Page 22 of The Space Between Stars

Calver shook his head. “He was a traitor. P-p-people d-died. And he left us. Arleena is not like him.”

“Calverous, I—”

“TAKE IT BACK!” He couldn’t recall ever—ever—yelling like that. Regret sank teeth into his chest. The space fell utterly silent.

Calisto lanced Calver with a razor-sharp stare. “Anger does not serve a dowagist, Calverous. I ask you to take a seat until it has abated.”

Calver’s head dipped. He nearly shuffled for the far wall. Nearly muttered an apology.

But only for a floundering heartbeat. He was not his father, either. He would fight for his family, or not at all. His chin lifted. Jaw tightening, stomach roiling, Calver grabbed Arleena, whose fingers had found her mouth, and hoisted her onto his hip.

With all the subtle shift of a lightning strike, the idea of being a dowagist had completely and suddenly changed. If having dowagian meant having his sister compared to his father, Calver would rather live without it.

He had never been very good at speech, but he’d have the final word.

They left.

Calver and Arleena stood where the surf met the sand, letting the ocean lick their wiggling toes. They threw orange shells into the waves. They dragged algae-crusted sticks through crunching sand.

Arleena laughed when a too-tall crest left Calver winded and spluttering. He laughed too, ignoring the scrapes it gained him. They built a castle from the sand. They dug a small pool near the tide. The wind tugged Arleena’s disheveled curls around her face. It was filled with the grit of the sea…

Their mother would find out.

Before he took them home, he had Arleena rinse beneath a communal water-spout. He had to pay his only silver note for it, which left him with nothing to buy fresh injera to eat. But they weren’t allowed to stray to the beach. Better to beg for dinner than not be trusted alone together again.

Lowsun came and went. Darkness seeped in from behind the curtain. No Mother.

Calver read Arleena to sleep. It was the same book they’d read from for months, now: a compilation of seafarer tales from the Raider Wars, thirty years before. It was not a suitable tale for a five-year-old—the sea had been bloody and ruthless in those days—but the book had been free, forgotten on the beach, caked with sand and damaged from the rain. Arleena’s eyelids had only just settled when a knock sounded at the door.

Calver’s chest swelled—Mother—then clenched. That was not her knock.

He unlatched the lock and cracked the door. Calisto stood in the darkness, a fine burgundy cloak thrown over his head. Calver nearly warned Calisto that he shouldn’t wear something like that here. Nearly.

“May I come in, Calverous?” Calisto’s voice lacked its usual sternness.

After a pause, Calver nodded meekly and opened the door just enough for his instructor to pass through. Calver pressed it shut behind him and threw the lock. Only then did he put mind to the state of the home. The compacted adobe floor hadn’t been swept in ages. The pots hadn’t been cleaned since the morning. Their sparse clothing was tossed around the small room. The roof sagged at its center. He might have been less mortified if Calisto had stumbled upon him using the dowaga as a mirror to practice his smile.

Arleena stirred in her sleeping space, eying Calisto warily. She shot Calver an expression that questioned why he’d let the intruder in at all. Calver, with shoulders nearly up to his ears, managed to kick his thoughts into a line and pulled a chair from their makeshift table to offer to Mesu Calisto. His teacher took it graciously, but Calver remained standing. If he sat, he might explode into a million pieces and ruin Calisto’s fancy cloak. If he spoke, he feared what might come out.

Calisto broke the silence. “I am sorry you felt the need to leave today. Temper or none, I want you to feel welcome at dowagian. I know it is one of the few places you do.”

Calver could not find adequate words, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I was not angry you were late. I expected it today, considering your circumstances.” What had his mother told Calisto? “And it is why I set five against one. You have always done well at calming your emotions. I wanted to know how you would react to unforeseen circumstances when you were already in a state of stress. But I dare say, I was disappointed.”

So it had been a test. And he’d passed it as well as any dowagist might win a fight with his hands tied. Heat touched Calver’s ears.

“H-how did you g-get here?” Irrelevant. Stupid. But no one was allowed to know where they lived. That was Mother’s rule.

“I’ve been here many times. In fact, I was the one who scouted this space when your mother was forced from the Skywalk.”

“Oh.” Stupid. Calver wished he’d just said nothing.

“I came to finish our discussion. If you remember, I said we would speak on the matter of your father at a different time.”

Boiling blood flowed to his limbs. He didn’t want this conversation any more than he wanted Thero’s talent for belittling him.

If Calisto could tell, he paid no regard. “You know I trained Thadinar for fifteen years.”