Lexan's Pledge (Starbright Novellas) (5 page)

“That is so sweet! I love how you help your mother cook. What a nice thing to do!”

I can barely keep the smile on my face without laughing at her, or vomiting. I’m not lying, exactly. I’m just not mentioning that Mother won’t need my help for at least two hours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess,” I say, keeping just out of reach of her fingers. It’s one thing to surrender to kissing her when nobody is watching, but I’d have to be insane to risk Trea seeing the girl plant one on me in the middle of the Training Room. She doesn’t want me, but I’m positive she doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.

We’d all end up incinerated. Piles of smoking ash on the rock floor.

When I hurry through the front door, I’m startled to find Pasia is already sitting at the table with Mother, and without her partner Lennon.

“Hey, Lex,” she grins, giving me a hug. She wrinkles her nose. “Go take your shower and come straight back here. We need to talk.”

“About what?” I ask, grabbing a golden apple from the pottery bowl on the counter.

“It can wait a few minutes. Go clean up,” Mother answers, waving me away.

Even so, I hurry through my shower and soon rejoin them. Pasia looks very serious, and that always makes me nervous.

“I’ve been waiting to share this with you, hoping things would work themselves out between you and Astrea,” Mother begins as I sit at the table.

I groan and hang my head back. Pasia giggles. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a “concerned conversation” about my lack of relationship with my future partner.

“Well, I’m sorry to keep bringing it up, but I never anticipated there would be such animosity between you two as you grew up. I kept hoping those growth hormones would turn on and she would flower out a little for you.”

“Mother. That’s weird. We aren’t plants. And if Trea were a plant, she’d be one of those eating ones from the old books.”

“Venus fly traps?” Pasia laughs.

I snort, picturing it, but Mother just sighs.

“There is a page of Firene’s journal which wasn’t lost, but which I’ve never shown either of you,” she says, and we are immediately silent and alert. “It’s very serious, and you won’t like it, but we’re running out of time.”

She produces a yellowed scrap of paper from an envelope and places it before me. The writing is a bit faded, but I can still read the coded message. Pasia leans forward too, but she only shakes her head.

“I don’t remember that code. Read it out loud, Lex.”

“The story of the spring star and autumn star has recently opened its symbolism to me, by way of a recurring dream,” I read. “Mother, what story is that?”

“I don’t know, exactly. There are several, but of course Astrea is the spring star because of the Spring Equinox—”

“And I’m the autumn star,” I finish. Sometimes I have to agree with Trea that these prophecies and stories sound too strange to really be true.

“Keep going,” Pasia says, kicking me lightly under the table.

“The spring star is a savior figure. It asked to help the people. But the autumn star is a protector figure. It asked only to help the spring star. When the prophecy is fulfilled, and the maiden of Justice arrives, she will be the savior. The scales of Balance will be her protector, and he must never leave her side, until the prophecy has closed.”

“Closed?” Pasia asks. I’m more worried about the implication that I
will
leave Trea someday.

Mother nods. “That’s a way of saying that the prophecy will be completely fulfilled. Your births were just the beginning of everything. Firene knew that, and she left this for us so we could ensure Astrea’s protection.”

“How am I supposed to protect her if she won’t even let me near her?” I grumble.

“There’s more,” Mother answers, quietly. She pulls another sheet from the envelope and pushes it towards me.

The look in her eyes is the same look I remember from the day Father died.

My breath grows shallow as I scan the paper and fear courses through my body.

“What? Tell me!” Pasia demands, her own expression growing fearful as she watches me.

“It says I have to protect Trea every minute. Until her last. Then I have to let her go.”

“Okay. Now translate!”

“It sounds like Trea has to sacrifice herself, and I have to stand back and let it happen,” I say, shoving the paper away. Mother nods her agreement but doesn’t look up. My stomach is rolling like a pot of boiling water. “It says I’m supposed to love her, and protect her with my own life, and then somehow just offer her up to die!”

