Etheria (The Halo Series Book 1)

by Melody Robinette

  Then Sev began a monotonous monologue about the types of bones and fossils he worked with at the museum, while Gray pretended to listen with glazed over eyes. His mind moseyed back to Aurora, as it had quite frequently, ever since she’d left him on the elevator. He wondered if she was fairing okay without him.

  Ha. She was probably better off.

  AURORA

  “One cherry cider. Enjoy.”

  Aurora took the steaming cup from the vendor and inhaled deeply, the scent of cherries and vanilla filling her airway. She’d been tempted to buy a sugarcloud as Samuel had suggested, but was too stubborn to take the advice of an arrogant asshole who thought he knew everything about everyone. Strolling towards the back of the ship, Aurora passed a massive chocolate fountain where people were converged, holding marshmallows and strawberries beneath the flowing edible waterfall, laughing with unsuppressed delight.

  Aurora felt like she’d been dropped in the middle of a circus or theme park. People in elaborate costumes wove through the crowds, tossing candy and confetti in the air. Fire throwers and sword swallowers performed within circles of cheering people. She even passed a shimmering purple tent with a sign advertising the Mystical Madame Mauve, who she assumed was a fortune teller or palm reader or some other sort of whack job.

  Shops of all kinds lined the middle of the ship, which was set up like a town square complete with trees and flowers. Aurora admired a sapphire ring in the jewelry shop window, though she knew it probably cost more than her whole year’s income, so she continued on.

  Past the middle of the ship were more carnival style rides, food vendors, and the double-decker carousel mentioned by the people in the elevator. The two levels revolved, languidly, in opposite directions. Intricately carved animals— unicorns, gryphons, and dragons—were attached to swirling gold poles. Aurora stopped walking, doing a double take. Carousels, on their own, weren't all that impressive, but this was no ordinary carousel. The carved animals moved independently. Unicorns stomped heavy hooves and elephants curled their trunks as people climbed onto them looking slightly wary. Surely it was just some sort of advanced technology or something. Animatronics. Robots.

  Shaking her head, Aurora walked on, trying to convince herself she wasn’t insane with increasing difficulty. She walked until she reached the back of the ship where she found an oversized wooden swing set, facing out towards the ocean. It struck Aurora as odd that, on a ship full of so many people, no one would occupy the stern. But, then again, a wooden swing set was hardly impressive compared to everything else she’d seen. To an introvert like her, it was a haven.

  Relishing the solitude, Aurora settled into one of the swings and felt the tension in her muscles ease away. Sipping her cherry cider and looking out at the harbor, she finally let the realization of everything that had transpired that day sink in. She was no longer in Seattle. She was no longer on land. She was no longer in the real world, but in a fantasyland where ships had roller coasters, carousel animals moved, as if they were real, and everyone knew her name. A breeze blew through her hair, and she closed her eyes, breathing in the crisp ocean air.

  Suddenly a familiar voice shattered her silence.

  “Well, if it isn’t the lone wolf.”

  GRAY

  Gray’s chest cavity filled with air when he saw her. Golden curls riding the wind. Eyes closed. Clutching a black cup in her pale hands. Tendrils of steam escaped from the lid and floated up to her face, caressing her skin. He almost felt as though he was intruding on something truly private. Aurora's features were smooth. Soft. No trace of sarcasm or defensiveness. For the first time since they’d met, she looked truly…peaceful. Perhaps, because she no longer had to keep those indissoluble walls built up to block everyone out.

  Finally, almost regretfully, he spoke. “Well, if it isn’t the lone wolf.”

  She jumped, nearly spilling her mug of hot cherry cider all over her white pants before whipping around to look at him. Her expression was that of surprise and—surely, he imagined it—relief.

  “Gray,” she breathed, and his senses tingled at the sound of his name in her mouth.

  He smiled in spite of himself. “This ship has a roller coaster, countless rides, water slides, and a carousel with animals that move, and you choose the stationary wooden swings at the back of the ship.”

  “Yeah, well. There’s no one to annoy me over here. Or, at least, there wasn’t.”

