“Great. That could be a whole separate issue for all we know.”
“Yes,” he agrees. He takes my wrist and taps the bracelet there. “I know you want this off, I know being blocked from your star is awful, but don’t take this off. It’s all that’s standing in the way of you and a wrathful God.”
Father watches the live map of the Nebuli. Our star kin twinkle and ships soar within the airspace. I stare at Earth. “I wonder if … I wonder why he didn’t come for me when I was human.”
“I don’t know,” Father says. “I can only guess. Even though your soul goes with you to your human vessel, your powers may have remained dormant.”
Yes, our souls go with us, but a human vessel cannot handle the vibration of the ether flowing directly through them. They can still access it, but by other means and at a much lower capacity. Because Earth is the planet of free will, they can use it to create like a God, but most humans never achieve the vibration necessary to manifest what the ether’s vortex has to offer.
What Father says is possible, except that we already know my godly powers did manifest. So where was he?
“If it were me,” Atlanta says. “I would have killed ‘Treyu the human’ to make him a star again.”
“That would be like throwing water into the ocean,” Father says.
Atlanta shakes his head. “Not if you whispered a secret to a pair of angels and had them ensure Treyu’s sunstar was removed so that you could locate said star son.”
“Do you think he’s behind all of this? Did he plant the girl’s body?”
Atlanta twists his lips. “The sunstar thing, yes. As for the other, it seems to make the most sense, but a God wouldn’t be so sloppy.”
“Unless it was done on purpose,” Gem says. “A message? A clue?”
“Why leave a clue? What would that even mean?” I say, growing more frustrated by the second. Our answers only lead to more questions. “Wish we’d asked Boone more questions before he ditched.”
“Boone?” Father says.
I sigh. “And now we have a story for you.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Treyu
We had to return to the palace—me, Zhang, and Gem. Where I go, Merrick goes, so yeah, him too. Atlanta looked like he was having his skin ripped off when we pulled Gemini from him. Bet that’s what it felt like. They’ve been attached at the hip for weeks. Plus, their codependency is becoming legendary by this point.
Everything’s weird now and not just because we have an archangel trailing us through the halls of the palace. We’re getting looks, and naturally, I’m paranoid that everyone knows I’m … I’m what? A star legacy? Mutated progeny of a god? I think the whole thing’s ridiculous, but who knows what others will do. I’m not supposed to exist. People are scared of what they don’t understand.
At least Merrick finally put his wings away. Father had something called wing oil in his special storage of things he’s collected in odd places around the galaxy. It healed the fuck out of his wings. They’re not to full strength, but the feathers have stopped falling off, and the ones still intact are not as dry.
Zhang closes the three of us in his room, so done with all the stares I’m getting. Not because of jealousy—for once—he’s vibrating with the urge to protect me.
“Look at that, babe, you finally get to be my prince charming.”
He gives a weak smile, but failure’s closing around him. He kept the memories even though that meant giving us up, making everyone else forget, so that this wouldn’t happen. Something magnificent swells in my chest, swirling like a storm. He would have lived like that forever, by my side, keeping me safe without asking for anything but sandwiches in return. Now he feels like he’s failed.
“You were already prince charming,” I say. “You were hoping I wouldn’t remember.”
“Mmm,” he grunts. “That was the original plan, but that ship has sailed. At this point, not remembering is more of a hindrance than a help.”
Merrick flops onto the bed, making himself at home. “Rub some more of that wing oil on me, darling.”
“Do not darling me, Mair, and don’t boss me around. Ask me nicely.”
“Do it now, or I’ll find a way to spank you.”
That’s the one bright side. His wings cause him so much pain, moving is a chore. He might muster up the strength for an act of bravery like he did with the ship, but for once, spanking me’s not worth it. All he has the energy to do is threaten me.
I pull out the wing oil, though. Not because I’m moved by his threats, but because I know how much pain he has to be in to seek my help.
