Bright Star

by Grayson Reyes-Cole

  Jackson did not respond. He ran a broad hand over his face and breathed deeply. His limbs felt like gelatin. He had never known anything. He shook his head, silently disagreeing. With what, he didn’t know.

  “Jackson,” Rush began again. “Are we okay?”

  “Yes, Rush, we are okay. But—”

  “Leave it at that, Jacks,” Rush warned. “Our mother was not defenseless. I’m not defenseless. Bright Star is not defenseless, either.”

  “That doesn’t make it right that you…”

  “It doesn’t make it right. I never should have done that. I can promise you that I won’t ever hit her again, Jackson. I won’t use Shift to hurt her either, but mark my words that she will have to be stopped one way or another. She is a danger to everyone around her. Everyone. That includes you and me. She can’t be allowed to get away with literal murder. That’s no reason to allow her to terrorize these people whether they know they’re being terrorized or not. That’s no reason for me to allow her to think up and carry out these plans that are more and more dangerous every time. What happens when I can’t save them?”

  “You mean like when you left them in the ocean to die?”

  Rush brought his finger up to tap himself repeatedly on the temple. He continued, and Jackson waited. Rush said nothing. He just tapped.

  Jackson knew he shouldn’t have said it. It was too late to take it back. There was nothing he could say. He had lashed out because his brother did not believe Bright Star could be saved. He didn’t believe she could be reasoned with or passively prevented from her course. But lashing out wouldn’t change anything. It didn’t change the very real fear that Rush was right.

  “Jackson, it is what it is,” Rush stated warily and with finality.

  “What do you want me to do?” Jackson asked.

  Rush measured him with a mental scan. Jackson was serious. Truthfully, Rush replied, “I want you to stay out of the way.”

  Jackson smiled with only half of his mouth. “I don’t know how to do that.”

  “The other choice is—”

  “The other choice,” Jackson interrupted, nodding his head, “is for you to tell me what she’s going to do. You have to tell me what you have been so afraid of for what is it… Years, now?”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? What will happen if you tell me? Do you think I won’t believe you? Do you think that just by telling me what’s happening that this catastrophic event will be set into motion rather than averted?”

  “Nothing so scripted,” Rush replied. “I haven’t told you because, honestly, Jackson, I don’t think you can handle it.”

  “Rush, please stop this. I’m an adult. I know how to take care of myself. Don’t you understand that you can’t put everything you are into being my big brother? You can’t protect me for my whole life. Or, hell, even if you can, you shouldn’t. You have to stop interfering.”

  Rush considered his next words carefully. “You’re right, Jacks. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell all of the people who live in my house for nearly a year. But I still won’t tell you. Knowing what will happen will only generate more questions. If you can’t read her yourself, then I can’t help but think you still need me.”

  “So,” Jackson said, tilting his head to the side, “What you’re saying is that if I can read her, you will trust me enough to talk about this and what you plan to do about it.”

  “Jackson, if you can read her, there’s no need for me to tell you anything,” Rush answered.

  “Then let’s find her,” Jackson stated with resignation. He looked at his watch. “The dining hall.”

  They entered the dining hall. The white room with white tables had stretched, pressed outward until it accommodated table after table after table of Followers. They were all seated in chairs covered in bright yellow satin. Vibrant orange flowers were bundled in the center of each. Heiro’s paintings, all giant blocks of yellow, lined up down the white walls.

  Rush led Jackson to the only yellow table in the room. It sat in a far corner. No one acknowledged Rush as he passed but behind his back, each of the Followers bowed his head momentarily then turned back to their tables. Rush knew what they did when he didn’t watch, but had given up on stopping them. Though they did not express outwardly, he still felt their Energy, their devotion. He sighed.

  Bright Star wasn’t there yet, so they seated themselves at the table. Rush explained to Jackson, “I hate this place. I still don’t know why they do this. I don’t know why they must break bread together at the same time every night. At first I believed it was a suggestion…”

  “You would have known if it was a suggestion.”

