Chapter 2

Rain, High Priestess of the Sisterhood of the Light

“Oh, Merrick, look. There she is. She’s so perfect. She looks just like a…” My mind goes blank, the way it does when I’m excited. Thankfully, that doesn’t happen very often: the blankness or the excitement.

Maybe it’s due to the drugs they gave me to help my body adjust to the much higher gravity here on the Caelestis. The space station is set to Askkandian gravity, which is more than twice that of my home planet, Serati. All I know is I’ve never felt this heavy before, like I’m fighting through mud with every step I take.

Then again, that could just be my nerves. Of all the places I’d ever imagined standing, here on this space station isn’t one of them. Not just because its mission—stopping the sun from exploding—goes against everything it’s pretty much my job to help bring about, but because high priestesses don’t usually do this sort of thing.

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘princess,’ High Priestess.” Merrick’s tone is dry, but then, it’s always dry. I think sarcasm is his second calling, right behind being my bodyguard.

“Maybe so, but how am I supposed to know that? It’s not like I’ve ever seen a real live princess before.” It’s not like I’ve seen much of anything before. But that’s not Merrick’s fault.

It’s no one’s fault, really. It just is.

The princess glides to the top of the ramp, and I push up on my tiptoes to get a better look at her. She’s tall, really tall, and though I tell myself that it doesn’t matter, I can’t help being a little jealous.

Not of her tiara or her amazing dress but of her long, willowy height.

I know high priestesses aren’t supposed to care about their looks, and most of the time I don’t. But every once in a while, being the shortest person in any room I’m in really stinks.

Today it stinks more than usual. Partly because I’m lost in the crowd and partly because in every glimpse I manage to get of her, the princess looks perfect. Regal. Serene. Confident.

I’d really like some of that serenity—and that confidence. Both are hallmarks of every high priestess the Sisterhood has ever had. Until me.

The princess floats toward the dais, her feet barely touching the ground. As people lean forward, eager to get a glimpse of her, I realize Merrick and I will soon be face-to-face with her. “Merrick?”

“Yes, High Priestess?”

“What do I call her again?”

He sighs, and in it I hear all the disappointment he doesn’t voice. But he doesn’t have to. I get that I’m a trial and a tribulation to him most days, but I also suspect that deep down, he cares about me. “If she addresses you directly—and let’s all send up a special prayer that doesn’t happen—then you must call her Your Highness.”

His words momentarily quash my excitement at being here. In the same room as the princess, yes, but also here on the space station, so far from the only place I’ve ever lived. Home.

But then the energy of this place—of these people—has my blood fizzing in my veins. “Got it. And, Merrick—?”

Another sigh. “We went through all of this on the flight. You should have been paying attention.”

“I know. But I was in space, Merrick. In actual space.” And I wanted to know how everything worked. I think I annoyed the poor pilot with my incessant questions.

But what does Merrick expect? I’ve spent my entire nineteen years of existence in the monastery on Serati. And except for this one trip, it’s likely where I’ll spend the rest of my life—as all the high priestesses do. So I intend to make the most of it.

“Don’t curtsy,” he tells me, and I glance over at him as he smooths a large hand down the front of his white robes. “It’s not required of an ambassador, and for the love of the Dying Sun, do not touch her. That’s punishable by death. Just remember you’re representing not only the Sisterhood but the planet of Serati.”

How could I possibly forget? My own importance has been drilled into me every day of my life.

Though I’m honestly still scrambling to believe that I’m here. I shouldn’t be. But at dinner four nights ago, the ambassador who was supposed to go— I cut off the thought before the picture of her choking and foaming at the mouth forms in my brain yet again.

She was poisoned, Merrick says. By someone who hates the Sisterhood, obviously. And someone who wanted her to suffer.

Even after what happened to that poor woman, I didn’t think I’d be selected for this trip. As high priestess and the second-ranking person in the Sisterhood’s hierarchy, I know I’m important—to the Sisterhood and my planet. But I don’t normally play an active role in anything. I just…wait. And have faith. And when the time is right, I’ll… Well, no one actually knows that bit. Or if they do, they haven’t shared it with me yet.

Still, all will eventually be revealed.

Or not.

Like each of the high priestesses before me, I’ll likely die not knowing, then be reborn to live this life again.

Except, for the first time, that might not be true.

Merrick says we’re in unprecedented times. My spiritual advisors tell me everything is different now.

