The Stars Wait Not

by Anne Wheeler

  “Good morning, sir.”

  “Good morning, Lieutenant.” Dahl sounded all too cheerful for someone who’d have to have been up before sunset to make a flight to the Kebnekaise Mountains. “Where’s your slave?”

  Kresten swore to himself. “In the garden around the side of the house, I believe. This way, sir.”

  He led Dahl, Ahlund, and one of the guards through the house, the long way to the Ryllis’s new garden. It would give Lina time to calm her, and more importantly, would give him time to come up with a reason they had to let him keep her here. Because the Eradication Council gave her to me suddenly sounded more reversible that it was supposed to be.

  Lina headed them off the kitchen, pale. “Your Highness—” She slammed her mouth shut when she noticed the rest of the group.

  “Well, what is it?” Kresten asked. Panic had always made him rude.

  “She’s not in the garden. And I—”

  “You what?” Dahl broke in.

  “I can’t find her anywhere.” Lina’s eyes flickered from him to Dahl, as if in apology.

  Ahlund swore and pointed the guard toward the rear door and the garden, while he took off down the left corridor, toward the bedrooms. Doors hissed and slammed in the background; Ahlund was rapid and efficient as he searched. Kresten’s knees grew weak.

  “How could you let this happen?” Dahl asked him. “You actually lost her?”

  “Sir, with all due respect, no one watches their slaves every second. She has her own duties, and I don’t need to watch her.” Dahl had to know that. “I’m sure she’s here. Probably somewhere else on the grounds. But why—”

  Dahl shot a sharp glance at Lina. “Go home. If she’s there, send her back here.” He guided Kresten on to the back deck, in private. “New intel arrived from Cereth two days ago,” he said quietly. “She’s part of that resistance group that planned the attack on the emperor and empress six solar cycles ago—she wasn’t involved in that particular assault, it sounds like, but we’re not sure what she’s been up to since. We’re lucky we got her first.”

  “The attack at the transport authority building in Therus?” His gut twisted. His parents had escaped by minutes. “Says who?”

  “The regional governor.”

  “Her father?” By the stars, his neck was aching, his muscles tense.

  Dahl nodded. “I’m sure you’ve enjoyed having a slave, but you’ll have to find another, because Amaryllis Camden is back in Fleet custody for now—at least until the Eradication Council can be given accurate and complete information about her crimes. I suspect they’ll agree her sentence was too light.”

  Too light? Slavery was too light? Hot rage and something more fearful and visceral filled the kitchen, almost tangible, like it’d sucked the air from the room. Kresten pushed it away. They couldn’t take her. He wouldn’t allow it. Wouldn’t allow them to torture her and imprison her and then, when they’d made their point, execute her.

  “Sir, you know he’s got it in for her,” he said. “Why has he been so bent on proving his daughter a traitor? Doesn’t that strike you the least bit strange? I hardly think we can consider him a reliable corroborator.”

  “He knows where his loyalty lies. Can you imagine his fate if we found out he was hiding information like this?”

  “Still, sir, I—”

  Ahlund rushed back in. “She’s gone. Not outside, not in the house. Lieutenant?”

  “I—Captain, she was outside.” That palpable rage and fear was compressing him now. Maybe Dahl was right. Ryllis would have seen the shuttle from the garden. Maybe she’d known. Or panicked.

  Perhaps she’d taken it as an opportunity.

  “She escaped,” Ahlund said. “Just as we arrived—that’s a rather strange coincidence, don’t you think, Lieutenant?”

  “Excuse me?” He was living in some parallel universe where nothing made sense. “What are you saying?”

  “Where are you hiding her?” Dahl asked.

  “Hiding her? I’m not—” No, this wasn’t a parallel universe. It was a strange nightmare brought on by stress. A hallucination. Had Vidar poisoned the vodka? “You’re crazy. All of you. She’s not a rebel assassin, and she hasn’t escaped because I warned her you were coming.”