I stand up so abruptly that the chair falls over. I don’t pick it up. I just stalk into the next room, my arms shaking with nervous energy.

How can the stars ask something like this of me? Of Trea? How could the people?

I feel so betrayed by my own religion. How can I pray to a thing that unfeeling? And suddenly I see the prophecy through Trea’s eyes - a thing. Made by other things. Regardless of how the stories make it sound, the sun and moon and stars were never living, feeling humans like us. They don’t know what it’s like to love, or to lose, and to live with that loss forever.

“Lexan,” Mother says softly. She stands in the doorway behind me. I stop pacing and stare at her, my fingers tapping a staccato on the wall.

“Keep your faith in all things hidden. We believe in the stars when we cannot see them. We believe in the sun when it no longer shines for us. And we believe in the universal truth even when it is not shown clearly.”

These statements, so ingrained in my heart and my religion and my childhood, deflate all the anger and energy from my body. I sink into the couch and look up at my strong mother.

I wait for her guidance.

“None of this was ever about what
we
wanted, Lexan. We are each only part of an immense plan. We can’t even know the whole plan - our brains are too miniscule to contain such knowledge.”

“But our souls are large enough to contain the faith we need,” I finish, remembering.

Pasia comes and sits next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, little brother. I wish it didn’t have to be you.”

I hug her close and smile the way she likes me to, with both sides of my mouth.

“Well, while we’re sharing, I have something too,” I begin, deciding that I really don’t want the sole responsibility for Saloman’s prophecy.

“A child of peace, born in a place of war. A child of right, born in a place of many wrongs. A child of lawfulness, born in a place with no laws. These three will defeat the Fates and lead us to the Garden,” I tell them.

“A child of right,” says Pasia slowly. “That must be Astrea.”

I nod. “That’s what I was thinking, too. Right is like justice. And there are certainly many wrongs here.”

Mother makes a bitter noise and flexes her fingers. “And we certainly don’t have war, while we have too many laws. Where did Saloman think these other children would be? Somewhere on the surface?”

I shake my head. “He didn’t say. Or wouldn’t. There’s a lot he isn’t telling me. I can see it - he’s afraid of Keirna too. Either that or he has some other agenda.”

“Perhaps, being a minister, he wants the stars to decide?” Pasia suggests.

I roll my eyes, but she is probably right. Mother is right that I don’t know the whole plan, but I’m not convinced that I need to sit back and wait either.

I have a lot of faith, but I’ll be damned if I let something I’ve never seen determine whether Trea and I live or die.

December 28, 2066

I met a young man today. I meet people each time I sneak out of the safe house, but he is the first one worth mentioning. Charles seems to know everything about everything, and his family has more money than I’ve ever thought possible.

I was wandering the open market when a young girl pulled me into a private café where he was eating. He told me he knows Evangeline, and that he had been waiting for me to arrive. He has the Sight, just as she does, and he claims to have seen our future in his star charts.

He claims we will meet many more times before the world ends, and that we will be together after that, in a new world.

I laughed at him, but he only offered me ice cream, and smiled. That knowing smile is why I will sneak out to see him again soon.

from First Leader Lakessa’s private journal

included in Firene’s secret papers

My brain stays muddled until Community History the next day, when Trea actually asks Teacher Renata a question, instead of sulking silently through class.

Everyone swivels to stare at her and she looks more than a little uncomfortable. “Since Lakessa was born on the Spring Equinox, is that why all First Leaders must be born then?”

It’s simple but insightful, and Renata actually smiles, which I don’t think she’s ever done at Trea. “Yes, we only allow First Leaders to come from those children, like yourself, born on that most special of days. It is a way to honor First Leader Lakessa.”

I can’t help but narrow my eyes. There wasn’t much worth honoring in the way Lakessa ran Asphodel, although most people don’t know this anymore. Firene’s secret papers tell quite a different story than our history books.

