The stars were in disarray. The wheel of fortune had turned against Ashey. School was back after a long break, thanks to Mariel’s knack for fixing everything. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong.

  Just because the near future was horrible didn’t mean she couldn’t look gorgeous while suffering in it. She gave a little twirl in front of her mirror, a little too in love with her new school uniform.

  “I can’t wait to get mine.” Neva clung to the edge of Ashey’s bed, ready to strip the uniform off her cousin’s back the moment she wasn’t watching. “Did you really sew this by yourself?” she asked Verimae, who was standing near the mirror, admiring her handiwork too.

  “Only the alterations, yes,” said Verimae. “You wouldn’t need my help if the school got your measurements right.”

  “They’ll never get the skirt length right,” said Neva. “I want mine shorter than Ashey’s.”

  “It can be arranged.”

  “Are you my fairy godmother?” asked Neva. “I feel like we’ve known each other for years.”

  “Hey, go find your own faerie.” Ashey shooed Neva off before she got too close to Verimae. “Verimae’s my friend.”

  With her packed lunch ready and her school bag loaded, Ashey waited at the gate for Mariel’s driver to pick her up.

  “No slouching,” said Verimae, straightening Ashey’s shoulders. “Remember what I told you?”

  “I am the sun,” said Ashey.

  “Say it like you mean it.”

  “I am the sun,” she repeated. “Everything is beneath me.”

  There were those who walked in groups, others who got down from the school bus, and people like her who arrived by private transport. As long as you wore the white and sky blue, you were treated the same. It was one of the reasons she had chosen this school in the first place. Most of the earthen students barely knew who she was — and those who did didn’t treat her with the same reverence your everyday rhen Henrikian would.

  Over the years, however, a number of incidents she had been involved in had brought more and more attention to her. More of the student body were starting to look at her differently. It wasn’t entirely her fault, for the most part, but there was nothing she could do to change whatever it was they thought about her.

  Walking across the main compound, friend groups engaged in laughter went quiet when she got too close. There were those who pretended they weren’t talking about her, struggling to make it discreet. After morning assembly, the small gathering dispersed into their friend groups again. There was a lot of catching up to do. She went straight to class, as was required of them.

  The Final Years were on the topmost floor of Block E, which occupied the west wing of the school. She had to climb up the metal stairs and walk past two other classrooms before she got to hers. A few of her classmates were already there, loitering about.

  She went all the way to the back — the last desk in the last column of the last row, tucked in the corner. “No, everyone is beneath me,” she said. She wouldn’t sit at the back this term. Ashey placed her bag on the first-row seat.

  “It’s taken,” said Weasel. He was skinny, with really big ears and buck teeth. She didn’t know his real name because she’d never heard anyone call him by anything else.

  Ashey took the desk on the second row. No problems so far. She settled in before the rest of her classmates walked in. Anytime someone new entered, they would raise an eyebrow or freeze for a moment, seeing where she sat.

  “What in the world has gotten into you, Ms Sorel?” Don Roy was here. She hadn’t expected him to be in school for at least another week. His shirt was untucked, with the top button loose and a briefcase thrown over his shoulder. Easily, he was the tallest and largest boy in the class — and the only one with a beard coming in. He tipped his chin at Ashey. “Come to the back.”

  “Nope.” Ashey shook her head. “I have to take my studies seriously this term.”

  “You say that every year.” Illah pushed Don Roy out of her way. Weasel hopped off the desk he’d been sitting on, hurried over to the desk Ashey had wanted, and presented it as Illah’s.

  “I saved you the spot, just like I promised,” he said.

  “How sweet,” said Illah, sitting. “Thank you.”

  Weasel grinned, pulling the chair behind the desk next to Illah’s.

  “Um, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “I saved this one for myself,” said Weasel.

  Illah seethed. “I forgot to tell you — Noreen asked me to save her a seat. I want her to have this one.”

  “That’s fine, I’ll take the other one.” He crossed over to Illah’s left-hand side. She dropped her bag on the chair before he could reach it.

  “I’m saving that one for Dan.”

  Ashey’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t too late to change seats. The last thing she wanted was to be sitting behind Illah and her semi-ugly boyfriend all term.