  “Give us the truth. Now,” Ahlund said. “And this will be easier on you.”

  “What will be easier on me?”

  Dahl jerked his head at the guard, and before Kresten could strategize a suitable response, they’d yanked his hands behind his back. He bit back a torrent of profanity as Ahlund and the guard handcuffed him and pulled him toward the door. Cursing would come later. Much later. Now he needed to keep calm. Not antagonize them. Figure out just what was going on here.

  “Take him to the shuttle,” Dahl said to Ahlund. “Then start searching those hills. Don’t stop until you find her. Alive. I’ve got some questions for her, and she won’t escape them this time.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ryllis lifted her head from the damp ground. The shuttle had been parked in front of the house for almost half an hour now, and a few Vilarians in uniforms were still prowling the side garden where she’d been working not an hour before. Luck was such a nebulous, fanciful thing, but it had been on her side—she’d made it out just in time.

  It hadn’t been an easy decision. The feel of Kresten’s body was never far from her mind as she checked the small kit of belongings she’d managed to scrounge: some thread, a fire starter, a small flashlight, and a package of water purification tablets. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t give her a lot of time, but it was enough to let her hide in the cave and think about her next move. Kresten would find her there if she tarried, but she needed time and space to collect her thoughts.

  I don’t want to die a slave.

  If only the Vilarians would leave. The cold from the spring earth was seeping through her clothing now, but it was too risky to stand and resume her walk up the meadow—they’d see her movement immediately, especially if Kresten had notified them she was missing. She dragged her fingers through the mud and wiped them on her leggings, running through her limited options. If they headed this way, she might not have a choice but to return with them. And then what? Would they remove her from Kresten’s household? They certainly weren’t up in the mountains for a social visit, especially since Lina had passed by her on the trail a while back. Thankfully, the weeds were high, and she hadn’t seen anything amiss.

  She squinted down the hill at the small group exiting the front door of the house. It was so hard to see from this far away, but she could still recognize the undershirt Kresten had been wearing that morning. He was in front, two men in Fleet uniforms behind him, and the way they were moving, shoving him forward every time he turned around to speak—Ryllis stifled a gasp. After the Fleet had dragged her out of her father’s house at gunpoint, there was no mistaking the meaning of the situation.

  They’d arrested Kresten.

  But for what? Was that even allowed? Surely his status as a member of the royal family gave him protection—but it appeared it did not. For as he turned back and said something to the two strange Fleet officers one last time, and they pushed him onto the shuttle, she could see their weapons, both pistols and shock sticks, and how Kresten’s hands were cuffed behind his back. She wanted to run down the meadow and scream at them to release him, but her legs had gone oddly weak and her throat strangely tight.

  It was just as well. Wasn’t this what she wanted? For Kresten to be gone and for her to be free? Vilaria was huge. She could flee the mountains, grow out her hair, and, somehow, disappear into society. Maybe even find work that would allow her to buy passage back to Cereth. That had always been her plan, and with Kresten out of the picture, it would be even easier. The Fleet would be looking for her for a while, but they’d eventually decide she’d fallen off one of the numerous cliffs out in these hills. She wasn’t important enough for them to search for her body for more than a few lunar cycles.

&nbs
p; She closed her eyes. It was too hard to forget how his lips had felt against hers, the things he’d said, and the way he’d shown her compassion, from the very first day. Prickles rose up on her skin as she remembered the way he’d looked at her in the gray dress, and it wasn’t from the chill of the meadow breeze that time—he’d done something to her. Even with his lie about who he really was, she couldn’t forget the parts of him that she did know, and that made the lie so much easier to accept. Everyone made mistakes. Weren’t his forgivable?

  He was gone now, yes, and she was freer than she’d been in many lunar cycles, but was that what she wanted? It’d been the obvious choice this morning when she’d woken up a slave in his bedroom, but now it was impossible to shake the concern in her heart. Her brain argued that escape was the only logical option, but her soul screamed for his. Was there a solution? She needed to be free, but she needed him as well.

