“You need to be careful about that. We don’t need scrutiny from the wardens.”
“VezirJoelle has promised to distract them. It’s what some of the revenants will be used for.”
“The wardens are one issue. Lack of a magician is something else entirely.”
Terilyn let a hint of dissatisfaction filter into her voice, and she watched how Poppy’s shoulders tightened before she forcibly relaxed. “It happened earlier this week. I sent a coded telegram to New Haven, but you must have already departed.”
“I’ll procure you another one when I return to Daijal. Unfortunately, the bargain we have with the House of Kimathi states we cannot use Solarian citizens for any part of this experiment other than as cover with the quarry work.”
“We’ll make do until the replacement arrives.”
Samuel frowned, reaching out to tap his fingers against the edge of the control panel. “How much longer will the transmutation process take?”
Poppy pulled a pocket watch from her coveralls and thumbed it open. “At least another hour for this one.”
“Plenty of time for us to go over the new blueprints.”
Terilyn had no part in that conversation, though she sat with the trio while Samuel spread the blueprints of the death-defying machine out on a worktable. The mechanics of it all were different than the alchemy she witnessed used by theKlovod. That still, to an extent, dealt with the living.
This machine only dealt with the dead.
An hour later, Terilyn stood upon the catwalk with Samuel, Poppy, and Wyatt, watching as the second set of doors to the death-defying machine’s chamber were opened.
“Wonderful, wonderful. We’ll corral these ones and ship them back to Daijal and let them loose on the eastern border. For now, no more revenants will be created until the upgrade is complete,” Samuel said as they watched the walking dead stumble about the holding pen below.
Terilyn never thought this would be her road—making a mockery of the Star Order’s teachings—but Innes had promised Eimarille a new path forward. She had faith in her queen and the Midnight Star that both would guide her true.
Six
VANYA
The ceremonial bathhouse on the star temple grounds was a place of unparalleled beauty that had washed away the sins of every emperor and empress who claimed the Imperial throne. Intricately carved white stone walls and pillars supported a golden dome painted around the base with Callisto’s constellation. Inside, the inner dome was covered in frescoes depicting daily Solarian life while the walls and floor were covered in exquisite mosaics.
The mosaics on the floor glittered from gold and pearl pieces, the color swirling up the walls into richer shades. Only one pool filled the space below the dome, its warm waters hitting waist-deep. The edges of the pool were painted gold, giving it a sun-like look.
Vanya stood in the center of the pool, scented oil and fragrant flower petals covering the water until one couldn’t see the bottom. Several acolytes from the star temple were in the water with him, heads bowed in supplication as they sang in quiet voices. Their thin white shifts had become saturated from the water they waded through as they ritualistically washed Vanya’s body clean for his coronation.
An altar made out of white marble flecked with gold and dedicated to Callisto overlooked the pool. All the oils and perfumes and other accoutrements required for the ritual cleansing were set up on the table below the shrine. A star priest stood in front of it, his strong tenor leading the prayer songs the acolytes gave voice to.
Vanya allowed himself to be turned and guided by the hands drifting over his skin, his body not his own in that moment as the ceremonial ablutions were tended to. The oil being rubbed into his skin held a scent that reminded him of his mother—floral and spice that would fade slowly. Vanya had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from asking it be washed off.
His coronation was a precisely scheduled set of ceremonies that had begun with dawn prayers at the royal family’s star temple. Vanya had then been escorted from the palace to Calhames’ main star temple for the cleansing ritual. When it was finished, he would be dressed in an elaborate set of coronation robes before being escorted into the adjacent star temple for the confirmation prayers. From there he would be driven to the Senate in the city center, where the coronation would happen.
Vanya wished the day wasn’t happening at all, so he welcomed the disruption Soren provided when the warden entered the bathhouse uninvited. The prayer song broke off at Soren’s appearance. He was followed by a frantic acolyte who bowed apologetically to the room at large.
“Forgive me, Your Imperial Highness, but I could not stop him,” the acolyte said.
Vanya hadn’t seen Soren since he walked away after the burial yesterday. He’d slept alone last night, when he’d slept at all, and had thought Soren had left without saying goodbye. A first in the years Soren had been visiting him, and one Vanya despised. He despised just as much the traitorous lurch in his chest that came with knowing Soren hadn’t left him after all.
“We need to talk,” Soren said.
“We’re in the middle of a ceremony. You shouldn’t be here,” the star priest snapped.
“Vanya gave me right of passage anywhere he is. The legionnaires had to let me in.”
Vanya tugged his arms free from the acolytes who had paused in their ministrations. “I’ll speak with the warden alone.”
The star priest opened his mouth as if to argue, but one slashing look from Vanya made him hold his tongue. The acolytes in the pool with Vanya glided toward the stairs off to the side and exited the pool. Their soaked gowns clung to their skin as they walked away, petals falling away to the tiled floor.