  “Hey, Ash.” She turned to see Wendell. They weren’t friends, but she remembered him because he wouldn’t stop bothering her about Jenne. Wendell and his friends were into comic books and video games — those sorts of things. “We were waiting all through Geles for any updates about Jenne. Is he still missing?”

  “He’s not missing,” said Ashey. “He’s away. On a secret mission.”

  Wendell grew interested. She’d made a mistake. He pulled the chair next to hers and asked her to give him details.

  “Well, I can’t tell you the really secret stuff, but you’ve been loyal fans, so I’ll tell you.”

  Illah’s ear twitched. Ashey bit her lip, stopping herself from tittering.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Wendell told her to hold on. He got a folder from under his desk and opened it up on Ashey’s. They were drawings of Jenne.

  “I wanted him to have them,” he said. “Can you give them to him for me?”

  “Sure,” said Ashey.

  “Alright, the holidays are over, everyone settle down.”

  Mr Douglas had been teaching them Maths since their first year in Junior High. He was yet to change his maroon trousers and brown shoes. A tall, lanky man with a really bad haircut — probably all he could afford on a teacher’s pay.

  Mr Douglas wrote his rules on the board, like he always did. He would not tolerate noise-makers or latecomers — the usual things. But this time, he had something new to add.

  “You are Final Years now, and for some of you, it means you’ll be graduating to high school at the end of the term. Spend some time during the course of the term to find and apply to the high school of your choice. If you have a problem, you can visit the counsellor’s office for advice.

  “For the rest of you — the backbenchers who refuse to learn — you’ll meet me here next year for the same announcement.”

  All eyes turned to Don Roy. He lifted a hand to acknowledge the class.

  Ashey raised her hand. “Can we apply to schools abroad?”

  “Are you asking for yourself or for a friend?” Mr Douglas asked. “Noreen, if you have something to say, raise your hand and say it yourself.”

  “It’s for myself, Sir,” said Ashey. “I’m the one who wants to study abroad.”

  Douglas narrowed his eyes, leaning on the teacher’s desk. “What school do you want to go to?”

  She didn’t want to say it in front of the whole class, but Verimae had asked her to make enquiries. “The Galeon, Sir.”

  “The Galeon,” Mr Douglas mouthed. The corners of his lips twitched. “Why not? Privilege can get you to wonderful places.”

  “I’ve no clue if it’s possible for me to get in. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “What about that prince of yours? Aren’t you sailing away to Yuna soon?”

  Ashey said nothing.

  “Hm?” Mr Douglas pressed. “Why bother with high school?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your concern, Sir,” Ashey said quietly.

  “True. That’s true. It’s not my business to tell you whether the Galeon accepts foreign students or not. You can go to the counsellor’s office in your own free time.”

  About half an hour into the lesson, an announcement came through the PA system: Ashamel Sorel was to move to the visitor’s lounge.

  “It’s always something with you,” murmured Mr Douglas.

  Glen Jacobs had a small front office, and to see the staff standing outside, making room for those inside, told Ashey all she needed to know. Seeing the leaf-green attire of the Yunnish delegates tempted her to leave right then. A shame she’d already fallen for the trap.

  About twenty diplomats had their eyes on her. Standing in the middle of them was none other than the prince. Beside him, on one end, was a man with a large silver necklace; on the other, a lady holding up a violet cushion.

  “Forgive us for intruding on your studies, Ms Sorel. Had this not been a matter of urgency, we would not have come,” said the man with the necklace.

  Ashey stopped at the entrance, watching the prince. The longer she stared at his blank face, the more she wanted to scratch it off.

  “It seems your relationship with our prince has soured following the death of your former teacher, Ren Vicious. Your feelings matter greatly to us. Thus, we have come to persuade you to rethink your decision to marry His Highness.”

  “There’s nothing he can say that would change my mind,” said Ashey. “Can I please leave now? I’m missing class.”

  The diplomat opened his arm, gesturing towards the lady with the cushion. “It is not the prince who shall do the speaking, Ms Sorel, but his father.”

  A phone lay on the cushion. It started to ring. She supposed this was Schevara’s father. Wait—wasn’t he the Emperor of Yuna? The biggest and single most powerful man in the entire world.

  Oh, she wasn’t feeling too well.

  The diplomats began to peel off their robes, leaving their shoulders and chests bare. Slowly, they went down on one knee and bowed their heads. Schevara remained standing, as did the man with the silver necklace. When Ashey picked up the phone, the faerie bowed as well.

