CHAPTER TWENTY
Castor
I couldn’t find Nova anywhere.
She’d accepted her award with grace, though I was surprised when her mural appeared on the holoscreen.
Grandfather told me she’d agreed to the gala, but watching Nova’s reaction, this clearly violated her agency.
It was supposed to be a surprise for her community.
I’d glared at him, but he ignored me, only giving me a quick nudge to fix my face when the camera panned.
I played my part, my Fox smile in place.
I regretted it the moment my gaze locked with Nova’s.
Anger flashed before she replaced it with numbness.
My smile fell. Jacinta passed her the microphone, and Nova curved her lips in a way that didn’t reach her eyes.
My stomach twisted in knots. I felt her hurt in that smile.
‘I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure I deserve this award – at least not yet,’ she began.
Her eyes unfocused, as though she were staring straight through us.
‘Outside of this hotel is Sunrise Avenue, but where I live, the street signs switch over to another name: Lucille B. Anarcha Boulevard. You know her as the Pain Carrier for one of the wealthiest families of Alta Bay – the only other publicly known pairing. Her Pain Giver has schools and libraries named after him, scholarships and grants – a whole neighborhood too. I’ll be honest, I don’t know what Thom Westlake did, but his community loved him. ’
That received a few chuckles. I leaned forward.
‘I do know about Lucille Betsey Anarcha. I know that with her Pain Carrier payments, she still worked two other jobs to support her family of five. She was a grant writer who helped open South Alta’s food pantry, found doctors willing to dedicate hours to our opioid treatment centers, and taught families how to grow produce in their back yards.
That last one is my little sister’s favorite fact, because those same families are now stall owners in our neighborhood’s Thursday night fresh market. ’
The room hung on Nova’s every word – me included. None of this was in any of the stories I’d read about the woman. It wasn’t part of the exhibit in Dominion’s lobby.
‘And she did all that while carrying the pain of a man the city loved.’ Nova met my eyes.
‘She truly deserved an award like this. I can only hope to fill half her shoes while carrying the pain of this city’s future surf champion.
Who knows, Cas – maybe you’ll have your name on schools and libraries one day.
’ She winked then quickly turned around as the crowd met her speech with a standing ovation.
I doubted they truly heard her. I wasn’t sure I fully understood myself. It felt like she’d let all of us into her world for a few moments and left us to decipher it.
Grandfather clapped me on the back. ‘It looks like everyone – including Ms Williams – thinks you’re going to be a name to remember.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘My grandson.’
I smiled through his praise as others came up to shake my hand. You picked her well. Congratulations, boy. Another Lucille – we’ll have to find another street to rename. It felt disgusting, but I was a Fox, so I kept my smile fixed in place.
I slipped away from my table after that last one. That had been ten minutes ago.
When Nova hadn’t shown this morning, I assumed she needed more time. Maybe I’d overstepped with my gifts, tried to reconcile too soon. She’d asked for time to process being my Pain Carrier. After her speech … it was more than that. There was more I needed to understand.
I passed Gemma, and she grabbed an extra champagne glass from a waiter and thrust it into my hand. ‘Hey – everyone’s looking for you.’
I set the glass on the nearest table. ‘You know I don’t drink, Gemma.’
She waved me off. ‘You need to loosen up. Your girlfriend was perfect.’
‘The perfect what? Marketing tool?’ I countered. ‘We’re using her. The award was to recognize her as my Pain Carrier, but I’m the one getting applauded. Did you hear Jacinta? The spotlight was on me before Nova could even speak.’
‘Aww.’ Gemma patted my cheek. ‘You really like her, don’t you?’
I pushed her hand away. ‘Stop. This isn’t right. She’s carrying my pain, and somehow everyone’s more interested in me winning a surf competition.’
‘Hmmm.’ She finished her drink. ‘The pressure’s getting to you.
The Surf Cup. The press talking to your Pain Carrier girlfriend.
’ She tapped my nose. ‘You need a spa retreat. I can sign you up. I did one last year in the Heraldess Mountains – gorgeous scenery, heated pools, underwater music for meditation. I stayed a month, and it really helped me before my medical board exams. And there’s tons we can do for you if you take advantage of the Pain Giver Comfort program.
It includes aftercare. I could really use your testimonial.
Which reminds me, I need one for my new B12x supplement. It’s going international.’
‘Gemma, you’re not hearing me.’