  “Yes,” Rush acknowledged. “It’s not a suggestion, but it has become a matter of routine which sometimes is stronger. You learned that, didn’t you?”

  “Parameters of Shift 101,” Jackson stated dryly.

  “I thought you had thrown that coursework to the dogs.” Rush showed a trace of a smile.

  “Yeah, I have.” Jackson grinned back. “When it suits me, that is.”

  “Gentlemen,” Monk greeted, joining them at the table. “It’s a surprise to see you both here.”

  “Monk,” Rush and Jackson greeted him simultaneously.

  “You guys worked things out?”

  The brothers, who now shared a new and striking resemblance that was undeniable to anyone in that dining room, nodded yes.

  “Good,” Monk returned, studying them both at length. Then his attention was pulled to the door expectantly.

  When Point entered the room the tension seemed to evaporate from Rush’s countenance. He smiled and bounded out of his chair to awkwardly come to her side and grab her arm, helping her as she ambled slowly toward them.

  Jackson’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t have been more surprised to see Rush tripping over himself to assist the lumbering Point. He had even beaten the excited father to her side. He realized quickly that it was the first time he had ever seen his brother in the presence of a pregnant woman.

  “Are you sure you’re only eight months, Point? You look like you’re ready to pop any minute now,” Rush teased as Point eased herself into her seat. Monk stood to help but she waved him off.

  “I know,” she said and continued blushing. “But, I can’t be any further along.”

  “You look amazing!” Rush said, astounding each of the other men at the table. While it was true that Point smiled more every day and her skin, the color of strong tea, shined, they couldn’t figure out why Rush noticed.

  Once she was settled in her chair, she looked directly down at her plate. She was still uncomfortable around Rush. She was too awed by him. That led to vulnerability and she was not a person comfortable with vulnerability in anyone, let alone herself. But, Jackson noticed, there was something new.

  Then Jackson felt the Energy that signaled Bright Star. He could always feel her. He looked up and there she was. She wore a long white dress that moved seductively around her body. Unbidden, the image of a naked Bright Star slipped into his mind. His mouth went dry. Internally, he cursed himself for the desire he felt, but it didn’t help. Mercifully, he was distracted by the frown that creased her brow and pursed her lips. She seemed to be concentrating. As she neared them, it became obvious that she was looking at Point.

  Absently, she greeted the table, sparing a moment to bow her head in Rush’s direction. But her attention went right back to the pregnant woman who had been her right hand for so many months.

  Point did not return the regard. But Bright Star couldn’t seem to pry her eyes away from her, or rather her protruding belly. Bright Star’s glowing eyes were narrowed and focused on Point’s tummy. Blue light scanned up and down the belly as if it was x-raying and evaluating the growing life inside. More than once, Jackson had noticed Bright Star’s hands rising, testing the air, preparing to reach out to Point, but each time she managed to still them.

  Even Jackson had to admit it was unsettling.
Bright Star was still watching the mound like she could see inside it. Her mouth worked subtly, saying a soft incantation or talking to the little one inside but wanted no one else to know. Her eyes were predatory. Jackson had the disturbing image of a female jackal—the most vicious sort—licking her chops. He shook his head to clear it. He still could not read her.

  “She’s coming along well, isn’t she?” Bright Star asked Jackson directly as if she knew the direction of his thoughts. Her eyes never lifted to him.

  “I don’t know,” Jackson answered truthfully. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

  Bright Star dismissed him as easily as she had started speaking to him. “Rush,” she leveled her gaze at his brother. “Don’t you think she’s coming along well?”

  “Absolutely,” Rush remarked with a supportive squeeze to Point’s arm. “The baby is strong and beautiful. She will grow to be more special than you can know.”

  “Yes,” Bright Star said absently. “Very special. The baby is very special. Very special. Domina.”

  “Are you going to eat?” Jackson asked her in hopes of changing the mood of the eerie conversation.

