Chapter Forty-Three
Nova
“One of the grunts said she met a core yesterday. Everyone sounded so jealous. All I could think was that she was lucky to be alive. Who stumbles across a murderous beast and then fawns over it?”
Priya was right, she was great at putting on cosmetics.
She’d taken her time with each of us, painting our faces—reshaping them with shadows and highlights.
She used kohl on my eyes to make them look less wide and a deeper shade of brown paired with a vibrant pale shade to thin out my nose, jaw, and cheeks.
After my turn with Priya had finished, Zura sat me down and combed through my curls, taking her time to part it into sections and braid it. Jonah showed up not long after we began, dropping off clothing, blank canvases nailed to wooden stakes, and a map with the location of the arrival area.
The others cycled through the same system as I did, getting their face and hair done before ending with picking clothes from the pile Jonah had brought.
They were plain, tattered, and unassuming.
Mostly in shades of brown and black, though Az snagged the only green top and brought it to me with a smile.
“It’s too big, but I figure a belt or two will fix that,” he said with a wink. I’d done just that. Throwing on a pair of black trousers with the oversized, long-sleeved green top and wrapping my tactile straps all around my torso. While it would never be considered fashionable, it would do.
By the time we were done, we all looked relatively unrecognizable. Az and I stood together as the others helped Caleb with signs, my skin tingling with nerves.
“Is this reckless?” I asked him, my fingers fidgeting at my sides.
Az looked down at me, pursing his lips. “I think it’s far less dangerous than delivering the haya. We can run at any time. Others will be there. Eyes won’t only be on us.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, gnawing on my bottom lip. He grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly.
“It’s insanely reckless. We’re going out in the open, preparing to fight off who knows how many officials, grunts, and maybe even elites. Every second we’re there is one we’re putting ourselves at unnecessary risk. But…” he trailed off, nudging my arm.
“But we’re freeing the eadi there. At least somewhat,” I finished.
“The only problem will be maintaining their control over the village. It won’t be long before more officials come. But it gives them time. A reprieve to group and ready themselves.”
“What if killing the officials makes their punishment worse?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest.
“They’ll be hanged, raped, starved, and abused regardless. Maybe they only need someone to believe in them enough to do this.”
“Or maybe we’re sentencing them to a worse death.”
“We won’t know. All we can do is decide if it’s worth the risk.” His voice was soft, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand, the ring he wore on that finger cold against my skin.
Was it worth the risk? Were we doing more harm than good?
“What if we don’t stop here? What if we use this as an example for Commander Maitoza of what we can do if we take an offensive approach?
” I asked, turning to face him. He looked down at me with a scrunched face, as if the mere idea of wanting something from the commander disgusted him.
“We don’t have to like what she believes, but we can use her to fight. To make a difference.”
After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. This could be a success story if we spin it into one. I’m sure she’ll be livid when she realizes what we’re doing, but maybe it’s the push she needs.”
I grabbed his other hand, daring to smile. “Or maybe it will be what the rebels need to see. The civilians too. A single pebble makes a ripple in the ocean, right? Sometimes one person’s bravery is enough to stifle the fear in others.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my negative Nova?” he teased, using my knuckles to tap my nose. I pinched my lips, looking up at him beneath my lashes.
“Ha ha.”
“Seriously, I like it. I’m just surprised by your optimism. Aren’t we normally a glass half empty pair?”
“Maybe that’s our problem.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, leaning down and kissing me. I grinned into the kiss, laughing when he bit my bottom lip.
“Okay, love birds, let’s focus please!” Cal yelled from across the room. I turned, flashing him my middle finger and winking.
Az brought his lips to my ear, whispering, “Let’s go change the world then.”
Shoving him away playfully, I walked towards the group, picking up a sign that said fight for true justice or die for false peace. “Caleb, did you make this one?”
“I made all of them,” Caleb said, pressing his hands into his hips as he stared down at the sign.
“When I was little, my dad read me a story about an eadi princess. There’s a line in it that says something like, people think justice is subjective because we all selfishly want our own outcomes, but the reality is that justice is objectively the fair and ethical treatment of all.”
“That’s hard for a lot of people to accept,” Zura said.
