“Did they?” Navan asked, mesmerized.
“I bet they did,” Angie chimed in.
Lauren smiled. “Word reached Eshoek that his brothers were banding together to destroy that which he had built, and so his desperation grew. He offered tears to the Stargazers, lying prostrate before the starry night, begging for their divine intervention, pleading for the lives of his people, even if it meant giving his own as sacrifice.
“On the fourth day of his cries, an emissary of the Stargazers came down to greet him—”
“I knew it!” Angie whooped, and Navan and I shushed her. “Sorry,” she whispered, as Lauren continued.
“The being, otherworldly in every sense, appeared to Eshoek and asked what it was he wanted. Eshoek replied that he wished for a nation in which his people could be safe, without war tearing them asunder. He threw himself at the feet of the emissary, offering his life in exchange for those of his people—offering patience and diligence, if they would only help. When he looked up, the being was gone. Confused and dejected, Eshoek went to the highest point of the tallest tower amongst his islands and kept a keen watch on the horizon, waiting for their doom to come. He knew there was nothing more he could do for his people and pondered throwing himself from the tower. The love he felt for his people held him back, knowing he could not leave them to their fate.
“That night, a vision came to Eshoek, giving him the information he needed to retreat with his people under the ocean, where they wouldn’t be found. He set to work the following day, and though his followers thought him mad, they did as he asked. When the fleets came, manned by Sandir, Qorianka, and Chiwetel, they found the towns and villages abandoned, with no citizen left in sight. Everyone had vanished.”
“What happened next?” I whispered.
“The brothers turned on one another, fighting to the death. For years and years, the warring continued, until nobody remained but the brothers themselves. They met in neutral territory, in the town where Eshoek had resided, lamenting the actions that had brought them to that moment, where they had lost everything. As they embraced one another, as brothers, a figure emerged from the shadow of the dormant volcano that loomed over the island. Eshoek had returned at last, to offer his brothers another chance—the hope of a new, peaceful nation, ruled by all four together. They accepted his terms, each of them stunned as a steady trail of citizens emerged from the shadow of the volcano to resume their lives aboveground. Eshoek would not speak of where he had been, nor would his people. He spoke only of the Stargazers, and their gift to him. For it was they who had brought Lantea back from the edge of extinction.”
Navan whistled. “I wish my parents had read me stories like that when I was a kid.”
“A bit gory for a baby, perhaps, but fables tend to be a bit on the Grimm side.” Lauren chuckled to herself.
Angie grinned at her, nudging her in the shoulder. “Was that a joke?”
“Might’ve been.”
“That pirate boy is having quite the effect on you.”
She blushed. “He always says I’m funny, but I never know if it’s supposed to be an insult or a compliment.”
I put my arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “You are funny! I’ve been saying it for years. And it is definitely a compliment.”
“Anyway, that’s the end of that story, so make of it what you will,” Lauren said, flustered.
“Nova is going to grow up on stories of the universe,” I marveled. “Stories I never would have been able to imagine when I was a kid—they’ll all be real to her.”
Navan nodded. “She’s a child of the universe, belonging everywhere at once.”
I gazed down at her sleeping face. “I like that.”
“Me, too.”
Angie cleared her throat. “Once the pair of you have stopped making goo-goo eyes at your seriously adorable kiddo, might we pick each other’s brains about what the hell we think the fable means?”
“This story involves the Stargazers more directly than the other ones I’ve read, which might hold the key to something,” Lauren said uncertainly, her gaze drifting across the words.
I pondered the story she’d just told, trying to pinpoint anything significant. “I know the tale describes them as almighty, but maybe they’re not quite as powerful as the fable makes them out to be,” I mused.
Angie nodded. “They seem to provide knowledge instead of physical power, which sucks. I mean, they left it up to Eshoek and his people to fix their own mess, with nothing but a little spooky guidance—a fuzzy vision in the old noggin, and that’s all you get.”
