Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Sarah

W e arrived back at the ship and left within minutes of the message from Jac. In the cockpit with Deacon’s crew, I fidgeted. I couldn’t explain why, but I was nervous to meet Silence Bateen.

Also, a part of me didn’t want to leave Orhon. It was lush and vibrant around Deacon’s family’s estate. So calm and serene. Tall trees dotted the cityscape, with buildings around and in the trees. His family home was on the outskirts of Ladrille and epic in every way. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I didn’t want to leave.

Holy crap, I’m hooked on my hallucination .

And why wouldn’t I be? So far, it had been a thrilling adventure that made me feel so vibrantly alive, and I wasn’t ready to let that sensation go and return to what had been a banal and uninspired existence for me the past year with Ryan.

I closed my eyes and shook my head at myself. Not wanting to leave was not a good sign. I should be fighting this …but I didn’t want to. Even though I knew none of what I was seeing was real, I almost didn’t care. I felt more at home on the ship and on Deacon’s estate than I had ever felt anywhere else.

How sad is that?

En route to the dark side of Halla, Deacon turned to glance at me. “You can be a human once again.”

I fiddled absently with my mogging belt. “I don’t need to be Ladrian on Halla?”

“You can, if you would prefer it, though I don’t recommend it,” he said. “Additionally, the ghosts know when someone is mogged, so you will not be hiding anything. At least, not from them.”

I scrunched up my nose. That confusing ghost thing again…and me being some kind of conduit. I supposed he’d explain my part in all that at some point.

“Do you prefer me this way?” I asked Deacon, curious to know his thoughts.

He merely smirked, and shrugged those big, broad, sexy shoulders of his.

“Oh my god, you do prefer me this way!”

He laughed, a low, deep, delicious sound that curled through me. “I enjoy you both ways, consort.”

Truth shone in his eyes, and I was…relieved that he found me appealing in both forms. “Well, I would like to be back in my old skin—wait, will this uniform go back to its original size?”

I didn’t want to flash anyone who hadn’t already seen me naked. Poor Drift couldn’t even look me in the eye when we had entered his cockpit.

“It stretches both ways, yes. Still too big for you, but yes.”

I pressed the purple button on my belt and within the blink of any eye, I was me again. I caught my reflection in the glass on the dashboard for confirmation. Then, I turned and tried to look at my ass.

Deacon laughed again. “Your tail is gone—do not worry. There are no mixes like that.”

“A girl can’t be too careful.” Though I kind of liked the cute, furry tail. Then, I wondered aloud, “Why aren’t I tired? Or sore anymore?”

“When you transmogrify, your cells must be put back together in their original configuration,” Deacon explained. “This process, because it breaks a variety of bonds in your body, releases energy. It also reforms other bonds, but almost always breaks more than it reforms, so there is an energy surplus. Going back and forth between forms can leave you feeling revitalized and can heal minor wounds.” He yawned before continuing, and it sounded like his sex growl, and I was instantly aroused. “So, you may find you have far more energy when you mog.”

“Why don’t you do it all the time, then?”

“Because it can eventually cost you who you are,” he replied, his eyes serious. “Staying in a different form, this can change your perspective and leave you feeling less like yourself. It is a wonderful tool, but it is not without cost, like anything else.”

“So when you mog—”

“You are full of questions after sex,” he said, interrupting me. “Is this normal for you?”

I laughed. “Are you tired of answering them?”

He slid his hand around to the back of my neck and brought our mouths together, kissing me and making his crew cringe or frown in confusion. But when they realized that was all that was happening, they went back to what they were doing before the kiss.

“Never,” he said when he lifted his lips from mine. “Though this is to be a trying time for me, and I may not answer everything as well as I would like to for you. Please forgive me.”

“You are worried about letting me down?” I asked softly.

He nodded, but his eyes were on the glass as we approached Jac’s ship, Sovereign . “I do not wish to disappoint anyone who is important to me.”

His loyalty impressed me, and learning that I was important to him made my heart swell in my chest. I squeezed his hand as the hulls tapped together, then mated. “You never could.”

“I hope that is true.”

We left to greet the escaped prisoner, Silence Bateen, along with Jac at the hullmate. Seeing Jac again lifted my spirits—despite Deacon’s attention, I’d missed him—but the Ladrian woman’s beauty stopped my heart.

If she is my competition and Deacon’s ex, I am fucked.

Her skin was luminous and dark, but her eyes were the color of amber or honey. She had one of those sweet round faces that always seemed to be smiling in some way. When she spoke, her voice was like a calming tune you couldn’t get out of your head. A welcome earworm. I would have felt more threatened by her, if she were not enormously pregnant by Deacon’s deceased father, Valor Ladrang.

