I have no breath. Everything slows as if time itself has stopped.
I will what I’m seeing to be untrue. A trick of the light or my imagination. That somehow my hands will magically grasp hers, and this won’t be reality.
But it is.
Talie’s falling, and I can’t catch her.
All I hear is the sound of blood thumping in my ears, tunneling my focus. Some part of my brain knows I’m being pulled backward by my own momentum, but all I can see is Talie’s terror. Anger flashes across her face, then something else. It looks like…resignation?
Desperation hits, and I try to gauge just how far it is to the ground. If I could somehow make it down there before her—to catch her—but it’s a useless hope. I’m still hanging upside down and nowhere near a platform.
The crowd’s collective gasp is followed by shrieks of fear that draw me back to real-time, and I realize with a start that Talie has stopped falling.
I blink several times, but the vision is the same. She’s suspended in midair, her silvery gown hanging around her legs, arms outstretched, and her eyes are closed.
She’s not moving. Not falling.
I can’t comprehend what I’m seeing. It breaks every law of physics and—
In an instant, I know the truth. I know what she is. But it’s impossible…
The knowledge forces me into action. I have to get to her. I swing myself upright, something I’ve finally mastered, and gently tug on the wire of my fly bar. It’s a signal the crew will understand, and they immediately lower me.
Her body shifts, and she rotates to an upright position. Her stage-smile flashes in a way that says, Well, that didn’t go as planned, but everything will be all right folks.
Slowly, she lowers to the ground, and even that looks graceful and elegant. She’s down before I can get there, but everything is a raucous jumble of thoughts.
I was so shocked by missing our catch that I’ve forgotten all about what distracted me in the first place. My captain is at this show, hiding in the shadows of the crowd. I know the only reason he would be here is for me. I need to get out of here. But Talie…
When I’m close enough, I leap from the bar and hurry to her side. Her smile is duraplast bright, but I know it’s fake. I want to say so many things—namely that I’m sorry I dropped her—but now is not the time.
Instead, I take her hand, and we bow. Then, as she straightens, she mimics a motion I don’t understand. I school my features to not look confused but can’t help it. She makes it look like she’s detaching something, and then she tugs me to the exit.
Her fingers are ice in mine, and only when we rush off stage do I realize she’s trembling all over.
“Talie, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t.” She doesn’t look angry. She looks scared.
Roper rushes up to us. He’s in his costume, shirtless and wearing gold makeup, but he has a serious look that speaks of more than concern.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He bows before rushing away.
She watches him approach the stage, but he stops to whisper to a crew member first.
“What’s he going to do?” I ask.
“Convince the audience they didn’t see what they just saw.” Her words drip with regret.
“I’m sorry.”
“Please. Don’t.” She places fingers at her temples. “All this time,” she murmurs to herself.
“No.” My voice is firm, and she looks up. “I have to apologize. I…I dropped you.”
“You were distracted.”
“Come on.” My frustration bleeds through. Normally, I’d accept her easy-out, but I don’t deserve it. “I majorly messed up.”
“We’ll work on the routine, but I need to go now.”
I stand there, confused about what just happened. That’s it? No fire? No anger? Something is definitely wrong. She walks past me down the hall before reality slams into me. What am I thinking? I have to go after her.
She presses a palm against a door that leads to a passway. It’s the same place where we first met, and I narrowly escape the closing doors, joining her in the solitude.
“Talie, wait.”
When she stops, she doesn’t turn around, so I move to stand in front of her. That’s when I notice she’s crying. Oh gosh, not tears. Anything in the Verse but tears!
“Talie?” My voice is tentative, as if approaching a wild beast, not a beautiful girl. “What’s wrong?”
She forms a fist and turns to me, fuming. The effect is lessened by the glossy finish the tears create. “What’s wrong?” Her words snap.
Ah, there’s the Talie I know.
“You dropped me.”
This is what I deserve. The galaxy is realigning. “I did. And I’m very sorry.”
“It’s not just that, Renner.” Tears trail down in clear rivers, and I wonder if they aren’t more from anger than sadness. “You’ve endangered the circus, the crew. If Roper can’t convince the crowd…I don’t know what we’ll do.”
