“We’ve never counted,” Cora said. “How do you know about this?”

  “I told you we come from the same place.” Xiao shrugged. “Do you know what your Morning Star is?”

  “It has been passed down from the original Starfallen,” Kairk said slowly. “It is a gift that will return us to the stars when we leave this world.”

  “That is partially true,” Xiao said. “I bet I know why you think that, though.”

  “Are you calling our ancestors liars?” Cora hissed.

  “Peace,” Kairk gripped her arm tightly, unsure if it was to remind his wife he was there or to hold her back. “You have helped us. That does not mean I will tolerate disrespect.”

  Xiao held up her hands. “I meant no offense. Where I, we, come from, is a planet called Earth. Hundreds of years ago, some smart people figured out that we could leave the planet and go to other planets. But it wasn’t until we discovered Rugium, a type of rock that you call a Dawnstone, that we were able to go very far. I’m just a marine, so I don’t know how it works, but I do know it creates a hole in space that you can travel through to get to another world. And if you try to split it into smaller bits, the results can be… messy.”

  “You have your own Morning Star?” Kairk asked.

  “A much, much smaller one.” Xiao sighed. “According to the history books, we found the one you have on another planet called Pluto. Earth had too many people and not enough space, so some other really smart people found another planet they thought would be able to support life and we put a bunch of people on a ship, er, a chariot a million times the size of this one called the Mayflower and sent a billion of people on it. They went through the hole created by the Rugium, then disappeared.”

  “How do you lose something that big?” Cora asked.

  Xiao shrugged. “Space is bigger.”

  “They didn’t come back through the hole?” Kairk said.

  “Something must have gone wrong. And this,” she waved to the Chariot again, “suggests it went really wrong.”

  Kairk looked around the cavernous Chariot with new eyes. He tried to imagine his ancestor, Maxima Travani, in Xiao’s place. It seemed wrong.

  “Why didn’t they send someone else to find out what happened?” Cora said.

  Xiao winced. “Our smart people weren’t as smart as they thought. They tried to send another ship, a much smaller ship, but they didn’t find the Mayflower. The effects of the Rugium can vary wildly based on the stone, and since they didn’t have the original sample that was on the ship, there was no way to tell where it went.”

  “How’d you get here then?” Kairk asked.

  The marine shrugged.

  “Mostly luck. We’ve been making short trips for the better part of ten years. When we arrived in the system, we picked up a distress ping from the remains of the ship your ancestors came on. We got closer and found a bustling planet.”

  “One that’s doing fine without your help,” Cora said.

  Xiao smiled. “Really? Because if I remember correctly, you were about to be turned into pin cushions.”

  “It would have been better than having our souls burned by your weapons.”

  “Enough,” Kairk cut of further argument. He put an arm around Cora’s shoulders before addressing Xiao. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we can help you. Your sick could be healed. You could protect your children.” Her dark eyes danced in the dim light. “You could travel the stars.”

  Kairk glanced at Cora, who was glowering at Xiao in the flickering light.

  “And what would the cost of that be?” He asked though he thought he knew the answer.

  “To get a ship big enough for all your people, we’d need the Morning Star.”

  “Absolutely not,” Cora snapped. “You’re not getting anything with empty promises of maybe coming back for us someday.”

  Xiao shrugged.

  “I'm just telling you what it’ll take,” she said. “You’ve seen what we can do. It’s up to you to decide if it’s worth joining the rest of your species or if you want to stay on this backwater planet.”

  “This planet is our home,” Cora said. “You are a visitor. We welcomed you with open arms, shared our food, and now you insult us?”

  She took a step forward, one hand reaching for the knife at her belt.

  Kairk grabbed her wrist.

  “Not here,” he said. “You fight, do it out there.”

  He thrust his chin toward the hatch at the end of the Chariot.

  Cora’s eyes burned, and she jerked her wrist free of his hand, but her knife stayed in its sheath.

  Xiao watched, arms folded and a small smirk on her lips.

  “It’s late,” Kairk said. “We have a long trip home. Can you two avoid killing each other until then?”

  “No promises,” Cora said, eyes shooting daggers at the Xiao.

  “Just try,” Kairk said with a sigh.

  He looked at Xiao, who only nodded and raised her hands before turning sharply on a heel and striding toward the opening.

  Cora started to follow, but Kairk put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Starlight,” he whispered. “I know you don’t like her, but we can use their help. The Gentori will recover, and they’ll be back.”

  “I know,” Cora said. “But I’d rather face a thousand spears than give that demon in a woman’s body a single dawnstone.”

  Kairk sighed.

  “Just try to be civil,” he said. “We don’t know what we don’t know. Maybe there’s another way.”

  Cora jaw tightened.

  “Please?”

  He thought she was going to protest further, but her eyes softened. She reached up and cupped her hand around his cheek.

  “I’ll try,” she said. “But only because I’m so fond of my favorite idiot.”

  Kairk laughed.

  “Never pass up a chance to slide in a dagger, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t be the love of your life if I didn’t,” she said.

  Kairk kissed her. It wasn’t the most scandalous kiss they’d ever shared, but nor was it the most chaste.

