When Copper Suns Fall (8 page)

“Well, I’ll be given the Light. She’s finally
awake. Explain this.” Bess pointed at the window and propped the
other hand on her hip.

“What are you doing in here?” My mouth tasted
as if I’d eaten a whole notebook. I moved my puffy-eyed gaze to the
clock beside my bed. The cupid’s arms positioned themselves on the
harp’s strings at twelve thirty. No way. To sleep past eight in the
morning was a sin in my survival book.

A headache rolled in my temples and neck, and
my eyes felt as if I’d cried a river into my bed. Faint sausage
odors drifted through the door. Thoughts of chomping down soybean
meat stirred up the nausea again.

“Did you hear me, little lady? What happened
to this window?” My stepmother, Bess, grilled me about more damage
to yet another precious structure.

I considered a few smart answers: “I saw dead
people do it.” “The ghost girl from our backyard cemetery did it.”
Or… “A voodoo woman visited me last night and broke the window
instead of my leg.” Okay, um, no. So, I said, “Could I please wake
up, first? I can’t even see straight this early.”

Father stood in the doorway. He squinted to
focus on my face because he wasn’t wearing his glasses. Right away,
an image of Dr. Van Meter’s face and his snakeskin lips invaded my
mind. Warmth crept over my ears, anger returning.

Cornice Manor’s stage was set. In corner one,
Father stood with his ruddy-olive skin, wavy black hair, amber eyes
with specks of gold—mirrors of my own looks. His quiet style
reminded me so much of Micah. Adding to the intrigue was his
reputation as a super-smart Historian. In Castle Hayne, this made
him one of the coolest fathers pampered by the Tribunal. He had
even ridden the Q-train back and forth between all eight Boroughs,
filling me in on his travels each time he returned. A benefit
reserved for the Tribunal’s best, my father, Mr. Elite.

Steaming in the opposite corner, Bess,
fanatical member of Sisters for the Restoration of Southern Glory,
held her ground. The broken window mattered more to her than me.
The home, Cornice, a restored plantation and oddity itself, made
the perfect backdrop for the strange occupants. Its shadowy
exterior—red brick, black roof, metallic columns all around like
the bars of a jail—was painted in a bloody color, so everything
blended together.

Few houses from the historical days were
preserved after the hurricanes destroyed the cities. Cornice amazed
Father’s colleagues because the house sat in a place where a river
called the Cape Fear used to flow into the ocean. Sitting high up
on a hill overlooking the Black River, the house had survived the
Tidal Years with virtually no damage unlike other things in Castle
Hayne.

“Do you see this, James? I walk in here,
wondering why Chela wasn’t at breakfast. I even brought her morning
ale-med. Guess what I see as soon as I walk through the door?” She
pointed at the broken window. Her dark curls shook like mini
volcanoes. Her body always seemed to rumble when she got angry. A
giggle tickled my cheeks. It faded quickly when, I glanced at the
card lying on the desk beside her. I also realized I’d now gone one
full day without drinking the required ale-med.

I sat up too fast and regretted it. Dizziness
washed over me again. Peanut hopped down to the floor and trotted
over to his favorite corner. Yeah, I probably busted the window
sometime after Jalen and Lex had tucked me into bed.

I placed my feet on the floor, bowed my head.
This usually triggered Father’s cue to step in. Instead, he stood
beside Bess, massaging his chin. He was staring out the damaged
window and toward the cemetery in the backyard. After a long
moment, he turned to me.

“Headache?” he said. I nodded.

He strolled over to the bed and palmed my
forehead. A gust carrying a sweet, honeysuckle scent flowed into
the room and tipped over a muski glass filled with marbles sitting
on my desk. Balls rolled across the floor, mingling with the glass
fragments.

After blackouts, things broke around me—a
window here, a door falling off the hinges there. Each time I came
out of one, I’d find myself at any unexpected place, standing over
any broken object. Father and I dealt with these things when life
was about the three of us six years ago. That was before Micah’s
accident, and before he was paired with Bess. Now I hardly ever see
him because he’s always traveling between Boroughs.

