Magic at Midnight

by Lyssa Chiavari

  ♛

  Galen lay there, day after day, night after night. His mind kept running through images of human expressions—ones he’d stored so he could imitate them but now pictured because he could not. He recalled screams he couldn’t release, tears he couldn’t shed.

  Footsteps padded down the hall outside. At first, Galen thought nothing of them, for many had passed his room without realizing anyone was inside. But then the door swished open, and Vox Jarik entered with a short-haired woman he did not recognize.

  “Quickly!” Jarik gestured at Galen. “You must get rid of him now, before someone sees you here.”

  What? Fear rushed through Galen like an icy waterfall.

  “Are you sure about this?” The woman peered into Galen’s face. “He was a favorite of the Empress. People may notice when he’s gone.”

  Jarik let out a derisive noise. “He’s a broken machine and should be discarded as such. Besides, the Empress won’t miss him when she has me.”

  The icy waterfall grew heavier. Galen wanted to cry out, but he couldn’t even blink.

  The woman’s lips quirked. “How are you doing with her?”

  “Very well.” A cold sneer contorted Jarik’s face. “Ever since I saved her life, she’s been clinging to me like a magnet. I have no doubt she will fall in love with me as planned—if she hasn’t already. It won’t be long before she’ll agree to marry me. And when I am Emperor, I will free Caixing of the alien rabble infesting it. Persuading Daiyu will not be a problem, especially since I’m now her hero.”

  Jarik must have thought that Galen’s mind was as frozen as the rest of him, or else he would never have spoken so frankly. Shock pulsed through Galen. He could never have imagined such deception.

  The woman lifted her chin. “General Drokka will be pleased. I had my doubts when you first proposed staging an attack on the Empress, but it seems to have worked out in our favor.”

  “I needed bold strokes. The little fool was going to replace me with this mechanical abomination.” Jarik pointed at Galen. “Even if the others hadn’t agreed to the assassination attempt, I still would have uploaded the virus to his mind. He was getting in my way.”

  Galen recalled once seeing a nobleman gasp in horror. The memory looped through his head, expressing what he couldn’t.

  Vox Jarik had been plotting against the Empress from the moment he’d arrived at court. He’d planned to charm her with his beauty and his talents, and then convince her to marry him and make him Emperor. And he’d thought he could control her.

  Galen wanted to rise up and defend his Empress. Despite her gentle manner, she was no one’s puppet. Perhaps she had fallen for the Bilin Nightingale’s tricks, but that didn’t make her a fool. Galen wondered if he alone saw her for the intelligent, kind, wise person she really was.

  But what he thought didn’t matter. He didn’t matter.

  He could do nothing as Jarik and the woman seized him by the limbs. He could do nothing as they dragged him down to the palace’s waste disposal center deep underground and left him on a pile of scrap metal. And he could do nothing as robotic claws yanked discarded machinery from the dump and tossed it onto a conveyor belt leading to a fiery pit.

  He could do nothing as they drew closer and closer to him.

  ♛

  A shard of discontent remained lodged in Daiyu’s gut. First, she thought it was the trauma of having faced her death. Then, she thought it was the stress of pretending to be all right. Next, she wondered if it was because she did not love Jarik as everyone thought she did.

  While all these things were true, they did not explain the odd feeling that haunted her. She’d carried it for days, an itch she couldn’t scratch.

  She was in the middle of yet another meeting with her advisors when it hit her.

  Galen. She hadn’t seen him since he’d frozen in the garden. She tried to recall what had become of him, but her memory was a blur. It was as if someone else had inhabited her body, and she’d watched from a distance. Where is he?

  Gripped by abrupt alarm, Daiyu stood. “I’m sorry, but I just recalled that there is an urgent matter I must attend to.”

  She paid no attention to her advisors’ surprised and indignant remarks as she swept out of the room.

  The first place she searched for Galen was in his quarters. When she arrived, she found the spare, silver-walled room empty. It was possible, of course, that he was elsewhere in the palace. Or perhaps he’d decided he wanted to leave after all. But surely he would have said goodbye?

