For the next week, Bain, Suriah, and Lina all trekked to the cave every day and sorted through the debris. They had piles for useless scrap, for things that might still be in working order, for things that could be salvaged for parts, and for ‘I’m not sure what this is, but it looks interesting.’
Unfortunately, it was the last pile that seemed to be growing the most. The more Lina dug through all of this, the more she realized just how far out of her depth she was. She could tell that something was important, but couldn’t say why or how she even knew that it was. Maybe intuition? But that wasn’t very satisfying to her alien hosts.
Since the night of the ball, Bain had kept his distance. Any time Suriah had somewhere to be or something to do that would leave them alone, suddenly the prince, too, had something to take him away. Despite spending nearly every waking moment with the pair, Lina was lonely. Suriah tried to talk to her now and then, but invariably, the topic of conversation always drifted to her brother and Lina skated around that as quickly as she could.
The truth was, she didn’t know what had happened between them or if it ever would again. From the moment they met, there seemed to be some kind of connection between them, but either Bain didn’t feel it anymore or he never had.
Probably more likely was that she wasn’t new and exciting anymore. That’s all he ever wanted and now the sheen had worn off and Lina was just another ordinary, uninteresting girl.
But their days weren’t all taken up by the cavern full of junk. It seemed that Farita was a bit of a gossip and the word of how Lina had fixed the tea kettle spread through the village of Mabnoa like wildfire.
She wasn’t in the hospital anymore; the queen had graciously given her a treetop apartment of her own, and every day she woke up to a pile of broken items to fix. She didn’t know who they belonged to or where they came from, but when she put them back outside the door repaired, the next day a gift appeared without fail. Generally, the gifts were food. Loaves of freshly baked bread, baskets of fruit, a plate of sweets. She’d also gotten clothes which came in handy since she didn’t have a wardrobe of her own, and even a piece of jewelry or two.
Lina wasn’t sure how people heard about her, or why they trusted her to do the work, but she was grateful for it. After a long day of avoiding Suriah, keeping her distance from Bain, and delving deep into the piles of wreckage, it was nice to come home and lose herself in work that was mostly familiar. Even nicer to be compensated for her work.
Of course, Mom always appreciated what she did, but there was no reason to compensate her. She had everything provided for her: food, shelter, what passed for clothing, and companionship. Now, things were different. Now, Lina was making a living for herself and it felt good. There were still a lot of things on Mabnoa that didn’t feel good — most of them revolving around the royal siblings — but even if she never managed to make it off of this planet, she felt like she was carving her own path which felt loads better than just waiting for things to happen to her. She was useful here. She had a place. Even if it wasn’t the place she’d envisioned for herself those first few nights.
She was in her apartment, hunched over a harvesting drone that had forgotten how to fly level. There were gardens throughout the treetop village, and these little robots did most of the hard work picking fruits and vegetables, but this one had an overactive rotor and kept listing to one side, crashing into buildings and people, destroying crops with its erratic flight. She’d actually heard about it from someone else and asked if she could look at it. It was a step beyond just fixing things left at her doorstep, but Lina would be happy to help if she could.
Her eyes burned from focusing on the tiny parts under the bright light. Outside, the world was dark, most of the citizens asleep or drifting off to the lullaby of crickets. She was working on freeing a particularly stubborn bolt when a knock at her door made her jump and she hit her head on the light right above her.
“Ow,” she winced, rubbing the spot ruefully as she stood and crossed the one-room apartment to the door.
Who would be showing up this late, unannounced?
“Suriah,” she said with a sigh, swinging the door open all the way. “What are you doing here?”
The princess pushed her way inside without waiting for an invitation and flopped onto the bed dramatically. “I just wanted to say hi. I feel like we never hang out anymore.”
Lina didn’t point out that there wasn’t really an ‘anymore,’ she’d only been here a little over a week, so Suriah implying that their routine had changed was more than a little ridiculous.
“We see each other every day down at the caverns,” she said instead.
Suriah groaned. “Well yeah, but you never talk to me. I thought we were friends,” she said, sitting up to pout.
Lina sighed and slumped back into her desk chair, re-adjusting the light over her work. “I guess we’re all just focused on our work.” As if to punctuate the point, she freed the bolt and finished dismantling the over-zealous rotor.
“Yeah, I guess,” Surie sighed, flopping backwards. “Bain’s no fun either. And mother’s noticed our absence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she finds a list of duties for us each as long as my arm.”
Lina’s brow furrowed, but she stayed mostly focused on the work ahead of her. Having the extra hands in the caverns was helpful for the brunt of the work, but when they finally finished this phase and had things sorted, she probably wouldn’t need their help much. And being free of the awkward tension might actually be for the best. She shrugged.
“That would suck, but I’m sure I’ll manage.”
Suriah was quiet for an extended beat and Lina almost thought she’d let the subject drop. Almost, but then Surie took a breath and Lina steeled herself.
“Alright, what is going on?” Suriah said, her voice suddenly sterner than Lina had ever heard it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lina answered.
“Yeah right,” Surie said, grabbing the back of Lina’s chair and forcing it to swivel to face her. “Spill. You and my brother have both been acting weird ever since the ball and even with all his talk of rebuilding the old ships and reclaiming our place in the stars, I can tell there’s something there that doesn’t quite go to the roots.”
