Phoebe North - Starbreak

“Vhesesa auriz,” he said, his voice as smooth as velvet. But when their argument continued, an impassioned jumble, he repeated himself. His shout echoed against the glass walls of the antechamber. “Vhesesa auriz!”

I sat forward in the hard stone seat, gripping the armrests. They were decorated with gemstones and filigree, delicate carvings that bit into the palms of my hands. I held on tight to them. Because as Vadix surveyed the senators gathered there, I had the sudden, sinking feeling that it was all slipping away.

“We did not ask for you,” he said. I felt the air go out of the room as he turned toward me. He stared at me. No, he stared into me, uncovering parts of me that I’d been sure were buried deep. “We did not invite you here as our honored guests. You are simply driftwood, cluttering our shore. And now you rise up, elbowing us aside. You want us to make room for you? You come, full of weapons and ambitions, stirring the passions of our Guardians, demanding acreage for your cattle and sheep. You think we have space for them? We hardly have space for ourselves. We did not ask for you. Animals. Killers. We do not want you here. We do not want you .”

His earslits narrowed. He would hear no argument, accept no reply. Every single word he spoke sliced into me, as quickly as a hand-hewn spear, just as surely as any knife. He didn’t want me. Bloodthirsty. A murderer. I felt my heart break in my chest.

But not Mara. It was nothing to her. She sat back, flashing her hand. “What of the southern continent, then? We haven’t seen any sign of a city there.”

Vadix leaned his hands against the table, but I could hardly hear him as he spoke. “It is wild. Untamed. The Ahadizhi there are not our allies; we do not speak their tongue. And without them the beasts will destroy your settlement. This is without a doubt.”

“We have a dome.”

“Do you think your ancient glass will protect you? In winter our Guardians patrol thrice daily. With prod and song and double-bladed dagger. And still some of them are lost to us at the claws of the beasts, may the god and goddess grant them many seedlings. The southern beasts would tear you apart, swallow your weak flesh whole.” I watched him—watched the jagged line of his teeth.

The grimace was strange. So unfamiliar. I’d known the many moods of that mouth—joyful and teasing, hesitant and gentle, loving and lusty and coy. But I’d never known him to look so hateful . It wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. I felt something swell within me. Not the familiar flare of anger, that hot spark that led me to do dangerous, murderous things. Something else, shining and true.

As he and Mara argued, I lifted myself to my feet. My hands were cold, numb. But my mind wasn’t. In my determination everything had gone bright and clear—especially Vadix’s expression. His lips hung open. I felt his fear, hanging over the heads of all these senators and dignitaries. He didn’t want me to speak. But I had no choice. Otherwise our fate would fall back on Aleksandra. On violence. On certain death.

“No,” I said firmly. He looked at me, and Mara looked at me, and all the senators swiveled their heads to look at me too. A dozen black eyes took me in. I tried to keep my voice even. I didn’t want my emotion to spill over, revealing me as delicate and sensitive. Weak. I had spent too much of my life like that, soft-bellied and afraid. “It’s not right. This isn’t right. We need your help. You can’t turn us away!”

“What do you know of ‘right’?” Vadix scoffed. He finally pulled his long hand from his sleeve—and pointed a spindly finger right at me. “You are not like us! Dangerous aliens, with untamed, murderous hearts.”

I stared at him, at the anger that flared wildly across his face. But no matter the heat of his words, I knew the tender boy that was hidden deep inside. He already knew my heart. He’d clutched it to his body. He’d accepted me before he ever knew me, found me worthy, whole. Good.

“Oh, Vadix,” I said, my own voice softening. “You know that’s not true.”

This time I didn’t have to touch him to let him feel the electricity that tied us together. Words alone were sufficient. He snatched back his hand as if he’d been shocked.

“Lies,” he hissed. But they were all looking at us, the Xollu and Ahadizhi and Mara Stone, too. The Xollu sat forward in their seats. The Ahadizhi exchanged puzzled glances before looking back at me. And Mara’s mouth was creased by frown lines.

“Terra,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “What are you talking about?”

Up until that moment Vadix had been fearless—strong despite his willowy frame and slender limbs. But in that moment he looked like the slightest wind might blow him over. For the first time his eyes had taken on the same fearful cast as the rest of the Xollu’s.

“Vadix knows,” I said, my voice hoarse. “He knows why he has to help us. He knows why he has to help me .”

One of the Xollu senators sat forward in her chair. She inclined her head to Vadix, speaking gently.

“Vadix lousk, aiosoez daullu aum auru thahari voraz daze?”

“Shesezi daiosoez,” he said. In Asheran he added, “No. No, she is wrong.”

“Terra,” Mara said again, more sharply this time. Her patience was wearing thin. But suddenly I was the most patient creature in the world. He knew who I was. He could deny it all he wanted, but we both knew the truth.

“I dream about him,” I said. “Every night, for months and months. Before I ever knew him, he was there. I don’t know how it happened, or why. If it has something to do with the chemicals in my brain, or magic. But I know that together we walk through the dreamforests. The . . .” I reached for the words. They were there, at the back of my mind, buried deep in my subconscious. “The Ahar Taiza. Together. Vadix and me.”

A collective gasp rose up from the Xollu senators. One of them fixed his red hand against the sleeve of Vadix’s robes.

“Vadix lousk,” he began, “auru thahari voraz daze?”

Vadix didn’t answer.

“I know we’re not supposed to take off into space again,” I said. Part of me wanted to plead with him, to throw myself at his feet and tug on his long robes. But I wouldn’t let myself. He knew me. He knew what I was to him. I needed to trust in that. “And I know we’re not supposed to land the dome in the south. Not without you, Vadix. Not without the two of us together. We’re supposed to be a team. We’re supposed to help each other.”

I felt something shift, changing inside him. I can’t tell you how. Outwardly he was the same, immobile as a statue. But he was gathering up his courage like a heavy cloak, wrapping it around himself. Keeping himself safe.

“No!” he said. “Lies!”

He opened his eyes up wide. They were black as space and twice as endless as he spun on his heel, his robes a whirl of color and light around him, and rushed from the room.

For a long time we were all silent, watching the door that hung open at the back of the antechamber. Finally Mara reached up her hand to me.

“Oh, Talmid ,” she said. I could see in the sad turn of her mouth what she thought of all of this. To her I was nothing more than a girl—a silly girl with a crush.

But I wasn’t. I knew better, and so did he. I pulled away from her.

“Vadix!” I called. I almost tipped over the heavy stone chair as I rushed for the door. “Vadix!”

Mara called out for me to stop. After a moment a dozen alien voices joined hers. But I didn’t listen. I rushed through the door and down the wide stairwell, shouting after him as I pressed through the crowds.