Chapter 29

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

B en never comes to escort me to my morning duties. Instead, my seemingly new guards follow me to the wing where my cart is stored. The elder who has taken a vow of silence deals with a man delivering a massive crate of white flowers, and when he almost bumps into a newly carved statue of First Mother, she silently scolds him.

I quickly gather some of his flowers and swiftly exit, noticing how my two new guards walk behind me as if they have no idea where I am meant to go in the Estate and what my duties are. Ben always led the way until we reached the assigned wing, and then once there would relax.

I turn down a hall to see if they will correct me, but they don't. In the chaos of the coup and the extensive aftermath, it seems that I have been assigned idiots. Ones who have no clue what their job truly is.

I continue to walk at a fast pace, hoping that my assured direction will keep any doubts at bay. They talk to each other without paying attention to me at all. I hear one speaking in a disgusted tone about the Viathan he saw posted in the emperor's wing this morning and smile to myself.

I walk so far with my cart, pushing the heavy load past several statues, until I am certain I can make my way toward the Temple of Divine Mothers, as if that is my assigned destination all along.

"High Priestess," one of the guards calls out.

I freeze, my cart coming to an abrupt stop.

When I turn, I see the guard bending down to pick up the long stem of a trumpet flower. He walks over to me and sticks it back in the water bucket with a tight smile.

"Apologies." He frowns, noticing my startled expression.

"Thank you." I slowly turn away from him and begin to push my cart but stop. "These flowers are for the Temple of Divine Mothers. They are expecting them. I . . . appreciate you making sure they are all present," I say, turning back around to face them.

Convincing.

He nods and looks a little confused, but there is no sign of objection, no indication that I cannot lead them all the way there and they would stop me.

We cross a large second-story balcony hall just above a large group of Viathans who gather with other Estate guards, speaking of orders from the lord general and what permissions they have. I push past them, hiding my face before I hear it resolve.

99 is meeting me in my chambers tonight to plan on how we proceed when the entire Estate is on high alert. First Son's followers are coming out of the woodwork, and another Viathan fleet is coming to complicate matters. This is my chance; I have to take it. If I can get into that temple now, then maybe when I see him again, I will not have to admit I am still empty-handed.

When we arrive at the final corridor before Leema's temple, my nerves are firing at random. It feels like the guards behind are chasing me and I am about to be caught. My eyes dart around wildly, like Crixa is waiting around every pillar to jump out and fire her light in a beam of peppery smoke to choke me.

But then I hear a pleasant sound in the neighboring courtyard, women laughing and speaking in easy tones to each other.

I peek around a pillar and see a group of women basking in the eclipsed light, some walking around and holding their bellies, appearing ethereal and not of the three worlds. I push my cart toward them until I see Leema. An elder priestess combs her loose hair while she smiles and chats to a high priestess adorned in a white veil and matching gown.

Leema's head lifts as if she senses the moment I enter the courtyard.

I glance at her, blinking too rapidly and attempt a smile. I tilt my head to the side, hoping she understands I want to see her, and then push my cart to the nearest statue of First Mother. This one is a pregnant rendition of the temple statue, with a small fountain beneath it where night lilies bloom on the surface of the water.

My guards gather with the ones from this temple and begin a hushed conversation, likely about Viathans and how they offend them.

I begin my work on the statue, using the time to gather my thoughts and catch my breath from hauling the cart across the Estate.

"Hello, Ferren," Leema says behind me, and when I spin around, she is straightening her white dress and resting her hand on top of her belly like it's a shelf.

"Blessed morning," I reply, so unnaturally her eyebrows draw together slightly.

She stares at me for a long time, her eyes tracing my gown, my veil, and then flicking to the cart next to me.

"Did High Priestess Thea tell you I wanted to speak?" I ask, even though it does not matter now.

"Yes, I have not been able to . . . get away for a moment, but I was already trying to find you once I heard you had returned."

"She mentioned that." I wring my hands. "Are you ok, after . . . the attack?" I sputter, unsure how to speak with her.

Why can't I tell her that I was sick with worry, that every horrible thought crossed my mind when I heard there was a fire in this direction and I could not think straight until 99 told me her temple was secure.

"Oh, I am fine." She rubs her belly. "Was your part of the Estate very affected?"

"Yes, most of it."

She hums. "They locked us up inside. It seemed like every Estate guard came to our door, but the awful sounds in the distance never made it close, thank First Mother."

I can't tell if she thinks it was unnecessary, if she is trying to downplay the experience, or if she was not truly afraid.

What do I say to her? I have rehearsed the first words that would come out of my mouth countless times.

But now, looking at her, the only thing I want to do is hold her, for her to hug me like she loves me, like she didn't abandon me to the Estate, disappointed in a failure that was not of my making.

