For Darkness Shows the Stars (26 page)

Dear Kai,

After giving it a lot of thought, I’ve decided that this will be my last little note to you. I’ve grown tired of playing with a boy who lives in a barn and only owns one pair of pants. I can’t possibly imagine what you find so fascinating about bunches of rusted metal. It was a fun game while it lasted. But I’m bored now. Please don’t ever talk to me again.

Not your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

I really wish you’d stop coming and bothering me. I have lots of chores to do, because I’m a servant. I would much rather do the work I’m supposed to than waste everyone’s time by playing with you. I’m twelve years old now, and that means I have to work my allotted twelve hours a day on the farm, and if I don’t, I won’t get fed. I’m sure you don’t want me to starve. So leave me alone.

Not your friend,

Kai

Dear Kai,

That was Tatiana. Don’t worry. Mother has punished her.

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

No kidding.

Your friend,

Kai

PS: Would you really let me starve?

Dear Kai,

That was the craziest part of her letter. I had no idea you worked twelve hours a day. How do you have time to see me at all? How do you have time to read?

Your friend,

Elliot

Dear Elliot,

What do you mean? There are twenty-four hours in a day. I only have to work for twelve.

Your friend,

Kai

“Y
OU’RE COMING TO THE
race and that’s final. The Reduced laborers can prepare grandfather’s body without your supervision.” Tatiana stood at the door of Elliot’s room and slapped her riding crop impatiently against her thigh. Her dark hair was swept up in an elaborate system of braids that must have taken her maid hours to achieve, and her new riding habit was a deep, rich green velvet, complete with fringe, tassels, and gold buttons. Elliot supposed if she was going to ride a Post horse, she might as well dress up in a Post costume.

The irony was lost on her sister though. Today she was hosting a party for her fellow Luddite lords, but every detail, including the money used to pay for the extravaganza, was Post. This funeral was already an embarrassment. A horse race, to honor the Boatwright? It was ludicrous. Even a boat race would be preferable, but Tatiana and her father wouldn’t triumph there, and there was a real danger that the Cloud Fleet captains would.

“If there is no need to supervise the Reduced, then why do we?” Elliot asked. “Why do we imprison them when they are pregnant? Why do we control their movements? Why do we keep them like slaves?”

Tatiana rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, little sister. You know what I mean. We have set them a task and they can accomplish it quite well without your help. You are a daughter of Baron North and my sister, and you should be there to see me win this race. If you aren’t there, everyone will wonder why.”

“Or maybe they will think that I am in proper mourning for our grandfather.” Unlike Tatiana, who insisted on riding in the race, despite Elliot’s misgivings. After much more debate than Elliot would have thought possible, they’d come up with a solution that pleased three of the four of them: Benedict would ride one of the Innovation horses for the Norths, and Tatiana would ride the other in honor of her Boatwright heritage.

“The Fleet Posts are coming,” Tatiana said, ignoring Elliot’s remark. “You like them so much, I’m certain you’ll want to see them. And Horatio is bringing Olivia. That means
Captain Wentforth
will be there.” Her voice dripped with disdain over Kai’s Post moniker. “Don’t you want to see them?”

See them together? Tatiana was truly making a case for herself. “I know you’d prefer not to,” Elliot said.

“If I were you,” Tatiana replied, “I’d attach myself to Horatio as quickly as possible, lest Olivia and her Post friend try to take over the Grove estate.”

Elliot was sick of this argument. Almost as sick as she was of imagining a future where Kai remained here permanently—with Olivia Grove. “The last thing Captain Wentforth needs is an estate. And the last thing we need is any more arranged marriages.”

Tatiana raised her eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean? Who has arranged a marriage around here?”

So Benedict hadn’t told Tatiana of their mother’s history.

“Elliot?” Tatiana repeated. “Has Father said anything to you?”

Elliot almost laughed at the idea of her father telling her anything. But her father’s renewed closeness to his nephew finally made sense. There was nothing he could do to change Benedict’s claim to the estate. Benedict had been invited home with open arms for Tatiana’s benefit. Her father knew his best chance of keeping the estate for his eldest daughter lay in marrying her off to the Norths’ rightful heir.

But she doubted Benedict would be so easily swayed. No matter what he’d said to her when he first arrived, his snide remarks made it clear he hadn’t forgiven his uncle for the banishment, and he would be unlikely to do anything to oblige him—like following the Luddite tradition of an arranged marriage . . . to his cousin.

“I’m not going to the race,” was all Elliot would say. “I’m going to stay with Grandfather until the funeral. We’ve put it off long enough.”

Tatiana pursed her lips, slapped her riding crop against her leg a few more times, and glared at Elliot. Elliot glared back. Then Tatiana opened her mouth and called out, “Father!”

Elliot sighed.

Her father appeared in the doorway. “Get dressed, Elliot. And not in black, either. Your grandfather would not have wanted you to look so dismal. Remember, this is a celebration of his life.”

“She says she’s not going,” Tatiana whined.

“She most certainly is.”

“But, Father—”

“You’re going to the race,” he stated. “Or I shall bar
all
visitors from the birthing house.”

Elliot stared at him in bewilderment. If she didn’t attend a party, he would punish an innocent servant and her son. It made no sense whatsoever. None of it had. Putting Dee in the birthing house was a nonsense rule as well. It was nothing but a display of his power over the Posts on the estate. And this—this was nothing more than a display of his power over her. It couldn’t be important to him to see her present at the race. It would only reflect poorly on Tatiana and him if it was revealed that Elliot had chosen not to go.

It was Elliot who held power over
him
. She couldn’t help the bark of laughter that bubbled up in her throat, couldn’t prevent the escape of words that seemed to have been awaiting their freedom for years.

“Really, Father?” she asked. “And how exactly do you intend on implementing that? Will you be guarding it yourself, or do you expect one of the Post foremen to obey your orders in order to break the heart of a mother and son he has known all his life?”

The second the words were out, she regretted them. Her father’s face turned deadly serious. “You are going to the race, or I will move that Reduced girl out of her private cottage and into the adult barracks. It’s high time she found a man.”

Elliot caught her breath. No. No, she took it all back. This is what came of spending time with the Posts. She thought she could change the world.

The baron smiled mirthlessly. “Not so haughty now, are you? Think I don’t have control over my own estate? I do, and I can do much more besides. I can cancel the laborers’ funeral feast. I can change the locks on that room in the barn you’re so very fond of. You think I don’t know what happens on my own lands, Elliot? You think you’re in charge here? I am sick of your disobedience. You are going to the race because I said so.” He turned to go, then paused. “Oh, and Elliot, these penalties shall apply to any further infractions. Consider it a standing order.”

And then he was gone, leaving Elliot to sink weakly into her chair and Tatiana’s smile to broaden considerably.

“That will teach you.”

“Go away, Tatiana.” Elliot shook her head. What had she been thinking? She was supposed to be too smart for this. She had been too smart—for three years, ever since the bad time, she’d been oh-so-careful to work around her father. But he still knew just how to hit her. He always did.

Tatiana frowned. “Elliot, you think we don’t care about the Reduced. We do. We’re Luddites. We were born to care. But all the little luxuries you provide them—do they make them work any harder? You were once so kind to that Post boy, and how did he repay you? He ran away and left us all without a mechanic. And how has he repaid you now that he’s so rich? Hasn’t that taught you anything? Our job is not to raise them up. It’s to keep them alive and working and
here
, for the good of us all.”

Elliot raised her eyes to her sister. “How is the common good served by going to a horse race, Tatiana? When you can explain that, then maybe I will see things your way.”