“Rask, I’m hoping they can give us more than just a few ideas,” Navan muttered nervously, sending a shiver of dread up my spine. What if they were no more useful than the Voice of Judgment had been? What if they told us a load of riddles and expected us to just get on with it ourselves? Surely, they wouldn’t be considered these powerful, omniscient, almighty beings if they sat on their asses and did nothing to help. No, I couldn’t allow myself to get downhearted over the vagueness of a fable. Storytelling was important, the way the Voice had said it was, but these fables had likely been filtered down through countless generations. We had to take them with a pinch of salt.
Lauren raised her hand. “Unless the vision is a metaphor for the physical intervention. How would they have known where to go, or been able to build what they needed, without the right tools from the Stargazers? Plus, if the brothers were on their way, they’d have had to build pretty quick. Maybe it’s symbolic of what the Stargazers actually offered.”
“Ugh, this is like high school English class all over again. Didn’t like it then, don’t like it now,” Angie complained, rolling her eyes. “Do you remember how everything in those classes boiled down to sex? Literally, and metaphorically, everything was about sex. Poetry, plays, prose, old William Shakey… all sex crazy. Although, I very much doubt this little book of fables is about teenage angst and conch shells symbolizing… well, you know. Unless we look at that towering volcano. I think we can all guess what that’s symbolic of.” She arched an eyebrow, and I laughed.
“You’re getting too bogged down in the details,” a voice spoke, startling everyone. Ronad stepped into the cockpit. He’d been leaning in the shadow of the doorframe, quietly listening in. “You’ve got to think about what Eshoek asked the Stargazer who visited him. He didn’t ask for immediate security, or guns, or anything like that. He asked for a nation without war and promised to be patient. His prayer was a bigger-picture kind of prayer—he showed the Stargazers, with his words, the future he wanted to achieve, conveying his hopes for what could be.”
Lauren nodded. “I think you might be right. It fits with everything else in the tale.”
“We should keep that in mind when we talk to the Stargazers, face-to-face,” Navan agreed. “If they ask us what we want, we have to explain the bigger picture to them, showing them that we want a universe without immortal coldbloods, that we want a universe without the fear and tyranny it’d cause.”
In my mind’s eye, I saw the terrifying image that had been seared into my skull during Nova’s birth—the haunting vision of burning planets and my daughter standing at the center of it all. In that moment, I realized that what we needed to ask for was the very antithesis of that. If I could let them see into my head and ask for the opposite, maybe they would understand the desperation in our request. There was so much at stake here—too much to put into words.
“As long as they get the bigger picture, we might stand a chance of being successful,” Ronad said softly. “Anything too small or personal, and they might not go for it. They don’t seem like the kind of folks who deal in individual needs, only those of a greater group. Even with Stone, they saved an individual, but for the sake of the whole species. Had they left him to… well, you know… the ambakas as a whole would have gone extinct. There are nuances to consider.”
I let my gaze linger on Ronad a moment longer, noting that he’d been unusually
quiet since the events with the nudus shield. He had spoken in the Fed infirmary about his regrets over losing his coldblood identity, convinced he could have done more to keep the shield up if he’d still had the powers that went with being a fully-fledged coldblood. Casting him a comforting smile, I made a mental note to talk to him later, to check in on how he was feeling about everything. The two of us had been so close during our time at the Idrax house, and a big part of me wanted that tight friendship back.
Just then, Stone appeared in the doorway behind Ronad. “Ah, just the folks I were wantin’ to see,” he said, his gaze resting on Lauren. She looked back at him, her mouth opening and closing like that of a beached fish, her cheeks flushing red.
“Uh, I’m going to grab an anti-allergy tablet from the medical cupboard. My eyes are all itchy from this dust,” Lauren said rapidly, closing the book of fables and getting to her feet.