“I won’t have the girls breaking things in my
house, James.” Bess lowered her voice to a whisper, as if I
wouldn’t be able to hear what she said. As they debated the damage,
she inched back toward five marbles scattered on the floor. Her
feet rolled across two clear green ones. Her arms and legs wind
milled just before she thudded to the floor.

I closed my eyes, squeezed them tight. Father
would taser me if I laughed. He reached out to Bess and stumbled on
two marbles as he tried to pull her up.

“Mother, why are you down there?” Bess’s
daughter, Audrina the ungifted, drifted into the room. Her black
bob was flat on one side. Her green-eyed glance darted from Bess to
Father and then me. “What did the queen of wannabe normal do this
time?” Her smug face reminded me of the border guard from last
night and his sarcastic expression. Dumb faces.

“At least I do want to be something.” I was
not in a Princess Audrina mood today.

“Sure you do, as in wannabe sent to Minders
Camp,” Audrina said.

“The clock said midnight when you stumbled in
last night.” I used a bluff tactic because, I didn’t know what time
Audrina had come in, or how I managed to break the window. Somebody
needed to shut her up, though. She gave me a nervous face. My plan
worked. Well, maybe not.

“Is that, right? What did it have to say
about Governor Winthrope’s assistant who came to see you this
morning while you pretended to be sleeping?” Audrina said,
emphasizing the last few words. A rush of anxiety surged into my
chest and inched its way up to my head. Hearing a government
official had stopped by rattled me.

A strong gust surged into the window and blew
our hair around. The Judges hadn’t wasted any time. They didn’t
even give me the option of attending a trial first. But I knew why.
The government girl, who should know better, was going to be made
into an example.

“Enough.” Father’s deep voice bellowed over
us like a god. Silence fell over the room. He turned to me. Here,
we go. “Governor Winthrope’s assistant, Yolanda Fuquay, stopped by.
She wanted to discuss your situation. There are a few ways to
minimize the term.”

Paint me rebellious, but I still had all
kinds of mixed feelings about kids serving terms just because we
braved up and stepped off the white line every so often. “Okay,
what do I have to do?” I said.

“Those of us in the Tribunal’s graces are not
always immune,” he said.

“Father, please? You’re stalling. What did
they decide?”

“Minders Camp,” he said without hesitation.
My heart fluttered. Audrina scoffed. “And in two months, you’ll
participate in Swordfest as the opening act. Defeat the reigning
champion in the costing evaluations on this coming Monday and your
camp term will go from four months to eight weeks.” A silence fell
over the room. Even Bess, who didn’t know the meaning of the word
quiet looked upset.

It was hard to believe they’d assign a
Historian’s daughter to a double dose of violence. They’d given me
five detention marks to match what I’d done: assault, three damaged
pieces of property, and working as an unqualified guide (oh come on
with that one). The only brightness in all of this was my Swordfest
sponsor could end up being the governor herself if I managed to
beat her champion at the costing evaluations.

“Now do you understand, girls? You must be
home before curfew. You must follow the rules. These are troubled
times. Children disappearing. Outcasts walking the streets and
blending in with girls like you,” he said to Audrina and me. He
cleared his throat. “There is even a rumor claiming exiles may have
caused the Cradleshack’s ceiling border to collapse last
night.”

A cold, dull feeling rushed through me when I
heard the word exiles.

“I hope you’re joking with me,” I said to
Father. “You can’t let them do this.” His shoulders slumped, his
face squinted into a frown. He was more worried than he was letting
me see. I’d lost this battle. Father always stood firm in his
beliefs about the Tribunal’s right to decide what’s best for peace
breakers. He wouldn’t dare go against them, not even if it meant
sacrificing his daughter, or even saving his son. Nobody was brave
enough to challenge the Tribunal.

Especially when it came to the rules.

“Please, Bessi. Let me speak to my daughter
about some things.” In a softer voice, he said, “If you don’t
mind.” Bess turned, spun Audrina around, and left the room with a
slam that knocked two books out of the cases beside my door. And
here I was on trial for damaging the house, go figure.

“Why do I have to do all this? Can’t you pull
rank and use your Historian charm?”

