”
I hoped neither of us would be, though I felt bad for putting myself in the same category as her, when she’d already been here for two weeks. In comparison, we’d barely been waiting at all. Still, I had no idea how long we might be here for—what stretch of time lay between us and the Hall of the Voice of Justice.
“No indeed, I shall have news of my Jimin soon enough,” she replied.
“Is that your son?” I asked, wanting to take my mind off the subject.
She pressed her hands to her chest, her long sleeves falling back to reveal more of the curious golden skin. “It is, sweetling. He is my pride and joy. Truly, he is all I have left in this world.”
“So, you think he might be here? I mean, if you last heard from him somewhere close to here, then it seems reasonable that he might have come to the Tower to ask for fuel or repairs for his ship, to get home to you.”
“That is my hope, sweetling. I hope he may be here, so we may be joined in the Judgment Compounds, and I may take him home with me. Perhaps I might be the very thing he has asked for, and he is awaiting me as we speak.”
I remembered what Xiphio had said about the Voice’s tricky ways and wondered whether she might be right. After all, it would mean the Voice had delivered, even though it hadn’t actually lifted a finger to help directly.
“I hope you’re reunited, Namjoo,” I murmured.
“And I hope the Voice delivers what you want, too.”
Another eight hours and endless cups of fruit tea later, we reached the top floor of Vitriol Tower. A gigantic set of double doors stood in front of us, with two guards letting in a person or group at a time, drawing them from each of the four lines that ended in the same foyer. The guards chose from our line more often than the others, letting ten consecutive people go in before choosing a person from one of the other lines.
Namj
oo went in ahead of us, looking hunched and vulnerable as she stepped through alone. I wished her good luck before she entered, and I guessed the exit was on the other side of what lay beyond the double doors, because she didn’t come back out again.
Ordinarily, I would’ve worried that we were all going to get murdered in some horrible way, but Xiphio had already assured me that this place was safe and, for the most part, death-free. People died in the awful conditions of the Judgment Compounds, but they didn’t die by the Voice’s hand… unless that was what they asked for.
And then, it was our turn.
The guards ushered us in as a group, though we’d already decided to split our requests so that each person asked for something different, instead of all asking for the same thing. I wasn’t sure if it was a one-person, one-wish deal, or if this Voice would let us ask for multiple things at once. It seemed easier to spread the load, just in case.
“Is it just me, or does this place scream Wizard of Oz?” Angie whispered as we entered a vast cavern of a room. I guessed this was supposed to be the Hall of the Voice of Judgment. It shattered the solemnity that had rested over our lengthy wait. Her eyes widened. “Wait, does that make me Dorothy?”
I grinned. “No, I think that makes you the Scarecrow.”
“You take that back!” She flashed me a smile. “I guess that makes you the Tinman, you heartless wench.”
The hall itself reminded me of an airplane hangar, with vaulted ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the emptiness of space. I imagined that, if I got close enough, I’d be able to see the metal domes of the Judgment Compounds and docking ports below and above, but guards lined the central aisle, preventing us from veering off course. Everything echoed, including our footsteps, as we walked across the slippery chrome floor toward a throne-like chair that sat atop a plinth at the far side. Agreeing with Angie, I half expected a big green face to appear, though what actually happened couldn’t have been further from it.
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