Tarnished Are the Stars

by Rosiee Thor

  Anna took the glass, wrapping her fingers around it as if it was Nathaniel’s trust, delicate and, somehow, valuable. She swabbed her skin with the alcohol, cringing at the smell before leveling the needle, the morning light now bright enough to see by. Only after she’d located a vein and blood had begun to pool in the vial did she glance up at Nathaniel.

  His face had gone ashy white.

  “It isn’t so bad,” Anna said, doing her best to reassure him.

  “I think I’ll close my eyes.” Nathaniel looked away and stuck out his arm. “Don’t warn me when you’re about to do it. It will be worse if I know it’s coming.”

  Anna removed the needle from her arm and capped the vial. She was so used to blood, it never occurred to her that others might not be. Even in Thatcher’s operating room, she’d been shocked to find that some patients fainted at the sight of blood. It struck her that Nathaniel probably had had little to do with doctors in the past. He would not have been able to receive medical care in the Settlement without the risk of exposing his tech. Thatcher may have been his one and only physician all those years ago.

  With as much confidence as she could muster, Anna took out a new needle and repeated the procedure on Nathaniel. To his credit, he flinched only twice, but he did not open his eyes again until Anna told him it was safe.

  “What now?” he asked, pressing his lavender cravat against the wound to stop the blood.

  “I’m not sure.” Thatcher usually tested blood for iron levels, but she’d only ever watched him do it. She didn’t even know how to test for other things—or even what to test for. But if she told this to Nathaniel, it wouldn’t exactly inspire confidence, and she needed to keep them moving forward toward an answer, even if she didn’t quite know what the question was. “We’ll need a control sample as well from someone unaffected.” She set the vials on Nathaniel’s desk, returning her tools to her satchel.

  Nathaniel gave her a quizzical look. “Good luck getting Eliza to roll up her sleeves for you.”

  Anna blinked away the image of Eliza, not Nathaniel, standing before her, looking up at her with vulnerable eyes. A gentle prickle ran up her spine at the thought of Eliza’s delicate skin, so perfect it would almost be a shame to puncture it.

  Anna’s stomach flipped, but she ignored it. “Perhaps we should wait—let her have her beauty rest.” Not that she needed it. Anna rolled her eyes dramatically, as much at the pink girl as at herself, and then glanced at Nathaniel to see if he’d noticed.

  But Nathaniel’s eyes were trained on the vials she’d abandoned.

  Anna followed his gaze, and her breath caught. Dawn trickled over the horizon, sending coils of light across the room, but this was more than just a trick of the light, a mirage of sun and sleepless eyes.

  The twin vials sat side by side, but where deep red blood had been before, a soft golden light emanated from the samples inside.

  “What is it?” Nathaniel asked in a whisper.

  Anna had no answer, no hypothesis, not even a wild guess, but from the depths of her mind crawled the image of a dusty-blue book and a nervous daughter afraid to give away her mother’s secrets. Ruby’s book was still in her satchel, and a word rose unbidden from Anna’s throat like a memory she didn’t know she had.

  “Alchemy.”

  Eliza needed a hot bath, a nap, and a change of clothes. After the night she’d had, she richly deserved all three, but she had time for only one.

  Throwing open the closet doors to her bedroom, she scanned the dozens of dresses hanging inside for a suitable alternative to her pink traveling dress. One of the Commissioner’s servants must have unpacked her things the night prior; the garments hung haphazardly with no discernible organizational pattern. She would have to do it herself later. With so many new dresses, Eliza would need to mentally inventory each, cataloging every possible use for her expansive wardrobe.

  Casting her mind to her purpose today, Eliza’s hands drifted toward a mauve creation. She could be unassuming in mauve, unthreatening. But why continue to play the part when Nathaniel already knew her for what she was? She didn’t need to perpetuate the lie the Queen had built for her. The Queen was far away, in her silver palace in the sky. She would be no help to Eliza here. Still, she wasn’t exactly alone.