“My grandmother hated my father. She said he was a waste of time and energy. That he was a disgrace to our family. But she loved us. She’d call that justice.
Loving us despite what we were. What we are.
People want to think they’re the hero of their story. ”
“Yeah, our parents are all like that. They justify everything they do by saying it’s for the greater good—for the stars’ entertainment—but what they’re really doing is hoarding power and wealth,” Cal said, still staring at the sign.
“They hoard magic too,” I muttered.
He finally looked up, his bright blue eyes locking on mine. “Not without the cathedral.”
“Until they build a new one.”
“Maybe by then the stars will have decided we’re not worth it anymore,” Zura said.
Quinn lifted his head, his face stiff and emotionless. “Or maybe someone new and more entertaining will be in power.”
“This is depressing. Let’s just go to the protest, kill the ugly, pathetic fucking officials, and come back.” Priya’s voice was commanding and sharp, immediately snapping us all out of our funk.
Each of us moved quickly from there, grabbing signs and lacing our boots. We all wore old, faded brown cloaks, our hair and much of our faces concealed beneath the stretched hoods.
“Optimism,” Az mumbled beside me, poking my ear.
I laughed, nodding. “Yes, sir.”
“Save that for later.”
“Gross,” Priya grumbled, pushing between us to make her way to the front door.
Sighing, Az grabbed my hand, tugging me outside. We all huddled together, the wind whipping our cloaks around us as we readied.
“Remember everyone,” Az said, his voice muffled in the fierce chill, “don’t die.”
With that, his shadows twirled around us, encompassing our bodies in darkness before transporting us to the alleyway Desi had marked on the map.
It was dark and damp, the cold far less bone-deep.
Both sides of the path stretched on farther than most, the buildings so tall I had to tilt my head all the way back to see the tops.
“From here, let’s stick to pairs. When the officials come, we take them out as inconspicuously as possible. If you see an elite, just run. Shadow walk back to my cottage when it’s safe. That will be where we all meet up. Got it?”
Each of us nodded to Az, Priya grabbing Caleb’s hand immediately. Zura looked wide-eyed at Quinn, who smiled at her warmly and placed an arm over her shoulders.
“I’ve got you, Zucchini, don’t worry,” Quinn said, shaking Zura slightly.
“Zucchini?” was all she managed to say. I bit back laughter as she stared up at him with a pinched face.
“Your name starts with Z and your eyes are green. It actually makes perfect sense.”
“Focus,” Az ordered, squeezing my hand tighter. “We stay no more than one hour.”
This time, he didn’t wait for the others to agree. He only began walking down the alleyway, pulling me along. Nervous, I yanked my hood down further, praying to those damn stars that we wouldn’t be noticed.
As soon as we exited the alley, it was immediately apparent that a protest loomed. Much like the ones that occurred in my district, the entirety of the space had gone eerily quiet. Amongst the winding path of buildings stood eadi, their heads down and hoods on.
Those who did move were nearly silent, their fleeing forms all the more noticeable amongst the stillness.
My mind strayed, recalling my last birthday.
Celeste had lumped me in with all shaytan, suggesting I was a part of the problem.
As I readied for a fight, I couldn’t help but acknowledge how right she had been.
Azazel stopped us at a darker corner, keeping his head down as we tucked the signs against the wooden wall. I watched from beneath my hood as more people got into place, the entirety of the zigzagging square filled with protesters.
Then I saw her.
Commander Maitoza walked slowly to the uneven center, where a towering, wooden set of gallows big enough to fit half a dozen people loomed.
She looked regal, even in clothes so clearly meant to be discreet, her chin low but presence bright.
Boots clicking against the cobblestone, she seemed to arrive upon a beat set to a war ballad.
It was chilling watching her look up, her dark eyes finding mine even in the crowd.
Though she held no sign, every set of eyes were on her as she ascended the wooden steps, the platform weeping beneath the weight of her palpable rage.
“What will be yours when you’ve taken our lives?” she began when she reached the top, her voice echoing off the scattered buildings.
“If we die, so do you,” the protesters added, creating a breathy, deep harmony behind the commander’s melody of fury.
“What will you have when you’ve slaughtered our children? What will you be when you’ve killed all your servants? What will you hear when you’ve stolen our voices? What will remain when you’ve destroyed your own world?”