She spins away from me and steps to the sio-glass lining the ceiling and walls. There’s a murky planet beneath us, but the greens and browns of the land-dense topography provide little beauty.
“I’ve been so careful. I’ve never made a mistake.”
She speaks to herself more than me, but it guts me nonetheless.
“I’m sorry.” It’s inadequate. I can’t find words to express the depth of how awful I feel.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.” Her look spears me with guilt.
She turns away again, and my gaze traces her profile. Porcelain skin, dark shadow on her eyelids, silvery gray hair twisted into a braid that crowns her head. There are bits of sapphire and diamond jewelry woven into her hair, and they wink back at me.
She’s beautiful, strikingly so, and she bears a weight few can understand.
“I do know.” The words slip past my lips.
“You can’t.” She turns blazing eyes on me. They burn even as they plumb the depths of mine, searching. Polar blue and perceptive. Questioning.
“I know what you are.” My words act like a slap, and she takes a step back. She’s full of questions, and I want to answer. I want her to know that I see her. I see who she is, and I’m not afraid. “You’re one of the lost Gravless princesses.”
Her lips part.
“You’re also clearly not dead.”
She draws in a slow breath.
I press my lips together to give myself time to think. I’m way past dangerous territory now. I could be putting not only myself but Lè Fayrin and her entire network at risk, but how can I keep the truth from Talie? I’ve unknowingly stumbled into the middle of a galaxies-wide secret that has far more dangerous ramifications than what I or Lè Fayrin thought.
“You’re a far cry from the Verna System.” I rub a hand over my jaw.
“How do you know of us?”
“There’s news of your sister.” Truth bleeds from my lips.
Her already pale cheeks drain to star-white. “Impossible.”
“She was spotted in Verna.” I hesitate. I trust Talie, but there are still too many things left to chance at this point, so I hedge my words. “Recently.”
“No. That cannot be. We could never be in the same system.” Talie tilts to the side and catches herself on a bulkhead. I want to go to her but hold back. The reality of what she is—who she is—changes everything.
“How bad do you think it was?” I ask.
Her brows knit. “What do you mean?”
“Tonight. The show. Do you think Roper can…fix it?”
“I’m not sure.” Her fingers worry the material from her gown’s skirt. “I tried to make it look like I was wearing a wire—it’s something we’ve discussed before if anything were ever to happen.”
“Like an idiot dropping you from thirty meters?” My words are self-deprecating and feel too little.
“I can honestly say that scenario never crossed my mind.”
I allow the smallest of half-smiles. She believed I could do the show. She wouldn’t have gone out there with me if she hadn’t, and I had to go and drop her. Curse it all to the black. Why did I let myself get distracted? I briefly wonder where my former captain is but shove the worry aside. I’ll deal with that in a moment.
“I’m so sorry, Talie.”
“It’s going to take more than you repeating the same words over and over again, Renner.” Her tone is softer than I expect—than I deserve—but I wonder what she has in mind.
“How can I make it up to you?” I take an involuntary step. I’m drawn by the shimmering light around her, the stars reflected in her eyes.
“First of all, you’re never to drop me again.” She props a hand on her hip, and I think I glimpse the Talie I’ve come to know. Or is that the Gravless in her?
“And secondly?”
“You owe me some answers.”
My chest seizes. I should have guessed that would be her price. But I can’t betray Lè Fayrin’s confidence. “I’m not sure—”
A door at the end of the passway opens, and Talie turns toward me with a worried expression. “No one else should have access here.”
I ruefully think of my own intrusion into this passway. If you have the right tools, it’s easier to get in than she thinks. “Get behind me.”
“What is it?” She nervously licks her lips, and I force my mind away from unhelpful thoughts of kissing them to the more serious problem that will be coming around the corner in less than four-point-three seconds.
“Please. Get behind me. And whatever you do, don’t interfere.” I drink in the openness I see in her.
“Lieutenant Byrenn Car-Tai, you are under arrest by authority of the Drawxian Royal Guard under the direction of Mè Vlour Tai.”
Captain Jas Uli-Tai is broad shouldered, at least four cycles older than I am, and has dark blonde hair cut short to military precision. His focused gaze bores into me. Cold, unbending metal gray.
“No. I don’t think so.”
His smile holds no warmth at all, only ordered determination. “That’s too bad. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to kill you.”