Starcrossed (35 page)

I turned to the others. “Did you hear me? I won’t
let
you send them away.”

“The decision will be theirs, of course,” Mr. O’Gara said. “But I’ll be surprised if they choose to defy the will of the Council in this matter.”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Stuart repeated, releasing me with obvious reluctance. “If there’s any way—”

“Ariel, I think we should go.” Mr. Stuart’s voice held a note of warning. “Rigel, you, too. You’ll still see each other in school these next few weeks. Beyond that, well, it will depend on what the Healers come up with, and on the Council. I’m sorry, too, M.” I could tell he meant it.

But it didn’t matter, because they were leaving. Leaving the O’Garas’ house and, in just a few short weeks, leaving Jewel completely.
 

Unless I could stop them.

dilsacht
(DIL-sok):
loyalty; allegiance

I’ll fix this somehow,
I thought desperately to Rigel as his parents herded him toward the door.
They can’t do this!

He looked back at me, frustration as clear on his face as it was in his thoughts.
Be careful, M. I can’t lose you. Not now!
Then, a little more calmly—but I could tell he was forcing the calm, for my sake—
Tomorrow. We’ll figure something out tomorrow.
 

I resisted the urge to nod, glad we’d kept
this
part of our bond secret.
Tomorrow,
I thought back. Then, aloud, for everyone else’s benefit, “I’ll see you at school, Rigel. And I’ll try to have good news.”
 

He grimaced, a mockery of a smile, and then they were gone. Immediately, I turned to face the others.

“You can’t do this. You can’t
make
them move away, just like that, just because of me. Dr. Stuart has a job here, she has patients. Rigel has school.” I didn’t try to hide my anguish—or my anger.

Mrs. O’Gara came forward, her expression sympathetic. “M, dear, I’m sorry it has come to this, and even more sorry you’re so upset about it. But surely you can see that it is necessary?”

“No! I don’t see that it’s necessary at all! What’s the point? To trick all these new Martian observers into thinking Sean and I are dating? So they’ll tell everyone I’m forming those
alliances
you care so much about?” I was practically shouting but I didn’t care.

I glared around at everybody in the room. Molly was staring at the floor, her chin trembling like she was holding back tears. Sean looked upset, too, and also wouldn’t meet my eye. The two Healers were quietly packing up their equipment, like they couldn’t escape quickly enough. Mr. O’Gara looked serious but determined and Allister—Allister was smirking again. I wanted to slap him so badly my palms itched.

“That’s only part of it, dear.” Mrs. O’Gara kept her voice and expression soothing and apologetic. “Rigel is a distraction at a time when you need to be focused on learning as much as possible about your people and your future duties.”

“So this is because I haven’t been
studying
hard enough?” I glared at Allister. “I’ve been sick this whole last week, remember? Because Rigel
wasn’t
here. Obviously him being gone is
way
worse for my studies than having him here could ever be.”

Finally, Allister spoke. “That won’t be true once a cure is found for this . . . anomaly. And those alliances you speak of so dismissively are far more important than you yet realize. You will understand once you’ve learned more. How can we impress upon you what a critical time this is for our people?”

I clenched my teeth for a moment so my answer wouldn’t be a scream. “I get it, okay? Faxon will be out of power soon and you . . . you
Royals
need to be able to hold me up as some kind of replacement before anyone else tries to take over. But you also keep telling me I’m too young, that I’m not ready, so excuse me if I don’t see how who I’m dating is going to make
any
difference.”

“You may be young,” Mr. O’Gara said, his voice still oozing reasonableness. “But you
will
have responsibilities as soon as Faxon is out of power.”

“Right. Okay. You want me to be a leader?” He nodded, as did the others. “Fine. Then I hereby forbid you to make the Stuarts leave Jewel.”

Mr. O’Gara smiled. “I’m afraid you don’t have that authority, M, not yet. That will be the Council’s decision and then it will be up to the Stuarts to obey it—or not.”

“Okay, then what authority
do
I have?” I challenged him. “Give me some examples.”

