I bite back a curse. I type in the code again. Nothing happens. I kick at the door, hoping the violent burst of friction will get it going. It’s an old boat, and sometimes needs extra love. But nothing happens.
I glance at Irena. Her brows are furrowed in concern. But her eyes shine still, that film of near-weeping that makes her seem so soft and sweet, pliable. Now, though, that sheen strikes me as empty. A crocodile’s tears.
‘I ought to have warned you,’ Irena says, her words falling like coins on polished wood. ‘There has been heightened solar activity since we landed. Seasonal storms. It’s common this time of year.’
I stare at her. ‘Solar flares?’
She nods. ‘None of your technology will function until the storms pass. Our radio is also down. It could last for hours, or days. We have no way to tell.’
We stand in silence for a moment, reading each other. Trying to peer through gaps in the walls. ‘And how long has this been going on?’ I ask faintly.
Irena’s eyes shine with those unshed tears, and she tilts her head just enough to catch the light, to make her gaze seem to glow in the early morning light. ‘Since sunset last night.’
So she knows. She caught me in a bare-faced lie. I consider backpedaling.Oh, wait, I forgot – I guess I did get the ping from my boss when we landed. Silly me. Butthere’s nowhere to go, so what’s the point? My ship is no longer a ship; it’s a brick until the solar storms pass. A hunk of useless metal.
Irena smiles. ‘I suppose you’ll be staying for breakfast after all.’
I smile back, empty of joy. ‘I suppose I will.’
7
To my immense relief, there is no ‘worship’ before breakfast. It’s an informal buffet style meal, with sisters drifting in and out, most taking their breakfast and leaving with it. The tables are laden with fresh bread, fruit, and butter. I grab a slice of bread and slather it with butter, taking small, forced bites. I have no appetite but I know I need to eat. After years of being practically destitute, and years of space travel, I’ve learned to eat when I have the opportunity.
Irena hovers around me, ‘helping’ with my breakfast. She pours us each a hot drink that smells like strong tea and invites me to sit with her. I had wanted to spend my breakfast alone in my hut, deciding what to do next. But she seems to want to keep me close, and while her watery eyes are starting to make my skin crawl, her zealous care starting to feel more like an act than genuine affection, I have no rational reason to refuse her.
I remember the way her eyes shone outside my ship, the tilt of her head when she quietly caught me in a lie. It was like a bird watching a worm crawl out of the wet soil.
Irena has been nothing but kind to me.
But I don’t know how long that will last.
After breakfast, she announces she’ll give me a tour of the village. I wonder what exactly this tour entails. There’s not much village to show me; I’ve already seen it all, as far as I can tell. But with a belly full of bread and strong tea, I let her lead the way out of the dining hall. She shows me Cadence’s hut, and hers, and introduces me to every sister we pass on our tour. I forget their names immediately.
The sun angles through dissipating fog, bathing the landscape in an ethereal haze. I’m finally warm after the hot tea at breakfast, and our vigorous walk. In a moment of thoughtless ease, I turn my gaze upward, past the bell tower, up toward the steep forested mountainside. I frown, even as relief washes over me. It’s not there. The ruin is not there.
Was I really dreaming?
But then the fog drifts, and the sun cuts through, and I see it. Morning-drenched, dark stone. A structure far more complex than any in the village, all half-crumbled buttresses and empty arches, reaching skyward like unearthly stone fingers. My heart shudders.
‘Irena. What is that?’ I point.
She looks at me, rather than the direction of my gaze. ‘What do you see?’
‘There.’ I jab my finger toward the ruin. But the clouds shift again, and the structure is gone.
Irena finally turns her gaze upward, following my outstretched finger. Her brows furrow. ‘I see the mountains, cloaked in fog. It will be cold in those trees, and dark. Stay away from the forest, Midonia. It’s dangerous there.’
I exhale an exasperated breath. ‘But I saw something. A ruin of some kind.’
She takes my hand in hers, patting it, a motherly gesture. ‘It’s nothing special. Not worth seeing. A leftover artifact from some long-gone civilization.’
‘But that’s … that’s insane,’ I say, unable to contain myself. ‘A long-gone civilization? You should study it! You could –’
‘The ruin is forbidden.’ Irena’s gaze is steely.
‘Why?’
‘It is dangerous.’ She doesn’t elaborate.