  And there she went. Building those walls back up with expert speed and precision, sealing any and all cracks, so they were completely impenetrable. Gray sighed and moved to sit on the swing beside her.

  “Glad to see you, too,” he said, kicking off the ground.

  “Sorry…” she said, doing the same, so they were swinging back and forth like opposing pendulums. As she went forward, Gray went backward. “So, guess who my roommate is.”

  “A dinosaur?” he guessed.

  Aurora snorted. “I wish. But no. You’ve actually met her.”

  He thought for a moment and then let out a bark of laughter. “Brielle?”

  Aurora nodded with a look of distaste, and Gray laughed even louder.

  “Um, it’s not even kind of funny,” Aurora said seriously. “I have to sleep in the same room with her. The only thing separating us is two end tables. I mean, I’m gravely concerned about my sanity—stop laughing!” she exclaimed—because Gray was now doubled over, shaking with the force of his amusement.

  He composed himself, sitting upright, and putting on a serious face. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That’s just…terrible.”

  Aurora rolled her eyes at him, but he thought he could distinguish the smallest amount of humor there. “I hate you. What time is it?”

  Gray glanced at his watch. “6:45.”

  “Should we just stay here for the departure celebration?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

  “I have a better idea,” Gray said with a sly smile, eliciting a wary sideways glance from Aurora.

  AURORA

  “This was a horrible idea.” Aurora slid down in the Ferris wheel seat like melting butter.

  He chuckled. “So, I’m guessing your fear of airplanes is a result of your apparent fear of heights?”

  “I’m not afraid,” Aurora grumbled. She was lying, of course. She was utterly petrified.

  Gray looked over and down at her with a lopsided grin. "Then why are you sitting like that?"

  “It’s more comfortable,” she said, her words muffled because her chin was nearly touching her chest.

  “Yeah, it looks it.”

  “Is it seven yet?” Aurora grabbed Gray’s wrist, looking at his watch. With the touch of their skin, she felt a sense of calm encompass her, as it had on the plane when she’d grasped his hand during takeoff.

  She noticed Gray’s breath catch and imagined he must’ve felt something similar…which wasn’t good. Not in her mind, at least.

  But she was torn between wanting comfort and retaining her pride. So, she settled for resting her arm, ever so slightly, against his. This was somehow enough to satisfy the uneasiness that the height of the Ferris wheel brought on, without making her seem like she was consciously touching him. Gradually, her rapid breathing evened out. Her trembling hands grew still. Her heart rate slowed. She hated that she had to depend on physical contact with Gray to calm her down when she should’ve been able to do so on her own. It didn’t escape her notice that this was the first time skin contact with a guy ever made her more comfortable.

  Darkness had yet to set in completely, but the sun had already sunk beneath the horizon, the pale blue and purple of civil twilight lighting the sky. The Ferris wheel moved slowly and steadily upward, and they were now at the top looking out over the ship. The smell of apples and caramel wafted up through the air. Shouts of giddy delight and excitement mingled with music and popping confetti.

  And, for the moment, Aurora pretended she was just an ordinary girl without a messed up past or a guard built up. She imagined an alte
rnate life where someone like Gray could see her for who she was and…maybe even love her for it.

  No.

  She scolded herself, shaking her head clear of these foolish fantasies. She couldn’t wish away her past, no matter how bad she wanted to.

  All of a sudden the sound of trumpets erupted around them and Aurora jumped, grabbing Gray’s arm again.

  He laughed. “It’s just signaling that the ship is pulling away from the dock, Aurora.”

  She pulled her hand back and crossed her arms. “I know that, Grayson. It was just effing loud.”

  The Ferris wheel continued to turn as the ship slowly left the harbor and moved out to sea with no notice from the people in the port. Their departure was the exact opposite from all the pictures and videos she’d ever seen. People on the docks waving handkerchiefs, presumably shouting goodbyes. Like the Titanic. Great, let’s think about the Titanic while your ship is sailing through the icy sea, Aurora thought. Full of freaking icebergs.