"You look well," I say, so softly I think she doesn't hear.

"You too. I am happy to hear you have ascended." She removes her hand from the mound of her belly and gestures to my grey gown.

"Oh . . . Thank you." There is an obvious panic in my voice. "Would you like to sit?" I ask clumsily, as if I am the host in this courtyard and the stone bench is mine.

We sit in silence, and she shifts to get comfortable and clears her throat a few times. I watch my guards speaking to each other across the courtyard, completely oblivious to my sister and me.

"What did you want to speak with me about?" She spreads her dress out, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Days ago, when I saw you in temple, the service with the divinity ceremony."

She nods, trying to follow my fumbling words.

"The mother . . . Did you see . . . Is she still here, in the Temple of Divine Mothers?" I point to the thick door of the entrance on the far side of the courtyard.

"No, I believe she traveled back to her family."

"You saw her after the birth?"

"No . . . she was not a friend. I saw her go into labor though." She makes big eyes and pats her stomach like the act has been heavy on her mind. "This is what you wanted to speak with me about?"

"No!" Guilt washes over me; she looks so disappointed in the topic choice. But in truth, it's very easy to speak with her, naturally falling into the comfort of familiarity I have missed. "Could I visit you, in the temple?"

I hate that the reason for my request has two motivations.

"I don't think so," she begins, and it hurts more than I want to admit, but then she leans into my side. "I have asked, but the elders are wary with your atonement."

I smile, a little relieved. "It will be a long time before that is over."

"They say you were driven mad when you retrieved the stones. That you lost your mind on that other world. Have you lost your mind?" She giggles.

I smile at her lighthearted joke, but my eyes sting at the sound of her laugh, how easy this seems for her. I can't bring myself to let go as easily, to pretend there is not a deep wound that may never heal. My body will not allow me to forget how deeply sad I have been since she left and how afraid once I knew she returned.

"You're comfortable at the Temple of Divine Mothers?"

"Yes, of course," she answers with a side look. "I would not have pilgrimaged if I did not think it would be more comfortable than the place I was."

"And where did you pilgrimage from?" I can't disguise the hurt in my voice, the question I have contemplated to myself over and over, spoken as if I cannot contain it inside any longer.

She leans a hip to the side, adjusting and wincing a little until she is comfortable. "I should not have left the way I did, but I had to," she admits with a sigh.

There is much hurt between us, so many layers and years of resentment. I can't help but scoff at those words, ones that still haunt me. "You had to?"

"Yes!" she whispers, but her voice is so biting, it comes out just as loud but with more breath. "I couldn't stand it anymore. It was constant. Anytime you did anything wrong, I was used as a means to motivate you, make you feel awful for not ascending. I couldn't be a part of it anymore."

"Leema, you said awful things to me for not ascending, blamed me for our mother's death. Do not rewrite our history."

"Yes, maybe when we were children!"

"That is not true."

"It is, and First Mother forgive me, but the priestess order used our pain to control you, to make you more devout. Of course I wanted you to ascend, but I did not leave because you had not tipped the scales of divinity back and given our mother's death meaning. Those were your words, but before that, they were the temple's. I heard them say it."

My head spins as I try to make sense of what she is saying.

"And no matter how many times I tried to get through to you, it was like talking through a thick veil. You were obsessed. It was too much. So yes, I had to leave the Estate."

"If that is true, then why did you come back? If you loathe the priestess order so much, then why return?" I spit.

"I have been living with my father, in an outer city, but there is a midwife here, comforts I could never afford, proper food. That is the reason our mother did the same: because we had nowhere else to go."

I stare at her, her sky-blue eyes so glossy with emotion. I have robbed us of the relationship we could have had. It makes me sick to know that the voice in my head driving me toward ascension for so long was only a twisted version of Leema.

"I am sorry," I say, because what else is there for me to?

I believe her, of course I do. The priestess order has lied to me before, manipulated me for their gain, so why would they not do this? Leema was a living, breathing foundation of guilt they could draw from anytime they needed to control me or keep me in line.

"You do not have the strange fogginess in your eyes anymore. The last time I saw you—" Her words are cut off by a gasp as she clutches her belly.

The ground beneath our feet shakes. A tremor so violent, it bounces the Estate. No warning, no rolling lead-up, just an angry thrashing across all of Cosima like the worlds are gathering stones, shaking, and then casting them out across the surface.

Leema shrieks and clutches at her stomach, desperate to protect it.

"It's ok!" I try to assure her as the wall around the courtyard makes an awful groaning, threatening to crumble around us.

I try to comfort her again, but my voice is lost to the sound.