So, because I can get away with asking what Trea really wants to know, I say, “But isn’t it a little egotistical, to say only people who are just like you can be First Leader? I mean, didn’t First Leader Lakessa write pretty much all of our rules about leaders?”

I feel Trea cut her eyes back to me, but she looks away before I can connect.

Renata’s mouth turns down a little, as though I’ve hurt her feelings by criticizing our esteemed First Leader. “Well, Lexan, that is somewhat accurate. I can see you’ve discussed the matter with Pasia. But First Leader Lakessa did not write all the laws by herself. I imagine there was quite a team of leaders who helped.”

“Who were they?” Trea demands, not even raising her hand.

Renata flushes and glares at the papers she’s trying to stack. “I’m sure their names are recorded somewhere, but the only one who comes to mind is Head Minister Charles, Lakessa’s partner. I know they worked together closely to create Asphodel. They are, after all, our founders. Which brings me back to my original question of the memorial.” She turns her glare on Trea, who doesn’t flinch a bit.

I smile to myself, wondering at her audacity with teachers. Not just teachers - everyone. She isn’t even afraid of Keirna.

I notice Renata has paused and is smiling at me. I have no idea what she’s just said, so I just smile back.

“And so this year,” she continues, “Choosing Day will celebrate the fulfillment of that prophecy. Now, take out your notes from yesterday, and we’ll add to them.”

I start to thumb through my notebook, but then I see Trea turn around. Her gaze meets mine straight on, like she was looking for me.

My heart speeds up and I feel my breathing get shallower, like her very stare is sucking oxygen away from me.

And then she smiles, like she’s trying to make nice.

I can’t help it - she looks so uncomfortable making this small gesture. So I wink at her. Because I just wish we could stop taking all of this so seriously. Maybe if our lives weren’t all prophecies and pledges and promises of death, we could actually figure out a way to be friends.

Winking was apparently not a good idea, because Trea just scowls at me and huffs back around in her chair. I sigh and start taking more endless notes on Choosing Day, writing automatically as Renata drones on.

* * *

Friday morning Saloman has me practicing my horoscope reading with the two older ministry students, since I’m the only one from my own class. They’re just a year older than me: Wynton is a Libra, and Willow is a Pisces like Saloman - the only two signs allowed to choose ministry.

Willow moves the metal hands of her jointed rules across Saloman’s large woven star chart as Wynton scribes the order of the ten names - sun, moon, and the eight planets our people have never seen. I can’t help but watch their practiced movements with envy - not only are they easy friends, they both have demonstrated the true sight, as well as the blind, trusting belief that I often lack in my own ministry training.

Saloman enters and inspects their work, pointing out a few discrepancies, but I have a hard time focusing. All I can think about is the last time I was here in his office and the prophecy he made. I want to press him further on its meaning, but I can’t even mention it unless we are alone.

He seems to sense my need, as he sends the others to the library to continue their work.

“What would you like to know?” He says as soon as the door has shut behind Wynton.

I’m startled at first by his bluntness, although I shouldn’t be. Saloman can read people as well as he can read the star charts.

“Where are the other two children from?” I ask, watching him carefully. He holds my gaze, then shakes his head.

“I don’t know. But I do know that when Asphodel was formed, two other cities were formed. Three cities—”

“Three children,” I finish, nodding. “But what if those cities have died out already, like our history says?”

He smiles. “History is written by people. People aren’t always honest with others, or with themselves.”

“So you’re saying our books are lies?” I can’t hide my anger, and I don’t even try.

“No. I’m saying none of us has been outside in a hundred years. Who knows what’s out there. But I’ve seen cities and outlying groups in my dreams since I was a child. I don’t believe Asphodel is alone out there.”

“And neither does First Leader Keirna?”

He smiles again, but with sadness. “No. She doesn’t.”

I run my fingers along the lines of the woven star charts still carpeting the desk. Nobody knows what to expect from the outside world, and fear of the unknown can make people desperate.

“Have you decided what you’ll do when Astrea leaves?” He asks after a few minutes of silence.