Tarnished Are the Stars

by Rosiee Thor

  The answer came to Nathaniel as natural as a breath.

  He would.

  Nathaniel and Anna had been through so much already—he’d taken her captive, she’d escaped, he’d accidentally killed her friend, and she’d turned around and tried to kill him right back. But never had he seen Anna afraid until now. Though he’d no idea how he’d put the hidden door back on its hinges or explain his absence from the ballroom to his father, Nathaniel knew he couldn’t ask her to stay.

  “Go,” he said. “You have to go.”

  She’d gotten him this far. He’d do the rest alone.

  Eliza’s feet ached, but her heart soared high above the dance floor. Whirling about a glittering hall, every eye was pointed her direction, every gentleman clamoring for the opportunity to claim her next dance. Back home on the Tower, she would have counted herself lucky to have a dance card half-full.

  “Miss Eliza, the next foxtrot, if you please?”

  “Miss Eliza, do me the honor of a waltz?”

  Eliza had to admit, Earth Adjacent was growing on her. Here on Earth Adjacent, it did not matter that she came from nothing, that she had no family name to flaunt. She was the newest jewel in the Commissioner’s court, the most important lady in the Settlement. She was from the Tower, and that was enough.

  Of course, she couldn’t let herself enjoy the night too much. Anna and Nathaniel were hard at work, and it would be a poor repayment of their time if she didn’t do her best to help. Turning down several partners in favor of the Commissioner was not Eliza’s idea of a grand time, but she would endure his company until Anna and Nathaniel returned. At least he was a competent dancer.

  But the quickstep she’d been meant to share with her fiancé came and went with no sign of her cohorts. What was taking so long? She couldn’t divert the Commissioner forever. Even he would eventually notice his son’s absence.

  Rather than dance to yet another fast song, she pled exhaustion and stepped outside the ballroom where the courtiers could not bombard her with invitations. No one who’d paid any attention could blame her for needing a break after fifteen dances in a row. Still, she traipsed away from the entrance, slowly making her way toward the Commissioner’s office.

  Over an hour had passed since she’d left Anna in her corner of the ballroom. The poor girl was not made for sophisticated society, every essence of her being clashing with the elegance around her. Not a soul on the Tower would consider her a suitable wall decoration, let alone a proper partner. She could practically hear Lord Farley’s jarring voice in her head calling her uncivilized.

  None of that would matter once Eliza completed her mission. No one would dare question her—or her choice in companionship—once the Queen had publicly declared Eliza her heir. The Commissioner would fall, and Eliza would rise, and she’d bring Anna and Nathaniel up with her.

  If only she could find them.

  Before Eliza could get far in her search, she heard a gentle pinging sound.

  “Not now,” she grumbled, ducking into a closet before withdrawing the holocom from her dress pocket. “Your Majesty?”

  The Queen stuttered into view, blue and transparent, on the surface of the holocom.

  “It’s been three days, Eliza,” the Queen said.

  Eliza nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Well? What have you found?”

  Eliza blinked rapidly. What could she possibly have found in three days given next to no instruction? But Eliza couldn’t ask. Yet another lesson she’d learned from the Queen herself.

  Cultivate your conversations as though they are works of art for all to see, she’d told her once. Paint only the strokes of which you’re certain, for just like with paint you can never truly take back a poorly chosen word, or a poorly chosen hue. You may cover it up, but the mistake will always be there beneath the surface.

  Eliza would never bring herself to lie to the Queen, but neither could she be free with her words now. She swallowed her frustration and said instead, “I’m actually in the middle of a search operation, Your Majesty. I hope to have something to share with you soon.”

  “Make it sooner rather than later.”

  Eliza could not help herself. “Didn’t you expect this to be a lengthy operation, Your Majesty? I’m still installing myself here as you directed—”

  “Our agenda has changed,” the Queen snapped. “I spoke with the Commissioner earlier this evening, and he made his intentions clear. The last obstacle in his governance is about to be made obsolete. Without it, he will cement himself as the leader of Earth Adjacent, relegating me to a mere footnote of history.”

