ANDROMA
THE NIGHT SKY was more beautiful than Andi ever remembered it being. It lay over the land like a blanket of stars, and on a night like this, crisp and clear, she could make out the nebula that surrounded the system. It was a wash of pinks, light and dark, with stars accenting it like delicate jewelry.
Growing up, Andi’s mother frequently told her tales of how the galaxy had formed. There were once ancient Night Spirits that lived in the darkness, feeding off the truest of evils. Their counterparts, known as the Light Bearers, kept the darkness at bay. They brought hope back to the worlds they watched over, restoring tranquility to the universe. It was always black and white between the two entities, until one day, everything changed.
A Light Bearer fell in love with a Night Spirit, a unity that was never meant to be, thus creating a cataclysmic event that changed the course of life.
Their love created a monstrous black hole, something so dangerous and untouchable that it was seen as evil incarnate—until the galaxy started to form around the beast.
But the galaxy wasn’t the only thing to form from their union. It also gave way to the creation of the Godstars, all-knowing beings with the power to give and take, the perfect mixture of darkness and light.
“It shows us that everyone has a balancing act teetering in their souls,” Andi’s mother had told her. “We all stand in harmony between the two. It is up to you which side becomes stronger.”
Andi thought often about this story, and wondered if it was possible to be as good as the Light Bringers, but also shaded in the darkness of the Night Spirits. She felt as if a war was always going on within her, both sides constantly fighting one another, no matter how hard she tried to keep both at bay.
Tonight in that room with her father, Andi had felt the Night Spirit within her take a hold.
As she walked, Andi took in the view that spread out from the Cortas estate. The distant shine of the city far below, with its glass spires and rigid, straight-backed citizens. Every plant and blade of grass across the planet had an iridescent glow, as if lit from within. From the skies above Arcardius, the shimmering flora made the planet look ethereal, as if the Godstars themselves resided here.
Arcardius was the first planet inhabited by the Ancients hundreds of thousands of years ago, and many believed that the Godstars must have given the settlers this gift to welcome them to their new home. But whatever the reason, Andi was grateful for it. She didn’t want to be in the presence of darkness after everything that had happened. She needed to clear her mind of all that had been clogging it since the beginning of the rescue job.
Andi ran her fingers over the moonlit roses. Huge groups of them had been placed around the pathway that led deeper into the gardens. She watched as a flutterwing darted past her, leaving a trail of sparkling pollen in its wake.
Her feet led her down a few more paths lined with flowers and resting flutterwings that looked like little fairies in the hue of the plants’ glow. Even with no planned destination, her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, because she suddenly found herself in the middle of a small clearing. In front of her was one of the miniature floating rocks that dotted the skies of the planet.
This one had a small waterfall streaming from its edge into a pool below. Surrounding the perimeter were huge Gajuai flowers, their petals growing over one another to create a natural patchwork pattern.
“A wonder, isn’t it?” a voice asked behind her. Andi jumped and cursed herself for letting someone sneak up on her.
This planet, and its illusion of safety, was making her lose her touch.
She hardly recognized Valen now that he was cleaned up. His brown hair was cropped short and, skinny as he was, it made his strong jaw more pronounced. Everything about his once-soft face was now hard edges. No doubt, with some more meat on his bones, he would be striking.
The boy she remembered from years ago had now become a man.
Damaged as he must be on the inside, at least his physical wounds would heal. The awful things he had experienced at the hands of Xen Ptera would hopefully become a distant memory, as well, and more bearable with time.
“You’re looking better,” Andi said as he approached her, his hazel eyes burning through the darkness like embers. He held a portable easel in his arms, along with a silver box that Andi recognized as his old kit of paints.
“Thanks,” he said. “Mother and I installed this garden shortly after the trial, in honor of Kalee.”
Andi didn’t know how to feel about that revelation. Suddenly the garden around her seemed to darken. She’d felt called here, as if she’d needed this place.
Maybe Kalee’s ghost truly was alive, following her through the Cortas estate. Still, Andi didn’t feel as if she deserved to be in Kalee’s garden.
“I should go,” Andi said. “You probably want to spend some time here alone.”
“Actually,” Valen said, as she turned to leave, “I was going to paint the gardens. But it would be nice to have a living subject to paint. And to talk to someone who won’t try to coddle me. Believe it or not, Mother is so afraid to leave me alone, she nearly followed me into the bathroom earlier.”
Andi almost laughed as she imagined Merella fussing over her now-grown son. She couldn’t imagine the relief she must feel now that Valen had returned.
Andi paused for a moment. “Did you want to paint me?”
Valen nodded. “The way the moonlight catches the metal on your cheekbones and the purple in your hair. It’s colors like these, with dimension and depth, that I’ve missed.”
“You used to paint Kalee,” Andi said.
Valen nodded. “She loved being the center of attention. She was always so different from me in that respect.” He pointed past Andi, to the edge of the clear pool. “You could sit there. On the rock.”
Neither of them spoke at first as she sat down, the cool rock beneath her. Valen set up his easel, placing a blank canvas on it, his motions practiced and full of ease. He unlocked his box of paints, setting them out one by one before he dipped his brush into the first, a soft white the color of her hair. It was peaceful, this silence between them, and the trickle of the waterfall beyond.
