Amid Stars and Darkness

by Chani Lynn Feener

  He began pulling her down the opposite direction from Olena’s rooms, and she fell into step with him. The relief she felt at not having to deal with Lura’s death this afternoon on top of what had just taken place in the ballroom was overwhelming. “You need to get me out of here.”

  “I know, Delaney.”

  “No, you don’t—”

  He paused, cutting her off. “I’m doing everything I can. I swear it.”

  “Why do you think Trystan saved my life?” she blurted, instantly regretting doing so.

  Ruckus’s expression tightened, and then they were moving once more, this time at an even quicker pace. “We can’t talk about that here. I need to get you somewhere safe.”

  She’d been removed from the ballroom along with the other three regents. From what she’d gathered, the rest of the guests were being kept there until Ruckus’s soldiers were certain that the shooters had all been accounted for.

  Pettus was already waiting for them outside the science wing, a bundle of clothing neatly folded over his arm when they got there. When he spotted them, he bowed his head, and the look of pity on his face made her want to throw up for what felt like the millionth time that day.

  Delaney hated feeling like this, scared and weak.

  They wordlessly entered one of the large workrooms, and Pettus handed the clothing over to Ruckus. Afterward, he moved toward two metal doors and exited, leaving them alone.

  “Here.” Ruckus held out the bundle and then spun pointedly on his heel. “I won’t look. Dress quickly.”

  She couldn’t get out of the bloodied clothing fast enough, and yet her fingers shook around the zipper, unable to hold it steady to get it down more than an inch. After the fourth attempt, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, nearly jumping out of her skin when she reopened them to find Ruckus had turned around and was now less than a foot away.

  “Apologies,” he mumbled, then motioned for her to turn. “Let me.”

  He slid the zipper down and then stepped back.

  “Thank you.” She dropped the dress to the floor, never wanting to see it again, and slipped into a pair of black pants and a brown shirt that exposed her midriff. Done, she barely resisted the urge to kick the dress under one of the heavy metal tables.

  Instead she stepped closer to Ruckus’s back and eased her hand into his from behind. When he started to turn, she rested her head against the side of his arm. She was shaking and trying really hard to get a handle on herself. The horrible things that had happened that day kept replaying in her mind, and she just wanted it all to stop.

  He reached around until he was holding her waist and hugging her gently to his front. The smell of firewood surrounded her, and for a moment neither of them spoke, giving her a chance to pretend that she was somewhere else. That they’d met somewhere else.

  That they were even a remote possibility.

  “Gibus believes he’s completed the machine to reverse the effects on your appearance,” he told her, breaking the silence and forcing her back to reality. “And the last report we received from Earth stated they were close. They’re going to find Olena soon.”

  “Not soon enough.” She took a deep breath and repeated, “Why do you think he did it?”

  Ruckus didn’t need her to elaborate, but when he didn’t initially respond, she looked up to catch him glaring off into the distance. “Haven’t you noticed the way he looks at you?”

  She blinked. “Are you … You sound jealous. Of Trystan. Who is psychotic.”

  “Of Trystan,” he corrected, “who just saved your life. He took a zee for you, Delaney. I’ve never seen him—” He clenched his jaw, tried again. “He’s the only heir of the Rex of Kint, and he put his life in jeopardy to protect you.”

  “Olena, you mean.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about his odd reaction toward the Zane.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I mean you.” His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. “I might not be the only one who can see past her face. He’s trying to see you, and maybe he already has.”

  “Ruckus—”

  He stepped back, running a hand through his dark hair in a poor attempt to smooth it back down. “I am jealous.”

  She frowned at him. “You’re jealous because he took a bullet for me and you didn’t?”

  At her pointed look, he sighed, the corner of his mouth just starting to twitch upward. “And you were saying he’s the psychotic one?”