Without another word, she hurried from the room, brushing past Stone, keeping her head down. Things between the two of them had been awkward since the encounter with Kirin, especially after the girlfriend comment Lauren had made. I knew it was going to take some coaxing to get them in a room alone together, to hash out the details of what had been said and what it all meant. Hopefully, they’d get to it in their own time, but preferably before we reached Aeon. We were going to need everyone’s minds clear for our meeting with the Stargazers.
“What’s up?” Navan asked, bringing Stone’s attention back into the room, instead of on Lauren’s retreating figure.
“Aye, right… where was I?” he mumbled. “We’re gettin’ canny close to the dyin’ star, so I’ve been preparin’ the systems that’ll dangle me carrot at the Starfolk, to get ‘em to bite—me proverbial carrot, o’ course. I just wanted to come down ‘ere and check yer all grand with me course o’ action, and that yer all still want to crack on with this, ‘cause we’ve nee idea what’s gonna happen if they bite.”
“What do you mean?” Angie asked, her worried expression a reflection of my own.
“Well, we’ve no way o’ knowin’ how the cookie’s gonna crumble.”
“In simple English?”
“To put it plain to ye, lads and lasses, once we get drawn through this ‘ere gateway into Aeon, there’s no way o’ knowin’ if we’ll be able to leave again.”
Yeah… that was a problem.
Chapter Fourteen
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, sorting through the donations we’d been given for Nova, when a knock at the door distracted me. Navan stood on the threshold, leaning oh-so-coolly against the doorframe, smiling at me with the kind of grin that made any woman’s heart melt. After all of us had agreed that we did want to carry on with the journey through the gateway, no matter the dangers, I’d come to my chambers to clear my head and get some perspective on the trials to come, leaving Nova in Navan’s capable care. But our little girl was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Nova?” I asked.
“I left her with Xiphio. He volunteered, and I thought we could put the private time to good use.” He stepped toward me, a sultry look on his face. The door closed behind him.
A shiver of excitement and trepidation bristled through my nerves as he approached. I was still wary of how things had changed since giving birth to Nova, even though my body had bounced back thanks to Lazar’s injections. I was a mother now. Even without the bodily trauma, my entire mindset had changed, too.
“Oh?”
“I thought you deserved my undivided attention for a couple of hours,” he said, sinking to his knees in front of me. “After everything we’ve been through, I know we haven’t had much time for us. I thought it was time I changed that.” He pressed his hands against the mattress on either side of me and lifted up to kiss my eager mouth. My breath caught in my throat as our lips met, electricity crackling through every fiber of my being. In that moment, I felt like Riley—not a mom, not a wife, just me.
“I’ve missed this,” I murmured, running my hands through his hair.
“So have I.” He kissed me again, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer.
“If we survive all this,” I whispered, melting into his embrace, “promise me we’ll never let our love fade. Promise me there’ll always be romance.” My heart was pounding as his lips traced kisses all the way down my neck; he was taking his time to get reacquainted with every inch of me.
“I promise you there will always be love and romance between us,” he growled, nipping at my earlobe, making me gasp. “I promise my passion for you will never die. I promise, until the end of our days together, that I will scoop you in my arms and kiss you like it’s the first time.”
I believed him. Hell, I’d been having so many doubts about us making love again, but in the space of a few minutes he’d chased those worries away, and my body was eager for his touch and his kiss. I wasn’t scared about how it might feel anymore. As long as it was him and me, entwined together as one, I knew it was going to be good. It always was.
He lifted the edges of my shirt and pulled it over my head, throwing it to one side. His hands made quick work of my pants, too, helping me to stand as he shimmied them down over my hips. A grin flickered on his lips as he took in the sight of me, a deft hand unhooking my bra. I giggled as he pushed me back against the bed, burying his face in my chest, covering me in kisses. There was some tenderness and pain, thanks to the swollen breasts that Nova no longer needed. As soon as I gasped, Navan’s movements slowed, his touch more gentle and considerate.