“I’ve missed this,” Valen said.
“I can tell.”
He looked content as his brush slid across the canvas, his eyes flitting back to her every so often. “Someday, I’d like to paint every landscape in Mirabel,” he said.
Andi smiled. “I’d like to visit them all.”
She thought of her room on the Marauder. All the images of the many corners of Mirabel scattered across the glass walls.
They were silent again for a while as Valen worked. As Andi allowed herself to simply sit for a time. To rest in the moment.
“Do you want to see something neat?” Valen asked suddenly, his gaze now fixed on hers. There was a fleck of red paint on his cheek. It reminded Andi of the Valen she’d once known, before everything changed. “That is, if it’s still there... I could use a break.” He looked at his paint-stained hands.
“Sure, I guess so.” Andi shrugged her shoulders. She smiled as she added, “As long as it’s not Jumping Mud.”
Valen laughed. “I’m still not sorry about that.”
Years ago, Valen had brought Andi and Kalee to a garden similar to this one and talked the girls into touching a pile of brackish sludge. It turned out the sludge was nicknamed Jumping Mud by the local kids because some microorganism within caused it to explode in their faces. The two girls had marched back to Kalee’s room covered in filth, fuming as they traded fantasies about getting revenge on her older brother.
Hesitantly, Andi agreed, and she followed Valen to the opposite side of the pond.
A small, floating staircase led to the top of the gravarock.
“Kalee used to wish she could climb up to one of the rocks instead of being flown there,” Valen explained. “In a weird way, this is for her.” He looked over his shoulder at Andi as he began to climb. “Come on.”
The stairs stopped at the top of the rock, and Valen led the way onto its surface. A soft layer of glowing green moss had grown there, soft as a blanket. Valen and Andi settled down on it, side by side.
“This used to be the only place I wanted to spend my days,” Valen said.
Andi let her gaze drift over the view before her. It was enchanting. Everything was glowing, fields of light from the garden below mixing with the blue and red of the moons above. It all melted into a soft purple.
“I’ve missed this,” Andi admitted.
“Me, too. While I was in Lunamere, I almost forgot what this place looked like.”
Andi had, too. The years she’d spent away from home had stolen many of her good memories of Arcardius.
“Do you think you’ll ever be the same?” Andi asked.
Valen toyed with the moss between them. He lifted a brow as he turned to her. “Do you?”
“No,” she said. “And I don’t know that I want to be.”
“I learned something, in my time away,” he said, leaning back, arms crossed behind his head.
Andi leaned back, too.
The stars stared down at them. The nebula seemed to loose a sigh as it swam far above their heads, sparkling as if it were made of dancing glitter.
“We’ve been through darkness, Andi,” Valen said. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t still live in the light.”
He closed his eyes, and Andi was left to ponder how much his words echoed her own thoughts from earlier, about the balance between the light and the dark.
They stayed there for a time, silence threading between them.
“Hey...Andi?” Valen said as he lifted himself on an arm and turned to her. “This may be overstepping, and I completely understand if you say no...”
His words trailed off, and she nodded her head in encouragement for him to continue.
“Tomorrow is the Summit, and after that is the Ucatoria Ball. Even though I just got back, my father expects me to make an appearance. I know it’s safe here, that everything will be fine, but...I think I’d feel better if, perhaps, you and your crew came with me.”
Andi couldn’t bring herself to tell him about his father’s demand. That she and the girls and Dex would already be there, forced to remain until General Cortas decided he would release them.
So she nodded, still staring up at the sky.
“Yes, Valen, we’ll be there.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see him still watching her. She turned to face him.
“Was there something else?” Andi asked.
Valen’s face paled. “I’m required to dance.”
Andi laughed at that. Every year, the Summit took place on a different planet. The Ucatoria Ball was always opened by that planet’s future successor dancing with a partner, a tradition that had lasted since the first official Summit fifteen years ago.
“I’m not interested in dancing with a girl,” Valen said. “So...I thought...maybe I could dance with you?”
Andi let out a single laugh. “I’m a girl, Valen. In case you’d forgotten.”
He cursed. “That’s not what I meant!” Then he sighed. “I just meant that, at these things, normally, one dances with a romantic interest, and...I’d rather just dance with a friend.”
A friend.
He said the word as if he really meant it. As if, somehow, despite what they’d been through, the horrors they’d shared, Valen had begun to think of Andi as a friend.
Other than her crew, she hadn’t had one in years.
A smile, tentative at first, grew on her lips.
“So?” Valen asked. “Do you think...would you want... I’d ask one of your crewmates, but quite frankly, they terrify me.”
Andi laughed again. “It’s alright, Valen,” she said, sitting up and facing him. “I’ll dance with you.”
The relief on his face was palpable. He smiled, a real, genuine one this time.
“My father won’t be pleased,” he said.
“Good,” Andi said. “Neither will mine.”
They shared a soft laugh.
“Let’s go back down,” Valen said. “I want to finish the painting.”
She nodded and glanced one last time at the view before her as she stood. It was breathtaking, rivaling all the places Andi had seen on other planets far from here.
Friends, she thought.
She followed him down the stairs, back into the garden below.