by AJ Super
Phoebe’s clothing rustled as she shifted in her seat. “No. Nue, Nyx’s mother… She was the assistant.”
Nyx sat up like a shot.
And stared straight into the blue of Malcam’s eyes.
Her breath caught. The white room materialized around her. She rested on the white divan next to the emerald spathiphylum crowned by gold bees. A sapphire dragonfly perched on the edge of the white flower of the peace lily.
She looked wildly around her. She had questions for Phoebe. The white room shouldn’t have appeared now. Not now.
Malcam tipped his head, and she exhaled softly. She lifted her hand to touch his face. He shifted and sat next to her on the divan.
“Are you really here?”
He smiled sadly.
She put her hands in her lap and stared at her flexed fingers. She wanted to hold his hand. Touch his face. Feel his warmth. But she couldn’t even see his calm blue waves. No energy emitted from this shadow of Malcam.
“What are you going to do?” Malcam graveled.
“I’m going to take that salope’s head,” Nyx said calmly. “I’m going to take it and put it on the bow of my ship.”
“Why? You didn’t love me. Did you?”
Nyx’s heart stopped. Her throat tightened. “But you… you loved me,” she eked out.
“Why does that matter? You have thousands of people who love you.”
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “You loved me as plain old Nyx.”
The shadow of Malcam nodded.
“Why did you do it? Why did you sacrifice yourself? I’m a terrible god.”
“I loved you. How could I not save you?”
Nyx sat in silence. “If I go back, will you still be here?”
Malcam shrugged.
“Then why would I leave? We can be together here.”
“I’m not really here.”
Nyx nodded. “I know. I just… don’t want to miss you. You promised to be with me. Support me.”
“Promises get broken. People get broken.” Malcam glanced at Nyx. “Don’t let this break you.”
“The strong rise? Is that why you’re here? To remind me that the strong rise?”
“You are strong, princess.”
Nyx paused. “I can’t be your princess anymore. I have to be stronger than that. I have to be more than that.”
Malcam smiled and tipped his head. “Queen Nyx has a good ring to it.”
She bit her cheek and grinned wickedly. “I am strong. I am Queen Nyx. The strong rise. Queens rise.”
“I think you understand.”
Nyx stood. “I’ll take the Protectorate, the universe. I’ll start with that so-called First Line of Nyx. That Progenitor. I’ll take her head. For you.”
“Whatever you want, my queen. My god. My Nyx. Terrible and beautiful.”
She spun around to face Malcam.
He was gone. As if he had never been there.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, her vision resolved on the darkness of the crook of her elbow. Isabeau’s hand settled on her head, running through her hair, comforting. Nyx’s back ached with sobs, and her face was damp. Had she been sleeping and crying? Had the white room and Malcam been a dream? Her white room had never been a dream before. It had been a safe space where she could create her reality. Did she create her own Malcam?
Isabeau cooed behind her.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” Nyx rolled her head up. “I needed a moment. I’m not going to have the time to mourn him when we get to the Andraste.”
“We know.” Yoon towered over Isabeau’s shoulder. “Do what you need to do.”
“Proximity alert,” Raphael called out from the pilot seat. “We have company.”
Phoebe shook her head. “I fixed it so La Terre wouldn’t be able to track us. We should be fine.”
Nyx scrambled to her feet. That half-explained why Phoebe was dressed as a La Terre Engineer. She went to the bow of the shuttle, plopping in the co-pilot’s chair. She keyed up the console and immediately received a coded narrow-wave. She popped it on the small view-screen to her right, jaw dropping.
George Paladichuk’s lop-sided grin lolled. “Need a ride?”
Nyx rubbed her puffy eyes. “What are you doing back here, Paladichuk? I thought I said I’d kill you if I saw you again.”
He bowed his head. “Yeah. But that mastiff of a boyfriend you have made me promise to come back and get you.”
Nyx choked. Malcam was saving them. Saving her. Again.
Paladichuk’s lanky co-pilot pushed him aside and popped on the wave. “Also promised some sweet cargo. Better keep up your end of the deal.”