  The decision to bring Nathaniel into the fold had been easy, albeit risky. Seeing how his father treated him, holding him at arm’s length, talking about him rather than to him, Eliza’s instinct had been to be the opposite. Where the Commissioner was alienating, she would be welcoming. Where the Commissioner excluded him, she would include him. It was her best tactic to gain the boy’s trust, which was the only direction the Queen had given her thus far.

  Anna, on the other hand, had already proven to be useful, despite her treacherous start. They’d make a solid team, though Eliza might someday regret letting the redhead come at her with a knife and live to tell the tale.

  A quiet beeping sound interrupted Eliza’s musings. She spun around, searching for the source. From across the room, Eliza was met with a blinking green light—the holocom the Queen had given her. Rushing to answer the call, Eliza keyed in her passcode and stepped back.

  A blue hologram appeared—a small replica of the Queen, veil and all, sitting at her desk, a cup of tea in hand.

  “Y-Your Majesty!” Eliza sank into a curtsy. She hoped for her own sake the Queen had not been waiting long.

  “Finally! You ought to carry the holocom with you. It would be unfortunate if I couldn’t contact my one trusted agent planetside.”

  Eliza’s chest warmed. The Queen trusted her—she’d nearly forgotten. This mission was not banishment, not exile. It was important, whatever the Queen had sent her to do.

  “Quite right, Your Majesty.”

  The Queen tilted her head to the left. “Well? Report.”

  Eliza straightened, suddenly conscious of the sleepless bags beneath her eyes and the chaos of curls escaping her hat. Though she looked a mess, she would endeavor to be professional.

  “I’ve not had a chance to investigate the manor much, Your Majesty. I’ve been planetside only fourteen hours. I can tell you very little, I expect.”

  The Queen waved her hand. “Tell it so we can move on.”

  “Of course.” Eliza cleared her throat to stall for time. So much had happened since she’d arrived, and yet none of it seemed relevant. The Commissioner was unpleasant, his son far more complex than she’d expected. She couldn’t tell the Queen about the struggle in the garden. That would mean telling her about their plans, and Eliza could not afford for the Queen to know those details yet. The Queen had sent her there to be a spy, not to topple the Commissioner’s regime. And it would mean telling her about Anna, and Eliza wasn’t ready to put voice to the girl whose ferocity stuck with her, like earth beneath her fingernails.

  “The Commissioner is, as you said, stubborn and guarded,” Eliza began slowly, weighing her words. “But he’s emotional when it comes to his son, frustrated by the boy’s disposition. Could be a weakness.”

  The Queen scoffed. “People can be precious about their children. I can’t imagine where he learned that.”

  Eliza tried not to wince. She would not feel sorry for the Commissioner, no matter how fraught his own childhood might have been. The Queen had not treated him so unjustly, for the Queen was always fair, always measured. Had he been a better son, more loyal, more talented, she would have loved him better.

  She would love Eliza better.

  But even as she thought it, Eliza felt a pang. Was that not the same logic that had harmed Nathaniel so, his desperation for a father’s love, and a father who couldn’t give it?

  As discomfort settled through her, Eliza changed course. “Your Majesty, if you could give me more direction, perhaps I could use my time here to do your will more effectively.”

  The Queen laced her fingers together. “You’ve done well, my dear, but do not make the mistake of thinking this will be a quick mission. You must ear
n your new family’s trust. You must become a fixture, a permanent piece of the decor. You must position yourself so when the time is right, you can infiltrate the Commissioner’s offices, and no one will question your right to be there. And if that doesn’t yield what I need, you must infiltrate his confidence, earn his trust, and take his secrets.”

  Eliza nodded slowly, her heart sinking. Had she made a mistake, thinking she should take on the Commissioner? She knew she could do it; he was no different from any other man she’d had the pleasure of ruining, and he would be no more challenging. But the Queen had said it herself—this was not a quick mission. Eliza had thought if she could eliminate the Commissioner, it would speed things along. With the Commissioner dethroned, she could take his power, and with his power, she could take everything else. But what if whatever the Queen wanted wasn’t tangible? Eliza was good, but even she could not retrieve an idea from a dead man’s head.

