I think of Callisto.
A nymph, taken against her will by a god who called it love. Changed into a bear for the crime of being desired. Alone, she bore her son in the woods. And when he grew, he raised his bow, not knowing the beast before him was his mother. Just before the arrow flew, Zeus transformed her into starlight. Into Ursa Major.
Her stars point the way to the North Star. For generations, the lost have followed that fixed light in the sky toward salvation.
Hold fast, I tell myself. You, too, will be transformed. Your suffering will not go unrewarded.
I repeat the words silently, like a prayer, over and over, until Joseph’s body collapses against mine. His sweat clings to my skin, his breath ragged. He tugs the nightgown down over my legs, then rolls onto his back.
Silence returns at last.
And finally, I let myself breathe.
Chapter 2
ALICE
Cold, slick fabric clings to my fingers as suds slip in rivulets down my wrists. The rhythm of scrubbing and rinsing merges with the cicadas’ song, rising and falling with the breeze. Footsteps shuffle behind me. Gideon, the porter’s son, approaches, hands clasped behind his back. “Miss Alice,” he says, his too-short trousers revealing his skinny ankles.
He lifts his hands. Nestled there is a smooth stone threaded with crystalline veins. “I found this by the creek,” he says. “It’s for you.”
I take the stone, feeling its cool weight in my palm with a smile. His chest swells.
“This is lovely, Gideon. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Alice.”
I pat the spot next to me, and he sits eagerly.
“Mr. Sherman said the astrometers are coming back. Did you hear?”
“Astronomers,” I correct gently. “And yes.”
“It’s a big group of ’em, I heard.”
“Mmm.” I wring water from the linens, scrubbing them against the board. “They’re visiting to study the night sky from the tower. There’s talk of a comet passing soon.”
His mouth parts, eyebrows springing up. “Ain’t never seen no comet before.”
I hold up the stone. “They’re made of rocks just like this, traveling through space around the sun.”
“No kiddin’.” He pauses. “You got anything inside that needs mendin’?”
“Not today. Don’t the horses need tending to?”
He tugs the hem of his trousers, as if he could coax them longer. “I ain’t been near the stables much.”
“Why not? You love the horses.”
“The new hand. Lucas. He’s been…teasin’ me, ’bout m’trousers and other stuff. Pa says if I don’t stand up to him, I’ll be picked on my whole life. I want to, Miss Alice. It’s just…he’s so much bigger’n me.”
“Well, if he lays a finger on you, tell me, and I’ll straighten him out.”
He grins at that, then leans in. “Lucas don’t know nothing about your supplies. I hid ’em good.”
My heart tightens with gratitude, and unease.
“Where?”