Paladichuk’s hand obscured his cousin’s face and pushed him out of the wave camera. “Yeah. I suppose there’s that, too. But since you didn’t kill me the first time ‘round, I took a chance that you’d rather not take the slow boat to the Andraste. Besides, I voted that it sucked to just run away. That this would be more fun.”
In the background, his co-pilot grumbled. “You voted. It’ll be more fun. Bah. Just get the cargo and let’s go.”
Nyx glanced at Raphael, who was stifling his laughter. She shook her head. At least Paladichuk and his services could easily be hers with a load of ore. Even if he wasn’t really one of hers, mercenary men were easy to control with the right bid. She stared down at the narrow-wave image. “Start shuttle docking procedures and get ready to go to Yangxi X.”
Paladichuk raised a brow. “We’re not going back to the Andraste?”
“No. We have people to pick up and transport to the few ships we have. I need a larger ground force and fully crewed ships if we’re going to take La Terre.”
Paladichuk stuck his lower lip out and nodded. “Sounds fine to me. Off to home base.” He leaned forward and looked at his co-pilot. “Set course for the asteroid mine.”
“At least we’ll be out of the line of fire there,” the lanky man grumbled off camera.
Nyx reached to sever the wave. “Make sure to send a rendezvous message to the Thanatos. I want my ship to meet us there, too.”
31
Nyx sat strapped into the cold bench seat of the shuttle as Raphael de-docked it from Paladichuk’s ore hauler and zipped to the asteroid mine’s cargo bay. Paladichuk would dock in a separate bay behind them to get his reward for picking Nyx and crew up and delivering them safely back home. Nyx leaned her head back. Home. That’s what this asteroid seemed to be now. Home. Somewhere she and Malcam had built a family. A following.
Tears threatened to break down her cheeks again, and she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. She couldn’t keep on like this. This wasn’t what Malcam would want. The strong rise. She had to be strong.
The shuttle shuddered to a stop and the back hatch began to lower. Isabeau, Yoon, Erebus, and Phoebe all unstrapped and stood, preparing to walk out.
Nyx inhaled. She should stand, too. Get ready to face everything she had to face. Her breath stuttered. She clenched her teeth. Isabeau rested a hand on her shoulder, and Nyx pushed her hands to her forehead, glancing at her sisters and brother. Erebus wouldn’t look her in the eyes, and Phoebe’s grim face echoed Yoon’s. They pitied her. They felt sorry for her. They didn’t know what to say to her.
She shrugged Isabeau’s hand off her shoulder and shook her head. The back ramp had descended. “You just go. I need a moment.”
“We can stay with you,” Isabeau whispered. “You need family right now.”
Nyx shook her head again. “I…” She choked. “I don’t know what I need.”
Raphael stood from the pilot’s seat and walked to Nyx. “Go. I’ll make sure she’s fine.”
Yoon narrowed his eyes at the pilot. “She’s our sister. We should take care of her.”
Raphael tapped his chest reverently. “What she wants, I’ll make sure she has.”
Nyx smiled and a laugh bubbled up. What was this? Jealousy between the two men? “Go. Yoon, Is
abeau, take care of Phoebe and Erebus. They need as much attention as I do right now. I have Raphael. He’ll make sure I’m fine.”
Yoon’s face hardened as Isabeau turned to him and nodded towards the open hatch. “Let’s let her be. We’ll have someone check on her later.” She walked to Phoebe and Erebus and ushered them out of the shuttle, with Yoon traipsing after them.
Raphael leaned over Nyx and unbuckled the shoulder harness, slipping it over her head. “There. You can be more comfortable that way.” He sat on the bench across from her and leaned on his knees, silent.
“What am I supposed to do now, Raphael?” Nyx whispered after a long period of quiet.
He bowed his head. “I don’t know. I could give you the old Medusa nonsense about the strong rising and how you have to get past this, but you need family right now.” He glared at the shuttle’s ramp. “And not family that wants something from you.”
Nyx harrumphed and rolled her eyes. “And where am I supposed to find that?”
Raphael stood. “You trust me, right?” He held out his hands.
Nyx eyed him. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be flying me around.”