  “Oh!” The sound of Gibus’s excited voice interrupted them, putting an abrupt end to their conversation. He appeared across the room behind one of the large metal workbenches, grinning ear to ear at them. “I thought I heard you! Come in! You’ve got to see this!”

  Cautiously, they made their way closer. There was nothing on the table to indicate what he was talking about, and their gazes swept around, searching out anything of interest. Seeing them, Gibus shook his head, sending long tendrils of his brown hair around.

  “No, no.” He angled his body toward the right, through the door he’d just entered. “This way.”

  Pettus had a hip propped against the side of a table, idly flipping through a book of some sort. He straightened when they entered the room. “They’re ready for you, Ander.”

  Ruckus nodded. “I’ll leave in a moment.”

  Ignoring their exchange, Gibus continued leading them over toward one of the glass cases, then he stooped down, blocking their view. A hum started up at the back of his throat, a tune that Delaney didn’t recognize, and he bounced a little on the balls of his feet. Obviously the assassination attempt against the royal family an hour ago had done nothing to damper the Sutter’s mood.

  “Look, look.” He wiggled two fingers at Delaney without even turning to her.

  Awkwardly, she stepped up, curiosity getting the best of her. Stopping close enough that their shoulders brushed, she bent down so that her face was at eye level with the glass. It was basically a twenty-gallon fish tank, only with a glass covering that had tiny pinpricks drilled into it.

  The tank was filled with weird plants she didn’t recognize, some with spiky bright red leaves, others with vibrant green ones that appeared to have a waxy texture. They’d been planted in a fine two-inch-thick layer of dark soil, and twisted every direction, obscuring anything else that could be hidden within.

  “What am I…” Her words trailed off when she caught sight of a marble-sized eye. It peeked out from beneath the tip of one red leaf, blending in so much in color that she almost hadn’t noticed it.

  For a second all it did was stare at her, but then a head eased its way out from under the foliage, exposing bright neon-pink scales. The creature had a box-shaped head, with two large, glassy red eyes, two slits for a nose, and one for a mouth. It gaped a little, exposing a row of pointy teeth and a long curled brown tongue.

  It pulled more of itself into view, so that she could see the long double-jointed legs on either side of its low oval-shaped body. A tail tipped with tiny razor-sharp pricks that mirrored its teeth flicked from under a green vine, clinking against the glass.

  It took her a moment, but she realized with a start as it continued to tap its tail that it was doing so to the beat of Gibus’s humming.

  “Please tell me that’s not a crumvit.” She gulped, recalling the name of the breakfast she’d been served that first morning on Xenith. Even though she hadn’t tried it, the idea of a dead version of this creature on her plate still made her queasy.

  “What?” Gibus dropped his tune and gave her a disgusted look. “No. This is a spinik. Duh.”

  “Human here, remember?”

  “You don’t make it easy to forget,” he said, and snorted. “Anyway, I named her Missy.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Where’d you get a spinik, Gibus?” Ruckus asked, leaning on the side of the tank so he could get a look now as well. “I thought they all died off a few years ago?”

  “They did,” he affirmed, beaming. “I created her.”

 
“You cloned her?” Delaney pulled back, eyes wide, and stared at him with a new appreciation. They could do stuff like that back on Earth now, sure, but it was still pretty cool to see it up close and personal. Even if she had no idea what a spinik was.

  “I improved her,” he corrected her. “You see these?” He pointed to the teeth on her tail. “The originals didn’t have them. That’s probably why the progos picked them off so easily.”

  “It’s like a type of bird,” Ruckus filled her in telepathically, because the Sutter was continuing and there was no way to get a verbal word out with him talking a mile a minute.

  “Once I’ve tested her out, we’ll be able to see if this new version of spinik can be released into the wild. If they can survive a progo attack—their number one predator—at least two out of three times, I’ll have successfully raised Missy’s species from the dead.”

  “Honestly, you sound a bit crazy … but I can see why you’re so excited,” she told him.

  “Well, of course you can.” Apparently he didn’t know what modesty was.