  Eliza swallowed, the waver in the Queen’s voice coiling around Eliza’s heart. She knew all too well the Commissioner’s track record with powerful women he wanted to erase. If he’d done it to his own wife, he could do it to his mother. And without the Queen, Eliza’s chance to climb her way to the top would be over. This would be her summit, and the rest of her journey would be a descent.

  “I can’t afford to wait for you to infiltrate slowly anymore.” The Queen shook her head, veil swinging before her face. “This is no longer an undercover operation. I know how you love your masks and manipulations, but you’ll have to give up your pretense and get the job done.”

  Eliza clenched her fist. It had been at the Queen’s insistence that she take on this secret identity in the first place. It had been the Queen who’d kept her in the dark about her mission, and the Queen who’d taught her every trick she had. For her to turn it all on Eliza, to place the frustration she had with the Commissioner on Eliza’s shoulders—well, simply put, it was unfair.

  But nothing had ever been fair in Eliza’s experience. Now would be an odd time for it to start.

  “I understand, Your Majesty,” Eliza said, enunciating carefully. “What is my mission?”

  The Queen let out a long breath, her veil rippling, and said, “The secret to fully terraforming the planet lies somewhere in the Commissioner’s manor—the cure for their planetary malady. I don’t know where he keeps it. I need you to find it.”

  “I know—you said before. But what am I looking for? Is it a scribbled set of instructions? A formal document?” Eliza no longer cared if she sounded polite. She would not let herself fail this mission simply because the Queen gave her inadequate instructions. What if there was nothing to find? If the secret was simply in the Commissioner’s head, there wasn’t much she could do to extract it by force.

  For a moment, Eliza thought the Queen would refuse to answer again, but then: “An alchemical formula. Even a sample of the solution will be sufficient. Do this for me, Eliza, and I will reward you beyond measure.”

  Eliza’s chest swelled. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “I need it in twelve hours.”

  “Twelve hours?” Eliza blanched. Short of torture, she could think of no other way to get the Commissioner to confide in her so quickly.

  “Yes,” the Queen said. “Bring me that secret by morning—or don’t come back at all.”

  Anna ran. She didn’t have the time to walk, and she didn’t have the sense to sneak. The Commissioner’s halls were as good as any other path back to Mechan, and she would bowl over anyone who stood in her way. He could send his strongest guards after her, and it wouldn’t matter. She would run faster, farther, fiercer than them all.

  Of all the things Anna had seen over the years, Mechan marked on the Commissioner’s map had to be one of the worst. When she’d spotted it, she’d first thought it was a mistake, just an innocuous smudge. But in the short time Anna had known the Commissioner, she’d learned he did nothing by mistake.

  Including the star on the map now crumpled in her hand.

  The Commissioner knew about Mechan. How long before he sent officers their way to storm the streets, to tear families from the homes they’d thought were safe, to destroy the haven Thatcher built? And for what?

  To find the Technician.

  No matter how Anna looked at it, this was he
r fault. After all those years funneling tech into the Settlement, Thatcher’s prediction had finally come true—and it was her locket that had led the Commissioner to Mechan. She’d never thought to use a different steel alloy for her lockets, never considered the combination of metals they used in Mechan might be different from the Settlement’s. Anna had brought this on them all. If Ruby, or Thatcher, or a single other innocent was killed in the Commissioner’s raid, she’d have to carry that burden alone.

  But Anna didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  Racing through the halls, Anna flew past brightly colored blurs—guests or paintings, Anna couldn’t tell. Nothing would stop her, nothing would slow her down.

  Anna collided with something solid, sending her barreling toward the hard floor.

  “Oof!” The impact knocked the air from her lungs.

  “Red?” Eliza’s voice, low and hollow, sounded from beside her on the floor.

  Scrambling to her feet, Anna righted herself. “I have to go,” she muttered, and made to take off again in the direction of the exit, but Eliza grabbed her by the arm.

  “What’s going on? What happened? Are you and Nathaniel all right?”