Leema does not know that the tremors seem more intense in the Estate as the conjunction nears. She has only felt them in the outer city. She has experienced all previous tremors while in the temple now, but on the tail end of an attack, it feels even more threatening.

The walls seem not equipped to handle such a force but have withstood every conjunction since the beginning. The windows make such a terrible clatter, like they will break but never do. The floor growls like it will crumble beneath us but it never does.

The others in the courtyard take cover as some little stones fall from the walls, and it seems all of them, even the elders, are afraid, the coup making lasting ripples on everyone here.

I drape my body over Leema. "It's a tremor. We are safe," I say into her ear, hoping she understands that another coup is not happening.

I hold her so close against me, shielding the side of her belly that is exposed, and even though I know we are fine, she does not.

She moves her hand to the back of my head, like she wants to protect me too but it's all she can offer. She keeps it locked there, knowing if something were to fall, her hand would take the blow first.

That tiny act crashes into me with such force, my throat constricts as I try to hold back a sob. It's as close to love as I have felt from Leema in a long time and restores something in me. Faith in us, in who we are to each other, and the bond that cannot be put into words and is only really exposed by actions.

Then the world stills and her hand slips away, the moment and care gone. I leave my hand on her belly as we straighten, no longer hunched over on the stone bench.

Her belly is firm, warm, and for some reason, I hope she doesn't notice my hand there, but she does.

An elder shouts out in the courtyard, calling the women back to their temple, the guards closing in on the group.

She removes my hand and gently sets it on my lap. "I will look for you in temple service. I am happy you have returned sister."

After seeing Leema, I am a ghost in the halls as I finish the remaining statues for the day. I cannot think of much else, replaying our conversation over and over, wishing I said things differently. Trying to remember every word she and I said aloud and the ones I didn't.

I had not intended to bring up our past, but when I realized I would not be able to get into that temple before I met with 99 tonight, I could not help the other emotions that came up and begged to be addressed. The reality of them is more complicated than I could have imagined.

I sit on the edge of my bed, waiting to hear another knock at my door. The anticipation of hearing 99's heavier hand against the wood, knowing he is on the other side, has my ears ringing and hearing phantom footsteps in the corridor.

The candle on my dresser is almost down to the brass base when I notice it dancing too wildly, like someone is attempting to snuff it out but not blowing hard enough. The gust of air caresses my face, and when I blink again, Calliape is standing before me.

I jump to my feet in shock and wrap my arms around her in an embrace to prove she is real.

"Calliape! How?"

She used her gift to fold the distance from the safe house, a fact that makes all the blood drain from my face. What wards could have been set off just now when she arrived?

"It's so good to see you. 99 wouldn't let August and me out of the safe house until after the coup was over. We were so worried."

"You should not have used your gifts. It's not safe."

"Feel." She holds my hand to her chest.

I close my eyes and press into her mind's eye so hard my head aches. There is some sort of barrier around her, one I would not notice if she did not invite me to see. It's like looking into a mirror, the ward so disorientating and almost dull I can feel myself forgetting what I am looking for.

It's unlike the wards I've felt her use before. In fact, it's like no other. I don't think it is divine in origin at all, and her clever smile confirms it.

She pushes a curly tendril behind her ear and beams at me, proud of how well it held up to my probing. "I found it in one of my books."

If I did not test its strength myself, I would have doubts, but Calliape is capable and she would not risk setting off a ward unless she was sure.

"I'm impressed." I laugh.

"I am glad your gifts are back. 99 said the bastard that took them died in the coup."

I nod, slowly wondering how much he updated August and Calliape, if he mentioned how Lord Hollis died. "Still too dangerous to use them, Crixa has already tested me. Does 99 know you are here? He said he was going to meet me."

"He sent me to bring you to the safe house instead of traveling through the Estate." She smiles again, happy he asked for her help.

"I'll just change then." I rush over to open the wardrobe, anxious to see 99 and August.

"Are you alright, Ferren? You look like you have been crying."

I turn away because I didn't realize she could tell. My eyes must still be red and puffy. I hang up my robe and pull the simplest gown I can find in the armoire over my head, leaving the veil behind and pinning back my hair. All the while, Calliape watches, waiting for me to answer.

"I was with Leema. It was the first time we have spoken."

"Since you arrived?"

"Since I arrived, yes."

"It went poorly?"

"No. Well, I am not sure. I . . . wish it were different."

"I'm sorry, Ferren. I can't imagine." She stops her thought, sitting on the bed to reset herself. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't all bad."

Calliape wraps her hand in mine. "Let me take you to the safe house. Everyone is waiting to see you. You will be nice and distracted by August's mother-hen hovering. He made me promise to hurry." She leans in and dramatically rolls her eyes.