  “I’m not hungry,” she responded, though her eyes were still predatory, and clearly, clearly she wanted something.

  “I think you should eat,” Jackson returned, trying not to be put off. “You haven’t been eating.” She stared at him blankly. “You haven’t,” he insisted. “I’ve watched you. You’re losing weight too quickly and I know I haven’t seen you eat in a week.”

  “That’s right,” she agreed, nodding. “I’m not eating.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m fasting,” she answered with a frail shrug. Jackson was reminded of aged paper, brittle, flaking… losing its important meeting with the unstoppable wave of time.

  “Again, I ask why.”

  “I have asked a question, and I am awaiting the answer.” Her voice had gone thin and reedy.

  “As if that should make sense,” Jackson stated rolling his eyes.

  “Don’t make fun of me,” she told him.

  Jackson turned away from her and addressed Monk. “Is fasting some new part of your self-made religion we haven’t heard about to this point?”

  Monk didn’t respond. Instead, he was studying Bright Star. She watched him closely as well with a near hunger in the set to her jaw. Jackson perceived there was a non-verbal exchange between the two of them, but they barred his mental eavesdropping. Whatever the exchange, neither of them appeared pleased about it.

  Jackson then remembered his reason for being there. Rush had challenged him to look inside of her. Rush wanted him to prove he didn’t need to be protected from this truth that everyone else seemed to know. He swallowed. He swallowed again. He slowed his breathing. He started to count. When he was able, he slowed his heart rate. He looked at her.

  He was stunned to realize that she was already looking at him. Her blue eyes flickered light at him and the side of her upper lip curled aggressively. Jackson pushed back in his seat. He expected to hear his startled heart to be racing, but he quickly noticed that it wasn’t. Instead, he found that he was still reaching out to her mind. He tried to stop as her eyes continued to heat up and a low groan came from her lips. Jackson started to see himself out of his body and realized he was in her mind, seeing her thoughts. He tried to pull back again, but couldn’t. Someone was holding him anchored there. He couldn’t tell whether it was Rush or Bright Star herself.

  He saw himself and he saw Monk and Point. When the vision shifted to Point, her face was blanked out. It was almost as if her face was blurred, just beyond his reach, but he knew that it wasn’t there. Instead, everything about the woman was dim save for a piercing, silvery blue light in her abdomen. Rush’s mouth dropped open. And then, then he saw Rush. All went black.

  Prophecy

  Bright Star sought Monk out in the temple. He treated the large, ornate room as his home now. He’d explained to any who would listen that he’d only done so because of the space it afforded him in the crowded palace. Bright Star argued each time that he had only accepted his fate as spiritual leader.

  When she found him, she let him guide her into an alcove behind the altar. “What is it, Bright Star?”

  He sounded exhausted. Bright Star didn’t doubt that he was. Point had been sleepless the last two weeks.

  “I’ve come for guidance.”

  “What kind of guidance could I possibly provide you?”

  “I am at a loss, Monk. I don’t know what more I can do to get Rush to accept his fate. He’s fought me since the beginning. I thought he would stop, but he hasn’t. And now, now he’s cursed me.”

  “Cursed you? Come on, Bright Star. There is no such thing as a curse.” But there was. In his world it was called the determinism principle which stated that if one knew to an infinite accuracy the state of a system at one point in time, one could predict the state of that system with infinite accuracy at any other time, past or future. Physics. Parameters of Shift 101. He couldn’t, but a better Shifter could pick any time, good or bad, to rattle off to another. Nothing that Bright Star would ever fall for. She knew the present perfectly, as Rush did.

  “I’m cursed!” Bright Star spat angrily, contradicting his thoughts. Her eyes flashed blue fire at him. She brought her hands up to cover her tummy.

  Monk’s eyes widened. “You’re pregnant.”

  “No,” she wailed and rocked back and forth as tears started in her eyes.