Despite the ordeal she’d undoubtedly been through in prison, she smiled amicably and said, “Greetings, Deacon.”

“Greetings, Silence.” Then he gently grabbed my hand and pulled me forward to introduce me. “This is my consort, Sarah Hollinger.”

I almost preened at the title, consort. It sounded so regal.

“Greetings, Sarah Hollinger,” she said, nodding her head at me. “It is an honor to meet you.”

Unsure of their formalities, I followed suit, still not sure how I felt about the woman who had broken Deacon’s heart. “Greetings, Silence Bateen. It is an honor to meet you, as well.”

She smirked knowingly as her sharp eyes took me in, not missing the possessive way Deacon held my hand. “Let us not jest. I am not the honorable one here. That is you.”

I had no clue what to say to that or even what she meant. “I am not—”

Interrupting me, she stepped forward and said, “No, you are . Jacaranda has informed me of Deacon’s plan and your part in it, and I must say, you are the most honorable human I have ever heard of in my life. To do this for Deacon’s family…” she began to cry and placed a protective hand on her protruding belly. “I cannot explain how grateful to you I am.”

I looked to Jac for an explanation—that fucking ghost conduit thing again that would save Deacon’s family. But he didn’t meet my gaze.

“And you ,” Justice said, taking Deacon’s hands in hers, and I had to resist the petulant urge to swat them away, “thank you for not bearing me any ill will, regarding our situation. When Jacaranda told me he was not taking me to my execution—”

“I’m sorry, what ?” I asked, horrified at the notion.

“The penalty for nonconsensual infidelity…” Jac hinted under his breath, keeping me in the loop.

My eyes widened. “Oh. Right.”

Silence continued, “I could not believe him. I did not want to believe him. I thought this was a foolish plan, at first. But I know you, Deacon. You are wiser than most, and you would not do this if you were not certain of your actions and the outcome. I trust in you.”

“You made your choice, Silence,” he said in an even tone. “Despite everything, I am grateful you are faithful to my father. That is all I ask of you. To carry on his legacy with the child inside of you.”

She nodded and gave him a tremulous, grateful smile. “Loyalty, above all.”

He bowed politely, abruptly ending the personal conversation. “We must away to Halla. Jac, can you take Silence to the guest quarters? Sarah, if you would like, you may make yourself at home in mine. I must speak with Drift.”

Then, he left us in the hullmate.

I assumed his shortness with us was because he had some residual anger toward Silence—not that I blamed him at all. I wanted to hate her, too. But she seemed so contrite that it was hard to stay mad at her. She had screwed up and clearly felt terrible for her crime. We all screw up sometimes , I figured.

It wasn’t like with Ryan and his hookups. That was obviously just about sex or whatever. A one night stand was not about love, and even Deacon characterized his father’s affair with Silence as a love affair. Perhaps Deacon was right—there were different morality rules for different infractions.

As Silence and Jac passed me in the hullmate, neither of them spoke, either to me or each other. It was odd. She didn’t know me, so I expected it of her. But Jac had been different from all the other Ladrians when it came to me, so understanding and kind, I had expected some acknowledgement of my presence, at least.

But all I got was crickets from him. Which annoyed me more than it should have.

I huffed and went to Deacon’s quarters, passing the beautiful lights and glowing wall buttons along the way. I figured I would learn what they were eventually. Until I remembered none of it was real and why did it matter?

I swallowed back a frustrated growl and lectured myself, “None of this is real. Not Silence’s pregnant belly that comes down to her knees, not Deacon’s sweetness with me, not Jac’s… awkwardness ? Not sure what his deal is, and it doesn’t matter, because it’s all figments of my imagination.”

Inside Deacon’s quarters, I watched the space-scape blur by the window. It was pretty, in a light show kind of way. Like the one time I tried ecstasy at a rave with my sister Jenny. Some random guy danced around with glow sticks in his hands and the lights trailed in fuzzy patterns.

When the ship slowed down and things came into focus, I was blown away. Like when we breached the atmosphere of Orhon, the ship rumbled, then stilled. But unlike Orhon, it was early morning on Halla. Even more unlike Orhon, Halla was not as metropolitan. I imagined it was like Orhon in its infancy.

A glittering ocean laid out before us until it became land. Tall trees in every direction, with mountains and rolling hills. Green as far as my eyes could see on the land, but an early morning lavender and pink sky as the two suns rose. Between the trees was more greenery—bushes, I assumed.

Not too many structures, either. A periodic building here and there. They almost blended with their surroundings, except for the gleaming silver of the roofs. The buildings had nothing in common with the ones I saw on Orhon. These had a primitive vibe going on, and I tried to imagine who lived in them.

I might find out soon .