  Eliza had too many questions that Anna didn’t have the time, or breath, to answer. Instead, she managed, “Commissioner’s office, secret door, alchemy tools, found a map—”

  “Alchemy tools?” Eliza’s eyes sharpened. “Slow down.”

  Anna shook her head, gesturing to the map. “I can’t—I have to go. My town’s in trouble.”

  Eliza took the map from her, glancing down before her gaze locked on Anna. “Take a breath with me. Come, breathe.” She inhaled, and Anna followed suit.

  “I can’t stay here,” Anna said once the air had vacated her lungs. “I have to save my people.”

  “Of course. But first, tell me what you found.”

  Anna tried to pull her wrist from Eliza’s grasp, but either Eliza’s grip was too tight, or Anna’s intent too weak. “There’s a hidden door in the Commissioner’s office—behind the bookcase.”

  Eliza’s eyes widened. “How original.”

  “He has a whole laboratory inside—vials and samples of all sorts of alchemical solutions.” Anna pulled the vial from her dress pocket, letting the golden liquid inside reflect the dim hall light. “We found this—a vaccine for Tarnish.”

  Eliza released Anna’s wrist, fingers closing on the vial instead. “You did it,” she whispered.

  “Yes, but like I said—I have to leave. Nathaniel can fill you in.”

  Eliza didn’t say anything, staring intently at the vial in both their hands, holding tight.

  Nothing the noble did made any sense to Anna, but she didn’t have time to puzzle over her now. She needed to get to Mechan—she needed to warn them.

  “I need to go,” Anna repeated.

  Eliza seemed to return to the present. “Yes, of course. Good luck,” she said, but still did not let go of the vial.

  Anna raised her eyebrows. “Right. I’m just going to take this back with me.”

  Eliza’s lip twitched. “I’m so sorry, Anna. I can’t let you do that.”

  It had to be a misunderstanding. “Yes, you can.”

  “I wish I could.” Eliza smiled sadly. “But I need you to leave this here with me. You see, I need it more than you do.”

  Anna gaped. “You need it? I’m sorry, are your friends and family dying of a mysterious poison? Did you have to watch your best friend’s son die in front of you because of it?”

  Eliza bit her lip. “I’m not going to argue with you. You can stay here and fight with me over this vial, or you can go to your family and fight for them. Choose your battle, Anna, difficult though it may be.”

  But it wasn’t difficult. Not by any standard. The vial in her hand was a promise of a brighter tomorrow, a chance at a future for Mechan without heart disease, the life Ruby wanted for her unborn child. But a vial for the future meant nothing if Anna couldn’t salvage the present.

  Three days ago, Anna would have sooner lopped off Eliza’s hand than leave without the vaccine. That vial was Anna’s chance to earn back her grandfather’s trust, her chance to make up for Roman’s death. But now none of that seemed so important. Thatcher had been right all along—Mechan was the most important thing.

  It wasn’t just a place. It wasn’t just an idea. It was a family. It was her family.

  Anna let go, leaving Eliza behind, burying a rage she could embolden tomorrow, a loss she could mourn once she had the time to do anything but run.

  Darkness had already fallen by the time Anna reached the Settlement walls. She’d left her satchel behind in Eliza’s bedroom. She had no passport, but her fine clothes hardly matched her false identity of a farmer’s daughter anyway. With only the wrench, heavy in her pocket, for company, she slipped into the cover of the clock tower, her steps drowned out by the sound of falling water. She fumbled in the dark for the rope ladder she’d hidden among the vines as the clock above ticked a heavy rhythm into the night. She dropped down, tearing the ladder with her. She would take no chances this time—no one would follow her.

  Her shadow fell across the grassy pastures as she ran, reaching for something just out of her grasp. She slowed when she caught sight of the ridge shielding Mechan from view. As a cloud moved to block the moon, she watched her shadow grow and grow to touch the ridge’s edge. Then she picked up her feet and chased it.

  When she reached Thatcher’s house, she paused on the threshold, hand outstretched to turn the handle. This was it—the last moment between before and after. She would walk through that door, an unwelcome intruder in her own home. She would rouse Thatcher from slumber or summon him from surgery to deliver the news.