  “You wanted to get pregnant, but you can’t?” Her reply came in the form of a weak nod. Monk wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but realized the dangers that would bring.

  “Now it seems I’ve lost my way.” Bright Star moaned. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Maybe you should do nothing,” Monk offered cautiously.

  Bright Star only stared blankly at him.

  “Yes, Bright Star,” he pressed on. “Do nothing. Maybe you should meditate. Breathe. Wait for him to come to you.”

  “I can’t do that,” she declared vehemently. She shook her head. “I won’t do that. We’ve already wasted too much time. No. Today is the day. There will not be any waiting. I need to know now what will change him.”

  “That, I do not know,” Monk shook his head wistfully.

  “But I believe you do,” Bright Star challenged.

  Monk’s eyes bucked but he remained silent. She knew he was different. He could only hope that she didn’t know why.

  “Touch me,” Bright Star prodded.

  “No,” Monk refused.

  “Touch me.” This time it was a demand. She started to ease closer to him, gliding in the air. Her eyes never left his. “I know he’s helping you keep me out. But you can’t keep me out if you touch me. You have to do it. I know you will be able to tell what path I must take now. I am at a loss. I truly don’t know what I must do to get him to realize his potential, to take the mantle of leadership.

  “Then search harder inside yourself. Maybe you should go back to that island. Maybe—”

  “I will go back, Monk.” She assured him in a shrill, fragile voice, “Just not now. I won’t go back until I can deliver on the promise I made to those people. I won’t go back until I can prove who I am, who he is. I have to give him back to them. I must.”

  “I won’t help you.”

  “Helping me is not a betrayal, Monk. We believe in the same thing, you and I. Help me.”

  When Bright Star realized the man would only continue to refuse, she decided to take the matter into her own hands. Literally. With preternatural force and speed, Bright Star grasped the monk’s hands in her own. She flew backward with the force of the Energy that jolted from his body into her own. It arced and cracked and caused her skin to contract all over.

  She was dazed for a moment only before Monk turned and ran from the room. She dashed out behind him.

  Death of the Holy

  “Do you remember anything?” Rush questioned. He sat in a chair ne
ar Jackson’s bed where he had been lying for two hours.

  “I’m not sure,” Jackson hedged groggily. “I don’t know what’s a dream and what’s not.”

  “Let’s assume that none of it is a dream.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  “A couple of hours. How do you feel?”

  “I feel like I’ve been hit with more Perma-Shift than any one person can take at a time.”

  “That would be an appropriate assessment. The only reason you aren’t dead is because of your ‘special’ Talents.” Rush put down the book that had been in his lap. “What did you see?”

  “I saw the baby,” Jackson answered finally.

  Surprisingly, Rush grinned. “You saw her?”

  Jackson nodded.

  “She’s wonderful, isn’t she?” Rush asked beaming.

  Jackson recalled that light. He nodded again in agreement. “I saw you, too.”

  Rush bowed his head. He seemed tired. He always seemed tired lately. “I know. That’s when you blacked out.”

  “I don’t remember what I saw,” Jackson stated. “I just know that after the baby, came you.”

  “You didn’t see anyone else?” Rush frowned.

  Jackson shook his head. “No.”

  Rush squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Then he asked, “You didn’t see what she was planning?” The question was asked with hesitance.

  “Bright Star?” Jackson raised his eyebrows. “No, I didn’t.” The voice was tentative. There was more.

  “What else did you see, Jacks?”

  “Nothing more than what I said. But I felt… I felt so much pain. I have never felt pain like what I felt. I don’t know what caused me to black out, if it was that piercing, sharp, throbbing ache or…”

  “Or me?” Rush gave a humorless smile.

  “Yeah,” Jackson admitted slowly, “Or you.” Rush’s face was expressionless. “But… I don’t think it was you.”

  There was a light, an indefinable flicker in Rush’s black eyes. Jackson sensed that the flicker had been relief. “You don’t?”