I couldn’t think about that. Living moment to moment in this hallucination took a lot of mental work I was not used to. Never having been a schedule person, I had not realized how spoiled I was by my carefree life. But it was carefree by my very careful design—by choosing Ryan Lakeworth as my partner.

Ryan’s money made my life that way, and if I was honest with myself, it was a large part of my attraction to him. The security of his money. I realized it more in every passing moment. With his money, I no longer had to worry about whether I would have a roof over my head or food in my stomach. My adult life was starkly different from my childhood, and I had meant to keep it that way. I tried hard to make things work with him, in part, because the memory of my life before him was terrifying.

Maybe that’s why I’ve snapped. I figured out he’s been cheating, and I created a world without him in my head, because I don’t know what else to do . But I couldn’t focus on that. Whatever the duration of the hallucination, it was where I was, and I had to make the best of my situation.

All the greenery made me think it had to be more humid than Orhon—I had noticed the dryness of the air as soon as Allegiant had opened on the other larger planet. I was accustomed to the humidity of South Carolina, so it gave me the hope of a comfort of home on Halla.

Outside the spot where we landed, there was one of those buildings. But this one had blue flowers planted out front in a yard that looked tended to. Are we at someone’s home?

Wherever we were, it was lovely and pastoral. Like a hobbit’s house. Wooden walls, a round structure. Circular windows that looked free of glass. There were blue flowered vines that grew around the openings—at the doors and windows—and they were the same shade as the planted flowers. But the silver roof caught my eyes. It seemed like it belonged as part of Deacon’s ship, not as a roof for a hobbit house.

I didn’t know what to expect when we left the ship, but I wanted to look my best. I finger-combed my hair, unsure of where any grooming supplies were, and tried to look less messy, but failed. I shrugged in the mirror, and the door opened.

Deacon smiled at me, anticipation glowing in his eyes. “Are you ready for this?”

“Not at all,” I admitted, mostly because I had no idea what to expect once I stepped out on this planet. Or what my purpose was to Deacon’s plan.

He immediately frowned, worry flashing across his features. “You’re not backing out, are you—”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

He exhaled a deep, relieved breath, and we left the dual ships with Jac, Silence, and a motley mix of the two crews. Instead of forging ahead, we stood at the open bay door of Deacon’s ship.

Finally, I asked, “Um, so where are we going?”

“Nowhere yet. Wait,” Deacon replied, then went quiet as his eyes scanned the forest ahead.

So, I stared out that way, too. And then I saw one and I gasped, my heart jumping in my chest, even though I’d seen these apparitions before.

A literal ghost peeked from behind one of the tall trees. She was faint, at first, but soon became solid as she approached us. As solid as a ghost ever got, anyway. There was always a slight transparency to them when I saw them on Earth, and that held true, seeing them here, too. She was near the same height as Silence, but with tan skin and blue hair. Her sheen was hard to see or gone—I wasn’t sure which.

I gripped Deacon’s hand, adrenaline rushing through me. “Do…do you need me to speak to her?” Was that now my job as this conduit he’d insisted I was?

But he gently squeezed mine back and shook his head. “No. Not yet.” Then he addressed the apparition. “Greetings, Predict. Is my father nearby?”

My mouth dropped in shock. “You can really see her? And talk to her?”

Deacon gave me a quick, puzzled look. “Of course I can. It is as I said before. I do not understand why you doubt everything I have told you.” He sounded affronted.

“Humans like to say, trust, but verify,” Predict said, while she looked me over and I did not like her expression. It was filled with disdain, for me. “Do not take it personally, Deacon. They have weak faith. Your father is inside.”

But the door to the hobbit house swung open wide and a male ghost sprang forward. I knew in an instant he was Valor Ladrang. He looked just like Deacon, but older. Same tan skin, lustrous gray hair, brown eyes, and still so very handsome, despite the difference in their age. But more than that, it was the look of love the older Ladrian had for Deacon when he saw him there.

Deacon’s eyes welled at the sight of his father. As the pair came close, I realized a terrible, heartbreaking thing. Their arms went out to each other, but they could not hug or connect in any way physically, and their arms slowly drooped to their sides.

An initial, joyful instinct gone awry. It made me cry, too, while the hole in my heart begged to be filled. I felt the frustration for wanting to hold your parent and not being able to—I had felt that way every single day since my mother had died, and I had never been able to hold my own father since I hadn’t known him at all.

Clearly, the ache of familial love and the grief that came with death still haunted Ladrians, even with their living ghosts.

Is it worse to be able to see them and not be able to hold them? I wasn’t sure. I had never been able to see my mother’s ghost. But my heart broke so devastatingly for Deacon that I knew I was never leaving this hallucination.