Because the time of the Dying Sun is upon us. It began nearly twenty years ago. At first there were only a few signs of instability, mainly solar flares, but as the years passed, our sun began changing color—first orange, now tinged with red. Plus, it’s expanding, causing system warming that is—at the moment, anyway—mainly affecting the inner planets. Serati was always hot, but now it’s seriously hot.

Despite the downsides, it’s been an exciting time for the Sisterhood, with a record number of new members. Unfortunately for me, that excitement hasn’t managed to extend to the monastery.

But thoughts of rebirth remind me of something. “Did you know we’re both from Askkandia?” I ask Merrick.

It’s unusual for a high priestess to come from anywhere but Serati. I’m apparently an anomaly, but the portents were all in place. When the old high priestess dies, another is reborn. And there are all sorts of signs and precursors that guide the Sisterhood to the new priestess. In this case, those signs guided the Sisterhood to me.

“Me and the princess,” I clarify.

“Yes,” Merrick replies shortly. But then, Merrick knows everything.

“And we’re both nineteen?”

“I’m aware of that as well.” He jerks his chin toward the princess. “Now pay attention.”

Merrick’s watching everyone carefully. He’s a warrior priest and has been my bodyguard for the last four years. Though honestly, it’s a pretty cushy job. He’s trained to fight, but it’s not like there are a lot of threats in a monastery. Except poison, but that’s a very new development. A four-day-old development, to be exact.

Ever since that night, he’s been eating a bite of my food and drinking a sip of my drink before I ever get to touch it. Bodyguard and poison tester now.

No wonder he’s in a bad mood.

Plus, this gathering is a whole different situation, and he’s been distracted since we got the news. I can’t decide if it’s because he’s worried about protecting me or if he’s just wondering why I, of all people, was chosen to be the ambassador from Serati.

Of all the people on our planet, how could the Sisterhood really think I should be the one to replace Ambassador Frellen when she died? Surely there was someone more suitable for the job. Someone who was actually trained in the protocols of the Ruling Families.

I don’t even look Seratian.

The people from Serati, where Merrick was born, are unique—they’ve adapted over the generations to cope with the planet’s less-than-ideal conditions of high heat and low gravity, not to mention off-the-charts levels of radiation. While I’m short, with pasty white skin, Merrick is tall and quite thin. His skin is tanner than mine because he’s outside more, but it also has faint silver lines in a beautiful swirling pattern that is common to all people of Serati, as it helps keep them cool in the brutal temperatures. He has narrow, slightly tilted eyes with dark black irises to cope with the radiation, and his hair is platinum blond.

He’s very striking, and I always feel insipid standing next to him.

At least our trip has taken his mind off his other issues. Merrick’s father died recently, and it hit him very hard. I sense they were close, though he’s never spoken to me about his family.

I turn my attention back to the side of the dais just as the princess is ascending. She doesn’t even climb stairs like a normal person—she seems to float majestically up them.

I think I have a crush.

As she moves closer to us, I glance around at the other delegates. They’re so colorful, like the exotic flying creatures from the rain forests of Ellindan. I sigh and peer down at my ugly white robes. I know it’s beneath me—my mind is obviously meant for higher things—but the fact is, I long for color.

Plus, it’s just one more thing that separates me from them, as if our belief systems weren’t enough.

I know from my reading—I read a lot; there’s not much else to do in the monastery—that each delegation is decked out in a different color, as dictated by tradition. Blue, green, purple, red, yellow, orange, and white. Of course, only members of the Ruling Families are allowed to wear these colors. The workers’ guild wears browns and grays. The technicians who work for the Corporation wear black.

Mingled with all the color are the black-and-gray uniforms of what I presume are the station’s security officers. There are a lot of them about. Are they expecting trouble? Maybe that’s why Merrick is so tense.

We’ve all been standing on this dais in the center of the docking bay for an hour now, lined up in order of the farthest to the nearest planet from Serai, our sun. First, the outer planets of Glacea, the farthest, then Vistenia, Askkandia, Ellindan. Then the inner planets: Permuna, Kridacus, and finally, Serati—where I live. Serati is the only planet not governed by one of the Ruling Families. It’s run by the Sisterhood. Obviously there’s no one here from the outermost “dead” planets of Tybris and Nabroch—they’re too cold and inhospitable to support human life.