  As the shuttle screeched into the sky, Ryllis plucked a few blooms from beside her and headed up the hill.

  The cavern was a hundred paces after the vein of granite, Kresten had said.

  Except paces wasn’t the right word. He’d been mistaken about that. Ryllis pressed her body even further into the cave floor as the ceiling lowered. It wasn’t touching her back yet, but she said a silent thanks to the Light that she wasn’t claustrophobic. As she’d stood in the entrance, trying to shake the feel of his lips on hers and the memory of his adoring words, she’d never expected the passageway to become this narrow. But then, perhaps, that was why Lina had never found him back here.

  Fifty-two.

  A sharp piece of stone jabbed into her back, and she froze, biting back a curse. Kresten was almost twice her size—how had he fit through here? Cautiously, she shifted her body to the side and managed to make it by without stabbing herself further. Water dripping on the back of her neck, like it had on Kresten’s just before she’d brushed it off and he’d taken her in his arms.

  Forget him.

  Just for now.

  Eighty-six.

  A breeze blew across the top of her head, and she breathed a little easier as the darkness became less oppressive. Rolling to her side for a breath, she flicked on the lighter. It didn’t reach far into the opening of the cavern, but she could see enough that she chanced crawling the rest of the way on her knees. If the Fleet did show up, they’d struggle to get to her. Just the idea of a squad of armed men fighting their way past that low ceiling raised her spirits.

  Once she was certain of not smashing her skull, she stood and turned on the lighter all the way. It didn’t take long to make a full circle of the cavern. The walls were smooth, and except for a small pool on the far side, contained by a low ledge, so was the floor. A few large boulders were scattered around, fallen from the ceiling many hundreds of solar cycles ago, no doubt, and she wished they could conceal her completely if the Fleet arrived. The source of the pool must have been an underground river somewhere below, because a soft rushing filled her ears when she held her breath.

  The cans of water Kresten had left in some other life were stacked up beside a large boulder to the right of the entrance. A few were empty, but with the pool and the water purification tablets, hydration wouldn’t be an issue. Food was another matter, but the new moon was only a few days away, and with any luck, she could sneak out and find something in the darkness. She stuck the flowers in one of the empty cans and set it on the ledge of the pool.

  “I wish you were here with me.” Her desire echoed against the walls, and she waited for a response that never came. “I miss your smile. I miss the way you brushed my fingers with yours, and I miss the way you held me, and I miss the way you pretended not to understand why I shivered when you touched my cheek.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered, though the cave was warm.

  “I don’t know how you expected me to react when you told me. I’m sorry I handled it so poorly, but I think I did the best I could. I’d almost let myself forget how we met, and it was a shock to be reminded of it.”

  The memory had become hazy since she’d arrived on Vilaria, but not hazy enough to forget. Five or six days into her imprisonment, after a brutally long interview, the guard had walked her outside, and she’d braced herself for the feel of his hands as he walked her back to her cell. If she was lucky, he’d only grope; if she was unlucky, he’d push her against the wall, grope her, and whisper all sorts of revolting things in her ear.

  That day, she was neither, for Kresten had been leaning against the corridor wall opposite the interrogation room door, his arms folded.

  I’ll take her from here, he’d said, and the guard had blinked, then walked off without any argument. Temporarily freed from his hold, she’d stared at Kresten like a fool, wanting some kind of explanation for this interruption in routine, but he’d merely grabbed her and marched her back to her cell, professionalism personified. For a heartbeat, she’d let herself believe he was a savior come to rescue her, but as the static field buzzed to life and the door slammed shut behind her, she realized what an irrational hope that had been. And as she’d lain on her bunk the rest of the day, she’d decided she hated him. She’d told him as much two days later when he’d returned.

  I don’t give a flying dakk what you think of me. Stand against the wall and put your hands on your head.