“You’re going to have to go easy on me,” I murmured.
He looked up into my eyes. “I’ll go as slow as you want me to. I just couldn’t stay away from these.” He stared comically at my boobs, making me giggle again.
Despite the discomfort, it was the most lighthearted I’d felt in forever, and our shared laughter brought me closer to him. Our relationship had changed so much, but at the very core of our love was the warmth and silliness that kept us together, falling deeper in love every day. Reaching for his shirt, I yanked it away, relishing in the feel of his bare skin against mine, dotting fervent kisses across the rippling muscles of his torso as he scooped me up, sitting me in his lap. I’d forgotten just how sexy my husband was, but I definitely didn’t mind the reminder.
I reached for his belt, clambering out of his lap as I pulled his pants down his muscular thighs and cast them to the far side of the room. Feeling bold, I flashed him a grin and stepped out of my underwear, picking them up and spinning them around my finger before pinging them at him. He caught them in his hand, throwing them to one side as he stood up, waggling his eyebrows. A moment later, I collapsed in a fit of giggles as he attempted a brief striptease, swaying his hips from side to side and humming a faint tune as he removed his boxers, until we stood naked in front of each other.
The mood changed in an instant, our eyes meeting in a gaze of pure longing. He closed the gap between us, slipping his hands across the curve of my waist as he pulled me toward him, his mouth catching mine, our tongues exploring. He carried me to the bed and lay me down. My body arched to meet his, desperate to be entwined in his embrace. His kisses deepened, his breath catching in his throat, the graze of his lips so passionate that the world fell away, blurring the lines of reality until I didn’t know where he ended and I began. We’d done this many times before, but something felt different. Not bad different, just more relaxed—more intense somehow, as though our fierce desire for one another and our powerful bond of companionship had melded together, creating something more satisfying than ever before.
Curled up in Navan’s arms, I stirred from my nap, stretching like a cat that had gotten the cream. Grinning at the memory of the last few hours, I curved closer to his body, fitting mine to the contour of his, loving every moment of being in his embrace, so safe and secure, without a worry in the world. At least, I could pretend that was the truth for a little while longer.
“Rise and shine, beautiful,” he whispered, holdi
ng me tighter. “Can we just stay here for the rest of our lives?”
I chuckled. “I wish we could.”
He dipped his head, kissing my neck. “Maybe, if we’re really quiet, we can get a couple more hours together.”
“When you’re around, there’s no way I can be quiet.”
He kissed me again, laughing softly. “I love you so much.”
Our delirious bubble of private happiness burst a moment later, to the sound of people whispering outside the bedroom door. I sat up, frowning. It sounded like Bashrik and Angie, arguing over who should wake us up.
“What if they’re… you know…?” Bashrik muttered. “I don’t need to see my brother in the nude, thank you very much. He was always running around naked when he was a kid. I don’t ever want to see that again, now that he’s grown up.”
“Well, why should I have to do it? They’ve earned a bit of alone time together—you were the one who insisted we wake them up.”
“Yeah, a bit of alone time together, not four hours of alone time!”
Angie sighed loudly. “I wish I could get four hours of ‘alone time.’”
“Hey, there’s no need to get personal. You’re the one who’s always complaining that you just want to go to sleep.”
“Because you insist on all the massages and the oils and the music and the staring into each other’s eyes for hours on end! By the time we get down to the good stuff, I’m already exhausted! Anyway, I say we leave them a while longer. They’ll come out when they’re good and ready. I’m not interrupting my girl having a good time, not after what she’s been through. She deserves to get wild and, you know, make sure all the bits and pieces are in full working order after pushing a kid out of—”
“I get the picture, Ange. Do you always have to be so vulgar?”
“I’m not being vulgar, I’m just telling it how it is. Now, are you going to knock or what? There’s a slice of cake with my name on it, and I refuse to keep it waiting.”
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