I take a deep breath, preparing for the strange pull of Calliape's gift folding the distance for us. "I am ready."

"August likes to close his eyes. That might help." She ducks her head a little, embarrassed, as if sharing her gift with him is something to be shy about.

I nod, pressing my lips together to hide how cute I find it, and the moment my lids shut, I am swept away. Moving through walls and stone across the Estate feels like lifting off in August's ship, when we ascend so high the space between becomes black and speckled with stars. The pressure against my cheeks pulls and weighs me down, but this is not a climb upward; it's sideways across a distance in a matter of three breaths.

When we come to a stop, the momentum sways my body forward slightly, my hip pushing into a piece of furniture.

"Sorry," Calliape whispers.

A clattering sound draws both our attention across the room we have ended up in.

August leans against the wooden countertop of a modest kitchen with his palm flat against his heaving chest, startled. A metal cup bounces on the floor like it just fell from his hand in response to our sudden arrival.

He looks a little pale, but then his face turns up in a brilliant grin that squeezes at my insides.

"By the three worlds, Ferren, you've had us worried!" He crosses the little room and hugs me too hard.

"I missed you too, all of you." My voice strains to speak in the vise of his arms.

"Took you long enough," he teases Calliape.

She nods her chin toward the cup on the floor and smiles. "You dropped something."

When he frees me, I look around the house they have been staying in. There is a small hearth in the kitchen, a connecting dining room, and three doors toward the back that appear to be for separate bedrooms.

I peer into the pot sitting on top of the hearth normally used to cook, but it's empty.

"There is food on the ship if you are hungry. It's just outside, in the hangar."

The safe house is within a docking bay, a larger building where August hides his ship. I can hear the hums of other ships running and some machinery outside. We are far from the Estate, on the very outside of the city where ships are able to come and go and not disturb the Estate and the temple.

"You do not eat here?" I laugh.

"I couldn't figure that thing out." He points to the stovetop. "And it's easier to eat what we brought. I am used to it." He grins.

I glance at Calliape, who hates the Viathan food more than I do.

"The man who lets us stay here brings us supplies too," she tells me, sensing my next question.

"99 is with Thad now. You will love him, never speaks , just your type, Ferren."

August pauses, waiting to see if it's still ok to joke with me, if our relationship is the same after this time apart. His way of asking if I'm broken or if the damage done to me is too great.

"99 will not like the competition," I whisper, trying my best for some levity.

He lets out a single loud HA sound and his smile is so big, the lines around his eyes crinkle. "That's a scary thought." August stares off for a second, picturing it.

I want to tell them both what happened to me, what I had to go through, how much worse it was than I thought it would be, but more than anything, I want to be happy for just a moment. Before the pressure of time and the incoming fleet changes things and we have to adjust again.

"Ferren, I do want to speak with you about something before they return," Calliape says, tapping her finger nervously on the edge of the metal sink basin, one that does not look like any fixtures on Cosima that I have ever seen. It's as if the people here have taken pieces of ships and made small changes to a modest Cosima home.

Calliape glances over at August, giving away the fact he is aware of what she needs to say.

"You haven't told her?" he mutters, head tilting to the side in disbelief.

"No."

"What is it?" I hate when they speak like this. I am so used to 99's directness that any sidestep feels like it's a torturous wait to get to the point.

August groans and finally picks the metal cup off the floor, pouring himself a drink.

Calliape shifts on her feet. "You seemed so upset in your chamber. I didn't want to make it worse."

August's wrist lights up, and he presses a few buttons and sighs. "They are here."

"Oh!" Calliape blurts.

My stomach does a flip. 99 is on his way, but Calliape still hasn't said what she wanted me to know.

"She was upset?" August asks Calliape and not me.

"She had words with her sister," she whispers.

We can hear footsteps just outside what seems to be the front door.

August takes a hissing breath between his teeth.

I can feel Calliape move closer to me, like she wants to pull me aside, to say something in private quickly before they arrive, but my body pulls me forward.

99's helmet locks in on me the moment he steps in the safehouse. He pulls me in, pressing me against his body and then tilting my chin up to meet his mask. "It was agony seeing you in that hall and not being able to feel you."

I kiss the pad of his gloved thumb as he swipes it across my lips.

I hear two people behind him. One I assume is the owner of the safe house, the person who is an ally to Viathan and helping us. The other has a softer tread, one that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Then the reason for Calliape's worry stares me right in the eye.

"Hello, Priestess Ferren."

Selene's white hair is the first thing my eyes fixate on, her most defining trait. Her forced pleasant smile doesn't reach her eyes. She looks me up and down in a mix of inspection and curiosity. "Or is it High Priestess Ferren now?"