40. Forbidden Communication
FORBIDDEN COMMUNICATION
SOPHIA – THE ASTRAL SPIRE, JUST BEFORE ELENA REACHES FOR HER
I sit statue-still in the High Lord’s receiving chamber, hands folded in my lap, face locked in the mask I learned to wear as a soldier on New Terra.
Polished stone stretches from the dais to the horizon line of the main doors.
It’s cold enough that I can feel it through my shoes.
The blue light is everywhere right now—shining through the stained-glass windows, bouncing off the marble, shading us all in blue. The High Lord chooses the colors.
And everything else. Like my dress.
My dress today is more corset than fabric.
The stiff frame digs into the soft spot at my waist, but I keep my back straight.
When I shift, the rivets grind against my ribs, but there’s no point adjusting.
The guards never look away, and the High Lord’s house likes its women static. I don’t want to attract attention.
I can do this. I’ve done worse.
The priestesses float through the chamber on whisper-soft steps. They have three fingers per hand and the faces of humanoid birds, eyes oddly small and wide-set. They walk with heads tilted forward. Jarrett enjoys their singing.
Across from me, several other courtwives are arrayed like painted dolls on their own platforms. Their skin comes in alien shades, limbs a hair too long, hands wrong, faces odd.
They aren’t human. Humanoid, with all the right surface markers, but none of what makes us really us.
They don’t talk to me. I don’t talk to them.
The lack of children shocked me. I thought the High Lord himself would have the most wives—especially when he described the courtwife situation. But the rulers on Xytheos are engineered to rule, not play house.
We New Terrans aren’t just one of many brides for these rulers. We’re the only hope they’ve had for hundreds of years. Maybe a thousand.
And Jarrett’s bride, Maya, is sick. Something is very wrong with her mind right now. A side effect from the Concord Stone’s so-called gifts? Maybe. Or maybe Jarrett interfering with it. He’s with her mind far too often.
The chamber’s ceiling disappears into black, somewhere above the floating chandeliers.
Gold and crystal, hundreds of tiers, each with its own miniature flame.
No heat, just that cold blue. Along the walls, the ceremonial guards stand every three meters.
They look identical, too. It’s creepy how alike they are.
They’re all male, seven feet tall, and built strong.
They wear long, blue cloaks that mark them as property of the High Lord.
I keep my breathing shallow and measured.
Save energy, let the skin go numb, become the chair and let time erase you until the world moves again.
My ceremonial skirt reaches the floor. There are layers of raw silk dyed in indigo and silver, and the hem weighted with what feels like lead.
Elena could build a small drone using the alloys strapped to my calves and spine, but here I’m expected to be decorative.
Any fidget and the guards will clock it. Jarrett will clock it through them.
The guards’ eyes are vacant, but I know better. Jarrett sees through everything in this place, through the men and women and anything else. There is no “alone” here.
No “alone” for me, and no “alone” for Jarrett anymore, either.
The Concord Stone’s gift to Maya and me made sure of that.
I have to suppress my connection with concentrated effort.
It wants me to use it. That stupid Stone pushes at me all the time.
I keep it locked down. Not because I’m afraid of being caught—I am—but because I don’t know what Jarrett will do to me.
Or to Maya. Jarrett keeps his threats vague.
I don’t know the extent of Maya’s gift, but I know it’s a problem for her and Jarrett. And Maya seems to be paying for it.
They want obedience, not skill. They thought they wanted human mates, but the reality of human females wasn’t something they were prepared for. We’re too different.
I’m waiting to see how they’ll handle it. The guards are physical, but Jarrett is not. His mind is everywhere, pulling at things. Except in times like now, when Jarrett is distracted by Maya. He’s physically with her.
The rumors say it’s keeping her from breaking. But I wonder.
The High Lord kept her close from the beginning, always a step behind him, always in shadow. I saw it in my mind. Now, she’s kept in isolation. Her “episodes” are getting worse, enough that the High Lord himself is sequestered with her, trying to suppress them.
That leaves me alone, which should be an advantage. But I know the High Lord’s second is watching me.
His name is Toriben, and he stands just left of the dais, arms folded.
Watching. He’s not as tall as the guards.
He’s not vacant like them, either. I don’t think Jarrett watches through his eyes like he does with the others.
Though Toriben is pale and blond like Jarrett, he still reminds me too much of Vorak.