  “The Commissioner has put us all at risk, Eliza. You know it is my life’s work—the work of my mother, and her mother before, to bring everyone planetside, to retire this space station to the stars and embrace our earthly home.”

  “Of course,” Eliza murmured, but a part of her still yearned to return to the steel hallways in the sky.

  “We are much closer to that future than you may even realize. At this very moment, the Commissioner is keeping vital information that would help lead us to that eventuality, holding back the secret to finally terraforming this planet fully so that we may all safely descend and live as we once did, hundreds of years ago on Former Earth.”

  “But why?” Eliza asked, fearing the answer almost as much as she craved it.

  “To keep the glory for himself.” The Queen sighed, her veil fluttering. “He cares not for the generations of our family who turned this lifeless rock into a lush and vibrant planet, nor the people living on it now.”

  Eliza’s breath caught. “What do you mean, the people living here now?”

  The Queen waved her hand dismissively. “Without proper terraforming, the planet has the potential to cause all sorts of health problems in the population.”

  “Like heart disorders?”

  “Certainly. Or other unexplainable illness, birth defects—it’s simply unsafe. I cannot responsibly retire the Tower while our planet is so unstable,” the Queen continued. “It would be unconscionable to bring my people to Earth Adjacent while the Commissioner still withholds this information.”

  Eliza’s thumb rubbed the skin of her forearm raw as she listened. She’d spent the last several hours focused on problems not her own, finding ways to make Anna’s and Nathaniel’s goals align with hers. But was it possible they were more connected than she realized? With the context the Queen provided, Anna’s story suddenly made more sense, and the Commissioner she’d met and the Commissioner the Queen described overlapped far more convincingly than the murderous monster Anna had made him out to be.

  If the Commissioner hadn’t poisoned Anna’s village, and instead simply neglected to provide them the proper terraforming technology, Eliza could connect his methods to motives with exactly the same result. Anna’s people were dying, and it was the Commissioner’s fault. She could use this to fuel the fire of Anna’s rage while controlling its direction.

  The Queen was still talking when Eliza emerged from her thoughts.

  “My ancestors knew they would never live to see the day Earth Adjacent became our permanent home, but still they pushed for a better world. The Commissioner thinks if he can outlive me, he can claim this victory for himself, forgetting the women who came before, the women who made this planet—who made him. But you, Eliza, you will not betray me as he has. You will protect me and my legacy, will you not?”

  “Of course,” Eliza said, her body humming with possibility. This was her destiny, her chance to make history. This was how she could earn the Queen’s respect, the Queen’s love. She’d already begun the preparations, and with Nathaniel’s and Anna’s cooperation, she would find the Commissioner’s secret, she would crush him, and she would take his place as the Queen’s heir.

  Some of Eliza’s mirth must have shown on her face, for the Queen leaned in and said, “Be careful, Eliza. The Commissioner can be a dangerous foe.”

  “As can I,” Eliza murmured as the Queen’s image faded away.

  Eliza stared at the vanity. For a moment, she’d forgotten they were separated by steel walls and a starry sky. It had felt as it used to, the Queen giving commands and Eliza taking them. The Queen’s instructions had made Eliza what she was, who she was.

  And who was she today? Eliza the spy, hiding in plain sight, waiting and watching? Or Eliza the rebel, taking what she wanted regardless of her orders?

  She turned back to the wardrobe, but instead of choosing a gown befitting either, she reached for the pale pink tea dress she’d worn the day the Queen gave her this mission. This Eliza was neither and both, somewhere in between. She was the girl who’d dreamt of belonging, of respect, the girl who’d navigated the world easily, wielding secrets, not keeping them.

  Eliza couldn’t be that girl again. Too much had changed. But she wore the dress anyway, finding comfort in the familiar cotton folds. She smoothed out the creases and combed her hair back with her fingers. Lastly, almost as an afterthought, she lifted the holocom from the vanity and slipped it into her pocket.

  Sharp pain lanced her finger, and she yelped. A bloody pinprick dotted the end of her finger. She knew this pain, she knew this wound. She withdrew the culprit with a careful hand, laying the remains of the rose she’d taken from Lord Farley weeks ago, forgotten in her dress pocket.