“You’ve trained for years. I have no doubt
you can handle this.” His idea of training was me fooling around in
our backyard with Jalen, and me entering a few local contests.

“Swordfest maybe. But Minders Camp?” I said,
feeling my neck tighten with worry. “Kids disappear in those woods
around the camp. It doesn’t matter, though. I’ll just play my harp
for all those wild animals in the woods. Then maybe they won’t
attack me.”

“You received five marks in one day. One of
them was because a contender made you angry, and you marked the boy
as unclassifiable. Be thankful you’re only assigned to the opening
act, and thank the Falling Lights they didn’t have you arrested.
Which they could have done and with justifiable reason,” he said in
a firm tone.

“Oh no. We can’t let them do that. Then you’d
have two kids to be ashamed of.” I lowered my eyes to avoid the
look on his face.

In an even voice, he said, “I’ve always said
you had a purpose. You’re special.” Moving closer, he cupped my
face and lifted it.

He meant that I didn’t have the enhanced
chromosome gene, the same one that made Lucia a genius and Jalen
super stealthy. Instead, I was a distant relative to the seraphim
class of angels like my mother. They weren’t slayers like the
Caduceans or masters of dark alchemy like the Tainted, but a
different kind, a mysterious class. Somehow, they’d managed to
avoid being recorded in the Essential Archives, but still
classified as illegal.

Mother’s people formed a balance between the
two celestial groups. At some point, the Memories would come to
either Micah or me, and we needed to be ready. That was all she
ever told Father. We had no idea what the Memories were, or would
do. She was as much a mystery to him as she was to me.

My true identity was our secret, and I loved
having Father to myself this way. Until last night, I had never
understood the things he told me.

Now I understood the Tribunal wasn’t the only
thing that posed a threat to the world’s angel-bloods, the few of
us left in hiding.

“Helena was also rambunctious when she began
her pre-career. She also had to learn the art of control. Even with
all her feistiness, her name was on top of the most requested
suitable list. She was certainly at the top of mine. How very much
like her, you are.” It was the first time he’d ever talked so
openly about the way he met Mother. My skin tingled with
excitement, and I was hungry to learn more.

In my heart, I knew that if she were alive,
then Dr. Van Meter would never realize his plans. Father cleared
his throat, and said, “My main concern is what Jalen told me when
he called this morning. You fainted?”

I nodded. But I wasn’t going to let him avoid
talking about Micah this time. “I went to the park. Back to the
place where those Tainteds pushed Micah,” I said.

“No one pushed your brother. There hasn’t
been a Tainted sighting in decades,” he said.

“Maybe they’re just not looking hard enough
to see them. Maybe they’re like us, blending in with the gifted
kids,” I said. He gave me a blank face. “I had to do something,
Father. Why can’t you understand?” My voice faded inside my
tightening throat, and angry heat prickled my underarms.

“I know that going back to a place that we
both agreed you wouldn’t go has caused you to have a blackout for
the first time in years. Stranger things are going to start
happening the closer you get to your sixteenth birthday.” He
stopped talking and sighed. “What if Jalen hadn’t been there last
night? You must be careful. Taking too many risks stresses out your
luck fairy. She may not want to grant anymore wishes if you abuse
her good nature.”

“What’s so risky? Why are you letting them
bully us this way? What if I slip up in camp and break another
window? Or even worse, I get angry and toss something at a
Thoughtmaster? Or maybe it doesn’t matter to you.”

“We mean what by that statement?” he
said.

“I mean you would let them vesselize me. The
same way you agreed to let them use Micah.” I regretted the words
as soon as I said them; but the lash of an angry tongue was always
a painful one for both the giver and taker in the end.

“I’ve always told you Micah’s accident was
just that, an accident. It wasn’t your fault, CC.” He used my
nickname, an abbreviation of my first and middle names…Chela
Ceylone. He sighed before lowering his eyes. His face showed more
wrinkles than I’d ever seen. Why hadn’t I noticed them? When did
Father and I grow so far apart?

“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”
I said. He lifted his chin and gave me a stern, side glance. “Dr.
Van Meter wants to vesselize Micah. He said you knew about it.”

“Stop this obsession with your brother.”