  His response rolled around and around in her head, long-forgotten yet now remembered against her will. Had he been lying that first time they’d met, or had he simply changed his mind about her? The flower had appeared under her mattress not a lunar cycle later, so the answer, was obvious. Perhaps it wasn’t affection he’d felt then, or even attraction, but he’d respected her. He’d cared.

  So no, it didn’t matter if he’d hated her at first. He didn’t now, and that was all that mattered. And she loved him in return. She repeated it over and over to herself as she paced the cavern, finally stopping by the pool for a drink. She downed an entire can before she noticed the flower. Ripped away from both the sun and her proximity, the petals had already started to wilt.

  Ryllis sank to the cavern floor next to them, closed her eyes, and began to cry.

  It was impossible to tell how long she’d been in the cave, though the growling of her stomach and the drastic improvement in the flower’s health gave her some idea. The new moon had been just a few days away the last night she’d spent in Kresten’s home, so even if it wasn’t quite gone, it should be dark enough outside for the forest to hide her. Without even knowing if the sun was showing or not, Ryllis slipped back out the narrow passageway and toward the cave entrance with the blooms behind her ear.

  It was an easier crawl out, though that might have been desperation from the hunger. Kresten’s house was likely alarmed, or worse, guarded, but there was enough food in the forest she could scavenge for a small meal. And when Lina and Aared made a trip to town? She’d sneak into their house for more supplies.

  Only a dim sliver of moonlight shone through the trees when she reached the entrance, and as carefully as she could, Ryllis picked her way through the rocks to the trail. Faster than she’d expected, her eyes adjusted, and she breathed in the deep scent of pine. She’d missed it, deep in the cavern, and reached up for one of the lower boughs. It wouldn’t cover up the entire damp scent of the cave, but it would be something fresh and clean. She tossed it inside the entrance to take with her on her way back.

  Her footsteps were scarcely audible over the sounds of the forest at night. Birds chirped, wolves howled, and the wind—was there a storm coming or was it always this loud? She could scarcely hear herself think, and her heartbeat, which had kept her company in the echoing cavern, was no longer her companion. Ryllis quickened her pace, and far sooner than she wanted, the lights of the Lina and Aared’s house came into view.

  Eggs would make a decent meal if she could figure out a way to cook them over the fire starter. Ryllis crept closer to the house, staying just off the trail. The hens would be in their own little house or
roosting in the trees above, and they’d seemed to like her—though there was always a chance they wouldn’t be happy with an intruder. No matter. She only needed a few, and she could be in and out before anyone noticed.

  The soft clucking from somewhere near the house gave away her targets. Ryllis followed the sounds toward a small clapboard building set off in a clearing. Some sort of Vilarian anti-predator technology surrounded it, and judging by the noise the hens were making, they knew they were safe, even at night. She wanted to call out to them, get them to stop scratching around on the ground inside, but that idea could easily backfire. Lina would notice if they fell silent, anyway.

  Instead, she felt around the sides of the coop, looking for an opening to the nests. Kresten’s fear of the hens poked about in her mind as she did, and when she tried to laugh at it off, sadness took its place.

  Don’t tell me the chickens love you, too.

  She leaned her head against the coop and took a breath. Kresten would laugh if he saw her here right now, sobbing over him rather than worrying about the chickens. Especially when they were laughing at her, too. She was too distraught to hear what they were saying in her head, but they were talking about her more than to her, that was for certain.

  “You know,” she said to herself, “for someone who managed to escape a situation you didn’t want to be in, you’re awfully upset about missing him.”

  “Escape?” a voice behind her called. “Is that why you’re up here stealing my eggs?”

  The living area was dark. Not even a fire glittered, and Ryllis wrapped the blanket Lina had given her tighter around her chest. She hadn’t been able to touch the tea Aared had made for her, her gut sour and her hands shaky.

  “Now tell us what’s going on,” Lina asked from beside her. “Why aren’t you on the way to Dannerth?”