  “What are you doing?” Jarik appeared in the doorway.

  She approached him. “Where’s Galen been? Your quarters are nearby—you must have seen something.”

  Jarik’s expression darkened. “An empress has no need for broken machines.”

  “I have need for people I care about.” Daiyu examined Jarik’s face. He’d never liked Galen, and she got the sense that he’d be glad if the AI Nightingale were gone. She moved to exit the room, but he blocked her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To order a search for Galen.”

  “Forget him, Daiyu.” Jarik gripped her shoulders. “You do not want a false nightingale. Especially when you have a true one at your side.” He leaned down to kiss her.

  She pushed him back. “You do not tell me what I want. I am still Empress, and if you do not get out of my way, I will exercise my authority.”

  Jarik scowled but did not respond.

  Unsure what else to do, Daiyu rushed to her study, grabbed her tablet, and contacted Lao Qiu. The engineer’s wizened face popped up in holographic form before her.

  “Little Yu, why do you look so distressed?”

  “I cannot find Galen, and I was hoping you could help.”

  An hour later, the old woman arrived at the palace, practically tripping over her long dress as she rushed to find the Empress. Since Daiyu had informed everyone at the palace that Lao Qiu was to be given anything she needed, two guards flanked the engineer and ordered everyone else out of her way.

  Daiyu was still in her study, pacing and worrying.

  “Little Yu!” Lao Qiu held up a tablet. “I have traced the signal from Galen’s network link. He is beneath the palace—in the waste disposal center.”

  Daiyu’s jaw dropped. Hot rage, more powerful than anything she’d experienced before, flamed in her chest. Galen would never have gone to that horrible place himself. Someone had tried to destroy him. She turned to the guards. “Shut down the system! Go down there and retrieve Galen immediately! I want him returned safely to me, understand?”

  “Yes, Empress!” The guards rushed to obey.

  Daiyu started to follow them, but Lao Qiu held up a hand.

  “You are the Empress. You have given your orders, and now, you must wait for your guards to fulfill their duties.”

  “But Auntie—”

  “Your word is powerful. They will act as quickly as they can, for their Empress commanded it. Indeed, they will be quicker if they do not need to wait for you.”

  Daiyu realized Lao Qiu was right—as usual. Her parents would have told her the same. So she waited, walking in circles to release some of her agitation. Anger burned in the pit of her stomach, and she longed to know what monster would have thrown Galen away like garbage. Beneath it pooled a deep well of shame for not realizing sooner that he was in trouble. She’d allowed days to slip by without seeing him.

  And yet he was the one she yearned for the most. Without him, her world felt colder, emptier. And once she got him back, she would never let go again.

  ♛

  A blink had never felt so sweet. After spending so long unable to even perform that simple action, Galen cherished the ability.

  He lay on a long sofa in the Empress’ study, where he’d been brought after the guards had retrieved him from the waste disposal center. They’d shut down the system just in time—those claws had been on the verge of seizing him. After they’d brought him to the Empress, Lao
Qiu had gone to work to fix him.

  She’d finally succeeded, and she gave him a fond smile as she helped him sit up. His movements felt stiff after having been still for so long, and yet he relished them.

  The Empress stood behind Lao Qiu, watching him anxiously.

  Smile. That will let her know you’re okay. Though Galen had to remind himself to make the expression, the lift of his lips was entirely genuine. “Empress. It is good to see you.”

  “Who did this to you?” The Empress’ dark gaze crackled. “Did you see?”

  “Yes.” Discomfort twisted through him. He had seen how she cherished Vox Jarik. He glanced at Lao Qiu.

  His creator nodded. “Tell her the truth, even if it is hard to hear.”

  Galen searched his memory for a human expression that might be appropriate for what he was about to share but found none that fit. So when he told the Empress of the plot he’d overheard, he was only able to be himself. He knew his words came out all wrong. His tone was too flat. His face failed to convey the proper surprise or outrage. He forgot to gesticulate.