Lina frowned. “I just want to go home Suriah,” she said, massaging her temples.
Suriah answered with a matching frown, looking around at Lina’s apartment with a helpless flouncy gesture. “But… I thought you liked it here. I thought you wanted to be around people your own size… in a place on your scale…” The betrayal in her eyes was too much. She looked too much like Bain and Lina couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d looked at her when she’d told him she wanted to go home.
“And I thought you and Bain… I thought you liked him?”
“I…” Lina faltered. She couldn’t say that she didn’t like him, but she knew that things weren’t going to work out. It had been a nice fantasy for a moment, but this wasn’t home and Mom was surely missing her.
“I don’t think that’s going to work out, Surie.” She felt like she was explaining this to a small child, not someone her own age, but she could see how much Suriah wanted this and she had to tread carefully. She couldn’t blame Bain — clearly Suriah adored her brother and would get defensive about that — but how else did she explain it?
“Why? Because you still think you belong on some planet of giants where no one knows about you or cares about you and you could get squished or lost without anyone noticing?”
Lina’s jaw tightened and her hands balled into fists at her side. “That’s not true. I have my mother and I guarantee you she’s worried sick about me. I have to get back to her and tell her I’m alright.”
“Yeah, okay,” Suriah said. “And then what? You just stay there, fighting with all the things that are too big for you, wishing you could see the sun and breathe fresh air?”
She’d told her too much and now Suriah had all this ammunition to use against her. She should have known better. Lina sighed, not really having an answer.
“Go home, tell your mom you’re fine and then come back here where you belong,” Surie said.
Lina shook her head. “It’s not that simple.” The plan was almost enticing if it weren’t for the little matter of Bain. The awkwardness between them was unbearable, and even though she hated to acknowledge it, his rejection of her still stung every time she looked at him. She couldn’t stay here and see him every day. She couldn’t live among these people and smile and bow to him at every event, remembering what his lips felt like and knowing she’d never experience it again.
“Why not? What makes it so complicated? I want you here, the people want you here, clearly,” she said, waving around the room at the scattered items left for her to repair and the plethora of gifts. “When she hears about how much you’ve been helping everyone, the queen will certainly want you here and we both already know Bain wants you here, so what’s the problem?”
Lina nibbled on her bottom lip and shook her head, turning away from Surie and back to the drone.
Suriah pushed aside a pile of carefully-organized tools and sat on the desk, forcing Lina to look at her. “Seriously. We’re friends. You can talk to me. What’s the issue?”
Lina pinched the bridge of her nose and blew out a long breath. Surie wasn’t going to leave without a satisfactory answer, so she might as well just tell her.
“Bain was only interested in me because I was something new and different, Surie. It wasn’t real. He told me himself — before I showed up he was just bored and restless and then I fell from the sky and offered some excitement.” Lina threw up her hands in a huff. “I don’t know what you thought you saw, but it’s not there. I’m not new anymore so I’m boring, too. Maybe he’ll legitimately like the next girl that falls out of the sky, but it wasn’t me.” The words felt like acid burning up her throat as she forced them out, each word rawer and more painful than the last. By the end, tears pricked in her eyes and she turned to wipe them away without Surie seeing.
Suriah was quiet for a long time and Lina didn’t face her. The silence hung long enough that she wondered if Surie had left, but when she finally turned, the princess was still there, a frown creasing her beautiful face.
“You’re wrong,” she finally muttered, standing from the desk.
Lina shook her head. “But Surie, he said—”
Suriah’s expression hardened and suddenly she looked so much like her mother: stern, regal, and above reproach. “My brother says a lot of idiotic things. Whatever happened between you two, I don’t know, but he’s been just as weird and surly about it as you have, and I think it’s time the two of you talk it out.”
Lina shook her head, holding out her hands as if that could stop the princess’s scheming mind from barreling forward. “No, Surie, please. I just want to work in peace until I find my way home.”
Suriah looked like she was actually considering the plea and finally nodded, the frown still in place. “Fine. Suit yourself, but I think you’re making a big mistake.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lina deadpanned.
It seemed that the conversation was drawing to a close and both girls yawned simultaneously before bursting into giggles at that.
“I guess I should be getting to bed,” Suriah said, drifting toward the door.
“Good night,” Lina tossed over her shoulder as she turned back to her work.
“Oh,” said the princess, lingering in the doorway, “my birthday is in a few days. I was hoping you’d come to the party?”
Lina’s hands stilled, her whole body rigid for a moment. Was that what Surie had come for, or was it her plan to get Lina and her brother to talk?
Regardless, a birthday sounded exciting. Mom used to throw Lina parties sometimes, but it was always just the two of them. Lina would get a crumb of cake and Mom normally gifted her some new tool, or maybe a painstakingly-stitched little garment. Lina had always wondered what normal birthday parties were like.
“Will there be cake?” she asked.
Suriah scoffed. “Puh-lease. This is my birthday we’re talking about. There will be nothing but cake.”
Lina smothered a giggle and nodded. “Alright. I’d love to go.”
Surie rolled her eyes, pulling the door behind her. She shook her head, her laughter muffled by the door closing. “Will there be cake, who does she think I am?”