  When they broke apart, he took her hand, and together they walked out of the Chariot.

  The sunset was in its death throes, lines of dark purple and blue overwhelming the last bits of orange on the horizon as they tried to escape under the clouds one last time.

  Kairk could see over the valley below, with a few fires dotting the otherwise grey-black landscape.

  The wind was cold this high up, and even though he’d been climbing through these passes his entire life, he felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

  Most of the Travani had finished paying their respects and gathered in small groups outside the Chariot.

  Kairk and Cora made their way around, the fresh snow announcing their approach to each group. For all her bluff and bluster, Cora seemed to know exactly what each person needed most. For some, it was a soft, sympathetic word. She took the small cups of Jeeva and raised a toast with others. And a few just wanted a hug.

  Kairk hung back, letting her take the lead in most groups. He never seemed to want to have the right words to say, and when he did try, there was often an awkward silence that Cora filled with whatever he should have said.

  “I hate this,” he said. “I’d rather face two thousand Gentori spears than face another orphan. You always know what they need. I just make things worse.”

  Cora looked over at him, her lips smiling sadly.

  “Two thousand?” she said. “Now you’re just showing off.”

  Kairk chuckled and shook his head.

  “I know what you mean though,” she continued, her smile disappearing. “I wish I didn’t have this much practice.”

  When they finished their circuit around the people, the sun was completely gone. The wind had picked up, and despite his layers of fur, Kairk hugged Cora closer to stay warm.

  Xiao stood on the edge of the cliff. She’d put her helmet on, the only indication that the cold air had affected her and was staring out over the valley.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said without turning as Kairk and Cora approached. Her voice had the gravelly tone Kairk had heard when they’d first met her. “I’ve been to a hundred worlds, and each one is unique.”

  She glanced up.

  “And this view never gets old.”

  Kairk looked up.

  Millions of tiny dots filled the sky. Some twinkled, a few were red or yellow, and others flashed across the black expanse then disappeared. But they were all there.

  She finally turned, the plate in front of her face went from black to clear, and soft blue lights inside the helmet lit her face.

  “Our ancestors wanted to go to the stars,” she said. “They couldn’t always see them from Earth. Even back then, there was too much pollution to see them from the cities, so they had to travel hundreds of miles to see a clear night sky. It’s worse now. Most people will never see a star.”

  “Never see a star?” Kairk whispered in disbelief. “How?”

  There was a hiss, and Xiao removed her helmet. She hooked it to her belt and ran a hand through her short hair.

  “Earth is dying,” Xiao said. “And for all our technology, our attempts to terraform the other planets in our solar system have failed.”

  “Terra what?” Cora said.

  “Change the planet to make it this,” Xiao said, gesturing to encompass everything around them. “A place where humans can live. We tried to change one planet in our system, Mars, but it was too expensive. The smart people couldn’t get it close enough where people didn’t need specialized equipment to go outside, so we could never build the infrastructure to get enough people there to relieve the stress on Earth.”

  “Why not?” Cora asked. “You have your rifles, and you claim to have built the ship that brought us here. Surely you could fix things.”

  Xiao laughed.

  “We’re much better at killing one another than fixing problems,” she said. “But then we found Rugium.”

  “The dawnstones,” Kairk said.

  Xiao nodded.

  “Suddenly, we could find places that already supported life and go there. All we had to do was build the ships. Still not a small expense, but compared to transforming a whole planet, it was minuscule. Including you, we now have two colonies.”

  “So, you already have plenty of ‘Rugium’ without ours,” Cora said.

  “We have enough for two ships,” Xiao said. “One is the colonist ship, which we still need to take supplies back and forth between Earth and Hope.”

  “And the other?”

  “The Yukon,” Xiao said. “You would not believe how much political wrangling there was over who got to be on the crew. When you’re the only other hope for finding new planets or sources of Rugium, everyone wants to make sure they have a say. The nerds fine-tuned the engines based on the limited data we got back from the Mayflower before it disappeared, then we scoured the planet for the colonists.”

  “I can imagine,” Kairk said. “I can also imagine that you’re not telling us this because you just want to give us a lecture.”

  “I think she’s trying to tell us how badly they need the Morning Star,” Cora said. “Make us feel bad for the people of ‘Earth’ for ruining their planet.”

  Xiao sighed.

  “I’m not going to lie to you; we’re desperate. We can’t split Rugium, so we’ve had to put all our eggs in one basket with the ships we’ve built. It was a huge risk to send the Yukon out, even with the data from the Mayflower. We have to be careful and can’t push the Fortune or Yukon too hard because the colony, and Earth, will likely die if they can’t share supplies.”

  “But if you had the Morning Star, you could build another and everyone lives,” Kairk said.

  “We’re talking about three billion people on Hope and another twelve billion on Earth,” Xiao said. “I know what we’re asking, so please just think about it.”

  “We have,” Cora said. “And the answer is no. We don’t know any of those people. They shouldn’t have broken their home.”

  “We’ll see if we can find a middle ground,” Kairk said. “One that helps both our people.”