  But the Empress did not seem to care. When he finished, she gave him a nod. “Thank you, Galen.”

  She turned to her guards and ordered Vox Jarik to be arrested at once. But the Bilin Nightingale must have learned of Galen’s rescue, for no matter how they searched, he was nowhere to be found. Neither was General Drokka. While it was later revealed that the traitorous advisor had used his authority to let the attackers into the garden and had fled in a private starship, Vox Jarik seemed to have vanished into thin air.

  Some believed he’d fled Caixing for one of the far-off alien worlds whose citizens he’d so disdained. Some believed he’d found asylum on Earth, home of the only people he’d seen as people. Some believed he’d remained on Caixing, too clever to be caught, and continued plotting to seize power.

  Many missed his renowned voice and regretted that he would never again grace a stage. But many more were glad the Empress had uncovered his treachery. And her faithful AI Nightingale, though false in body, was truer than the Bilin Nightingale had ever been. She was generous with his time, allowing him to perform for the people whenever he pleased. But all knew that he belonged to her. Not because his creator had made him a gift, but because he chose to be.

  Time alone could heal the wounds of Jarik’s betrayal—but sometimes, it seemed as if there wasn’t enough time in the universe to stop the bleeding in the Empress’ heart.

  Two months later, she still sighed sadly as she went with Galen on one of their long walks. Galen may not have been an expert at human expressions, but he understood her well enough to know the cause of her sorrow.

  Since he didn’t know what to say, he instead took her hand. That was something humans did to comfort each other, and, with the warmth of her palm in his, he understood why. She was once again dressed as a commoner, and he no longer struggled to think about her as Daiyu.

  She glanced up at him. “Every time I walk past the Varia lilies, I think about how foolish I was to be taken in by Jarik’s deceit.”

  Again, Galen did not know what to say. He’d learned, though, that it was better not to say anything at all than to speak disingenuously. Yet Daiyu seemed to know how he felt.

  “I know I’m supposed to be strong,” she went on. “But even my parents needed to escape the palace now and then. I’ve decided to take a trip to Onaia, whose beauty rivals even Caixing’s with its soaring waterfalls and vibrant wildlife. Will you come with me?”

  Galen felt his mouth spread into an involuntary grin. “It would be my honor, Empress.”

  “Empress?”

  “Daiyu.”

  She smiled.

  They wandered through the seemingly infinite wonders of the Imperial Gardens, past Nairod roses with multi-hued petals and Iqinn trees whose red branches interlocked into patterns finer than lace.

  Galen’s heart sang, and soon, his voice joined in. He did not know the wordless melody that emerged, only that it had a life of its own and needed to be released. Soon, a fine soprano joined his rich tenor. Daiyu may not have known the song, but she could feel its intent.

  Two hopeful voices twirled between the flowers and the branches, wrapping around each other like interlocking fingers.

  About the Author

  Mary Fan is a sci-fi/fantasy author based in Jersey City. Her other books include Starswept (Snowy Wings Publishing, 2017), a YA sci-fi romance, Flynn Nightsider and the Edge of Evil (Crazy 8 Press, 2018), a YA dark fantasy, and the completed JANE COLT space opera trilogy from Red Adept Publishing. She is also the co-editor of the Brave New Girls YA sci-fi anthologies about tech-savvy girls, which aim to encourage more girls to explore STEM fields and raise money for the Society of Women Engineers scholarship fund. When she's not writing, Mary can usually be found at choir rehearsal, on the ski slopes, or on an airplane heading to wherever. Find her online at www.MaryFan.com.

  Books by Mary Fan:

  Starswept

  Wayward Stars (Starswept, Book 2) (Coming soon!)

