For Darkness Shows the Stars (17 page)

H
IS EYES SEEMED TO
bore right through her again, and Elliot had to ball her hands into fists to keep them from trembling. Had she been wrong last night, at the party? Had they always been like this? In her myriad memories of Kai, why could she not recall the strangeness in his clear black eyes? Was it the stark comparison between the handsome captain he was now and the grimy mechanic she’d once loved? Or was it that now she feared meeting his eyes and seeing his hatred and disdain of her reflected in their depths?

“I’m sorry I implied that Elliot doesn’t care about the Posts on her property.”

As apologies went, his was pretty pale, yet her name on his tongue warmed her more than the morning sun. Where everything had changed, this at least was the same. Three syllables, and three thousand memories.

But Kai wasn’t done. “It was wrong of me to say that, and it’s untrue. I think she cares about them very much.”

For a moment, she thought he’d say more and braced herself for the inevitable put-down. But it never came, as he turned toward the sound of sun-carts approaching. A moment later, Andromeda and Donovan crested the hill with Olivia and Horatio in the passenger seats.

“We’re going to the dunes,” Olivia announced when they arrived. “I’d like to take advantage of the weather before it gets cold again.”

“You mean you’d like to take advantage of the Fleet’s sun-carts on the dunes,” Horatio corrected.

Olivia blushed, very prettily, but recovered herself quickly. “Malakai, you must come along. And Elliot, too.”

“I have work,” Elliot said automatically. She could happily live out the rest of her days without serving as witness to Olivia and Kai’s courtship.

“We all have work,” said Horatio. “Except for my sister, lady of leisure that she is. She’s a bad influence.”

Olivia laughed, and Elliot reminded herself again that the girl was not to blame for the pain in her heart.

“Come have a picnic with us,” Horatio said. “You left our party so quickly yesterday that I didn’t even get the chance to dance with you.”

“You expect to dance on the dunes?”

Horatio chuckled. “I’m going instead of tending to my farm. If you don’t come, you’ll make me look bad.”

His farm was not in such desperate shape. He had no broken tractors, and he had plenty of Posts to fill in when he wanted a day off. But Elliot would never say that aloud. She was still a North, and had too much pride for that.

“Go,” said Dee. “The dairy is running smoothly, and I can’t think of anything else that needs your hand this afternoon.”

Elliot narrowed her eyes. “You’re trying to get rid of me so I can’t protest your move.” She had half a mind to appeal to Kai on the issue—she knew he hated the birthing house as much as she did. But when she turned to him, he’d already draped his hands on the overhead rails of the sun-cart that carried Olivia and leaned down to listen to her. His attention was not on Elliot or Dee, or the concerns of the North estate. She couldn’t expect him as her ally.

“Should we invite Tatiana?” Olivia asked.

“Tatiana’s busy this morning,” Elliot said. “She’s entertaining my cousin, who came to the estate with my father last night.”

Kai stiffened. “Benedict North has returned to the estate?”

“Do you know him?” asked Horatio. “We’ve never met, but I hear he’s been living in a Post enclave.”

Kai’s forehead furrowed, and his glance in Elliot’s direction was so quick she almost missed it. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

“We don’t have enough room in the carts,” Andromeda said firmly. “Come on, let’s go.”

Perhaps Andromeda wasn’t so bad, Elliot thought. She was saving her from having to spend the day with her sister.

In a few minutes it was all decided, and they set off for the dunes. Donovan was letting Horatio drive his cart, and Elliot joined their party, while Andromeda climbed in the back of her cart to let Kai take the driver’s seat next to Olivia. It was only once they were on the road that Elliot realized there were two extra seats. No doubt Andromeda didn’t want to be outnumbered by Luddites.

The dunes lay to the north even of the Boatwright estate, where the island grew thin and pointed like an arrow into the vast expanse of the sea. There was nothing but beach out here—no houses, no fields, no sign of civilization at all. In ancient times, this beach had been preserved as a religious artifact. The original settlers of the island had deemed it a home for the spirits, but no one believed that anymore. Indeed, wild places were the only ones truly free of spirits. All the real ghosts lived farther south, in the shells of the burned-out cities that had once belonged to the Lost. The Boatwright house and the shipyard was the closest anyone had gotten to building out here. The Boatwright family kept the cliffs mostly pristine in reverence of an ancestry that stretched back long before the Reduction.

“What beautiful country,” Donovan said. “It reminds me very much of some of the wild islands we discovered on our explorations.”

“That makes sense,” said Elliot. “Once upon a time, these lands were home to herds of wild horses. Was this what it looked like on the island where you found the Innovation horses?”

Donovan looked at his hands. “I was not on that particular voyage. It was from . . . before I joined the Fleet.”