  Aurora felt Gray’s eyes on her. She turned to him, taking in each detail of his face, from the gold specks in his irises, down to the small white scar slicing through his top lip. She wanted to look away but found herself strangely transfixed. His hazel eyes slid from hers slowly down to her mouth where they rested for what felt like an eternity.

  His eyes moved back up to hers. An expression of restraint and resilience crossed his face. And, suddenly, he reached over to clasp Aurora's hand, squeezing in a reassuring way before turning away to watch the progression of the ship.

  Disappointment and relief battled against one another. She should pull her hand away, she knew. She should tell him to back off.

  But she didn’t.

  Eleven

  AURORA

  Darkness had completely fallen, and Etheria was now lit up like a firefly in the tar colored sky. Aurora’s body relaxed as their seat on the Ferris wheel came to a halt, and they hopped off of the ride.

  Gray checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes till dinner. Are you going to change?”

  Aurora glanced down at her white skinny jeans and black peplum top. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “Nothing… I just figured most girls like to—”

  “Well, I’m not ‘most girls.’”

  Gray made an amused face, indicating he fully agreed with this statement.

  “Which restaurant were you assigned to?” he asked, clearly trying to move away from this topic.

  “Glimmering Grotto.”

  “What table?”

  “Forty-seven. Same as Brielle,” she grumbled. The corner of Gray’s mouth turned up, and Aurora shot him a curious look. “What…?”

  “Looks like you’re going to have a difficult time getting rid of me.”

  “Why’s that?” said Aurora.

  Gray jabbed a thumb towards his chest. “Table forty-seven.”

  Aurora rolled her eyes. “Great.” But, as she turned away from him, her mouth lifted into a reluctant smile.

  Glimmering Grotto was nestled on the floor below the library in a secluded corner of the ship. A twinkling, blue light illuminated the passage leading to the restaurant. The walls and ceiling had been designed to look like mossy rock. Swirls of blue and splashes of white made up the floor, which appeared to be moving, ever so slightly, as Aurora walked over it. If she hadn’t been seasick before, she was now.

  The entrance to the dining room yawned open like the mouth of a cave. A man decked all in white stood beneath the threshold. His attire was identical to Michael's, with his white suit and bowtie, except his nameplate said Orion.

  “Aurora. Grayson,” Orion greeted, his white smile made even brighter by the contrast of his dark skin. “Good evening.”

  No matter how many instances this happened, Aurora didn't think she would ever grow used to strangers knowing her name.

  Gray’s eyebrows met. “Evening…”

  “Anther will escort you to your table.” Orion waved a hand at a beaming, ginger-haired boy who looked no older than twelve.

  “Right this way,” Anther chirped brightly.

  They followed the cheerful youth into the depths of the cavernous restaurant. Aurora had assumed the name Glimmering Grotto was just a clever alliteration, but it appeared to be quite literal in its description. Glimmering Grotto was, in fact, just that—a magnificent rocky cave with a floor reminiscent of water, lit by an ethereal glow emanating from beneath, traveling up the glistening walls.

  Anther led them to a round table near the stone wall. A thin stream of water trickled down the mossy rocks, impossibly disappearing into the solid floor. Three people occupied their table: Brielle, and two young men—one wearing a purple vest and a yellow bowtie, and the other sporting shoulder-length black hair. Aurora and Gray took two of the three remaining seats, and Anther wished them “happy dining” before bouncing back to the entrance.

  “Gray!” Brielle exclaimed in a pitch just below that which only dogs could hear. “So happy to see you again!”

  Aurora flinched away from the deafening decibel of Brielle’s voice and turned to survey the others at the table while Gray humored the ditz. Beside her sat the young man wearing the purple vest and yellow bowtie. His strawberry blond hair was combed neatly to the side, and thick lashes framed his yellow eyes. He looked particularly relieved to see Aurora and Gray, likely because Brielle was already causing him to contemplate running himself through with the butter knife.

