Under the Stars

by Rebecca A. Rogers

A poignant grin tugs at the edge of his lips. “They’re good. Everybody’s good. I’m making enough money now that I can keep us all fed and clothed.” And then his face tenses. Especially between his brow. “I’m going back to Legora, Andy. I can’t stay here.”

  I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall. Keeping them open too long is a strain. “That’s good to hear. You should, you know. I’d go, too, if I was able. Tell your family I said hello.”

  He clears his throat. When I peek at him, I notice he’s trying not to tear up.

  “What’s this about?” I ask.

  “Nothing. Just…wait for me tomorrow. I mean it.”

  We both know he’s not going to rescue me. We couldn’t escape these crazy people if we tried. But it’s noble of him to try.

  “What would our perfect world be like, Malik?”

  He chews on his lower lip, and then replies, “In my world, there wouldn’t be hunger. My family and friends would live with me in a comfortable home somewhere in a forest, where we’d be surrounded by trees. We’d have shade, but the sun wouldn’t be like it is now. Or the moon. And the stars wouldn’t fall.”

  “And the insects wouldn’t try to kill us at night,” I add.

  He snorts. “Yeah, and that.” He watches me for a few seconds, and then asks, “What about you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’d like to have a family one day. Mama would be a grandma. Little Mattie, an uncle. And the kids would be able to go outside and play. No worries about protective domes or any of the problems we have out there.” I motion toward the opening above the table.

  “Same here,” he says with a big smile on his face. But it’s as if he realizes our world will never be that way, and his grin soon fades. The sun will always be too hot. The moon will be a reminder of the cold. And the stars will always fall. “I have to go.”

  I decide not to push him further. “All right.”

  He kisses me and we say our goodbyes. In two days, I may not be alive to hug, kiss or speak. For all I know I’ll be murdered in the same manner they say I killed Zarek.

  I wish Squeaks was here. At least I’d have someone to talk to.

  52.

  Dawn has peeked over the edge of the earth; its rays caressing, warm, alluring. I didn’t sleep last night. But I prayed Malik could hear my words. I told him how sorry I was, how none of this should’ve happened, and how, if given another chance, I would’ve left with him when there was time.

  Though no amount of words will prepare me for the day ahead, I’m confident my head is lucid enough to stand against Valyad.

  A soft knock startles me.

  “Yes?” I say.

  The door creaks open.

  “It’s me, miss,” says Daphne.

  I don’t think twice about scrambling from my bed and hugging her. “How’d they let you in here?”

  “I told ‘em I had ta see ya. Even if it’s for the last time.” Excess water pools around her eyes and begins to fall. “They said it had ta be short.”

  I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Whatever happens, will you contact my family? They have a right to know.”

  She sniffles. “Of course, miss.”

  “I need you to do something else for me,” I say. “I need you to send a message to Halgan. To Kelin. Tell him what’s happened, though I’m sure he already knows. ”

  “How did you—” she begins, but stops.

  “Never mind that. Tell him we need his army.”

  Her arms curl around my neck.

  “And, Daphne, try to hurry. We don’t have much time.”

  It takes every ounce of strength left within me not to join her crying. “Just find my family. Let them know. They may not make it in time, but it’d be best coming from you.” What if they don’t make it? What if I’m dead before I can say goodbye?

  Daphne nods. “Yes, miss.”

  “Tell them how much I love them.”

  “I will.”

  With one last embrace, Daphne shuffles off in a torrent of wailing and tears.

  Why do I feel like I’m losing everyone I love? If I could go back in time, I’d do everything differently. I never would’ve returned to Valyad. Mama was right—people like us just don’t belong here. We’re destined to make our own lives, whether it’s in the middle of a vast desert or somewhere nobody’s been since the Age of Desolation.

  One of the two guards stomps through the door. “It’s time,” he says. “Follow me.”