“Take my hands then.” He lifted a thick black eyebrow. “Prove it. Ma soeur.”
Nyx tipped her head and narrowed her eyes quizzically. My sister? She was his god, not his sister. But she suddenly felt herself reaching for his hands. Slowly at first, then gripping them hard, as if she would never let go.
He pulled her to standing. “Come with me.” He dropped one hand, but kept ahold of her other tightly, leading her down the ramp and out of the shuttle. He led her through a twisted thread of tunnels filled with black dust until it opened up on a large, tiered cavern. On every tier there were man-made caves, some draped with cloth, some with bars, some with wooden doors. Miners walked and lounged on the tiers, going in and out of the little side-caverns.
Nyx held her breath. She had avoided this place. The miners’ homes, once their prison cells. They had thoroughly reclaimed the space and had even thrown up a small lean-to market at the bottom, complete with a stage.
Raphael led Nyx to the stage where a familiar woman from the South Asian Republic glowing a deep pink sat with a little girl bouncing in her lap and a small crowd around her. The two stood behind the crowd, quietly observing as the woman finished her story.
“Not knowing that the cave could continue collapsing, the Star of Nyx rushed in and cut her palm. She laid hands and healed the four of us. Blessed us with her power. Now we call her savior, God, and—” The woman froze as she saw Nyx in the crowd. A tear cascaded down the woman’s pale cheek. “And sister. Because she is family now.”
A bent old man in the crowd turned to see what the woman gaped at as the little girl wiped the tear from her cheek.
“Should we go?” Nyx hushed to Raphael.
He shook his head. “This is why we’re here. To see your real family.” He gripped her hand.
The old man opened his mouth and muttered under his breath, “Mon petit papillon.” And Raphael pushed gently past him with a nod. Tapping the shoulders of the people sitting on the ground as he stepped through the crowd, Raphael led Nyx through the narrow path of growing whispers.
The woman on stage stood and put the little girl on the ground, holding her hand. She blinked hard, her eyes glassy with tears.
Nyx held her breath. What was happening? What was Raphael doing?
“Que Mai.” Raphael grinned wide at Nyx, then looked back at the tearing woman on stage. “I don’t think you really got to meet Nyx that day.”
The woman smiled softly, and the tears spread down her cheeks. “Mon Étoile. Ma soeur.” She let go of the little girl’s hand and wrapped her arms around Nyx as she and Raphael came to a stop at the skirt of the stage. “Ma soeur.”
Nyx tensed. This woman was calling her “sister,” and she had been touched by Nyx’s blood. Her deep pink aura was proof enough of that, but the brilliant white flame in its swirling midst was one of the strongest flames she had ever seen… one of the strongest connections she had ever made. Nyx pushed away. “When did I…?”
“You saved my life. My blood sister’s life, and two of my closest companion’s lives as well.” She hastily wiped the tears away. “That day in the cave-in. You risked your life…”
Nyx shook her head. “I don’t remember risking anything.”
“Did Berto not tell you? The cave mouth collapsed again just after everyone was evacuated, when the others were trying to get the crawler out. A small shift and everything was covered.”
Nyx started. She had been that close to being buried alive. For a place she was starting to consider home, it was awfully dangerous. She closed her eyes and erased the thought. Elsewhere would have its own dangers, too. She would have to pick and choose now that she had the new Protectorate and the first Star of Nyx, the Progenitor’s line, after her.
The whispers behind her were getting louder. The little girl on stage reached out and touched Nyx’s arm. “Ma soeur?”
Nyx swallowed. She was sister to these people, and she didn’t even know their names. Without Matthews here to foment their fanaticism, these were just people who wanted a connection to something bigger than themselves. Something to believe in. And if that was a larger family, taking responsibility for that…
She breathed hard. Well, the strong rose, right?
She smiled at the little girl and nodded. “Yes. You’re my sister.”
