She is the snake in the grass, a switchblade in the boot, a gun in the stocking.
I could feel Vectra watching my every move. I was not allowed to see Ari or be anywhere near him, and my insistence on breaking the rules fueled Vectra's disdain for my very being.
Her eyes changed color constantly in the presence of the Sensitives, oscillating between deep dark purple and clear navy blue.
She could have stopped me — perhaps even unmade me — but she didn't. She only hissed warnings I refused to hear.
I knelt beside Ari. A chasm opened inside my gut, rotating around itself, self-sustaining like a supermassive black hole.
His body burned, light bleeding from his pores like molten lava gold. The water of the Well of Hubris hissed uselessly against his skin. My chaos should have cooled him, balanced him, but the storm's poison had lodged too deep.
I looked around the room. Areilycus' quarters never resembled anything more than a circular arena of empty wealth – not that it was his fault. The Assigner insisted on minimalism; we weren't allowed to bring possessions into the Sacred City, and we weren't allowed to read or indulge in sentient-like activities. We gathered in the palace, communed, convened; it was all so very boring. Areilycus' private space never had anything more in it than a large bed with sheets and blankets made of golden stardust. The Assigner insisted he'd sleep in close proximity to which his essence was made of. It was a rule designed solely for him.
The only truly remarkable 'decorative' addition that screamed pure Ari was the ceiling - a star map of Tripolis outlining the planet and its moons, the star systems around it, the celestial bodies, the asteroid fields, the stars. Ari loved the stars. The map was always in motion, just like the universe, a living organism, a projection of the real thing outside of windows of the Sacred City.
"Why isn't it working?" My voice cracked.
Vectra turned away to the vast window, where Tripolis and its moons blinked faintly like candle flames. "I don't know, Anchor."
"But you do." I rose, closing the gap between us. Next to her height and calm, I looked like a furious child.
"Is this punishment? For questioning him?"
Her brows knotted.
I know I've been a little…"
"A little?" she turned to me. "If we all die tomorrow, Mila, it will be because of you." I felt the guilt pooling deep inside my gut. We had a little fight with the Assigner before I was sent to anchor Tripolis. So what? It was almost a ritual to fight with him before the job.
"If we all die tomorrow, Mila, it will be because of you."
Guilt pierced me, but rage kept me upright. "I said nothing that deserves a death sentence for my twin."
"We serve. We do not decide. We do not question."
I wanted to scream that I wasn't an actor on his stage, that chaos wasn't all I was. But Vectra could read thoughts like open books; silence was my only rebellion.
I gestured to Ari's twitching form. "Have you ever seen this before?"
Her answer came reluctant, torn. "Once."
A part of the reason why she was so frugal with her words was that she had been a terrible liar. Not only that, she despised deception. If she couldn't tell the truth, she'd rather cut her tongue out.
"And?"
"You can do nothing. The sickness must burn itself out."
"No!" My chaos lashed outward, rattling the walls. Ari's star-map ceiling flickered. Vectra laid a hand on my shoulder, her fingers long and trembling.
"He can't die, Mila. He is immortal."
Vectra winced, her striking eyes drawing the pain she felt. I couldn't unsee the empathy in them now even if I tried. I would see this look for the rest of my life. And I'd know that this was the moment I decided to commit to that thing raging inside me instead of pushing it away.
"That's the point," I whispered. "Tripolis is not meant to survive." I covered my mouth. "He does not want to anger Hunat, so he's going to blame it on Ari."
Her silence was answer enough. Finally, she sighed. "A meteor shower. Soon. Tripolis and its moons will be destroyed."
I reeled. "And he's seen this?"
"He's seen it," Vectra admitted. "But not the outcome."
I pressed Ari's burning hand to my cheek, desperate for any trace of him. We were halves of the same soul, breathed into existence together, and now I was told his suffering was necessary. That our home was already forfeit.
My siblings would never speak against it. Cleo, Las, Volmira, Rosum. I was alone.
Vectra sank onto the bed across from me, her face drawn as she touched Ari's brow. She tried, I saw it in the wrinkling of her skin, but when she pulled back she was drained, her colors flickering. She shook her head.
No.
The thought thundered out of me, reverberating through the Sacred City, out into the stars.
I will not let him die.
If I could not find the cure here, I would go elsewhere. Even if it meant breaking the one law etched into the marrow of my being:
Never leave Tripolis.