I wasn’t surprised when he hesitated, shooting a glance at Allister before replying. “Ah, as you are underage, one of your first duties when Acclaimed Sovereign will be to appoint a Regent until you reach your majority.”

“Someone
appropriate
from within the Royal
fine,
” Allister added. “Someone with experience, who is familiar with issues on Earth as well as on Mars.” His smug expression implied he fully expected to be that Regent.
 

Over my dead body.
 

“What else?” I prompted.
 

“Even as a minor, you will have ceremonial duties,” Mr. O’Gara said. “You will be, in essence, the face and voice of our government, though your Regent will handle most of the day-to-day governance. Those powers will be transferred to you over time, as you gain experience, knowledge, and political connections.”

That last word made me glance at Sean, who still wasn’t looking at me. “And Sean? What would
his
duties be? Since you make it sound so important that he has to be—” I broke off, not willing to say the word
Consort
or anything similar.

Allister answered. “Traditionally, the Sovereign and his or her Consort have ruled jointly, dividing their responsibilities according to their individual strengths and interests. That is why the Consort must be from the Royal
fine
and House, and why he or she is also trained in government, history and leadership principles from an early age.”

Now I spoke directly to Sean, forcing him to look at me. “So you’ve been studying this stuff all your life?”

Clearly embarrassed, he shook his head. “Not exactly. Not the way I would have if . . . well, everyone thought you were dead, remember? Which meant I was . . . nobody special.”

There was an echo of old pain in his voice that made me curious what his childhood had been like, with him pretending I was alive—the thing that would make him special. Did he get teased, like when I “pretended” to be a Martian princess? Our reasons hadn’t been all that different . . .

With an effort, I pulled my thoughts back to what really mattered. “What can I do to convince you that Rigel and I
need
to be together? Because we do.” I tried to be forceful but was afraid I sounded whiny instead.

 
“We’re not the ones you need to convince, dear,” Mrs. O’Gara told me gently. “It’s in the hands of the Council now—and the Healers.”

Molly spoke for the first time since I’d arrived, though barely above a whisper. “What . . . what if the Healers
can’t
find a . . . a cure?”

Fiona, on her way to the door with Brody, answered, surprising me slightly since she was so far away—but of course, she had Martian hearing. “I can’t imagine anyone will force a separation in that case. But—I am sorry, Excellency—I’m reasonably confident we’ll have something ready to test within a few days, as the Council has requested we devote all of our resources to this.” The two Healers gave me the fist-over-heart salute and left.

“Stupid Council,” I muttered, glaring at Allister again, since he was the only member present. Which reminded me. “Is Shim on board with this? With making the Stuarts move away from Jewel?”

Allister cleared his throat, looking just the slightest bit uncomfortable. “He may have dissented when we put it to a vote Saturday night, but that was before we had the Healers’ assurance that they would be able to produce an antidote. When his grandson’s health is no longer an issue, I’m certain he will see reason.”

So Shim
had
believed in our bond all along. Though how that could help, with the rest of the Council so determined, I wasn’t sure.

I suddenly felt drained by the drama of the past hour, but couldn’t let them see any weakness. Not now. Not when staying strong might be the only power I had to change anyone’s mind.

“I’m going home,” I told them.

I worried that a night away from Rigel might cause a relapse, but I woke up the next morning still feeling light years better than yesterday morning—if not quite as good as when I was actually with Rigel. That was good, since I had some big decisions to make. Both of us did.

Like yesterday, Rigel was waiting outside the school when my bus pulled up. To my surprise, neither Sean nor Molly commented—or even looked particularly judgmental. Sean just gave him a quick nod as he went past, into the school, and Molly sent me a sympathetic, sad sort of smile before following her brother inside.

“Looks like you won
them
over, at least.” Rigel twined his fingers through mine—always a fabulous relief after time apart. “What did you say after I left?”

“Hardly anything to them. I did kind of throw tantrum at the O’Garas and Allister, for all the good it did. They claim I don’t have any real power yet, for all the Sovereign crap they keep yammering at me. Whether that’s true or not, we can’t let them get away with this. You
can’t
leave me again.” I looked pleadingly into his face, gripping his hands more tightly.