‘No – you aren’t hearing me. Nova Williams is your Pain Carrier.
The family isn’t using her. She signed up for the Freedom System voluntarily.
She’s happy with her paychecks and has already blown through the first one, from what I hear.
Della was thorough in her background check.
As for this becoming about you instead of her – it’s called the Freedom System.
The Pain Giver is the one free of pain. It was always going to be about you. ’
I clenched my jaw, trying to breathe through the frustration. ‘How is it voluntary when the people of South Alta and other communities need that money? What other options do they have?’ I pictured the stack of final notices in the Williamses’ family room.
Gemma stepped closer, her mouth level with my ear. ‘Would you rather carry your own pain and give up surfing? After all the heartache you’ve put Mom and Grandfather through so you could carve your own path? Do you want to finally embrace being a Fox?’
I had no response. With a final huff, she snatched up the champagne I’d abandoned and went to find Bri. I headed in the opposite direction, searching for Nova so I could apologize. Again.
I spotted her tucked into a small nook beneath the staircase with another girl I assumed was Estelle. I was glad they were talking again. Nova needed her.
Estelle spotted me first and whispered to Nova. I stopped as Nova stiffened. I swallowed. How many times would I apologize to her for something a Fox had done? It had reached the point where Nova was guarded before I’d even spoken a word.
I straightened my tie. ‘Your speech was eye-opening, Nova.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, not quite looking up. ‘Cas, this is –’
‘Estelle, right? Nova’s other half, who I owe friendship hours to.’ I held out my hand and Estelle shook it without saying a word, looking wildly unimpressed.
‘Are you here to apologize?’ she asked, crossing her arms. ‘Again?’
And I see they’ve caught up.
‘I –’ I glanced at Nova. She hugged herself, barely acknowledging my presence. Her eyes were red. ‘I don’t think Nova wants another apology,’ I admitted.
Nova’s gaze flashed to mine.
Behind her, a server staggered, failing to keep hold of a tray of eggplant and ricotta bruschetta. It happened fast, but I pulled Nova out of the way as he toppled toward us.
‘Stars!’ Nova cried, right as Estelle yelped, ‘Shit!’
I bent down to help the man. He was shaking, barely conscious.
‘What do I do, what do I do?’ I muttered. His forehead burned beneath my hand. I pointed toward the ice buckets chilling champagne. ‘Bring me the ice. I need to cool him down.’
Nova was already moving before I’d finished speaking, while Estelle shouted for nearby waitstaff to help.
‘I really am fine,’ said the man, trying to sit up.
I grabbed the towel from his hip, filled it with ice and pressed it to his head.
‘I’d like to believe you, but I don’t think you are.
’ A Pain Carrier scar marked his left wrist, and his skin was hot – just like mine used to be when I had helical disease, the heat intensifying with every hellflare. ‘You fainted. You’re – you’re in pain.’
‘I’m dehydrated.’ He took the towel from my grip. ‘I forgot to drink some water before my shift. That’s it.’
Other servers arrived, helping their coworker to his feet. Blue light flickered dully at his temple where I’d pressed the towel, his tinted SPF wiped away. I was right – he was having a hellflare.
‘You need to fix your tint, now,’ one of the servers whispered to him. ‘You know the people here don’t want to see that. Take a break. Get to the storeroom.’
‘I know,’ the Pain Carrier muttered. He smiled at me through gritted teeth. ‘All is well,’ he said politely, disappearing with the others.
That smile – like he was holding something back – it was the same smile Nova gave me when I asked her if she could feel my pain.
I thought back to the town hall. Her speech just now.
I frowned, the puzzle pieces struggling to snap into place.
I turned to Nova, but she and Estelle were gone, the hotel’s back door swinging shut.
People started to approach me, congratulations and well wishes on their lips.
I didn’t understand it, or maybe I’d refused to see it before.
The gala was meant to celebrate the Pain Carriers, yet no one else seemed to realize I wasn’t the honoree.
My attention snagged on a server slipping through a discreet door.
I wanted to talk to the waiter again. Ask him more questions.
He’d lied about his hellflare. Why had he lied?
I followed a third server toward the back of the hotel, not sure what I was looking for – but I found it.
I opened a door labeled STAFF SUPPLIES. Tinted SPF moisturizer in every shade packed the shelves.
The same brand Perla had given me. My chest tightened as the dots began to connect.
We most likely had a room like this at home.
Did other Crestview families?