  Flynn Nightsider and the Edge of Evil

  Artificial Absolutes (Jane Colt, Book 1)

  Synthetic Illusions (Jane Colt, Book 2)

  Virtual Shadows (Jane Colt, Book 3)

  Tell Me My Name (Fated Stars, Book 1)

  Let Me Fly Free (Fated Stars, Book 2)

  Brave New Girls: Tales of Girls and Gadgets

  Brave New Girls: Stories of Girls Who Science and Scheme

  Brave New Girls: Tales of Heroines Who Hack

  Leo 6

  a retelling of Rumpelstiltskin

  ♛

  MELANIE MCFARLANE

  Darkness surrounded Kjersi. It clung to her skin like a security blanket, reminding her that this was home and this was where she belonged. Every breath she took brought the darkness inside her, thick and heavy, lined with the fine dust of the mine that crept through the woven fabric of her mask. She needed to make a new mask, but fiber was hard to come by in the mines, and the thin air of the surface and the blaring heat of the sun were not elements designed for her people.

  Boots scuffed against the rocky floor as the line shuffled forward. Forty-six… forty-seven… forty-eight. Finally, it was her turn. Kjersi reached forward, finding the basin from memory, her fingers grabbing a grimy rag.

  “Oi, Nabil,” she yelled after her work partner. “You didn’t rinse the cloth.”

  His chuckle rang from deep in the tunnels, where Nabil was nearly at the lift. “It’s my present. A little bit of me for you.”

  Kjersi grumbled as she dipped the rag into the basin to be rinsed amongst the grime of the forty-eight miners before her. Nabil, always the jokester. Always trying to make her laugh. It wasn’t often she laughed. But that didn’t stop Nabil.

  Lifting the mask, she wiped her face with the rag. The grit of those who had come before her rubbed against her rough skin as she tried to wash away the mine. But Kjersi knew she could never escape the dirt. It was in her skin, her lungs, her bones. She was made here, born here—carved from the mines themselves. Her mother had delivered her in a mine cart, moments before dying, risking her life like so many other women back then who’d dared to risk pregnancy. Her father had carried her to the wash basin at the end of his shift to bathe the last remnants of her mother from her skin, already covered in the dust that enveloped them all. Yes, she was as much a part of the mine as she was human.

  The line pushed forward, indicating her time was up. Rinsing the rag properly, she left it on the side of the basin and made her way to the lines at the lift. There Nabil had saved a place for her.

  “Thanks a lot,” she said.

  His shoulders whispered against his sides as he shrugged in the darkness.

  “I’ve got something that may boost your spirits,” he said. “Apparently, the lift driver has brought news from the surface.”

  Kjersi grunted. “Why does everyone care so much about the surface? We’re undergrounders. I’m not interested.”


  “Really?” A hint of mystery lined Nabil’s voice. “Not even if it has to do with Earth?”

  “Earth.” She grunted again, though this time the sound was mixed with laughter. “Earth is a pipe dream for those with small brains.”

  “Well, the lift driver says there’s a contest starting,” Nabil continued. “And there’s a chance for a miner to win a ticket to Earth.”

  She shook her head. Nabil was so naïve. He would believe anything. “Lies, I tell you. Don’t believe a word of it.”

  On the ride home the driver wouldn’t stop talking about the contest. Kjersi kept to the back of the lift, pressing the side of her face against the cold steel walls. Under the UV lights of the lift, people were talking and jostling, and she didn’t like it one bit. It was the colors. The noise. The excitement that came with hope. She much preferred the familiarity of darkness.

  “And if we find the gem, then we can go to Earth?” someone asked.

  The lift driver held up a hand. “The largest gem wins! But don’t forget, you only have one month.”

  “How exciting,” someone else said. “I can’t wait to start looking.” And the loud talking of voice over voice began again.

  “Fools,” Kjersi said from her corner. “Only one Painite has ever been found in all the time that humans have inhabited Leo 6, and the president keeps it under lock and key. I know because it was my father who found it, and no one has found one since. This contest is nothing but a hoax to get you to work faster.”

  People started to grumble, but the lift driver cleared his throat. “Yes, the young lady speaks truth—only one has ever been found. But where there is one, there must be more, correct? And that makes your odds even better. If you are the one to find the second Painite, what are the odds anyone else will find a third or a fourth, yeah?”