  Cora glared at him, but he pulled her closer.

  “For now, let’s go home.”

  Chapter Seven

  The fresh snow made the trek down the mountain more treacherous than the ascent, and it took almost twice as long to get back. The wind wasn’t helping, as it whipped the snow over rocks and newly frozen puddles.

  Kairk breathed a sigh of relief, which he immediately regretted as the freezing air burned his lungs when he stepped off the trail and back into the village.

  The column slowly broke apart, with each family drifting back to the warmth and comfort of their homes. Most already had fires lit thanks to the neighbors who hadn’t needed to make the journey. Kairk smiled at the smell of roasted meat and stew, his heart swelling with pride at the generosity of his people.

  “Xiao,” he said as they reached the mess hall. “You are welcome to stay another night. You will be in the same cabin as before.”

  The woman bowed her head. “Thank you. Please consider what we discussed.”

  Cora’s jaw tightened as she spoke, but she remained silent.

  “We will,” Kairk said. “But I make no promises.”

  “That’s all I can ask,” Xiao said. “Goodnight.”

  She walked off, Cora watching every step like she was worried Xiao was trying to steal the dirt on the bottom of her boots.

  “Let’s go,” she said when Xiao disappeared. “I’m ready for bed.”

  “Go ahead,” Kairk said. “I’m going to check on Jawn and my father.”

  “Don’t be long,” she said. “I’m going to need my personal heater tonight.”

  Kairk laughed and kissed her forehead.

  She kissed him back, then headed toward their cabin.

  Kairk went the opposite direction, toward his father’s home. He pulled his furs tight, feeling the hatchet pressing into his side.

  He pushed the door to his father’s cabin open, and the wind immediately died down.

  The cabin was nearly identical to Kairk’s, which wasn’t a surprise since almost all of the cabins were of the same design.

  The room was warm, even though the fire had mostly burned down to embers. There wasn’t enough light to see clearly, but there was a lump on his father’s bed.

  On the opposite side of the room, Jawn snored in his fur-covered bed. There was a half-empty pitcher of Jeeva, and even in his sleep, Jawn managed to hold a wooden cup.

  Kairk walked over, biting back a curse as he bashed his shin into a wooden stool. He looked up, but the bed didn’t move. Kairk made his way more carefully to his father’s bed.

  As he got closer, he realized the lump on the bed wasn’t as large as it should have been.

  “Dad?”

  His whisper was barely audible over the howl of the wind outside and the crackling embers.

  The lump didn’t move.

  “Dad?” he said louder.

  He reached the bed and put a hand on the lump. It collapsed under his hand.

  He yanked the furs and blankets off, revealing an empty bed.

  Kairk’s eyes darted around the room, his heart starting to beat fast. Abandoning any attempt to be quiet, he rushed to Jawn’s bed and shook his brother awake.

  “Jawn,” Kairk said. “Jawn, wake up.”

  “Another round?” Jawn said. He held up his cup without opening his eyes. “Why not?”

  Kairk slapped the cup away, sending it flying and coating the wall with dark purple.

  “Wheres dad?”

  “In bed,” Jawn said. “Hey, you spilled my-”

  “He’s not there,” Kairk said. “You were supposed to be watching him. Not drinking yourself into oblivion.”

  Jawn blinked several times, his mouth working in bizarre ways as he tried to form a rebuttal.

  “Worthless,” Kairk muttered.

  He pushed out the door and back into the night.

  “Dad?” he yelled. “Pekard Travani? Dad?”

  Several people looked up at his voice, only to look one away.

  It wasn’t the first time his father had wandered off after all.

  Kairk raced up and down the street, calling for his father and hoping he'd at least had the presence of mind to dress warmly, but he wouldn’t bet on it.

  He left the relative shelter of the cabins and scanned the open ground for any tracks. Unfortunately, the light dusting of snow hadn’t sent, so any footprints had already been swept away by the wind.

  “Dad?” He yelled again.

  The rush of wind was the only answer.

  He stared out desperately at the expanse in front of him. The forest started three dozen paces from the farthest cabin, but if his father had made it that far, there would be no way to find him alone.

  Kairk dashed back into the village and burst through his own cabin’s door.

  Cora sat up in surprise, one hand holding the furs up to cover her breasts.

  “My father is missing,” Kairk said.

  Cora’s jaw dropped, but she was out of bed and pulling her furs back on a second later.

  “Where’s Jawn?” she asked.

  “Passed out drunk,” he said. He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but the look Cora gave him told him he’d failed.

  “This isn’t his fault,” she said.

  “He was supposed to watch him,” Kairk said.

  “He also lost his best friend,” Cora said as she pulled her belt tight. “And instead of honoring him at the Chariot, he had to stay back and babysit his father. Cut him some slack.”

  “And if dad dies out in the cold?” Kairk asked.

  Cora didn’t answer.

  Kairk turned and was back in the cold a moment later.

  They gathered a few other warriors that were still making their way home and formed a small search party. Kairk led them back to his father’s cabin, then split the group to cover different areas. He focused the groups on the forest around the edge of the village where he suspected his father would have wandered.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9