  The carcass of the flower, petals dry and withered, color faded, was somehow still as lovely as it had been when she’d found it—still as dangerous, too. She twirled the stem between her uninjured fingers, catching golden rays of morning light. How odd that in death, the flower could shine, glittering like the Queen’s court, light tracing golden veins through translucent petals.

  Eliza blinked, and it was only a dead flower again. The light, or sleeplessness, had tricked her into believing it was more. She discarded it on the vanity where it could do no more harm. But even still, something dragged her back.

  Because no matter how she viewed it, vibrant or dull, soft or hard, alive or dead, it was still a flower at its core. Beneath all the lace, she, too, would be unchanged. It had been years since Eliza had gone without a costume, without a mask, and when the time finally came to shed her armor, Eliza didn’t know who she’d find underneath.

  Nathaniel hadn’t bled very often—sometimes his father would hit him a little too hard, but even then, Nathaniel didn’t usually examine his wounds closely.

  But blood didn’t glow—not naturally, anyway.

  No, if his blood was glowing, there was only one explanation. Only Nathaniel didn’t believe in magic. He didn’t believe in things like true love or mismatched socks, either.

  “It’s not possible,” Anna said as she charged down the hall.

  Nathaniel hurried to keep up with her long legs. He was supposed to be leading her to Eliza’s room, not the other way around. He should have been in front, looking out for the Commissioner. If he found Anna running around the manor, well, Nathaniel didn’t know what he would do.

  “It must be the poison.” Anna’s voice sounded strained, and she slowed as they came to a fork in the hallway.

  “To the left,” Nathaniel said, nearly jogging now. “So do you think the poison is—” He swallowed, mustering the courage to say the word aloud, but instead of alchemy it came out, “Magic?”

  Anna didn’t reply, her eyes trained on the end of the hallway, arms swinging.

  Nathaniel had to reach for the back of her shirt—his shirt, really—and pull to stop her in time. He gestured to the door. “You wanted her blood sample, right?”

  She glared at him but reached for the doorknob anyhow, her hand closing around the metal with firm determination. “It’s not magic. There’s no s
uch thing.”

  Nathaniel nodded, though her words lacked conviction.

  “It’s not magic,” she repeated before pushing open the door.

  “In polite society, we knock.” Eliza stood by the vanity, its mirrors reflecting an army of Elizas back at them.

  Nathaniel stepped forward instinctually, ready to put himself between them the way Eliza had done for him and Anna the night before, but there was no need.

  Neither girl moved to strike the other. Instead, Anna let out a tinny laugh and said, “Polite society sounds dull.” She shrugged and set her satchel down on an armchair by the door. “We need your help.”

  “Well, are you going to enlighten me first?” Eliza asked, eyes trained on Anna. “It would be ever so rude for you to barge into my bedroom, demanding my help, only to deny my curiosity yet again.”

  Anna’s cheeks turned an alarming shade, but she cleared her throat. “Right. Of course.”

  As she explained their conditions to Eliza, their suspicions and their findings, Anna morphed from hostile outlaw into the same girl who’d taught Nathaniel about his TICCER for the first time, the girl who’d shown him how to see his own worth. Only minutes ago, he’d witnessed the same transformation when he’d been nervous about her taking his blood. He’d expected her to tease and taunt him, but instead she’d shown sympathy, understanding that everything she took for granted, he found new and unnerving.

  Which was she, really—enemy or equal?

  If he couldn’t trust her to be one or the other, he’d have to accept she could be both. Just as tech could be right as well as wrong, and the golden sheen to their blood could be both magic and science. The duality of Anna, of the way she saw the world, spread through him like tree roots, digging deep into the earth and taking hold.

  “It’s all a bit confusing,” Anna said, wrapping up her explanation weakly.

  “That’s certainly an understatement.” Eliza lowered herself onto the edge of the vanity. “How do you plan to use any of this against the Commissioner? Not to be pessimistic, but no one’s going to believe anything you say about glowing blood—and even if they did …” She trailed off, eyes falling to her knees for a moment. “Glowing blood—you really did say glowing blood, right?”