At the very end of the line, dressed in a long blue coat trimmed with fur, is the delegate from Glacea. He’s short, even shorter than me, like most Glaceans, and has a lot of hair to protect him from the cold. He smiles, showing really sharp teeth, and his taupe skin is chapped and peeling from the wind and freezing weather. The princess nods back and speaks briefly, then moves on.

See, Rain, not so scary. You can do this.

For a second, I imagine how our exchange will go. She’ll smile at me, her eyes a kindly silver—I love silver—warming as they meet my plain brown ones. She’ll ask me a question about Serati, and I’ll dazzle her with an answer that makes those same eyes widen in surprise. Her smile, already more than polite, will grow more interested and—

“Pay attention,” Merrick hisses again.

I sigh, but to show that I heard him, I stand up so straight that my back muscles hurt a little bit in all this dense gravity. It’s not nearly as much fun as my imaginary life, but I’ll admit, finally getting to see people from all across the seven inhabited planets is pretty fascinating.

The next in line is the delegate from Vistenia, Glacea’s nearest neighbor and the main grain producer in the system. The ambassador is a tall, blond woman with pearlescent skin and the large eyes with big pupils so common on her often dark planet. She’s dressed all in green and reminds me of the graceful gala lilies that bloom on Vistenia only one month of the year.

“Your Highness,” she murmurs.

The princess nods more warmly this time. “Ambassador Terra, I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

Then Askkandia, in purple like the princess.

And so it goes.

She greets the ambassador from Ellindan, who’s dressed in a tight-fitting red jump suit only a few shades darker than her copper skin. The ambassador flashes a showy smile—I’ve heard that everyone from Ellindan has red teeth, stained from drinking too much akara juice, and it’s fascinating to see that’s true. To me, it’s not exactly a good look, but apparently everyone on Ellindan is super proud of it. Plus, the juice is addictive enough that they’d probably deal with it regardless.

The princess is getting closer, and I can feel my muscles tensing up. It will be my turn soon.

Don’t touch her. No matter how kind her silver eyes look smiling into yours, don’t so much as skim a finger along her cape. Princesses aren’t to be touched.

Although the closer she gets to me, the more I wonder if she really will be kind. Or if she’ll be upset that I’m here because of who I am and what my religion believes.

The fifth delegate is from Permuna, the first of the inner planets. He has a barrel chest and large ears like most Permunians and is dressed in long robes the yellow of the desert sands of his planet. The skin around his eyes is darker than the rest of his face. I glance down and see his hands are the same color.

Apparently, from an early age, they dye those exposed areas to avoid sunburn, until the dye becomes a permanent mark. It looks like he’s wearing a mask, and it makes his yellow eyes stand out even more. They seem like the eyes of a predator, but I read that the color is a side effect of a diet rich in starburst cactus, one of the only plants that grow prolifically on Permuna.

The ambassador doesn’t look happy. His eyes are narrowed, his lips pinched, and his hands clench into fists as he steps forward to meet the princess. In a blink, a huge man with sepia skin and close-cropped gray hair in purple-and-black body armor moves between them—the princess’s bodyguard, presumably—and I feel Merrick tense beside me.

“Stand down!” The princess’s command is nearly inaudible, but it freezes her bodyguard in his tracks. It’s a neat trick—one I wish I had in my repertoire. Then again, bodyguard or not, Merrick doesn’t listen to anyone but himself.

“Speak, Ambassador Holdren,” the princess says.

“Your Highness, I wish to ask, on behalf of the people of Permuna, why the last two grain deliveries have been rescheduled. My planet is running short; people are going hungry. I—”

The ambassador from Vistenia steps forward. “I hardly think this is the time or the place, Holdren.”

“I think it’s exactly the time and the place. We were promised the deliveries would not be interrupted. And now—”

I watch, fascinated, but the princess holds up her hand and the ambassador stops speaking immediately. “I’m sorry for your hardship, Ambassador. I will bring this matter to the Empress’s attention when I return.”

“You think she doesn’t know?” His voice is bitter, irreverent, and an answering murmur runs through the increasingly tense crowd. It also causes the princess to raise her brows, but in surprise or arrogance, I can’t quite tell.

Merrick moves in front of me, and though I want to push him out of the way, I understand why he’s nervous. While Serati is tightly controlled by the Sisterhood and we hold ourselves separate from the other planets, even in the monastery, I’ve heard rumors of unrest among our neighbors. For decades now, the temperatures in the system have been rising and the agricultural productivity declining. Frequent solar flares are wreaking havoc with communications, and the exponential warming is making parts of the inner planets completely unlivable.

