Chapter 63
Sixty-three
Zellie
The masquerade provides the perfect cover for us to blend in.
At this point, Lando and Brinn are the only ones the Kosmos aren’t actively looking for.
The risk they are all putting themselves at is not lost on me.
“We should split up. They’d know we would be together.
” I murmur, taking a flute of champagne off a server’s tray with no intention of drinking it.
“No offense, love, but you look nothing like yourself. They aren’t even concerned with us showing our faces tonight.
I’m not letting you out of my sight, not after what happened—” Orion cuts himself off, realizing his error in bringing up my capture.
I squeeze his arm, conveying that I’m okay.
Well, not okay—but talking about it with him, giving voice to my feelings…
it has helped make it all feel lighter. Not as heavy a burden—almost manageable, even.
My eyes scan the foyer, taking inventory of who is here, and more importantly, who isn’t.
There’s no sign of the Kosmos anywhere. A head of white hair, half pulled up, captures my attention, causing my head to whip back in a double-take.
No. I march over, watching the yellow tips of her hair sway as she laughs, deep in conversation. Gripping her arm, I pull her away.
“What the—Zellie? Is that you?”
“Celeste, you can’t be here.”
Her head rears back. “What do you mean ‘I can’t be here’? Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks, Zellie.”
I shake my head. “You need to leave. Now.”
She laughs lightly, but the sound trails off at my stern expression. “Why? What is going on?”
“Can you keep your voice down?” I nervously glance around. “They can’t know I’m here. This is going to be dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“The entire city was invited. My best friend hasn’t been around, so forgive me for trying to find ways to entertain myself in this new life of mine.
If my being here was such an issue, maybe you should have warned me about it beforehand.
Maybe you should have thought of it before you shoved me into a black hole in your life, Zellie.
I’ve done nothing but try to be here for you.
You’re not the only one who is healing, you know. ”
Hurt and sorrow line her features. Fuck, she’s right.
I’ve been a terrible friend. I’ve been so busy trying to spare the ones I care about, to keep them safe, that I’m unwittingly pushing them away.
“I know. I was wrong to do that to you, and I’m so sorry, but I cannot risk losing you right now.
I promise to explain everything later, but shit is going to go down here, and I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. Can you please just trust me on this?”
Celeste’s fingers tap against her own champagne flute while apprehension and distrust she throws my way slices me into pieces. “Okay,” she sighs. “But you owe me some serious time together after this.”
“It’s a deal.”
“Zell? Please be careful.” My lips form into a tight smile—the best I can offer her, as I pull her into a squeeze.
There will be no more casualties; we have all lost enough.
I breathe easier once she’s gone, Orion rejoining me before we step in time towards the throne room. Together. We do this together.
The enchantments have lost their allure, a haze obscuring what’s meant to impress like a nebula passing in orbit.
From atop the stairs, I see him, past the harps and cellos plucking strings delicately, past the cosmic rays shooting across a patterned sky in the rolled out carpet, at the end of the chairs and tables cloaked in golden decadence, dripping in velvet.
Our masks may obscure us, but this fine decor is the biggest illusion of all.
You’re not fooling anyone, Pluto. Underneath it all, you’re dark, and empty, and as slimy as a fucking space worm.
Brinn and Seb work the room, weaving through columns and alcoves to greet others I recognize as members of the Children of the Constellation from various meetings I’ve attended.
“Portia sighting, directly northwest to you guys.” Lando’s gravely voice crackles through the wisp like a whisper on the wind. We shift, heading to the right side of the room instead.
I lean into Orion, my lips brushing his ear as I speak. “Pluto’s on his throne. How do we draw him out?”
“By doing what you do best.”
“Seducing you?”
“I was going to say being dramatic, but you’re right, you are far better at that.”
“I’m not dramatic!”
“Pfft. Please. Says the woman who stood and singled Pluto out with a finger.”
“He was a marked man. Only fair of me to let him know.”
“Case in point. When you do things, you do them big.”
“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or encouraging me.”
“Encouraging, always.”
“You’re obligated to say that.”
“Have I not asked you time and time again to include me in planning your shenanigans?”
“Simply because you hated being left out of the fun. Maybe I should remind you of how boring you were as a sponsor—”
Lando’s voice interrupts us in an angry rush. “Can you two stop fucking flirting with each other and focus?”
I clear my throat. “Right. Dramatic display for optimal distraction. Coming right up.”