  No amount of mental preparation could’ve prevented my feelings at this very moment. I might vomit. I might put forth a struggle. I might even run out of this place, hoping to be shot along the way.

  But my heart is telling me to be strong. I can’t show them they’ve gotten to me. Especially not Governor Hadi. Whatever they have planned in there, I must be ready for.

  I’m only escorted by the single footman. He grips my arm the entire way to the main hall. They’ve removed the podium and replaced it with a long table and several chairs. Governor Hadi sits in the middle, reading over papers laid out before him. On both sides are people I don’t recognize. And the remaining space is filled with Valyad’s citizens.

  “She’s here, sir,” the guard says. “As you ordered.”

  Governor Hadi doesn’t look up from his reading material. He flicks his hand a couple of times. “That will be all. Have a seat, Andrina.” He motions toward a lone chair at the front of the room, facing him.

  I hold my head high and sit.

  “Shall we begin?” Governor Hadi asks, glancing around the room. It’s not like he really needs to consult anybody. Everyone’s answering to him. “Andrina Stevens, you are brought here today because you have been charged with the murder of Zarek Vartanian, King of the New World. I will call forth witnesses, hear their testimony, listen to your defense, and from there a jury of Valyad’s people will render a verdict. Do you comprehend everything I have explained?”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  But it’s a facade.

  A footman by the side door lifts a chair and brings it to the side of the table, in front of the crowd.

  “I will now call Lucy Otten.”

  Lucy, Lucy, Lucy. The name sounds familiar. It’s not until the blonde girl steps forward that I realize who she is.

  “Lucy, did you ever at any point serve Andrina?” Governor Hadi asks.

  “Faithfully, no. I was, however, her maid for a day.”

  “Just one day?”

  “Yes. She dismissed me.”

  Governor Hadi eyes the sheet of paper in front of him. “On what grounds?”

  “She claimed I was sleeping with the King, sir.”

  This garners the governor’s attention. His eyes lift from the paper to her. “And were these accusations true?”

  She frowns. “Of course not. Andrina only wanted to push me away because she saw me as some sort of a threat. I was loyal to His Majesty. And she wanted him for herself.”

  “How so?”

  The other judges sitting at the table are completely into her story. Occasional nods. Deep crevices on their foreheads. How can they not see through her?

  “Well, she told me she was working on winning his favor, that she was close and didn’t need anyone interfering. She said she’d do anything to help her people.”

  “And by this you mean: she was hell-bent on marrying our King?”

  “Of course.” She bats her eyelashes one too many times, keeping the innocent girl persona.

  “What do you think she had to gain by becoming Queen?”

  “The only thing I can think of is that she wanted his money. I mean, if I came from rags, and someone handed me everything on a silver platter, I wouldn’t refuse it, either.”

  “Very well. You may step down. Call the next witness, please.”

  She won’t even look at me. How much have they paid her to cough up lies?

  A tiny woman with pixie hair reads off the next name on the list.<
br />
  It’s Daphne.

  Governor Hadi doesn’t hesitate to begin as soon as she takes a seat. “Tell me, Daphne, how long did you work under Andrina?”

  “For as long as she was ‘ere, sir.”

  “So, a few weeks at most?”

  “I’d say so.”

  “During the duration you served her, were there any comments made about how she’d help Legora, the place she came from?”

  “Well, yes,” she says. Governor Hadi raises his eyebrows, probing for more answers. “She ‘ad said she’d do anything to help her people.”

  “Anything?” he questions.

  Daphne fidgets. “She jus’ wanted ta aid ‘em.”

  “Would you think that means, say, pushing for a marriage?”

  “No, but—”

  “Or maybe she wanted the King’s riches for her own, so her family could live peacefully.”

  Daphne shakes her head emphatically. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Oh, I think you’ve made your point very clear.” He sweeps his head from side to side, acknowledging his fellow judges. “Are we in agreement?”

  They concur.

