Page 102 of Above
His chest was rising rapidly, his eyes flicking in panicked strokes across the hall until landing on me and steadying.
“Of course you’re here,” he huffed, running a hand through his pale hair, putting more blood into the silvery strands. “You’re always here to see me when I’m at my lowest.”
“It’s not like I want to be,” I shot back. “I’d rather not see you at all.”
“For your sake, I hope that’s true.”
“I’d never lie to you of all people.”
His brows rose, a curious look in his eyes. “Why? Too fond of me?”
“Don’t care enough to put in the effort it takes to lie, actually.”
He laughed, letting his head fall back for a moment, then slamming his door behind him when I tried to peek in. What was he doing?
“Are you okay?” I asked. Why, I didn’t know. I never knew or understood when it came to him. I didn’t care about Altair. So I shouldn’t wonder. Still, I did.
“You know, I had a much better plan,” he said instead of answering. As always, he spoke in riddles and unfinished sentences.
“Plan for what?”
“You,” he responded, smiling sardonically as my eyes widened.
I felt my hands instinctively grip the door handle. Not that the wards could protect me from him. He’d already proven that.
“This morning, I was reading over the first letter your mother ever sent me. It wasn’t the only one, but for some reason, it just felt special.”
I balked at him, astounded by this turn in conversation. It seemed everyone was taking me by surprise today.
“It felt like hope in a way, especially with all the failure I have been experiencing. So I like to read it just to remind myself that someone out there is nice and good. I thought to myself,maybe there’s another way. Maybe we were wrong to think the way we did about you.Because there was a person who wasn’t being paid to care for me, or dote on me, or compliment me. Someone who hasn’t been raised as I was or taught like I was. Yet, she was kind and gentle and giving when even my own family was not. And I had the blasphemous thought that maybe you’re not unworthy after all.”
“Dangerous line of thinking,” I said, unable to stop myself. I could sense that this was about to take a bad turn, but I felt rooted in the spot, like I was a tree growing from the ground and Altair was the nutrients I begrudgingly needed. The sunlight that would eventually burn me.
“Well, the stars punished me pretty quickly. I did have a better plan for you, though, even if just for a fleeting moment. Not sure if that counts for much.”
“Depends on what the new plan is,” I said with a shrug.
He laughed ironically, shaking his head. “No new plan, Tershetta. It seems like the old is all I’ve got, I fear.”
When he took a step toward me, I stepped back into the door, convinced that the stars wouldn’t save me a second time. If he wanted to, he could kill me. That much I knew.
Instead of striking, attacking, or even spitting biting words, he just stepped in front of me and grabbed onto another one ofmy curls, toying with it but staring in my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Little Void.”
“For what?”
“You’ll see.”
A cloud of darkness took him away, his words unsettling me. Though I very rarely found myself in need of formal prayer, I couldn’t help but let go of the door and shadow walk directly to the Ether Cathedral.
My eyes didn’t stall on the immense, castle-like structure. Instead, I rushed in, taking quick steps toward the many benches before the altar, which was a towering sculpture of the first Altair being awarded the stars’ essence, a burst of silver light behind the immense pale general. Above that was an organ, large swirls of black and silver decorating the wooden beams and borders. I sat in the center row, wanting the best possible view of the stars that shone through the glass ceiling above, the walls around me decorated in moldings of constellations and soft painted depictions of our celestial rulers in their vast sky.
When I was settled in, I looked up. They had shown me time and time again that I was worthy of their gifts, but they also made sure to stop me from ever using them in the ways I wanted. All I truly sought from them now were answers.
“Please, talk to me. Help me understand why you’ve chosen me. Give me a path forward. Something. Anything.”
Silence, other than the strange hum of mumbles and whispers at the back of my mind, was my only companion. Groaning, I squeezed my eyes shut and clasped my hands together, focusing. More formal maybe?
“Celestial rulers—our dark conquerors—please aid me in my journey. Guide me across this winding path. Lead me not into the light, but within the darkness.”