Our scriptures tell us that it will be okay, that a period of great joy will follow the upheaval. I know I just need to have faith. But it’s hard when so many people are suffering.

As the sounds of dissent grow louder, the princess’s eyes sweep the crowd. “Silence, please,” she starts. “Let’s not forget why we are here today. I’m sure Dr. Veragelen will have news of a solution to all our problems.” She turns back to the ambassador. “I promise I will look into this matter.”

He looks doubtful but bends his head nonetheless. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

I half expect the same sort of comments from the ambassador from Kridacus, a shrewd-looking woman in an orange gown, but the expression on her sun-lined, white face seems purposefully blank.

And then it’s my turn. Princess Kalinda shifts her stern face and kind—I knew they’d be kind—eyes to me.

“Be calm. You can do this.” Merrick’s hand touches my shoulder, and immediately my racing heart slows as I feel his strength, both mental and physical. He might find me a trial, but for the last few years, he’s been family, teacher, friend, protector, all rolled into one.

If he says it will be okay, then it will be okay.

The princess is even more beautiful close up, with the same light golden-brown skin and dark red hair of the Empress. But her skin has the same swirling silver pattern that Merrick’s does, and in this light it’s like she almost glows. Standing next to her makes me feel drab and young, despite the fact that we’re the same age.

“Ambassador Fr—” A frown flickers across her face. “You’re not Ambassador Frellen.”

It sounds like an accusation, and I wonder if she recognizes me and if that’s why she’s frowning. Because she is here for a solution to the Dying Sun and I exist because there is none.

For a second, I can do nothing but blink up at her and wait for her to say something to me about our beliefs. When she doesn’t, and instead just continues to frown at me, instinct takes over, and—even as I’m thinking don’t bow—I do it anyway. I drop into a low, deep curtsy that has Merrick’s hand tightening on my shoulder as though he can stop my descent.

Too late, Merrick. Way too late.

I’m nearly to the floor before he pulls me up like a puppet. But the damage has been done. Everyone saw what I did—most especially the princess.

I’m expecting the worst when I finally work up the nerve to glance at her face. But she’s actually smiling, amusement flickering in her eyes.

“I don’t think I know your name,” she murmurs.

“I’m Rain,” I say. “It’s an honor to meet you, Princess.”

I hear Merrick’s indrawn breath behind me, because, of course, I’ve made another mistake. Flustered, my face burning with mortification, I do the only thing I can think of to make this better. I reach out to touch her…and… Yes, it’s official. I am a total and complete disaster.

Thankfully, Merrick yanks me backward before my hand can connect. At the same time, the big man in the body armor pushes himself between the princess and me. As he does, he reaches for the weapon at his side.

“For goodness’ sake, Vance,” the princess mutters. “Stand down.”

Vance looks like he wants to argue, but eventually he steps back. And I don’t blame him, which is why I do my best to look harmless. It’s not hard, considering I’m 1.6 meters tall with a total baby face. But still, after the mess I just made, I’m not taking anything for granted.

Except the princess’s lips are twitching. I’m a source of amusement, which is completely humiliating.

“I think proper introductions might be in order,” she says.

Merrick steps forward. “Your Highness. May I introduce Rain, High Priestess of the Sisterhood of the Light and temporary ambassador of Serati.”

“High Priestess?” Her eyes widen, and I wonder what her feelings are toward the Sisterhood. Our relationship with the Ruling Families has often been a little…fraught. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t allow Vance to shoot you. It would definitely have caused a diplomatic incident.”

“Yes, Prin—” I suck in my breath. “Yes, Your Highness,” I say. “I’m glad as well. Very glad.”

She laughs then, holding my gaze as she does. For a second, I think I see wariness, or maybe pity, in her eyes. But then she reaches out and touches a finger to the emblem of the second sun on the upper left lapel of my robe. As she does, a murmur goes up around us and Merrick stiffens beside me.

But before anyone else can throw a fit, a loud buzzer goes off. The blaring shifts the tension as across the docking bay, a light flashes above a set of double doors.

The princess drops her hand and steps back. “It looks like something is finally happening.” Then, just like that, she turns and walks away as the sound continues.

Something is finally happening. Seems it’s time to shift focus from the disaster that I am to the disaster that I’m supposed to save us all from.