“Still, you must have seen many spectacular sights. Things no one else has witnessed in hundreds of years.”

“Yes,” Donovan replied, his tone stiff, and too late, Elliot remembered his song from the concert. He had seen them, and he now regretted every moment he’d spent away from Sophia.

“That was a very beautiful song you gave us last night,” she said. “I am told that . . . I am very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” said Donovan. “There are days that go by now where I’m fine. Where I believe that everything is better, and I can go through my day without thinking of her every second. But it’s almost worse after that. For then, when the memories do return, they bring with them remorse for having ever forgotten her.”

“You haven’t forgotten her,” Elliot said, “just because a few minutes or days or eventually weeks go by without having your grief in the forefront of your thoughts. She wouldn’t like it if you dwelled only on your sadness.”

“You say this from experience in loss?” Donovan replied.

“Yes. I lost my mother four years ago.” And she’d also lost Kai. Neither person had been far from her thoughts in the ensuing years. But Kai had lingered more, because she knew he was out there somewhere. Her mother only lived in her heart. “And I try to honor her memory by doing what I know she would have done had she survived. But if I ever forget her, momentarily, I don’t berate myself when I am reminded. She can’t be the only thing I ever think of, or I’d be catatonic, as unable to cope as I was the day I lost her.”

“Ah, there you have it. I
am
unable to cope. I am not a credit to the Cloud Fleet at present. I write sad songs, but I haven’t been working much on our ship.”

“You will move past this,” she said.

He gave her a pitiful smile. “I don’t think so. Your mother, I am sure, was taken before her time, but she was a grown woman. She had made a life, she had grown children in you and your sister. Sophia died so young—all of her potential was wasted.”

“And would she be happy to see you wasting yours?” Elliot asked. “I didn’t know her, but I have heard she was a great fan of the future. She wouldn’t like you to think only of the past.”

Donovan laughed mirthlessly. “Elliot, you sound nothing at all like a Luddite when you say things like that.”

“Perhaps I do not have a very Luddite outlook,” she said. “But I am serious. You must continue to live your life, and remember her with fondness, not with guilt. You were not meant to think always and only of the person you have lost. That is not the way the human mind was meant to operate.”

Donovan looked up at the flawless expanse of sky above their heads. “Perhaps I do not have a very human mind.”

Dear Elliot,

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone. I don’t want to stay here anymore. I’ve been here for my whole life—all eleven years—and I’ve had it. I don’t want to live and die on this farm like I’m one of the Reduced. I don’t want to work on your father’s stupid tractors. I want to read more books. I want to see more places. I am going away and I’m going to see the world. I heard there are places where there are Posts like me—Posts that don’t live on Estates and work for Luddites. I want to be one of those.

I know I will miss my da, and I know I will miss you. Don’t miss me too much. Take care of Ro. Maybe someday I’ll come back and visit, and we can go see the stars like you said.

Your friend,

Kai

Dear Kai,

Please don’t be mad. I had to tell someone. It’s not safe for you to wander off the Estate. Ever since Benedict left, all I hear are horrible stories about the things that happen in those Post enclaves. Bad things. I can’t imagine them happening to you. And I can’t bear the thought of you leaving, either. I can’t be without you, and neither can Ro.

Your father promised me he wouldn’t punish you. I only told him, you know. It’s not like I told mine! Please don’t be mad at me. Pretty please. I couldn’t bear it.

Your friend (I hope!),

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

It doesn’t matter anyway. Apparently I’m too stupid to even realize which way is north and which is south. The problem is you can’t see the stars in the daytime. I accidentally went north, and the land ran out. There’s nothing but cliffs up there and towers of rock sticking out of the sea. It looks like there used to be bridges that connected the towers to the mainland, but they’re all gone now.

Do you know anything about them? Since I’m not running away anymore, do you want to go see them with me? I’ll think about forgiving you if you do.

Your friend (maybe),

Kai

Dear Kai,

Sure I’ll go with you. I know the towers you mean. They were formed when the sea ate away at the cliffs. It apparently happened long ago, before even the Reduction. But the towers have been getting longer ever since, as the sea eats more and more of the land.

My mother says the bridges fell when she was still a young girl, and my grandfather decided it was too dangerous to try to rebuild them. I don’t know who built them the first time. Perhaps it was a Luddite who was desperate to catch a glimpse of the rest of the world.

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

Maybe it wasn’t a Luddite. Maybe it was a Post who built the bridges so he could escape to the North, to his own piece of land, untouched by the Luddite lords.

Your friend,

Kai

Dear Kai,

I have hidden your last letter. Be careful what you write to me!

Your friend,

Elliot