Chapter 121
The light of the star is everywhere: violet on one side, rose on the other, warm and bright. The crew moves through it like sleepwalkers, apart.
sitting on a rock eating, and silent, which has never happened.
(She frowns at her own words, startled.)
walking among them, hands open.
trying it, squinting.
(His mouth keeps moving, horrified.)
almost amused.
sitting with the book, looking at Orka.
kneeling in front of him, her split eyes kind and merciless.
stung, the truth landing, tears in his eyes.
looking at Mingus, asleep across his feet. Then at the book. READ WITH A FRIEND.
Vigolas alone, legs dangling over the edge, looking out at the starlight sea. Kompis walks over, the book under his arm. Sits beside him. A foot of starlight between them that has never been there before.
holding out the book.
looking at the book. Then at Kompis.
The two of them on the rim of a split star, violet light on one side and rose on the other, the Current spread out below like a sea of lanterns. Vigolas, in his clinking coat, turns his head and looks at Kompis for a long, long beat. No thread. No pull. Nothing in his chest telling him what to do.
And the greedy man reaches out and puts his hand on top of the book, on top of Kompis's hand.
And in the Dawnstar's light, where no lie survives, every word holds.
Shouts. Skiffs. The Severers hit the far side of the star in daylight this time, a dozen of them with oar-shears, going for the seam.
Rougeina drops from her starlight spike. Smurjan is already running. They reach the seam together. Apart.
a Severer in front of her, glancing back at Smurjan. She can't feel where he'll be. She looks.
They fight by choice: calling every move out loud, "Now!" "Behind!" "Mine!", the way strangers would. Rougeina Moth-Swaps high, Smurjan's palm goes low on her call, and the Triple Pulse lands on her cue.
It works: slower, louder, clumsier, but it works. The Severers fall back from the seam.
back to back, panting.
The raid's over. The crew gathers around a fire of starlight, still apart, but closer than this morning. Talking out loud, on purpose.
finally, out of nowhere, loud:
(In the Dawnstar's light, it's true.)
a narrow dark cleft in the seam, where violet and rose don't quite touch, quiet and private, white fire flickering at the edges. Kompis and Vigolas climb down into it with Mingus between them.
at the top of the cleft, hands open, holding the seam steady around them.
on the warm starlight between them, Kompis's hand on one side and Vigolas's hand on the other.
The clasp. READ WITH A FRIEND. The gold script burns white, and with a soft click, like a lock turning in a door, the clasp opens.