  She didn’t know why his weird genetic experiment surprised her; he had been the one to create the device that allowed Olena to do this to her. Maybe part of her had assumed he’d learned his lesson. Then again, he was trying to save a species. That couldn’t be bad, right? A bit mad scientist, but not necessarily bad …

  Ruckus took a step back from the glass. “Make sure you don’t let that thing out. If anything happens to Delaney, I’m going to hold you personally responsible.”

  “That’s not fair,” Gibus said, and spun on his heel, almost knocking into Delaney in the process. “Pettus is the Teller here, not me.”

  “And you’re the genius who got me into this mess,” she stated, a bit annoyed that he hadn’t even apologized for it.

  “Hey.” Having noticed the slump to her shoulders, Ruckus gripped her hand once more. “I’ll do this as quickly as possible and be back for you. Then you can get some rest.”

  She nodded, and for a moment it looked like there was something else he wanted to say, but he must have changed his mind, for he leaned in and kissed her cheek before turning to go. The second he was gone, she felt the panic from earlier seep back.

  “Delaney.” Pettus stepped over to her. “We won’t let anything else happen to you.”

  She glanced over at Gibus, who was wiggling a finger at the spinik like one might to a goldfish. Lifting a brow, she returned her attention to the Teller.

  He winced, playing up his reaction in an attempt to make her smile—which oddly worked. “Try not to think about it.”

  “Almost getting shot or”—she pointed at the Sutter—“that?”

  Pettus laughed lightly, and she was momentarily caught off guard by how comfortable she felt around him. Now that she’d had a few minutes to adjust to Ruckus’s leaving, she realized she wasn’t as terrified as she would have been without him a few days ago. She didn’t know the Teller as well as she did his commanding officer, but she trusted that he’d do his best to keep her safe.

  And he was right. As badly as she wanted to curl into a ball and weep right now, where would that get her? She was still shaken up, but a distraction might do her good.

  “Ruckus says you figured out how to fix my face situation?” Delaney addressed Gibus then. “Want to show me how it works?”

  “I can’t show you,” Gibus said, “because there was only the one prototype. So reversing what was done to you can’t be redone. However, I can explain it.” The spinik forgotten, he dashed over to the other side of the vast room, snatching something off one of the tables among a pile of metal scraps.

  Pettus leaned in and stated dryly into her ear, “This should be interesting.” When she looked at him, he winked.

  “Here it is!” Gibus was holding a small device about the size of a pencil and one-inch thick. It had a blue light tip that flashed every three seconds, and four silver buttons.

  “That kind of looks like Doctor Who’s sonic screwdriver,” she mused, and when the two of them frowned, she heaved a sigh. “Never mind. When this is all over, remind me to loan you the DVD set.” She tilted her head at the device. “How do you know this is going to actually work?”

  If there’d only been the one prototype, and Olena had it, how could Gibus be sure this thing would do what it was supposed to? What exactly had he tested it on? The last thing she needed was for something to go wrong, and instead of looking like Olena, she’d end up looking like a spinik, or worse, an ung.

  “I’ve done experiments,” he said vaguely. “It’ll work. Trust me.”

  “Pretending for a second that we actually do”—Pettus quirked a light brown brow—“how does it work?”

  “Simple, really.” He tilted the device so that the blue end pointed at Delaney. “You aim, and then twist at the center, like this.” A slow hum emitted from it as he demonstrated. “And you hit the third button.”

  “Why the third button?” she asked. “What do the others do?”

  “Nothing.” He shut it down and slipped it into the pocket of his light green lab coat. “I just thought it looked more aesthetically pleasing this way. Only one button made it seem kind of quaint, you know what I mean?”

  “I don’t believe either of us do,” Pettus answered for her, “no.”

  * * *

  IF SHE STOPPED moving, for even a second, flashes of Trystan’s body crushing hers, his blood on her hand, and Lura raced through her mind. After she’d almost slipped into her second panic attack, Pettus had caught on and gone out of his way to keep her distracted.

