For Darkness Shows the Stars (28 page)

Dear Kai,

My mother and I are going to my grandfather’s house today. They are going to turn on the windcatcher. If you don’t have work to do, would you like to come and see it?

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

I have to work with my da, but I’m jealous. I’ve heard about the windcatcher. Is it true that’s all the Boatwright uses to power his tractor? I imagine it smells a lot better than ours.

Though I guess that depends on the type of wind.

Your friend,

Kai

Dear Kai,

Very funny.

The windcatcher was amazing. I asked my mother why we don’t use one on the North estate, and she told me it was because it only works near the cliffs. But there is shoreline on the North estate.

After we watched it for a little while, we visited my grandfather. He is sick, but he’s still a lot of fun. He let me play with his big old compass. I can’t believe people used to use it to find their way. You know you can fool it with nothing but a magnet? He showed me how to make the arrow point in any direction I want with a magnet. It’s so easy to make it wrong, it’s a wonder people ever trusted it.

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

You saw the windcatcher and played with a compass? Now I’m really jealous.

I think your mother is right. I have heard the windcatchers don’t work everywhere. But there are other things that work. I have heard in the south, when it’s sunny all day long in the summer, they have lamps that capture the sunlight and glow all night. I would love to have one. It would mean I didn’t have to hoard candle stubs and I could read my books whenever I wanted.

And don’t worry about the compass. That’s not all they used. They also used the stars, and no magnet makes them move.

Your friend,

Kai

K
AI FOLLOWED HER GAZE
and he frowned.

“What’s wrong with her?” Elliot asked. She recalled Andromeda’s frozen expression earlier and remembered the reason she’d left her home estate. She’d never heard the name of the place, though. Had the Norths invited Andromeda’s old lord and lady to their party?

“I don’t know.” Kai looked at her. “I should go and check on her.”

“Yes.” Elliot figured she should stay back—the Post girl had never liked her, and she doubted Andromeda wanted her company when she looked so . . . vulnerable.

Vulnerable had never before been a word Elliot would have used to describe Andromeda, but she also couldn’t imagine her crying, either. Even if the Post girl’s Luddite father was here, Elliot couldn’t imagine Andromeda crying. Using her superhuman aim to lob a drink at him from across the pavilion, maybe. But nothing like this.

“But I don’t want to walk away from you without finishing our conversation. There are things I need to make you understand.”

What more was there to say? His whole life was a monument of mockery to Luddite society, and Elliot couldn’t even hold it against him. He hated being here and couldn’t wait to get away, and she couldn’t blame him for that, either. She didn’t need to listen to him detail his plans for a future with Olivia once the younger girl’s brain was put right. She didn’t need to hear him gloat about how all his dreams—the ones they’d once created together—were about to come true. Envy hurt exponentially more than heartbreak because your soul was torn in two, half soaring with happiness for another person, half mired in a well of self-pity and pain.

If she spent any more time with Kai, he’d see it written all over her. He’d perceived everything else about her. She couldn’t let him know this. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I have no intention of spilling your secrets. Any of them.” And she wouldn’t spill her own, either.

Kai held her gaze for a long moment and Elliot thought he was going to speak, but at last he went after Andromeda.

A cheer shot up from the pavilions and Elliot heard the announcement.

“The winner is Tatiana North, on her Innovation mount, Pyrois!”

She hadn’t expected anything less.

B
ECAUSE OF THE PRESENCE
of the Luddites at the house party, it was easy to expedite the reading of the Boatwright’s will. The heads of most of the great families convened in the parlor of Elliot’s house, waiting somewhat impatiently. The reading of a will was always such a dull affair compared to the fireworks and excitement of a funeral, especially a Boatwright funeral.

Since time immemorial, that side of Elliot’s family had bucked tradition. Instead of being laid to rest in the star cavern, they were sent out to sea on a pyre, like their ancestors had been doing long before the Reduction. When her mother died, there had been quite the debate about what to do with her body. Eventually, she was buried in the sanctuary, as a North, but Elliot always thought she’d been robbed. And though Elliot was born a North, she wondered if there was any way she could be treated like a Boatwright upon her own death. She vastly preferred the idea of sending her body out to sea to being permanently trapped in the earth beneath the North estate.

The Norths were all there for the reading of the will, of course. Tatiana was still glowing with delight over her showing at the horse race the previous day, and Elliot was pretty sure the blue gown she wore today was merely an excuse to accessorize with her winning ribbon. The Innovation horses had been the big winners at the race, taking first, second, and third place several strides before any other finisher. Hardly surprising. They’d been genetically engineered to do just that.

“It’s odd, is it not, that your father is not the executor of the Boatwright’s will?” Benedict asked from his seat at her side. He seemed to accept his second place standing in the race with good humor. And why shouldn’t he? Tatiana might have won the day, but he’d still get the estate. “After all, Uncle Zachariah was his son-in-law.”

“I don’t think my father and my grandfather were particularly close,” was all Elliot trusted herself to say. She also doubted her grandfather could trust her father to give away any little trinkets or even larger items—like some of the Boatwright’s personal ships—if he was made executor.

