Land of Masks and Moonlight (Glimpsing Stars, #2) Read online

  Land of Masks and Moonlight

  Glimpsing Stars Series, Book Two

  By S.K. Falls

  Copyright © 2013 by S.K. Falls. All Rights Reserved.

  Scanning, sharing, or giving away any part of this book without the author’s permission is illegal. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Cover Art by RBA Designs

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Land of Masks and Moonlight (Glimpsing Stars, #2)

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  Acknowledgements

  Also by S.K. Falls

  About the Author

  This book is dedicated to my amazing readers.

  CHAPTER ONE

  I lie suspended.

  The sea and sky are one, the horizon obscured by the utter black of night. The ship is a hand, cradling me and the people I care most about. To my right lies my little sister Ceres, long lost and only now recovered. Inside me is my baby, my child, one half of myself. And across from me, my...

  What is he?

  His name is Shale Underwood. He was my Husband back in a world where Husbands were assigned, a world where my sole purpose was to be a vessel to the tiny life that now grows inside me.

  But now...now we are nowhere, certainly not in New Amana and not yet in China. After the Great War nearly 70 years ago, China emerged as the world's default superpower. Though it is nowhere as wealthy as it was before the War, it is still habitable, which is more than can be said about many nations, including New Amana. Called the Great Land by its citizens, China is where we hope to build ourselves a new life.

  As if he can feel my gaze, my thoughts plucking fitfully at him, Shale shifts in his sleep, throwing one arm over his eyes. In the near dark, the whites of the bandages tied so tightly around his middle glow like phosphorous.

  I smooth back a strand of black hair from Ceres's small, thin face. I can hear the sea outside, the waves sloshing against the sides of the great ship. We rock gently back and forth, a motion Ceres always insists is soothing. In my pregnant state, the motion has me perpetually nauseated.

  Down the passageway with its peeling paint, in another small, musty cabin, lie Lucas, Sara, and Alexander. They are our friends from New Amana who were known as Nukeheads—second-class citizens with deformities from nuclear radiation.

  The ship rolls to the left, and I feel my stomach roll with it. I sit up, one hand across my middle. We have been on the ship three weeks now. They tell us we will dock in China in the next twenty-four hours. Ceres is afraid, but sometimes I catch her golden eyes shining with hope. She is only thirteen, still a child. At twenty-one—my birthday passed sometime on our journey—I feel so much older. And not nearly as optimistic.

  Our goal looms on the horizon; a labor camp in mainland China. I've heard the camps are tough, but not nearly as tough as survival in New Amana was. Since the Chinese value the constant stream of cheap labor from New Amana, we are viewed as a necessary evil. At any rate, it's better than the constant fight for basic necessities in the choking air of our home country.

  After another glance at the two of them, I make my way carefully to the door of our cabin. When I cannot sleep, I sometimes sit on the deck, letting the sea breeze whisper and the ocean waves sing to me. It is a peaceful thing, to sit quietly, surrounded by nothing but sky and water. The stars aren't as obscured here as they were in New Amana. Our ancestors used to imagine shapes in the stars—hunters and bears and bowls—and sometimes I try to see them, too.

  I take a seat on a rusty metal chair and wrap my wool blanket tightly around my shoulders. The temperature in China will be near freezing, they say, much colder than we are used to. It is December, the end of 2078. We stand on the precipice of something new in so many ways.

  The breeze grabs a hold of a strand of my raven hair, blows it in my face. I smooth it back. When I'm able to see again, Shale is beside me, looking at me with an expression I cannot place.

  "Hello." My tone is formal. I do not want to be so hesitant, so awkward with him. We have shared so much. But yet, it is different now. We have no Ceres to rescue, no men shooting at us with guns, no panic and purpose. In this peaceful cradle I am unsure of where we stand at all. Shale hasn’t given any indicators that he still feels for me what I once imagined he did. He was too ill the first week to do much talking. And after that he simply refused to speak about us, as if the words had withered and died. "Couldn't you sleep?"

  His face is too thin, his cheekbones too prominent. His dark eyes, a deep and beautiful brown, are shadowed. He grimaces and grasps his side as he sits in a chair beside me. I automatically reach out to him—to comfort or soothe—and pull back. When he turns to me, the expression he had earlier—that look that said he had something to tell me, but didn't know where to start—is gone. "No. I saw that you had left, and I decided to join you. I hope that's all right."

  "Of course." I pull the blanket tighter around me and glance at him out of the corner of my eye. "Your wounds...They don't seem to be healing quickly."

  "They will once we have access to proper medicine." Then he looks at me. "I'm more worried about you. And the baby."

  "I'm fine. And so is she." I put my hand on my stomach.

  Shale's fingers twitch, as if he's resisting touching it with everything he has. "She?"

  "Perhaps just an instinct," I say, looking out toward the sea.

  "Oh." The word is a sigh.