“Dead last on the list of things I ever want to do,” he said with that crooked smile I loved so much. “But my parents . . . I don’t think they’ll defy the Council, M. We talked about it for hours last night. They hate it as much as we do—well, almost as much. But they won’t put their personal feelings ahead of what they see as the good of their people.”

“Well, I will,” I said stubbornly. “You’re
way
more important to me than a bunch of people I’ve never even met.”

Rigel pulled me against his chest and buried his face in my hair. “And you’re more important to me than anything at all, including my own life. I want to be with you more than anything in the world, M, but—”

The warning bell rang and he loosened his grip on me.

“But what?” I prompted, taking his hand again.

“C’mon. We don’t want the Warden catching us out here again.” He led me toward the front doors but I pulled against him.

“But what?” I repeated. “Rigel?” I could feel sadness and conflict from him, and it worried me.

He tugged on my hand. “We can talk later—silently, if we have to. Let’s get to class.”

It wasn’t an answer, but I could tell he didn’t want to say more when we were likely to be interrupted. Based on that conflict I felt, I suspected he also wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say, and needed time to think about it. Frustrated and impatient, I accompanied him silently to Geometry, trying hard to keep my doubts to myself.

Ms. Harrigan was already there, which meant no out-loud talking. But once class was underway, I thought to Rigel,
What were you going to say earlier? Can you tell me now?

Just trying to figure what’s best for you, M. We can’t let
them
screw up your life, but I don’t want to accidentally do that, either. We’ll talk later, for real.

When?

But he just shook his head, almost imperceptibly. I tried—hard—to tap into his thoughts, but either I wasn’t as good at it as he was, or he was better than me at shielding. All I got was a jumble of emotion—worry, love for me, some unfocused fear, but no clue to what he was actually
thinking
. I pressed my lips together and tried to focus on the lesson, even though math had never seemed more irrelevant.

I was a little surprised neither Sean nor Molly showed up to walk me to second period, which meant Rigel could.
 

“Okay, give,” I said as soon as I’d verified no one was close enough to hear—no one with Martian hearing, in other words. “What was that ‘but’? What makes you think
you
could possibly screw up my life?”

Rigel gave a half-grin, but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. “I know what you’re thinking, because I’ve been thinking it, too. But all the reasons we couldn’t run away before Thanksgiving still hold now, M.”

“Before Thanksgiving, nobody was trying to make you leave town permanently!” I protested. “You got as sick as I did last week, Rigel. Maybe sicker. I’m not going through that again, and neither are you.”

“They said—”

“Yeah. Some so-called cure they don’t even have yet. Like I care. The sick part wasn’t the worst thing about last week. Not for me.” I left that hanging, almost a question.

He sighed. “Not for me, either. Being apart from you, well, it just might kill me, even if their antidote works. But I won’t sacrifice your whole future because of my feelings.”

“Then do it for
my
feelings.” My voice rose above a whisper and I tried to control myself. “How many times do I have to tell you, Rigel,
you
are my future!”

He didn’t say anything else until we reached my classroom. Then he whispered, “Okay. If it really comes to a permanent separation, we’ll run. Meanwhile, lets both look for alternatives, okay?”

“Okay.”
 

Since no spies were around, he gave me a quick kiss—enough to make my heart race—then headed off to his own class.

I didn’t see Sean or Molly at all until lunchtime. Rigel and I had agreed—silently, because of that new
Echtran
“expert” in Science—that we’d talk for real at lunch, if we got the chance. Since Sean wasn’t waiting to escort me like he’d been doing lately, we walked to the cafeteria together.
 

We got our food, then Rigel went to the same table he’d sat at yesterday while I swung by my usual table to let everyone—especially Sean and Molly—know I planned to sit with him today. Instead of objecting like I expected, Sean nodded, then got up and walked part way to Rigel’s table with me.

“M, I want to let you know I won’t . . . we won’t . . . try to keep you two apart anymore,” he murmured. “No matter what our mum says. I saw how sick you got last week and how much better you are now and I, well, I can’t be part of that. Making you suffer.”