Starglass

and gold overhead, the sky shadowed with crows. The clock tower bells rang out. Seven in the morning. I winced at the sound—the tolling bells a reminder of the boy who pulled their ropes. I’d spilled his secret, betrayed him.

I peeled myself from Silvan’s hold. Then I went to fetch my outer layers. The fabric of my sweater felt cold against my rubbed-raw skin. All of me felt raw. Even my eyeballs hurt as I blinked away sleep.

“Going somewhere?”

I turned. Silvan was sitting up on his elbows, gazing at me. A sultry smile played on his lips.

“Some of us have work to do,” I said. I couldn’t really help it—I sounded jealous, and was. I knew that he slept in most days, tucked inside his down comforter. But Silvan didn’t mind. He only shrugged, still smiling.

“Tell the botanist I said hello,” was his only reply.

I stumbled away from him through the brambles. The day was crisp and bright, and the air held a sharpness that you find only in winter. On the lift up to the main level of the ship, a bunch of school children shoved one another and cracked jokes, but went silent at the sight of me. I couldn’t really blame them. I’m sure my eyes were shadowed, and my hair a nest of snarls.

I still had two hours before work. Not long enough to sneak in real sleep, but just enough time to slip into Mara’s little shower stall and let the hot water wash the night away. As I made my way through the districts toward her quarters, I couldn’t help but walk a little more briskly at the thought of it and the thought of wrapping myself in the warm, clean clothes that would shield me from the morning. But then I saw a figure on Mara’s doorstep, tucked against the entryway, asleep in a heavy coat and scarf.

“Ronen?” I stood at the bottom of the stairwell, staring up at him.

“Terra.” My brother blinked the sleep from his eyes. Beneath the line of his wool cap, a frown creased his brow. “What time is it?”

“After seven. What are you doing here?”

Ronen gripped the jamb with his gloved hand, pulling himself onto unsteady feet. He answered my question with a question. “Where were you all night? Oy. Our father was right. Running around without any supervision. I should have known that Mara Stone is unfit as a guardian—”

“I was with Silvan,” I cut in, my voice stern. I didn’t want to hear what my father was right about or what Ronen thought of Mara. “Silvan Rafferty. We’re intended, if you didn’t know.”

My brother stuffed his hand down into his pocket, as if that would hide his surprise. “Silvan Rafferty. The captain’s talmid? I heard rumors, but I didn’t really think—You’re marrying the next captain?”

I shrugged. Meanwhile my brother let out whooping howls of laughter, laughter that soon turned into a raspy cough in the cold air.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded.

“It’s just funny—you, the captain’s wife!” When I didn’t crack a smile or laugh back, Ronen gave a wince, concluding, at last, “Mazel tov.”

“What are you here for, Ronen?”

He staggered down the stairs, coming to stand before me. There was a time when he’d seemed insanely tall, like a skinnier clone of my father. An adult. Now he couldn’t have been more than half a head taller than I was.

“They’re sending Hannah away,” he said. “She’s to join the shuttle crew for Zehava tonight.”

“No,” I replied. “Her father’s a Council member. He wouldn’t make her join the crew. . . .”

My words died out. Of course Hannah’s father would give her up. There was no end to the Council’s villainy. Ronen frowned. “What are you talking about? She’s a cartographer. They need her. What does her father have to do with this?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Never mind. Go on.”

Ronan’s tone was sharp—reproachful. “I was going to ask you to come home with me. I need someone to help me care for Alyana.”

“I can’t, Ronen. I have my own job.”

My brother’s hand darted out. He gripped my forearm, squeezing it through my coat. There was something almost menacing in his gesture. It reminded me of my father. But his tone was sad, pleading. “Please. Just until we land. Until Hannah returns.”

Then his voice shifted, changed. Broke. For the first time in a long time, he seemed present. Not only that—for once he looked nothing like my father. His lips, furred with a hint of a mustache, were trembling. They were asking me for something. They were asking me for help.

“Okay, Ronen,” I said. The words came out coarse, choked with tears. I think we both knew that this was a death sentence. His wife might never return. But I told myself I wouldn’t cry. When had Ronen ever cried for me? “I’ll get my stuff.”

* * *

At first I moved quietly, mindful of the girl who slept in the narrow bed as I gathered my things. Into my basket I piled Pepper’s catnip mice, my work uniforms, and my pencils. I fished my sketchbook out from under Artemis’s bed. But just as I was about to turn to leave, hefting the basket in both hands, I realized something was missing.

Momma’s journal. I dropped to the floor, my legs sprawled out as I rifled through my belongings. In my head I kept a silent tally: catnip mice, dirty lab coats, a dozen pencils with the erasers chewed down, sketchbook. But I’d been right the first time. The journal was gone.

I spun around as quick as a cat, gripping Artemis by both shoulders. She let out a cry at the way my fingers dug into her arms through her nightgown.

“Mommy!” she whined. Then she opened her eyes. “Terra?”

“Give it to me!” I hissed. Artemis drew away. I couldn’t blame her. Even I was surprised by the heat in my voice. “Give me back my mother’s book!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

I knew the book had to be around here somewhere—pressed under her mattress, tucked into her underwear drawer. I dropped her down against her pillow, went to her dresser, and threw the top drawer open.

“Tell me where it is!” I growled, throwing her undershirts onto the floor. Artemis was sitting up in bed now.

“Where what is? Terra!”

I whipped my head around, scowling at her. “The book! The one with the leather cover!”

“The one you sleep with?”

I sneered. “No, the other book with the leather cover.” Artemis didn’t answer right away. She rose from bed and stumbled toward the basket.

“Isn’t it with your stuff?” she asked, then reached in and pulled out one of my lab coats. I stalked over to her and snatched the coat from her hand.

“I looked there already.”

Artemis stared up at me. Then something happened. Her chin started trembling. Tears began to streak down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Terra!” She gave a hiccuped breath. “I don’t know what happened to it. I promise I’ll find it for you!”

Once, I would have set a hand on her shoulder, drawn her to me, given her a hug. But looking at her, at how she cried like a child, I felt my stomach turn. Taking my basket in both hands, I gave my head a shake. I left her weeping, alone in her room.

* * *

The shuttle was leaving that night. I had one supper with Ronen and his family before we made our way down to the shuttle bay. Hannah did her best to act like everything was normal as we ate. She cooed at her daughter, rocking her. Then she pressed the baby into my arms. I whispered soft words, comforting words, but when I looked up, I caught worry in Hannah’s eyes. She stuffed it down, smiling at me.