Broad and scarred. The sameness of the guards creeps me out, but Toriben? He deals in death.
At least he only speaks when directly addressed. Even then, it’s just single words. Much better than Vorak’s bloviating speeches.
The ceremonial incense wafts toward me. It burns in tall brass-colored braziers. The smoke coils up in tight ropes toward the ceiling. The smell is sharp, and the longer I breathe it, the more I’m certain it’s meant to numb my senses in Jarrett’s absence.
I used to think Xytheos was a prison. Now I see it’s a game, and the rulers are the players. My job is to last as long as possible, and maybe tilt the board before any of my Starfallen sisters are sacrificed.
I wonder sometimes if the High Lord has decided Maya’s body is worth dealing with her mind, or if he’s simply waiting for her to break so he can proceed with an empty shell.
If he’s as ruthless as I think, then he’ll keep her mind intact until she’s too much of a threat.
Then he’ll end it. He’ll do the same to me.
I try not to think about it. I try to focus on the court, on the breathing, on the guard rotations. I let my mind empty, the way they trained us in the military—one thought at a time, until there’s nothing left but the rhythm of the body, the slow beat of the heart.
But a sudden headache spikes behind my eyes. I freeze, hands clenching in my lap. This is the strongest it’s ever been. I want to clutch my head, but I can’t let the guards see.
Elena’s presence floods my mind. I don’t know how she gets through, but it’s like being clocked with a rifle butt.
I’m grateful the High Lord is distracted right now, because I’m struggling to hide this.
I clamp down hard on my external expression.
The memory of basic training overrides the panic, just enough to keep me from making a scene.
But I can’t help the small gasp that escapes my lips. It ricochets off the marble and draws eyes. I let my body slump and cough hard to cover my reaction.
Toriben is on me in a heartbeat. He moves with complete silence, kneeling at my platform’s edge, the line of his jaw set to “interrogation.”
“Pollen,” I say, voice rough, coughing still. “Or smoke. Incense is strong.”
He doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t press. He signals for a priestess to bring water, and the creature glides over with a goblet. I take it with both hands, spill a little on my dress for good measure, so I have another chance to move.
The psychic wave is still breaking through me. I choke down the water, focusing on the coolness of it in my throat.
An image comes—a woman’s hand, reaching through a wall of fire, fingers spread.
The skin is dark and smooth. The nails are bitten short.
Dana. A biome of hot sand, a sky so cloudless, and Dana’s face, jaw clenched, eyes rimmed red.
Elena explains what she needs me to find. She's handing the job to me.
My stomach drops. I can reach Dana. I can reach all the other Starfallen women. But I’ve been careful. Sneaky. They don’t even know I’m there. It has to be that way, so Jarrett doesn’t know.
The message is more than clear, though. Elena can’t reach Dana—so I have to be the link. We’re all in danger from whoever brought us here to Xytheos.
I push her out of my mind, hard and fast, before I’m caught. My arms and legs buzz with pins and needles, and for a second my vision tunnels. I blink hard, try to steady my breath.
Toriben keeps watching from two steps away. If he thinks I’m a threat, he’ll act. I don’t think he would dare to hurt me, but he’ll tell Jarrett. I need to look as harmless as possible.
I push my hands flat against the chair, forcing the tremors to still. My body is a wreck—every nerve ending scorched—but the exterior is solid. That’s all that matters right now.
I wait for the world to settle. When the aftershocks fade, I let my eyes sweep the room again, slower this time, letting every detail root me in the present.
The courtwives haven’t moved. The guards haven’t changed formation.
Even the incense smoke curls the same way as before. Toriben returns to his post.
But I know, in my chest, that the next move is mine, and I have to do it now, while Jarrett remains distracted. If I wait until I’m alone, until night, Jarrett will be in my head.
I brace, then reach for Dana.
The psychic bond is a taut line, invisible until I pull on it, then bright and raw as a power cable stripped of insulation.
I slip around Jarrett’s wall.
The world recedes—the marble, the blue light, even the pressure of the dress at my ribs. It’s all gone. I’m flying blind, one thought at a time, seeking Dana in the psychic dark. I hope the body I’ve left remains masked.
The connection snaps into place, and my skin warms under a sunlit sky. I taste salt, and a grit that sandpapers my tongue. There’s a wind, constant, whispering over every exposed inch of my face. The light is white and bright, and the sky is cloudless. Dry.
