Page 67 of The Cerulean Sister
"Well, let me know if you find anything interesting. Sorry, I didn't mean—" I interrupt myself with a long gulp of too hot tea.
"No, it's ok. Like I said, I needed something to read and then I found some rituals I thought I might try and learn."
She made sure to say rituals, not spells this time.
I smile at her and nod. I must be disorientated from traveling between worlds because now I am not only having visions of 99 in the corners of my eyes but also over analyzing simple conversations.
"Are you worried about seeing your sister?" Calliape’s voice is a little high-pitched, like she is trying to change the subject to anything else.
The question makes me sit up a little straighter before I answer, "Oh, honestly yes."
"When was the last time you spoke to her?" August asks and then winces a little, like maybe he should not have.
"It's ok. It's no secret. My sister hasn't spoken to me in a few years, a concept I am sure you are not familiar with," I tease, hoping to convey he has not offended me.
"Ha! I have been on the receiving end of my fair share of the cold shoulder. At any time, at least half of us are not talking or in an argument." He gets a dreamy look on his face every time he speaks about his family.
I love seeing it and wonder how it compares to my expression when I speak of my sister and if he can see the hurt written there instead.
"But I can't imagine if I knew one of them was in danger," he continues. "If they were, any argument or grudge wouldn't matter. It's a different kind of love with sisters maybe. When you're not together, it feels like there's a big, empty hole through your gut, like part of you is missing." He shrugs as if he said nothing at all.
I blink away my watery eyes, hoping he doesn't notice. When I look at Calliape, she is staring at him like she wishes he would continue speaking this way.
He clears his throat and crosses his leg to appear more casual.
"I think I am more worried about finding evidence of corruption before time runs out," I confess, trying not to think too hard on the subject of seeing Leema again.
Calliape touches the top of my hand, likely seeing distress written on my face. "I will help anyway I can."
"I know you will. You always do," I assure, trying to express just how much I appreciate her.
August leans back in the metal chair, having finished his food. "I would not be delivering you back to Cosima if you didn't have countless people believing you could do this, Ferren." He sits forward again quickly. "You think 99 would let you go if he didn't think you could do this?"
My chest aches from hearing someone else express how 99 sees me.
"I think 99 didn't want me to go through the same guilt as he does with his family," I say.
Calliape nods her head in agreement. She knows firsthand how it affects Allister; living so close to him has given her a unique perspective of that history.
"Oh, it's that too, but if it was just that, he would have kept fighting the lord general on going himself and ordered us to stay."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"I shouldn't." August smiles in a teasing pause, feigning secrecy. "When we left Cosima for home, he spoke of how capable you are, how strong. He is determined not to control you like the temple has, constantly keeping his overbearing urge to protect you in check."
What I thought was a straightforward connection between his family and my sister is more deeply rooted in my relationship with 99 and how he loves me. How he has shown that he trusts me, listens to me even if it goes against his protective instincts so much that he has to leave and walk around the capital all night just to clear his head.
Or the many times he has asked if it was ok that he assigned guards to me, hoping I wouldn't take offense to extra protection, knowing I have my light as defense when he is not there.
I hate that I still can't fully comprehend his depth of feeling. It makes me resent the temple even more for keeping countless connections I could have made at bay, not allowing me to look side to side at my priestess sisters to learn love and friendship, only ahead to statues and the highest to tell me how to feel, to implant thoughts and emotions that I did not form on my own.
Our journey takes about half the time because of the conjunction and the positions the planets are now in. Lining themselves up closer every day makes for faster travel between worlds, a bittersweet fact that allows for less overthinking but also less time to get my head in the right place.
On the last day of travel, August announces we will be arriving at Cosima by the evening. I dress in my priestess gown, forcing myself to get used to the feel of it on my skin again, practicing the calm, precise movements I will have to embody. My back hurts from keeping it ramrod straight as I practice, and it's not until I notice I keep snagging my gown on chairs that I realize just how different and relaxed my body has become since living on Viathan.
It is silly to saunter around the ship in a priestess gown, but it could be the difference between going unnoticed or piquing a temple member's interest enough to question me. I need to blend in, be utterly invisible again.
When a soft chime plays throughout the ship, notifying its inhabitants to report to the cockpit and prepare for our arrival, my stomach drops.
