Page 48

“She’s been in your ship for the last week. I thought I’d see more of her,” says Doman. “I thought she’d berate me about the planned test. Try to stop me.”

“She picks her moments,” I say, remembering each time I’d nearly wrangled the planets and Administrators into a vote, only for Aeris to speak up at the last moment, swaying things.

A school of iridescent fish dart away as we descend, the craft seeming to accelerate, yet there’s no turbulence as the jellyfish tendrils pulse, pulling us lower. It is as if the ocean itself has granted us passage. The watercraft has its own glowing light, and as we descend until the sun fades above, it’s like we’re a single ember in the night.

I squeeze in closer to Doman, pressing against his enormous bulk. There’s a thousand reasons why this can never work, but for now, in this moment, I turn off my mind, enjoying the sense of safety, the huge, mountainous strength of the Aurelian. I never thought I could be alone with these three. Not when I felt their auras and the ravenous hunger that is inherent to their beings.

Gallien leans forward, looking down through the transparent bottom of the ship. The glowing outline of luminescent coral greets us, and between the lights, there is a black scar, a deeper darkness. “The abyss,” says Gallien.

“I’ve never been there before. Even as Prime Minister. Etherion is… polite, yet distant to outsiders.”

“You rule over so many people. So many cultures,” says Doman.

I shrug. “I don’t rule. I’m just one vote.”

Gallien smiles from across the craft. “One vote. But yours is the one that counts.”

“Sometimes I wish that were true.”

Titus raises a brow. “A tyrant in her own right.”

“It’s true my vote is needed to finalize decisions. But if I go against a majority, it goes to a no-confidence. I’ve faced four, and each time, the voting blocs have resubmitted proposals rather than strip me of my title.”

“Ah yes,” says Gallien. “Because if they go against you, they have to call an election for a new Prime Minister.”

“Fucking politics,” growls Titus. “Just give me a sword and an enemy, and keep it simple.”

Doman goes from sitting next to me to standing in an instant, his blade activated, staring outwards at a writhing shadow against the rocks of the ocean canyon that yawns below us. An eye the size of a horse appears, pressed against the air-field, then as quickly as it came, it disappears into the darkness.

“One of the krakens,” I say, swallowing, awed by its size.

“That’s the ceremony then? Present ourselves to giant squids?” Titus has his arms outstretched against the cool, flowing material of the shuttle, but his bared left arm is taut, the muscled corded, the veins popping out against his marble skin. His thighs are flexed, thick as tree trunks, ready to join Doman’s side.

“Can’t I just ask your father’s blessing for marriage?” quips Gallien, unmoved by the behemoth that could have swallowed our shuttle whole.

Doman deactivates his blade, but he doesn’t sit. He’s no longer relaxed. He’s alert, eyes scanning the depths for any sign of movement.

I shiver, imagining the fourth ritual on Virelia. The krakens don’t bother me. They co-exist with Etherions, protecting their territories from predators, so even children can swim deep below. “That’s going to be a whole other story. You might prefer the krakens,” I say, because I’ve been avoiding the thought of facing my family. They know, of course, that I am to be wed to the Aurelian princely triad, but I’ve refused their calls, unable to look my parents in the eye.

My older brother, especially, so protective of me, who respected and supported my campaign, proud to say his little sister was fighting for us. What will he think of me, wed to the very alien species I railed against?

We quiet as we enter the abyss, the vessel so small against the sheer black face of the underwater canyon that rises up on either side of us.

“I don’t like this. Feels like the Rift,” growls Doman, his stance widening as he peers out through the shimmering air-shield into the pressing darkness of the deep waters. He is a warrior without an enemy in front of him, taut and waiting for danger.

It sends a chill through me. These three have been in that place between worlds.

“What… what’s it like? To Orb-Shift?”

Gallien’s jaw clenches. “We don’t shift. Not unless we have to.” He swallows and gets a far-off look in his eyes, his gaze fixed a foot above my head. “Each time is different. The best time is when you don’t even notice it. A little… cold water, splashing on your face, you blink, and it’s done. But sometimes… sometimes it feels like you’re seeing the birth of the universe. Sometimes it feels like you get ripped into molecules… and remade.”

“Does it hurt?”

Gallien blinks. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. Maybe it hurts so bad the mind can’t comprehend it.”

Titus leans forward, looking down through the transparent bottom of the vessel. Through the darkness, the cities of Etherion beckon us, and I don’t know if they are welcoming lights or if they are the brilliant lures of predatory fish, dangling and drawing in their prey.

The cities float like luminescent dreams within the ocean’s black embrace. Azure domes form air bubbles on the ocean floor, casting a soft glow that grows as we approach. Corridors snake between the self-contained worlds, and as we get closer, I can see the shapes of movement, the underwater domes awash with life.