  I want to ask Shale what he means, and why his forehead is creased like that. That expression again, as though he has so much to say, but doesn't know how to say it. It is like our time together never happened, as if all that we went through while we were apart has erased the conversations, the touches, the words from before. As if we have become different people.

  But I don't have the chance to mention what I'm thinking. We hear footsteps, rushing toward us. We swing our heads around to look, wondering who is up at this hour, when only wounded men and pregnant women haunt the decks. Two Radicals round the corner, their faces pale as moons, their mouths tight and grim.

  Shale and I stand up, and he barely winces at the pain this time. "What is it?" he asks, his voice steady. "What's happened?"

  Because it's obvious that something has happened. Something that will change the course of our lives. Even in the moment, I am sure of this fact. I am sure.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Rad men s
top when Shale accosts them. They look from him to me and back.

  One of them, Stephan, is a man I know in passing. He's been on watch in the past when I've paced the decks in an attempt to control my nausea. Of course, he's dressed just like the rest of us, in serviceable gray wool pants and a gray tunic. We are all supposed to be immigrants from New Amana. But his purpose is to keep a lookout, to ensure that no government ships—either New Amanian or Chinese—catch us unawares.

  Stephan and I chatted a bit on those late nights; he knows I'm pregnant. Now, he looks at me with pity in his eyes. "We have word. When we dock tomorrow, Chinese Monitors are going to do a search of the ship to authenticate the identities of passengers."

  Shale looks at me. Time stops for a moment. The wave that was about to slosh against the side of the ship pauses, as if listening for my reaction. The plangent creak of the ship's rusted hull ceases. I breathe in, then out. I think, No. No, not when we've come this far.

  When we escaped New Amana, we knew being on a ship didn’t guarantee our safety. Once New Amanian officials learned about what had happened at the refugee camp, they put out an alert for us. But the ship's captain, Jerome, is a Sympathetic.

  Although he is supposed to be on the side of the New Amanian government, he—and a few key crew members—support the Radicals. They told New Amana they did a check and that none of the fugitives were on board. I honestly thought we’d gotten away with it.

  Shale says, "What's the plan?"

  The man with Stephan speaks. "Some of our contacts are bringing ‘round fishermen's row boats. But they won't dare get too close to the ship, just in case the other passengers or crew realize what's happening."

  "Then how are we to get on them?" I look at Stephan, urging him silently to tell me the news straight, however painful it might be to hear. This is not a time for tact.

  "You must jump," Stephan replies, his eyes flat. "Those of us who want to escape have no other choice."

  Jump.

  The word hangs in the air and we all look at it. Jump off the ship, fifteen meters into frigid waters. We must then swim until we meet the waiting boats. There is no guarantee, of course. We might jump, only to be swallowed by the ocean. Or maybe this is a trap and there are no waiting boats. Maybe we'll disappear into the night, our bodies frozen in a tribute to the pull of freedom.

  Shale and I look at each other. I nod. There is nothing to do but try. Because if we wait here, if there are indeed checks when we dock, we will all be interrogated and put to the death. Jumping is our only chance at survival, grim as it is.

  Stephan and the other Rad tell us we have a half hour. Then we must go to the lowest deck and, under cover of moonlight, plunge into the waiting ocean.

  I walk back to our cabin with Shale so close behind me I can feel the heat of his skin. As we pass other cabins, we hear people coughing and moaning in their sleep. This journey has not been kind to us. Many passengers have perished of diseases, with no medical attention. But now we must do something even riskier than attempting this journey. Have we kept ourselves safe and healthy only to succumb at this point in our journey?

  Once the door closes behind us, it is completely dark. I keep my hands out in front of me until my eyes can adjust; I don't want to stumble and startle Ceres.

  When my knees hit the edge of our bed, I sit next to my curled-up, sleeping sister while Shale stands off to the side. I feel his presence, solid and steady, his bandages glowing in my peripheral vision in the dark. I wonder how he will swim with his wounds, how much pain he will be in when the salt water hits them. But I know life is a great motivator. I know he will find a way. He must.

  I smooth Ceres’s hair. She whimpers in her sleep. Even though she is nearly a young woman, in my mind she is still five, the age she was when the Escorts came for her in New Amana. I feel as though those years when she was in the Asylum and I carried on with my life never happened, as if they passed in another universe, another reality.

  "Ceres," I whisper. "Ceres, wake up."

  She gasps—a small, scared sound—and her eyes fly open. Though I can't see her mesmerizing gold irises, I can see the whites of her eyes as she searches out the person who woke her. I wonder how she was woken in the Asylum.

  "Vikki?"

  My heart clenches at her nickname for me, one that was conceived when she was too little to say Vika properly. "Yes. It's time to wake up. We have to leave."

  "Leave?" She sits up, and I feel the heat of sleep wafting off her. "Are...w-we in...China?"

  "No. There's been some trouble. New Amana has notified the Chinese that we might be on board. We have to abandon the ship."