  Seated on the other side of the guy in the purple vest was the young man with shoulder-length black hair. Aurora heard Gray ask him something about leaving his anthology of encyclopedias in their room, so she assumed they must have previously met.

  Gray soon confirmed her suspicions. “Aurora, this is my roommate, Sevastion.”

  The stranger with the even stranger name stood, extending a hand in her direction.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” he said in a thick accent—probably British.

  “Sebastian? Like, the crab from that mermaid movie?” said Aurora, earning a perplexed look from the Brit.

  “Sevvvastian. With a V,” he clarified, and after a moment added, “You can call me Sev if you’d like.”

  “Don’t mind her,” Gray said. “She has name issues.”

  Aurora shrugged. “I just don’t know what ever happened to parents naming their children normal things, is all.”

  “How do you define normal?” Sev asked her simply.

  She opened her mouth to respond, but then an airy, familiar voice spoke from behind her. "Might I interject? The name Aurora may sound simple enough, but if you look at its meaning, you may feel otherwise.”

  Twisting around in her seat, Aurora’s eyes landed on Samuel, the young blond she’d met in the elevator. The one who both intrigued and unnerved her. She arched an eyebrow at him as he took the open seat beside her. Gray looked from Samuel to Aurora with a quizzical expression.

  With narrowed eyes, she said, “Well, then? What does the name Aurora mean?”

  “Dawn.”

  “What’s so bad about that?” she asked.

  “Not bad, particularly. Just interesting, that’s all.”

  “Why is it interesting?” she said with increasing impatience.

  “Well, Lucifer was once known as “Son of Aurora,” among several other names. It was conceived that the Morning Star was born from the dawn. Lucifer translates to Morning Star in Latin. So, in essence, that would technically make Aurora—”

  “The mother of Lucifer?” Aurora cut in dryly. “That explains the hollow spot in my chest where my heart should be, I suppose.”

  Gray snorted at this. Samuel merely smirked.

  Brielle piped up then, clearly feeling left out of the conversation. “What does Brielle mean?”

  Samuel regarded her for only a moment, amusement evident in his features. “God is my might.”

  Her eyes widened considerably. “That is, like, so dead on. Do everyone’s!”

  “My name is pretty self-expla
natory,” the guy in the purple vest said.

  “What is it?” Brielle asked.

  “Chord.”

  “Yes, and I am almost certain my name is a fabrication of my parents’ imagination,” Sev stated.

  “I’m sure mine is something exceptionally depressing,” Gray added.

  Brielle waved a dismissive hand. “Aw, y’all are no fun.”

  Aurora was taken aback when none of the others found it strange that Samuel just happened to know the meaning of all of their names. Were they just that slow, or was she simply too untrusting?

  Before Aurora could dwell any longer on this, a cheerful waitress named Juniper, who was now passing around their menus, interrupted her thoughts. A range of delicacies covered the menu; some Aurora had never tasted before—others she'd never even heard of before.

  Once the others had ordered, everyone settled into discussing their life stories. Aurora listened in silence between sips of cider and mouthfuls of creamy truffle soup.

  Shockingly enough, Brielle dominated most of the conversation, droning on about Texas and how amazingly awesome it was, and about her parents, her church, and her Chihuahua named Princess.

  Scanning the expressions of the others, Aurora was pleased to find she was not the only one less than interested in Brielle’s incessant ramblings. Sev’s eyes scanned the room, studying the details of the ceiling, the glowing floor, the glistening walls. Chord stared, unfocused, at the butter dish, his mind clearly far away from Texas. When Aurora glanced at Gray, his eyes flickered to her, as if he could feel her gaze on him. Their gaze locked, and he smirked, amused by her distaste in Brielle’s dinner conversation topics.

  Their main courses arrived, and Brielle managed to shut up long enough to eat her salmon salad. Meanwhile, Aurora stuffed her mouth full of mushroom risotto with butter poached lobster, forgetting about Brielle entirely as the delicate meat burst in her mouth.

  “Holy bejesus,” Chord said through a mouthful of roast lamb. “This is fucking orgasmic.”