  Poor Daphne. I know she means well, but she didn’t know the way she worded her testimony. The sorrowful glance she quickly passes in my direction discerns she was only trying to help. I mouth, It’s okay.

  “You are dismissed. Let us continue with the next name on the list.” Governor Hadi exhales a diminutive sigh. Like he’s bored and wants this over with as soon as possible. How does he think I feel?

  The man who found me screaming, and with the murder weapon in my hand, strides into the room and takes a seat. His lips move in response to Governor Hadi’s, but I’m so unfocused on what they’re saying. My mind’s already made the assumption that this man will be the one to bring me down.

  Governor Hadi licks the tip of his finger, and then flips through a couple of the pages in his hands.

  “—and what did you witness that morning?”

  This man’s eyes aren’t here. They have a certain glazed effect, and I’m willing to bet they drugged him. He’s utterly out of it.

  “What?” the man slurs.

  “The morning in question. The morning your King was murdered in cold blood.”

  “Oh,” he says. “That.”

  Governor Hadi is not thrilled with the performance of this witness. Someone gave him a little too much.

  “Um, she did it.” He lethargically raises his arm and points at me.

  Governor Hadi squeezes the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut. “Did what?”

  “Killed him.”

  “Thank you, Barton. Next time, try to sober up before an important event such as this.”

  The man stumbles over his own two feet on the way out and talks to himself; though I can’t make out what he’s saying because his speech is so impaired.

  Governor Hadi stands, clapping his hands together twice to make sure he has everyone’s attention. “We’re going to break for refreshments. Everyone, please meet here at the new hour.” So this means I’ll be thrown back into my cell, with no food or drink, while everyone else fills their bellies with puddings and fried meat and large glasses filled with purple juice.

  But, just to be on the safe side, I ask, “Where am I to go?”

  “Back to where you came.”

  I nod. “Thought so.”

  “Don’t look so down, Andrina. What did you expect—filtered water and biscuits topped with jams and jellies? Surely not.” Hadi rubs his eye with a fist, mockingly.

  “No, but I could at least be served something of nutritional value. I haven’t eaten in days. I’m weak. Both physically and emotionally. It’s the least you could do.”

  Something I say must resonate with him. He glances around the room before whispering through his teeth, “Just this once. And nobody’s to know of it. Are we clear?”

  “As clear as the glasses in the dining hall,” I reply.

  “You can think of it as your last meal.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but he’s already striding through the open doors. As normal, I’m escorted back to my dungeon. Even after being in there for two weeks, my nose isn’t unaffected by the stifling odors.

  At least ten minutes pass before a footman appears with a tray. Only, the meal before me is nothing more than a handful of steamed vegetables and a chewy brisket. It’s better than having nothing at all. And my stomach isn’t protesting.

  Every last crumb is consumed. My stomach is still upset, though that might not pass until the food is completely digested. I slide the platter toward the door and wait for someone to come pick it up.

  For the remainder of the hour, I have to prepare myself for more drugged and paid witnesses churning lies in each direction. Who decided it was a good idea to bring them in to give evidence? Not that any of them have proof. Everyone knows I didn’t do it; they just want me gone.

  But I have a plan.

  I might be free again. Mama and Mattie wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore because I’d live happily with them in Legora, forgetting everything about the past. I’d apply for a job—any job—in the market. I wouldn’t care about sand in my shoes, or the sun burning my skin. I think, at this point, I’d welcome both.

  “They’re waiting for you now. Come with me,” says a guard. I hadn’t noticed the door was open.

  With each new step, my hopes rise. I feel giddy, like nothing can stop me. And before Governor Hadi can open his mouth, I say, “I have a proposition.” I try not to let my smile show.

  “Oh?” He looks just as shocked as everyone else on the panel. “And you’re in a position to negotiate?”

  “I’ve thought about it, and I realize that nobody in Valyad wants me as their Queen. We all know I didn’t murder King Zarek. You all want me gone, so I’ll remove my title and leave. You’ll never hear from me again.”