  That tongue she was so fond of had lost its way in her mouth. Every ring of the phone tickled her numb, sweaty palm.

  “You’re the sun,” she whispered. “You’re the sun.”

  Ashey answered the phone.

  Silence filled the room. She did not speak. He did not speak. They simply listened to each other’s thoughts.

  Please be nice. Please be nice. Please be nice.

  “Are you the one who says my son is not good enough for you?”

  “No, no, I would never say that.”

  “So why do you refuse his hand?”

  “I wanted to. It would have been a dream come true, but I cannot. My grandfather has asked me to come stay with him at the Galeon. I would not be able to perform my duties as a wife to the prince.”

  “Ashel has contacted you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And when are you set to leave?”

  “No later than a month, Sir.”

  The man she was speaking to stopped talking. The conversation would have to end soon. Standing on her feet was growing into a chore.

  “What my Treshim says about you reminds me a lot of how your mother used to be. You gamble with gods and spirits and expect to win each time. Schevara is much too tame for the likes of you. Only men with metal blood can handle a Sorel it seems. You have another suitor, little Solis — a man who can withstand the heat of the burning sun.”

  “I won’t be around to meet him, Sir,” she said. “I’ll be gone before he comes.”

  “How do you know he is not already here?” he asked. “Do you know who ensures your family wakes up every morning without having your throat slit in your sleep? The god who answers your prayers is me.”

  Her head was gone. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to go.

  “As per what you said, you should be out of Henrikia in a month’s time. Suppose you change your mind from now until then, Schevara shall take you back. You shall bear children for him, and your family will continue to thrive under my protection. Should you insist on becoming an academic, my ship will leave after the month is over, and Schevara will leave your country, bringing my grace home with him.”

  She did not eat at lunch or drink anything, despite how dry her lips had become. Ashey sat alone in the classroom long after the closing bell had rung. A long, endless frequency rang in her head. It was the only thing she could focus on.

  “Ashey?”

  Noreen had been the girl at the cinema washroom the other day. Ashey hadn’t recognised her out of uniform. Noreen’s shirt was almost always oversized because of how small she was.

  She placed a hand on Ashey, waiting for a response. When none came, she set a brown bag on the table. Opening it up, she revealed a doughnut. “I didn’t see you eat today,” she said. “I bought this for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I think what you did was really cool,” said Noreen. “Mr Douglas needs to start minding his own business.”

  Ashey smiled a little. “Thank you.”

  “Is it true, though?” asked Noreen, taking out the snack for her. “Do you really want to study at the Galeon?”

  Ashey took a bite and nodded in succession.

  “I checked the numbers,” said Noreen, “and they have a point-seven percent acceptance rate for foreign students. I think we should both try. We’ll increase the odds of one of us getting in.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” Noreen shrugged. “We should see the counsellor tomorrow. I heard he’s got a new assistant—a Solvarian lady. They banned the boys from visiting the office because of her.”

  “It must be a sign,” Ashey said.

  “It is,” said Noreen, waving. “See you tomorrow.”

  Sunset.

  A golden sky spread over the Home of Heroes. She had spent a long time away from this place. Ashey stood before the rubble she used to call home. Golden pillars stemmed from the ground, running from the Deus household to her old home.

  “Men with metal blood.” Her father had metal blood. He was pretty strong too. Ashey had a faulty memory about times like that, though she would never forget how her friends protected her.

  She held up one of Wendell’s artworks, gripping it tight at the edges. It was a drawing of Jenne and Hamis at Se Fina, taking some time to cool off after a day of training. Wherever they were, she wished they were home. She forced her eyes shut until they hurt.

  Ashey squatted and picked up a stone from the grass. She stepped onto the sidewalk and scraped a triangle, placed three dots within it, and drew a circle around the hex. It was a ripper hex—you used it to contact people whose phone numbers you didn’t have.

  Hamis had left his old phone behind. She knew because when last she called, it was his father who answered. She pressed her phone on the sigil and thought of Hamis in her mind’s eye. If Hamis had a new phone, she should be able to reach him.

  It worked. His contact appeared.

  Ashey pressed the phone against her ear. The sun crawled further down behind the hills. The shadows grew taller, climbing the golden pillars.