Instead, Baroness Channel was acting as executor, and for that Elliot was glad, if only because it meant that any of the more troublesome chores in the will would not fall into Elliot’s own lap as extra work.

The baroness was even now getting the attention of the group. Today she dressed in dove gray, with a matching veil attached to her hair with the assistance of a pair of bright peacock feathers. “We gather here today to read the Last Will and Testament of Chancellor Elliot Boatwright, of the Boatwright Estate, North Island.” The baroness cleared her throat and smoothed out the paper.

I, Elliot Boatwright, being of sound mind and body, do set forth this will, to be executed only upon my death by my appointed representative, the Baroness Lucinda Channel.

I hereby partition out the following items from among my worldly goods to my Luddite brethren:

To the Baroness Channel, I leave my schooner,
Morning Dew
.

To the honorable family of Grove, I leave the fishing vessel
Charybdis
, as well as their choice of any of my three dinghies.

To the Baron Record and his family, I leave the catamaran
Rhodes
, with the stipulation that they extend the offer of the same terms of employment to the COR crew as they currently enjoy.

To my granddaughter Tatiana North, I leave my carriage, as well as my two horses, Thetis and Amphitrite, in hopes that she will become an ever-finer horsewoman.

To my granddaughter Elliot North, I leave my compass, in hope that she will someday make it work again.

A lump rose in Elliot’s throat. He’d known she was always obsessed with his compass. He must have also known how she’d longed to use it to run away.

To my son-in-law, the Baron Zachariah North, I leave my dining room table, as he has always admired it.

In addition to these listed items, I leave the following to my faithful servants:

To the COR known as Sal, who worked in my kitchen, I leave my collection of copper molds, as well as three ounces of gold. She is free to remain on the Estate until the end of her days or leave to seek her fortune elsewhere.

Elliot sneaked a glance at her father as the baroness continued reading about the bequests to individual Boatwright Posts. She wondered if the baroness would be forced to track them down, as some had left during the bad time. And of the ones who remained, the will granted them their freedom and enough money for them to get a good start in a Post enclave, if that was what they desired. Would her father be angry to lose so many servants? Was he angry that other Luddites got boats, while he got a table? But her father’s face was serene. She supposed there was little to get angry about. After all, the entire Boatwright estate would soon be his in fact, as it had been in theory for so long.

Finally, the baroness reached the end.

The remainder of my worldly goods, and the house, outbuildings, shipyard, and lands of the Boatwright Estate, as well as the title of Chancellor, I hereby bequeath to my only daughter and heir, Victoria North, wife of the Baron Zachariah North, for the term of her life.

The baron nodded at this. So, Elliot noticed, did Benedict. But the baroness wasn’t done. “There is an addendum from four years ago.”

Four years . . . when her mother had died? Elliot saw her father straighten in his seat.

Upon her death, the estate and all of its belongings shall not become part of the North Estate, but will instead pass directly and undivided into the possession of my granddaughter and namesake, Elliot North.

Elliot gasped. She wasn’t the only one.

Should this occur before Elliot reaches the age of majority, the estate shall be held in trust for her jointly by the Baron Zachariah North and the Baroness Lucinda Channel, with the provision that it become wholly and completely Elliot’s upon her eighteenth birthday. This is the full and complete rendering of all my directives, and I have made these bequests of my own free will and in accordance with the laws of my Luddite brethren.

Signed,

Chancellor Elliot Boatwright

Witness: Baroness Lucinda Channel

Witness: Honorable Jeremiah Grove

The baroness raised her head from the paper. “And that is that.”

Elliot snapped her mouth shut. Half the people in the room were staring at her. The other half were staring at her father. His face was unreadable.

The same could not be said for either of his daughters. “Wait.” Tatiana held up her hand. “You’re saying that the Boatwright estate is . . . Elliot’s? The whole thing?”

The baroness nodded. “That’s what the will says, yes.”

Tatiana shook her head. “But that’s not fair! I’m the oldest granddaughter. He can’t leave me a carriage and Elliot the entire estate!”

“Perhaps,” offered the wife of Baron Record, “he thought you would inherit the North estate. After all, no one knew if Benedict would return to claim his birthright.” The woman’s husband shot her a warning look, and she ducked her head and fell silent.

Elliot blinked several times. The estate was hers. The farm, the gardens, the shipyard . . .
hers
?

She cast her eyes about the room, searching for a friendly face, and she found Benedict’s. He was smiling at her. “Congratulations, Elliot,” he whispered. “I think this will solve some of your problems.”

Her father had still said nothing. Instead he merely stood and straightened his jacket. “Well, that should be easy enough to execute. Those of you who have received articles belonging to the Boatwright should make arrangements to transport them as soon as possible. Except for the larger boats, I imagine many of you can take the items with you.”

“There’s no hurry, Father,” Elliot said.

He turned to her then, and the look in his eyes made her shiver. “Elliot. I’d like to speak to you in my study.”