Blood of a Thousand Stars (Empress of a Thousand Skies #2)(4)

But he was no longer there.

Kara got on the tips of her toes and looked for him, but he was nowhere—lost to the crowd. She’d been sure he was behind her. If she waited she might miss her window: From her observations, she’d learned there were only fifteen minutes during the day when the temple was unused. That alone had been enough to convince her that whatever the Lancer had given his son was likely stored there, where it would be under near constant guard.

Looking toward the tower, she raised a hand to signal Pavel. She was going in.

Inside was a short hallway that led her through another threshold and into a long room with high ceilings. Bamboo mats lined the floor, and a row of wooden pillars ran down the center. Material imported from Kalu, no doubt; there was no way a dusty moon like this had enough water to grow bamboo. Light flooded in through paneled windows all along the east and west walls. It was empty. Still, it vibrated with the intensity and violence she’d always associated with martial arts.

There was a small altar against the wall in the center of the room, with only one holo, one ancestor: Veyron. Otherwise known as the Lancer. Kara had practically memorized his face; she’d come across countless images of him during all the research she’d done in the last two days. In every available image he wore a stark expression: his mouth in a line so straight it was practically a grimace, the high brow and darker coloring of his Wraetan side, the intimidating stare of his ice-blue eyes.

But in this holo he had the hint of a smile, and it was taken outside—the sun’s glow warm on his skin, making it look tanner, more alive.

Scattered across the altar were simple offerings: a few pieces of fruit, a bowl of grain, and an old stick of incense burned down to its nub. One item stood out: a cylinder made up of small wooden pieces, of all different sizes and lengths, jigsawed together. The whole thing fit into the palm of Kara’s hand.

When she lifted it, a beam emitted from its center and panned across her eyes. For a split second, she was blinded. The blue beam widened, and a holo of the galaxy appeared, a sprawling image that took up the length of the dojo and made Kara dizzy with its scope.

Kara heard a door slam behind her. She jumped back, dropping the cylinder. It clattered to the ground, and the holo disappeared into a sliver.

She turned and saw him. Julian. He looked even taller than he had a few days ago. He stood with his feet apart, his hands in fists.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” Kara said smoothly. The lie came easy, even if her heart was racing and her head was throbbing. Of all days for Julian to come back . . . She couldn’t help but notice he’d blocked the entrance she’d come through—and the exit she’d been intending to use.

His blue eyes fell on the cylinder. Its surfaces had reconfigured into an asymmetrical triangle. “How did you get it to unlock?”

“I didn’t unlock it.” Kara tried to keep her voice steady as he paced toward her. Could she get around him? There was a second door, on the far side of the room, but she didn’t know where it led. “I just picked it up.”

“You’re lying.” Then: “Tell me what it said.”

So there was a message. Kara knew that this was what Lydia had intended her to find. That it was a message only Kara—not Julian, not anyone—could have opened.

Outside something slammed into the window. Kara could make out the figure from the inside, a dark form crouching low as it pressed itself against the window. Instinctively Kara and Julian both crouched.

The beating of her heart matched the pounding of her head. Right then and there, Kara made a decision.

When Julian’s head was turned toward the window, Kara lunged past him, grabbing the wooden device in her hand.

“No!” He dove for her. His hand caught her foot and she flew forward, knees and elbows breaking her fall. The device tumbled forward, out of her hands—and Julian let her go to scramble for it, but Kara was faster getting to her feet.

Kara scooped up the device and hurtled out the door, relieved to see a staircase. The noise of chanting and shouting in the market was louder here—she was headed in the right direction.

“What did it say?” Julian’s voice echoed back to her even as she pinballed up the steps, crashing around the twists and turns, making bruises she’d find only later.

She burst into the sunlight, and threw herself into the rioting crowd.





TWO


RHIANNON


RHEE no longer looked like a Marked child; the suction of the octoerces had faded, and her skin was once again the color of smooth sand. It had been just two days since Rhee announced her homecoming via a hijacked holovision channel. The Fisherman, who had helped Rhee and Dahlen escape from Nero’s clutches after he’d found her on Fontis, had then reached out for help to a disparate network of anarchists—who didn’t care one bit about restoring Rhee to her crown, but did care about the credits they received in return for their assistance. Shuttled in a series of unmarked crafts, flying under the radar of the very army Rhee should command, she arrived on Kalu under the cover of night.

Now, from the backseat of the ground vehicle, she looked out of the tinted glass and saw the streets of Sibu, lined on either side with thousands of Kalusians who’d come out to welcome her home. Colorful paper lanterns were hung all over the capital city, from balconies and over doorways.