Excerpt

I'm falling through the air.

Darkness surrounds me with a single spotlight focused on my descent. Above me, the infinity of the galaxy. Below me, blackness. The crowd holds a collective breath in anticipation as I seem to hang there.

My dress wings out behind me, the base a bright, tiger orange that bleeds into a bodice of deep turquoise. It wraps tight around my torso in intricate ropes and twists, Zerias crystals dotting it like constellations. Their iridescent surfaces send out rainbows like arrows into the dark.

This next move is new, something no audience has seen yet. On a normal night, I wouldn't be worried about performing it, but tonight is different. It's laced with a lingering and preoccupying sadness. And in this business, distraction can be deadly.

High Queen Laerkin has been assassinated. The news has only just reached the circus, but that's the way it is for travelers, always days—or months—late to current events. I can't afford the grief right now, but it's hard to ignore. Her sudden death signals changes to the Xerus Galaxy and its ruling council that have far reaching ramifications. For the galaxy.

For me.

"Mommy, she's falling!"

The child's shriek yanks my attention back to the present. I'm almost too low, but not yet.

My hands fly out for the timed release of the next fly bar. It's meters, then centimeters away. I snatch it and propel myself forward, legs and pointed toes swinging to gain momentum. My dress whips back with the force of air rushing at me. At the apex of the arc, I let go and twist. My arms wrap across my body, legs flying over my head in not one, not two, but three flips before I extend to my full length. I feel the stretch from my toes to the tips of my fingers.

The next timed bar has released, and I'm there to meet it. Both hands grip the cool metal, and I flip so my abdomen rests against the bar. Arms push straight, and I smile—all white teeth and confidence as if I didn't almost plummet to my death on the duraplast floor twenty meters below.

"And that, folks, is Talie Zarna—the Soaring Starress." Delmar's magnified voice fills the auditorium. "Give her a round of applause."

I'm greeted with cheers and claps that echo against the curved walls.

My spotlight extinguishes, and I'm left swaying in darkness, rolling sore shoulders and thanking the stars I'm done. It's been a long day, and I can't wait to relax, take a bath, and sleep.

Delmar continues the post-show wrap-up and, with a subtle nod from me, one of the stagehands retracts my fly bar to the descent platform. I climb on, and it discreetly takes me down to the showroom floor where I can exit offstage, pulling my holomask free as I go.

A rush of cool air greets me in the backstage hallway. The space is cluttered with plastice trunks of props and multi-colored outfits, and it carries the musky scent of dreyhass. I wrinkle my nose.

"Sorry, Sti had a little accident tonight." Maxon tries to hide his amusement, but his vertical pupils sparkle in his gray eyes.

"On stage?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Actually, right where you're standing."

I look down to where my bare feet rest. It's clean now, but just the thought makes me jump forward a meter.

"There too." Maxon's smile widens. Now that the show is over, he's dressed in his navy-blue staff onesuit, but he's still got his makeup on, giving the smile an animalistic effect.

Disgust wrinkles my nose, and I rush down the hall to the sound of his laughter, low and rumbling.

"Where are you running to?" Freyda strides around the corner, long-legged. Her lips and eyelids are naturally inked like midnight, and she wears a simple, floor-length tunic the color of dried blood. It's belted at the waist; the attached Melorite loops a cultural signifier of her status—Meloran premier.

"Sti—"

"Say no more." She groans and closes her eyes. "It happened right after my act. Disgusting."

Freyda is my best friend aboard the Midway, the ship that houses the Circus Phenomena. She made it a point to befriend me immediately upon my arrival. Our bond has only strengthened over the cycles, and I don't know what I'd do without her.

"How did it go?" she asks.

"Good." My hesitation is obvious.

"I thought it looked spectacular, though you had me wondering about that last catch. Cutting it close, weren't you?" Her aqua blue eyes narrow, assessing me for the truth.

"I was just tired. You know how I get with a new routine."

"I do, but you need to be careful, Tal." Her black-lipped smile wavers, and there's caution behind the intensity of it—a warning I don't need, but she already knows that. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Positive." I force confidence behind the word.

"As you say." She dips her head in a gesture of assent, then motions toward an adjacent hallway. "Would you like to get a snack with me? I was just headed to the galley."

She knows I can't say no to the Quaras 6 ice cream that was stocked at our last supply dock, but tonight my emotions are all over the place, and I won't be good company.