  I’m met with cynical laughter. “You think that’ll actually work?” He eyes the crowd and everyone around him. “Like we’re all brainless enough to believe that you didn’t murder our King?”

  “I didn’t,” I say. “And everyone knows that’s the truth. You are looking for a reason to have me axed off the map, so you can claim the throne. There’s no other logical motive, and you know it. I’ll gladly give it to you. If you let me leave in peace.”

  “So, you expect us to just drop all charges and release you back into the desert?” His mocking laughter has all but ceased.

  “Isn’t that what I just explained to you?” I retort. “If not…” I trail off. What other leverage do I have? An uprising? But who would do it? “If not, then you’ll have to answer to the surrounding cities. You’ve cut off supplies, jobs are hard to find. They want a better life.”

  His grin slowly fades. “Now, isn’t that something to think about. Let me confer with the room. Wait outside.”

  I can’t believe this might actually work. It was short notice, yes. But if they agree to strip me of my crown and everything attached, I won’t complain. So, I gladly pace in front of the closed doors. The hallway is unattended, save for two guards, and it reeks of both indifference and aspiration.

  Minutes pass. When my constant moving sucks the energy from me, I sit down on the cold floor. What is there to deliberate on? It’s a simple scheme—one that shouldn’t take this long to figure out. Knowing Governor Hadi, though, he’s making everything that much more difficult.

  The metal door opens, and a delegate says I may step inside. I find my seat again. The air is thick, like the ceiling is sinking and purposely going to crush us all. But I know whatever was discussed in here will be revealed to me in a few heartbeats.

  “Andrina,” Governor Hadi says, pushing the papers in front of him a few inches away, “we have all come to the conclusion that what you suggested is, in fact, a good idea.” I almost shriek with joy. “However, the people have decided not to be so lenient on this issue. Therefore, they have given you a choice. And you had b
etter thank the stars for this because it’s never happened before.”

  Just when I thought I’d get out of here alive, they devise another plan. I don’t want to question it, especially not if it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. But I’m afraid of what these choices might be.

  “I’m listening,” I say, as if the governor needs any further initiative.

  “Your choices are the following: you can say you’re not guilty and stay locked up until your dying breath, or you can admit you’re guilty and we’ll end your suffering tomorrow.”

  What? Those aren’t real alternatives. They’re a poor version of each other. Either way, I’m staying here. Either way, I’m going to die.

  53.

  “That’s not fair,” I say, doing my best not to crumple on the outside like I am on the inside.

  “Nothing’s fair anymore,” Governor Hadi reminds me. “And, in Valyad, fair is only based on what you perceive it to be. To us, this is extremely reasonable.”

  I can’t help the crack in my voice when I say, “No. You’re doing this on purpose. You’re looking for a way out, something to latch onto, a reason for Zarek’s death. I am none of those.”

  “Can you blame us?” Governor Hadi grunts. “If your leader died and nobody knew why, wouldn’t you want to resolve it and move on?”

  “I would wait before I made reckless decisions. I wouldn’t sentence someone to death. Doesn’t that only make you drop to their level?”

  “Choose your words shrewdly, my dear.” He picks up a crystal glass on the table and sips. “Oh, and another thing. We need your answer right away. We’ve all got other matters to attend to and this trial is…imposing.”

  “Twenty-four hours.”

  Murmurs twist through the air.

  “Excuse me?” Governor Hadi practically chokes on his drink.

  “I need twenty-four hours to decide. How’s that for fair?” I stand, my fist squeezed tightly at my sides.

  He eyes me for too long, leaning back in his chair. “Fine,” he finally says. “You have until morning to make your choice.”

  I breathe a sigh of reprieve. For the first time since this trial began, my body relaxes. “Thank you.”

  “Take her away,” say the governor, twirling his finger in the air. The guards don’t hesitate to carry me off. Back to the holding cell, which may or may not be my final resting place. Depending on my choice.