Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
“Are you from Selhveina?”
The cup slipped from my hands, scalding liquid spilling over my palms as I tried to right it on the counter. I bit the inside of my cheek and shook out my fingers.
“Fuck, sorry,” Zoleka murmured behind me.
I wiped my tingling hands on the sides of my pants before I turned with my now half-empty cup.
Zoleka sat at the small communal table, a few parchment texts spread out before her.
Her silver hair was piled onto the top of her head and fastened into place with an ornate black comb, but her usual finery was gone, replaced by a comfortable-looking dark red dress that covered her wrists and fell to the floor beneath her chair.
She gestured to the back of her neck. “I saw your mark.”
With a frown, I took a sip. I’d tied my hair back into a braid and hadn’t realized that when I’d pulled it over my shoulders to refasten the tie it had exposed the top of my brand.
When I didn’t say anything, Zoleka turned back to the table, pulled forward one of the heavy texts and spread her hand out across its front. “I think this was made on your home planet. They’re…they’re really rare now and…”
Carefully I set the cup down on the counter, making sure to wipe my fingers before I approached her. She pushed the text closer to the edge and, with hands I wished weren’t trembling, I flipped the text over. Drawing the back cover open, I scoured the bottom left-hand corner of the page.
It was there, the small mark of my people—my people.
The ones who were now dead and gone, given over to the forest and the animals around our home tree.
I traced the three overlapping swirls engraved into the parchment and hated that I could no longer see clearly in my mind the face of the one who had made it.
A hand covered mine and I jumped, but Zoleka didn’t seem to mind. She only smiled sadly at me, closed the back cover and weighed it in her hands. “Here.”
Blinking, I stared at one of the only remnants of my people.
She stood slowly, tugged one of my arms out from where I’d wrapped them around myself, and pressed the text into my palms. “You’re welcome to look through it.
” I shook my head and tried to push it toward her, but she only smiled and tapped her fingertips on the cover, moving it back in my direction.
“I’ve finished with this one. It’s an old text on Akahzyrian mates. ”
I searched her face, looking for any hint there was some ulterior motive. No one merely gave, not without wanting something in return. My hand flexed around the book and the scent of parchment drifted across my face, stinging the corners of my eyes.
“How long has it been?” she murmured, lowering herself back into a chair.
Maybe this was what she wanted in exchange. And I wondered if I could do it, if I could rip open this small piece of myself so I could replace it with this piece of my people instead. I took the chair beside her and placed the book on my lap, fingers spread wide across the cover.
“It’s been twelve cycles since I last saw my planet.” My voice was barely more than a rasp. I attempted to clear it.
Something like satisfaction curled at the corners of her lips, but it didn’t make my hackles rise, even when she nodded. “It has been nineteen since I last saw my own. Such a thing is a heavy loss.”
I stilled, waiting for her to ask about my mark or where I’d been before. But when she didn’t continue, I cleared my throat again. “Where are you from?”
Zoleka stilled, a silvery brow raising in surprise. “Haptium.”
I shifted slightly on my seat. “I knew a female from Haptium. She was a singer. Similar clothes and hair.”
“Our style does give us away, doesn’t it? Much like how you can spot a Louxurian from across the room even from the cut of their clothes or the gems on their fingers.”
The corner of my mouth twitched and I nodded. Some strange bit of warmth flickered through my chest as she sighed, tracing the burn mark on the table as I had the other day.
“My father was a singer, as was my sister. But I followed in my mother’s footsteps. Academics was my passion and I chose to study at the Citadel rather than performing with them.”
I leaned back, blowing out a breath of surprise.
The Citadel was one of the most prestigious learning institutions in the galaxy, nestled within the heart of Cahrif I.
The Class One planet was famed for its works of art and for the philosophers and academics who flocked to it cycle after cycle.
Our village had made countless texts for the Citadel and it hadn’t been unusual to receive gifts from the buyers on top of the credits they paid.
Their gifts were part of how I’d been educated in reading and writing Universal. “They didn’t want you to be a scholar?”
Zoleka’s laugh was warm. “They were happy I was happy. I’d never seen my mother so proud as when I was accepted into the Citadel.”
“Do you see them often?” I asked.
Her eyes took on a crystalline sheen. “They’re long gone, cycles ago, before I ever finished my apprenticeship. Died in transit to visit me on Cahrif I when a group of mercenaries boarded their ship by mistake.”
That heavy pit in my stomach opened, throat tightening at the sight of her grief so plain across her face.
I swallowed, my tongue thick with the things I didn’t know how to say.
But Zoleka didn’t seem to need words. After a moment she dragged another text toward her.
“Anyway, that’s how I ended up here. I spent all my credits trying to find out who took their lives and I found Asher. ”
A splutter slipped through my lips. “Captain Ruciyah—”
“—helped me find them and bring them to justice with the Federation. And when I learned what his plans were, well…I wanted to help him.”
I frowned. Maybe she didn’t know what the captain’s true plans were with the stone. Zoleka didn’t appear to be the kind of individual who would be okay with wholesale murder—with entire planets disappearing into atoms. But then again, no one was ever exactly what they seemed.
“Evening.” Maxtalen shuffled into the room, running a hand down his face.
And though the moment slid away, I found my shoulders didn’t curl with tension as he filled his cup. Not even when he placed another in front of me, refilled with the drink I’d come to love.
“Thank you.”
Both of them smiled at me. Maxtalen settled in beside me, placed his tablet on the table and tapped it. “So far the invitations from your friend haven’t come through and your names haven’t appeared on any sort of list I can find.”
“It’s only been a handful of days, it’ll take time,” Zoleka soothed.
But the mention of the gala had my pulse pounding. The memory of Captain Ruciyah’s hands on me made my stomach turn, knowing soon we’d have to pretend again.
Maxtalen turned toward me, eyeing the text in my lap. “What are you doing with that?”
Before I could even think of an answer, Zoleka leaned forward. “Juniper is helping me with some research. I’ve asked her to give that a once-over to see if there’s anything I missed.”
Golden brows rose in surprise as he looked between us. “Of course. Maybe I could use your assistance as well, Juniper, if you wanted.”
My throat clicked with a swallow and I turned the new cup slowly, careful to keep it away from the edge of the table in case it spilled. But before I could answer, Crux appeared from one of the corridors, dark eyes flashing.
“Maxtalen, you’re needed in nav,” he rasped, cracking his knuckles as he sauntered over to the renderer and slapped a button.
The male beside me threw me a strangely disappointed look before running back the way he’d come, juggling his full cup and tablet. Silence descended thickly as Crux made his drink, humming a song under his breath that sounded familiar. Something I might have heard others singing on Ebyd III.
“Bit of light reading?” Crux leaned back against the counter, gaze raking over my face as if he was looking for something beneath the surface of my skin.
I frowned, tracing a hand over the cover, and placed it on the table.
I would not let this stranger see my weakness.
So I ignored Zoleka’s protests as I slid it back to her.
I also ignored the way Crux straightened, the furrow between his brows, and the heavy thump of boots on the floor that announced the captain’s arrival.
Someone might have said something, or called my name, but I blocked it out as I did what I did best:
I disappeared.
But when I finally returned to my room later in the night from the small storage room I’d found, I could barely fight back the burn in my throat.
The book was waiting for me at my door