"Tomorrow?"

She looks at me like I've morphed into a double-headed iduos. "You are turning down ice cream? Are you ill?"

"Just tired. We'll get some tomorrow—I promise."

With reluctance displayed in every part of her body, Freyda turns down the hall. She gives me one last pleading look before she rounds the corner to the galley. I'm lucky to have her as a friend, and any other night I would go with her, but not tonight. Tonight, I want to be alone.

I continue down the hall, my bare feet cold on the dark gray duraplast, but I soon divert my path to the outer passway. It's my favorite route back to my berth, with both the exterior wall and ceiling made of clear, sio-glass panes. Stars pinprick the view to my right while the planet we're stationed at spans out beneath me in a clouded swirl of browns and greens.

I opt for this route when I can. It helps me avoid the crowds leaving by way of the open concourse where food stalls and shops will capture their last credits before they disembark. I stop and stare at the cloud patterns below. I can't even remember the name of this stop, proof I've been with the circus so long it's become my life. My world. I barely remember a time before the Phenomena.

The reflection that stares back at me through the sio-glass reminds me that's not completely true. There are memories of my parents before they were taken from me in a transport crash. Memories of my twin sister. Memories of aunts and uncles and—

Reality crashes into me like a Cistus tidal wave. High Queen Laerkin is dead. The rumors say she was murdered by a rogue assassin aligned with the Rising, but is it true? Since when have things become so unbalanced that an underground rebellion is gaining force in the galaxy through terror and acts of violence?

I rest my head against the icy surface of the sio-glass, eyes closed. A lone tear streaks down my makeup-caked cheek, but I don't brush it away. Let it stay there as outward evidence of my inward grief. The grief no one can understand because they can't know the truth. More than just my stage makeup is a lie.

A door slides open down the hallway, and I immediately straighten. No one uses this passway on show nights. It's part of the reason I take it—a little slice of privacy on an overcrowded ship.

Footsteps thud toward me, and I wonder if something is wrong. A security breach perhaps? It's happened before. Overzealous fans trying to see one of their favorite acts or someone begging to join the show to escape indenture or poverty. I should have gotten an alert.

I look down at my empty wrist and curse myself for not keeping my sec-bracelet on. I never wear it to perform. If I'd just left it backstage instead of in my berth, I could contact someone, but I'm all alone in this passway. Just like I wanted.

Out of caution, I slip to the opposite side of the hall and press against a bulkhead. The footfalls move closer and—

They stop. A door slides open and closed. I barely hear it over the pounding of my heart. Are they gone? I wait, utterly still, for any indication of movement, but it's as silent as space.

After a full minute, I relax. It was either a sec-unit checking my movement in the passway or someone who took a wrong turn, but I'm alone again. Good.

I push away from the smooth wall and turn down the hall again, retracing steps I've made a hundred times. The passway is the same, but the view is always different, even if it's only the subtle differences of a new map of stars. I drink in the starlight, and I'm mesmerized. So distracted that I don't see the figure standing in the hall in front of me until it's too late.

"Umph." I walk into the cold wall of a power suit. Gloved fingers latch onto my arms in a viselike grip, immobilizing me. "What in the—?"

"Shhhh."

When I look up, my gaze meets golden brown eyes trained on me with fierce intensity. They are the only thing I can see since the rest of the figure is covered in black matte armor from head to booted foot.

Soldier.

Instinct kicks in, and I try to wrestle free. His brow furrows, and he fights to keep a grip on me, flipping me around and wrapping an arm around my middle. I'm pressed against him, a hard wall of armor at my back, but I can tell he's holding back. He could snap me in two with the added strength of his power suit, but he doesn't.

"Please." His voice near my ear is muffled by the helmet he wears but insistent. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Then let. Me. Go!" I struggle even harder.

How did he get past security? Is the ship under attack? Adrenaline makes me bold, but fear forces me to be reckless. I jab an elbow into his abdomen, but it's easily deflected by his armor.

Ouch!

"You're going to hurt yourself," he mutters.

With a forced exhale, he releases one of my arms, and I twirl away like this is an awkward dance. I expect freedom until he pulls out a deadly looking blast pistol and points it at my face.

"Stop." His stare burns into me, and I trace the lines running the length of his gun. They pulse a dangerous red. Set to kill. "Hide me, and you'll live."