Chapter 22
Twenty-two
Jada
“Krythos continues to show no signs of life. Every pass has shown it to be dark and desolate.”
My pen scribbles the words down onto parchment as Elio, a member of the Kosmos, speaks then.
I didn’t expect the meetings between the Kosmos to be lively…
but this is dreadfully boring. The Order has taken turns discussing the surrounding planets, giving status reports and updates—even on planets lacking inhabitants.
I never knew the galaxies held so many, and the names of them all are lost in my mind, blurring together in endings of “as”, “os,” and “es.” A little variety would be nice.
I eye the Order member as he speaks, and I’ll give it to him; he’s not bad looking, for being a potentially ancient immortal male.
He looks younger than the rest, if I had to guess.
His eyes are what get me. They’re the palest of blues, with gold streaking across the iris, as if a solar flare struck.
They contrast greatly with his bronzed skin and golden–white hair.
Those eyes flick to me, penetrating to my soul.
I suppress a shiver and look down at the words I’m writing.
Pluto’s fingers tap against the arm of his throne slowly.
“You’re certain?” While spoken softly, his words echo throughout the empty chamber.
The space doubles as a throne room and a ballroom, elegant and overstated, emphasizing the Kosmos’ presence and power.
I can only imagine what the room would look like full of guests.
Alluring ballgowns sweeping across the floor, soft harmonies twirling through the air, regal decor draped elegantly—
One of the Order clears their throat, pulling me back to the present. Pen poised, I await Elio’s response. Slowly, he enunciates each word. “Unless I’ve missed something with my searches, then yes, I am positive.”
Pluto hums while Portia examines her nail beds, looking as uninterested as I feel internally.
I haven’t learned the other members’ names yet.
Some look on attentively to the conversation at hand, while others quietly whisper to one another.
How do the dynamics work among the twelve of them?
Do they resent Pluto being in charge? How did they come to be?
I have so many questions that, hopefully, in my time within the Hall, I will learn the answers to. Patience, Jada.
“I continue to feel a power there, almost as if it were a presence,” Pluto admits.
“What are they hiding from me?” he quietly ponders, almost as if to himself.
More abrasively, he adds with a definitive nod, “Continue the searches on a weekly basis.” Quickly, his head snaps to mine as my pen touches the parchment. “Do not document that last bit.”
Following his instructions, I lift the pen and nod quickly, earning myself a soft smile of approval in return. “That will be all for today unless someone has anything else to add?”
“I think it’s time we discussed the girl.” A deep voice drawls towards the end of the dais. His head is disguised by the hooded cloak each Kosmos wears.
A heaviness lingers in the air in the aftermath of his request. They can’t possibly be talking about Zellie, can they? Nerves have my body fidgeting, unrest causing me to hold my breath as I await their response.
“She is of no concern and is following through with her occupational and civil responsibilities—end of discussion, Jenson.” My neat handwriting punctuates the last of the letters, and I straighten in my seat as the other Kosmos file out of their seats and the room.
“Miss Bellamy, I don’t need to remind you that everything you overhear in these meetings is strictly confidential, do I?”
I look up, meeting Pluto’s dark eyes. It’s impossible to determine the color of his eyes. Dark brown? Black? Or are his pupils so large they swallow the color whole? I swallow, shrinking beneath his scrutinizing gaze.
“No—” I startle. “Of course not.”
“Excellent. Thank you for your assistance today. You can file the notes with the secretary on your way out.”
“Of course, it was my pleasure.”
“Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thank you. You as well.”
I scurry from my seat, fleeing the throne room and pushing down the feeling that the Kosmos are harboring some truly terrible feelings against my best friend.
I come to an abrupt halt in the secretary’s office, almost crashing into someone’s back.
A small crowd has formed around the hanging screen above the secretary’s desk.
Large paintings and thick rugs are purposely placed to elevate the room, but all that accomplishes is making it feel stuffy.
Both the walls and floors are a darkened wood, giving the space a small feel.
That, combined with the people, and I’m itching to get out of the congested room.
I nudge my way through, offering “sorry” and “excuse me” to each person I push against. After an eternity of politely elbowing employees, I reach the desk, only to find the secretary also entertained by the screen. Does anyone around here work?
“Uh, hi. Hello?” I may as well be talking to myself. “Excuse me, I only need to file these, and I can be on my way.” I’d also like to go relax and enjoy my day.
Finally, she turns her head towards me, her mousy brown hair and eyes assessing me. “Just place them in the correct bin to be filed.” She gestures towards the stacked bins on her desk dismissively and turns her back to me.
I breathe out through my nose and quickly scan the labels on the bin, finding one named THE Kosmos Internal Meetings. Smirking, I place the papers down into the bin and turn to push through the crowds once more, eager to continue my exploration of Astralis.
A familiar voice catches my attention, throwing me off guard and stopping me in my tracks. My heart lurches, dropping into my stomach as I turn and look at the screen.
“My name is Zellie Toro, and I refuse to bow to tyranny. Remember this moment as the beginning of the end. The end of surviving and the start of our fight. Fate favors the dreamers. Together, we will rise.”
No. Oh, no.
Zellie, what have you gotten yourself into?