  Would it be like last time? Would she enter her grandfather’s house, carrying a warning instead of a body, to be greeted only with disgust and blame? Would Thatcher turn her away?

  No. It would be different. She was the messenger once again, but this time at least, she knew where to place the blame. She would not run from what she’d wrought. She would face it, and she would do her best to salvage what she’d lost.

  Anna turned the handle, but the door was locked.

  No one in Mechan locked their doors at night. The town’s golden rule wasn’t so much love thy neighbor as it was trust thy neighbor. Without trust, they were but many frazzled lawbreakers; with it, they were a community.

  No one answered the door when she knocked softly. Thatcher made no sounds inside the house, not even his usual snores. Perhaps he only snored when she was home to irritate her. It seemed the sort of thing he would do, but when Anna pounded her fist against the door, she was met only by a gust of wind.

  Anna stared out at the rest of the town. She could knock on any door, wake any neighbor to raise the alarm. She didn’t need to tell Thatcher.

  But she wanted to. Her chest tightened with the realization. She didn’t only want to bring her town to safety. She wanted to confront her faults, she wanted to own up to her mistakes, and she wanted Thatcher as her witness.

  As though pulled by an invisible force, Anna made her way down the path, across the town square, to a green door she’d walked through a hundred times. Never before had her heart thundered with such ferocity, her skin prickled with such hesitation, her breath dragged with such difficulty, as she lifted her hand to knock.

  Ruby answered the door, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair fell in tight curls around her tired face, but her eyes were alight, alert. “What’s th— Anna?”

  For a moment, Anna thought she might be sick. Ruby, who’d done nothing wrong, who’d deserved everything right, stood tall and strong despite everything, while Anna wilted before her. Anna didn’t deserve to look her in the eye and ask forgiveness, she didn’t deserve to be forgiven.

  But that wasn’t why she’d come. Anna could live without Ruby’s absolution, but she couldn’t live without Ruby. A thousand apologies bubbled at the precipice of Anna’s throat.
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  Instead, she said only, “The Commissioner knows we’re here. We have to run.”

  Ruby didn’t argue. She set her jaw, slipped on her shoes, and stepped onto the stoop, shutting the door behind her. She caught Anna’s gaze and held it. “Tell everyone to get out. Take only what they need. In fifteen minutes, we evacuate to the north.” And with that, they parted ways, Ruby taking the eastern half of town, Anna taking the west.

  Anna met little resistance as she made her way through the houses, doling out instructions like prescriptions. She might not have been a doctor anymore, not like Thatcher, but she could still save lives.

  As she ushered out the last family, following on behind, she scanned the crowd making their way out of town for a familiar wrinkled face, straining her ears for the creak of metal wheels.

  “Where’s Thatcher?” she breathed, catching up to Ruby.

  “Not here.” Ruby’s face tightened. “He left at dawn.”

  Anna’s stomach took a steep dive. “Where did he go?”

  Ruby’s lips narrowed, and her eyes found the skyline. “He went looking for you.”

  Nathaniel didn’t return to the ballroom. He knew he ought to go, cut his losses, and salvage what he could of the night, but something kept him rooted to the spot. This room held more than the key to his heart condition. Nathaniel needed to know the truth about his mother. His mother’s death had left behind a hole, and Nathaniel had filled it in with hope—hope that if one parent loved him, it wouldn’t matter that the other was dead. Instead, his father’s criticism had chipped away at that hope, leaving Nathaniel empty.

  Nathaniel let the hinges fall between his fingers, hitting the desk with a harsh clack. He didn’t have a mind for metal the way Anna did, and piecing the door back together would only delay a confrontation years in the making.

  Nathaniel turned his attention back to the holocom, abandoned where the map had been. Anna had been willing to drop everything she’d worked for, the justice she’d so desperately wanted—so surely deserved—to protect what she loved. Nathaniel’s chest constricted. He’d been too young to protect his mother from his father, but he’d been given chance after chance to do the right thing, to protect everyone else.