  They spent the next three hours teaching her how to play a card game.

  The game was called topsy and involved a deck of triangular cards that were held point down. Each player received a chunk of the deck, in their case a third, and all of them would flip a card from their hand at the same time, placing them faceup in the center for everyone to see. It was sort of like the game War, in that it was a game of chance, with certain cards trumping others. Once she got ahold of what each image was and which were the highest ranking, she started having a lot of fun.

  It was actually very relaxing, doing something so normal, so mundane, and she got swept away in it. For a while, she was able to forget she was sitting across from a Teller and a Sutter, instead of a soldier and a scientist. She was able to forget that they were aliens, and simply enjoy their company.

  This was even more impressive because of their topics of conversation. Throughout the games, they both took turns asking her questions about her life on Earth, what it was actually like there and some of the things she hadn’t seen yet but would really like to when she went back.

  Instead of feeling sad and hopeless when they mentioned this, she felt uplifted, like they knew for certain she’d get back there even though she had her secret doubts. And that was enough. Neither of them had taken their denzeration, opting out of them to kick-start their careers early. Apparently, it was a common decision among the Vakar and the Kints.

  So she told them about baseball and cheesecake and Rollerblades. Some stuff they knew about, but mostly just from hearsay. It was interesting, how much aliens knew about her species as a whole but how little firsthand experience any of them had with it.

  After about an hour and a half, she started dipping into more personal things, like stories about stupid adventures with Mariana, and how her parents had raised her with a certain image of who she’d become. How she didn’t exactly own up to that. She was in the middle of describing Doctor Who to them—a show that had somehow become more popular after the discovery of Xenith—when Ruckus returned.

  He looked haggard, with heavy purple splotches under his eyes. His hair was still slicked back, but the strands didn’t quite stick together, insinuating that he’d been repetitively running his fingers through it. His uniform was a bit wrinkled, and there was a distinct smear of blood on his left arm, right below the elbow.

  His tired eyes sought her out and he sighed, and s
ome of the tension seemed to ease out of him with his slow exhale. Standing there, he was like a beacon of warmth, and she found her heart skipping a beat and her face stretching into an even bigger smile.

  Waving the cards in her hands, she glanced over at the two men across from her teasingly. “You’re just in time to see me kick their asses again.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Gibus laughed and slammed another card down, whooping when it was the image of a large red lizard creature complete with fangs, five legs, and large, shiny wings. “Beat that, D!”

  She’d discovered that she wasn’t the only one there with a penchant for nicknames, and within the first half hour, Gibus had given her that one.

  She and Pettus flipped theirs at the same time, and she scanned the three cards, grinning ear to ear when she realized she’d won the hand. On her card there was a crocodile-type creature with dark blue-black skin and sharp bloodred eyes. Initially, she’d been confused how this card could trump the red creature on Gibus’s, seeing as how that one looked equally, if not more, terrifying, but they’d both insisted that the creatures were no match in a fight.

  Pointing at Pettus’s card, which had a fluffy pink creature resembling a cotton ball with googly eyes and antennae, she feigned fear. “Oh no! Not the rush bug!”

  “Shut up,” he mumbled, swiping his card off the surface with more force than necessary and flicking it across the table at her.

  She caught it, letting out another laugh, and slipped it into the pile before her. Now she had almost the entire deck—so close to winning. There was an empty chair across from her between Pettus and Gibus, and she angled her head toward it.

  “Want to join?” she asked Ruckus, who’d remained standing a few feet away.

  “As much as I like seeing you actually having a good time,” he admitted, rubbing at the side of his face, “honestly…”

  “You’re exhausted,” she finished for him. As she stood, the sound of her chair legs sliding against the hard floor mingled with the others groans of disapproval. “Sorry, boys, looks like we’ll have to pick this up another time. I’ve got to get the Ander to bed.”