A white man shining iridescent yellow stepped from behind the flimsy curtain, grinning. “That’s what we like to hear!” He wrapped an arm around Que Mai, their flames dancing brightly and their energies twining together, and he kissed her head. A younger woman who looked much like Que Mai followed him, her neon orange tendrils whipping around her. She looked at the ground shyly and clasped her hands. On the opposite side of the stage, a lanky Black man with freckles walked up to the little girl, who turned around and reached up to him. He swept her into his arms, both giggling. His brilliant blue waves made Nyx gasp. His energy looked so much like Malcam’s that she had to collect her tendrils racing towards him and tie them tightly to herself. Was he going to be as easy to blend with? Combine energies? She didn’t want to find out.
He eyed her while bouncing the little girl in his arms. “They call us the Four Acolytes… Or your High Consul does, and they follow suit.” He nodded to the growing crowd in the little lean-to market. A hush had fallen over the gathered, all hoping to hear what was being said between the God and her Supreme Followers.
“I didn’t ask him to start that. I’m sorry if it’s a problem.”
Que Mai’s sister lurched forward. “It’s not a problem. We figured it wasn’t your fault. We’re just happy to still be alive. Blessed. Have something beyond this crummy place.”
“Connie…” Que Mai shook her head. “Excuse my sister. She’s—”
Nyx held up a hand. “She’s fine. You all can say what you need. What you want. I made you what you are, not who you are. I have no intention of stifling that.”
The man holding the little girl raised a brow, then held out a free hand. “I’m Jarrard. You’ve met Que Mai, that’s her sister Connie, and her not-so-official husband, Roger.”
Nyx scrunched her face. “Not-so-official?”
“We don’t have legal means to marry here. It’s a hiccough, but we get by,” Roger replied.
Nyx bit her cheek and tipped her head towards Raphael.
“I’ll remind you to fix that hiccough later.” He smiled.
“Thanks.” She sighed. “But what I don’t understand is,” she said, motioning to the people gathering behind her, “this. This isn’t the fanaticism that I see when I speak to the miners, or when Matthews speaks to you. This is… curiosity.”
Que Mai nodded. “Of course, it is. Our lost sister is with us. We want to know about you. Not see you on a pulpit. You may be a God, but you’re family first. Someone who protects us, who we want to protect.”
Ny
x’s breath stuttered. Raphael squeezed her hand. He hadn’t let go… Why hadn’t she noticed that? She sniffed. She was still too raw at the loss of Malcam.
Jarrard set the little girl down and whispered in her ear. She ran off the stage. “Here, you’re only as good as your crew. Here, the strong may rise, but if you have a crew, a family, you rise faster.”
Nyx’s heart beat hard. Her family was gone. Dead. Malcam was gone. “We are family now,” he had said. Those words reverberated down through her solar plexus. “We are family now.” She put her free hand to her mouth, stifling a sob.
Jarrard lifted her by the elbow onto the stage. Que Mai and Roger backed up and Connie swept around her. The four glowing acolytes surrounded her and Raphael, who still held her hand. Her white tendrils smoothed through their collective energies, twining them together, uniting them in a blinding neon painting. Each ebbed and flowed, twisted and turned, burned through the other, creating a bubble of light around them all.
Nyx couldn’t stop crying. She sank to her knees and mourned the loss of her father. Her mother. The loss of Malcam. There was no one she could trust fully anymore. No one who would love her just as she was. No one who would stay by her side.
She curled into the tiniest ball, surrounded by the warm neon glow of the possibility of a new family.
Raphael ran a hand through her hair.
A little hand reached between Jarrard and Que Mai and tapped Nyx on the shoulder. She calmed her sobs and rolled out of her fetal position. The little girl peeked between the kneeling miners and fluttered a white handkerchief towards Nyx. She grinned with her tongue out. “Jarrard said you’d need this.”
Snot ran down the side of Nyx’s face, and she opened her mouth to say thank you, but all that came was a squeak.
Raphael reached for the cloth and smiled at the little girl. “Thank you, sister. She does need it.” He turned to Nyx and wiped her face gently.
Nyx let him for a moment, then put her hand up and took the handkerchief and wiped the rest of the snot and tears from her face and nose. Then she looked down at the hand still holding Raphael’s and cleared her sticky mouth. “Your hand is sweaty,” she muttered.