I force my voice into her head, using the shape of her name to cut through the static.
Dana.
The world tightens. I feel her awareness lock onto me, her anger braced like a wall.
She doesn’t recognize me, not at first. She’s been alone too long, fighting something I can’t see, and every instinct tells her to kill the intruder.
Maybe she knows Jarrett’s got a wall on her.
I have to let her know it’s me. Really me.
I send the number twenty—twenty Starfallen, twenty left alive on Xytheos. She pauses, the wall softening just enough for me to slip in the message.
I picture New Terra. I picture the old world, the ruined sky, the bunkers where we survived. She’ll know I’m a friend, even if she can’t pick up my name. I send the words—danger, bioweapon, Xytheos.
I don’t have time for more. The High Lord’s awareness rouses on the edge of my mind, a cold press against my temples, seeking the source of the connection. I can’t risk him seeing us.
Dana doesn’t understand. But the High Lord is closing in, his presence a vice tightening on my skull.
I sever the link before he can find me.
The recoil hits hard—a snap and a tearing pressure behind my eyes—and I fold forward in my chair, one hand braced against my temple. My breath stutters. I force a cough, then another, sharp and ugly, fighting against the corset as if it’s crushing my lungs.
The chamber’s eyes are all on me. Jarrett will see every second of this through their eyes.
Toriben is watching me closely. His gaze flicks to the way I can’t quite draw a full breath. He touches two fingers to the side of his throat. “Sovereign,” he says quietly. “Sophia is unwell.”
The words are barely out before he’s beside me, gripping my arm. He pulls me to my feet as another cough tears out of me.
“I can’t—” I rasp, clutching at my ribs. A half-lie is what I need. It will pass Jarrett’s scrutiny. It has to. “The corset. It’s wrong for humans. I need it off. Now. I can’t breathe.”
That does it.
Toriben swears under his breath, scoops me up, and turns for the medical wing at a run.
I go rigid at his hands touching me. But Toriben is not Vorak. And I need him to get me away from everyone’s eyes.
"Clear the way," he snaps to anyone who moves.
He carries me into a small medical room. The doors seal behind us.
Privacy. Blessed, sudden privacy. Almost.
I’m still coughing.
Toriben sets me down and tears open the corset like he’s executing something.
The pressure releases in a rush, and I gasp, air flooding back into my lungs. I’m torn between blessed relief and absolute fury at him for touching me. For ripping off part of my clothing. Like he’s Vorak. I stare at him with every ounce of hatred I’ve saved up for Xytheos.
At first, he’s completely unapologetic. “Humans can die quickly without air,” he says. “Even Xytheos warriors can die quickly without air.”
“You touched me!” I hiss.
His face drops as he takes in my torn corset, my general disarray. My anger. He kneels. “I will report to the High Lord for punishment.”
“No,” I say quickly, knowing that if he does that, Jarrett will want details. He’ll figure it out. Jarrett knows too much already, and he has the advantage of being in my mind.
Toriben looks unsure. “Violations must be reported.”
I almost feel bad for him. In the past minute or so, he’s spoken more words than he has in weeks. I wasn’t even sure he could speak more than a word or two at a time. The anger drains out of me, and the calculation creeps in.
“I give you permission. Only under these circumstances. What you did was right. Not a violation,” I say, hoping he’ll fall for my plan.
I have no idea what kind of permission I can give anyone here.
“If this happens again when Jarrett isn’t present, you bring me somewhere private.
Like this room. Immediately. We’ll tell no one else. ”
He hesitates.
“We don’t need to tell Jarrett as long as I recover quickly,” I add. “And I’ll recover faster if I’m left alone. Just for a few minutes.”
Another pause. Then he nods once and steps back.
“I’ll give you a few minutes,” he says. “That’s all.”
He leaves.
The moment the door seals, I reach out again. Just for a breath. Just long enough.
Dana.
White sand. Wind. Her shadow stretched long and sharp across the ground.
I give her Elena’s message, feeling like I’ll need to perform this dangerous dance time after time to help all of my Starfallen sisters.
When Toriben returns, I’m seated, breathing evenly, every trace of weakness locked back behind my ribs. He scans me, the relief and wariness on his face evident. He's the only guard who's ever touched me without Jarrett's permission. By the look on Toriben’s face, we’re walking a very fine line.
I have to hope Dana makes this worth it.