Chapter 24 #2
I crane my neck and stand on my tiptoes to look for anyone else I recognize.
Ivander and Zora are nowhere to be found.
I’m guessing they must be in the middle of their final show for the guests who don’t care about the retrial votes.
I glimpse Niko and Isla hovering by the marble staircases, whispering to each other. Neither of them are in the running.
I force myself to croak out words. “Whose names are on the jars?”
This is it.
Vance is the only one tall enough in our party to see everything that’s happening.
“Alana. Taurean. Those are all expected.” He cocks his head to the side.
“Looks like Ivander’s name has been scratched.
I guess he already told the bosses he wants to pull out.
If I were him, I wouldn’t gamble with something like this. ”
I smile, knowing Ivander’s not going to let anyone drag him to that retrial over his friends. My smile falters when Vance speaks again. “Wait, there’s another name there. Ambriel. Mender. Oh, I think she’s the one who works in the med-bay. I’ve heard she’s great with kids.”
Blood pounds in my ears. We weren’t counting on anyone else. No one who would be strong competition, anyway. It’s odd, hoping against hope that someone else’s dream will crash and burn to make mine come true—
“Your name, of course,” Vance adds.
My stomach flips, but for once, in a good way, like I’m back on the silks with Ivander. We did it. The first step of many, but we did it.
Asralyn snatches my hand, excited like me but not quite for the same reason.
We both hold our breath as Boss Stellan adds a few stones to each jar.
It’s getting close now. The murmuring in the crowd dulls to a charged silence.
Each boss gets an extra ten votes to give to a staff member, and I’m surprised to see that at least one of them must have voted for me.
Boss Balanyr counts out a large pile of stones. A rush of nerves flutter in my stomach. Those must be the family votes for Alana or me.
Boss Stellan taps the glass of Taurean’s jar, and his voice booms throughout the atrium. “Taurean, crafter. You have received your retrial.”
The crowd cheers. Taurean jumps up and down, knees pulled high to his chest. I can’t help but smile. He pushes his way through the crowd and shakes Boss Stellan’s hand. Taurean waves to the crowd. That’s the first slot gone. There are two more.
“You may proceed to deck three for your trial. The judges will be waiting for you.”
Taurean wipes sweaty palms on his uniform trousers, proceeding to the staircase.
Boss Balanyr adds the large pile of stones to one of the jars, and Vance seizes my arm.
“That’s your jar!” he bellows.
I freeze. Boss Balanyr compares the level of stones in the jars. Charmaine walks over from where she’s been leaning against the wall, studying the proceedings. She whispers fiercely in Balanyr’s ear, but he shrugs.
“Rosaline, resurrector. You have received your retrial.”
A wave of applause rushes over me. Asralyn wraps me in a tight hug.
Tears stream down her cheeks as the kids cheer.
Before I know it, I’m being hoisted off my feet.
Niko lifts me into the air while Zora and Ivander fight through the crowd to reach me.
They’re still dressed in elaborate costumes, but they clap as they get close.
Isla smacks Niko’s arm. “Don’t grab people,” she says.
Niko’s shoulders dip as he deflates, setting me down. “But it’s a special moment.”
“I don’t care—”
I wave my arms at Isla, laughing now. “It’s okay. I can’t believe it!”
Our unbridled excitement infects other staff members.
They’re probably just marveling at how a girl so hated by the bosses with undoubtedly the creepiest gift on the ship could have made it this far.
And the truth is, I couldn’t have. Not without Ivander, Zora, Isla, Niko, Alana …
I’ve got the second retrial slot. There’s one more open.
I turn in time to hear Boss Charmaine call over the roaring crowd. “Ambriel, mender. You have received your retrial.”
Ambriel rushes forward to shake Charmaine’s hand, tears wetting her cheeks. That’s the last slot. Taken. My friends and I fall silent as we look around for Alana. “What?” Isla shouts. She puts a hand to her mouth as Zora grabs her arm.
Niko shakes his head, looking to Ivander for an explanation. “What happened? She was in the lead. Everyone knew it.”
Ivander’s mouth hangs open. I can’t make eye contact with him. Of course Ambriel deserves it, too, but Alana was a sure thing. Everyone’s been talking about her for weeks.
The rest of the time goes by in slow motion. I tear myself away from my friends and make myself move toward the Stallard family. I don’t expect the lump that rises in my throat as I stand before them. At the beginning of the cruise, that feeling was for an entirely different reason.
Sage and Ezra grab on to my legs. “Will we see you next time?”
“Of course,” I choke out, although one look from Asralyn tells me the truth. There won’t be a next time. She’s certain of the danger aboard now.
Vance extends his hand to me. “Thank you for helping our family.” He swallows hard, pushing the frames of his rectangular glasses up his nose. “Your father should be proud of you.”
Unable to speak, I shake his hand. It’s funny that I can’t think of one moment I’m particularly proud of as a concierge.
It’s a collection of little moments that has made me feel responsible for this family.
Knowing what happened to their daughter makes me wonder if the entire Damarcus family is to blame.
We didn’t take the time to learn what life was really like on the Celestial.
We didn’t stop to ask if it was fair, if it was dangerous.
Asralyn presses a slip of paper into my hand. “I’ve written where you can find us in Sarryndar,” she says. “You must write and tell us what happens with your trial. Good or bad.”
I let out a heavy exhale. The atrium’s starting to empty as families depart the ship. Those staying for additional weeks leave for another deck, on to the next activity.
My body trembles, but I take Asralyn’s hand and kiss her opal ring. I can’t forgive everything she put me through, but I understand her better now. “You were not an easy first guest.” I straighten and smile. “But it was worth it. I’m glad to have met your family.”
I curtsy to the four of them and cross to the spiral staircase. Although Ezra and Sage call out to me, I don’t look back. I blink back the tears threatening to fall. Curling my hands into fists, I force them to stop shaking.
With surprise, I realize that some of the staff are crying and hugging each other. Many of them have reached the end of their four-year work sentence. When they depart the ship, they’ll be directed by armed soldiers to a Morphia extraction zone in Windmere.
The thought makes the joy and adrenaline from getting my retrial vanish. If I fail my retrial, I don’t get four years to prove myself. One retrial. Maybe I should have waited a year, delayed my trial like Ivander.
But I can’t allow myself to think about failing—not this time. There are no heavy, expensive gowns or important family members to hide behind. My friends helped get me this far. But now, I must walk into my retrial alone.
I must leave with my Morphia if I want to have any chance of saving their magic too.