  She looks at me, and I can only imagine the panicked thoughts tumbling through her broken mind.

  "We're to jump off and swim toward waiting boats. It's going to be all right. I promise." I wonder if I'm lying to her. If she'll forgive me if something bad happens yet again. But there is no time to do anything else.

  Ceres doesn’t move. I wait. Perhaps she needs time to process what I’ve told her. But the utter stillness in her limbs, the way she doesn’t budge even when I say her name, is wrong. I grab her hands, but she doesn’t seem to register my touch. She is like a doll—lifeless.

  "Ceres." I try tugging on her to encourage her to move, to react, but she is too heavy.

  Then Shale is there, gathering Ceres into his arms without effort. He puts one arm around her shoulders, pulls her snug against his torso. I put one hand on her bony back and realize she’s just a small, thin child, trembling, so very afraid. At Shale’s touch, she thaws out and begins to cry. He soothes her with shushing noises, and I stare in wonder at this side of him.

  "It's all right," he says, his voice calm and deep, steady. "It's going to be fine. We're going to stay together, no matter what. You, Vikki, and me. Okay?"

  Ceres is still trembling, but I see her nod. Shale releases her and she swings her legs over the side to get out of bed. He looks at me.

  "I'll go round up some rope, see if I can get some more information," he says. "Could you inform Sara and Lucas?"

  A few cabins down from us, they are most likely sleeping peacefully, unaware of the magnitude with which their lives are to change course yet again.

  "Of course," I say. "We'll meet you on the bottom deck."

  I'm waiting for him to leave, wondering why he hasn't moved yet, when I feel his fingers caress my cheek. Before I can respond, before I can even form a thought, he is gone, the door closing softly behind him. I hug Ceres tighter.

  CHAPTER THREE

  We walk quickly to Sara's cabin without running into any other Rads or crew members. Seeing the ship so quiet, so calm, when so much is happening right under the surface is unsettling. The hairs on the nape of my neck are at constant attention, waiting for the next blow to fall.

  I knock on the door and Sara answers a few minutes later. Her face is creased where her bed linens pressed into her skin, making the red pustules there stand out even more. The Nukeheads suffered so many deformities as a result of the War. But now that Sara and I are friends, I barely notice these disfigurements at all.

  "Vika?" She blinks, as if to make sure she isn't dreaming, and rakes a hand through her patchy, frizzy hair. "What's happened? Is it the baby?"

  I shake my head and tighten my grip on Ceres's arm. After her catatonia when I woke her up, I don't dare leave her alone.

  "Get Alexander and rouse Lucas." I keep my voice low. "We have to disembark."

  "Disembark?" She looks at me a long moment in confusion before stepping aside so I can enter.

  Before the door is fully closed behind me, I motion to the lantern bolted to the desk. Sara clicks it on and the light struggles to a low glow while I shut the door all the way. Across the room, Lucas sits up in his bed. When he sees Ceres, he smiles, but his smile quickly fades at the expressions on our faces. He stands and comes to listen.

  "The Rads intercepted a radio message," I begin. "The Chinese have been informed that New A
manian fugitives are present on this ship. They want to do a check when we dock tomorrow. It's supposed to be a surprise so they can catch us out, but obviously, we can't let that happen." I take a deep breath. "There are fishing boats waiting for those of us who want to risk jumping from the ship. We swim to the boats, and they'll take us to land, give us cover until something else is worked out."

  Sara and Lucas are transfixed by my words. They have the look of people waiting for more information, people who are thinking, Surely this isn't the end of the story. Surely there is something else she will say that will show us another way out. But I see the moment they realize there isn't. There is only one way out of here and it is to jump.

  Sara puts one hand to her swollen mouth and looks at Alexander, her three-year-old boy. He is curled up on the bed much like Ceres was, lost in the peaceful land of his slumber.

  "He can't swim," she says.

  "Then you'll have to tie him on your back." I put my hand on her shoulder. "Shale is on the bottom deck, gathering rope and other supplies we'll need. But we don't have time to waste. We have to disembark in less than twenty minutes. Come on."

  ◊ ◊ ◊

  We walk to the lowest deck, Alexander asleep and unaware in Sara's arms. I wonder if I look as wide-eyed, as afraid, as Sara does. I don't feel that afraid. I am strangely calm, as if my body and mind have melded, as if nothing else exists except the sea I have to swim and the boat to which I have to get myself and Ceres.

  The breeze is cold and wet, the salt burnishing my skin as I watch a few Rad men and women mill about. It seems as though Captain Jerome has ensured the legitimate passengers are kept off the deck for the time being in order to protect our identities. It wouldn’t be too hard to do so late into the night anyway. The captain himself is nowhere to be seen, but I imagine him in the bridge at the helm, his senses on full alert as he waits for us to leave. I wonder if he will feel our flight—if the ship will feel lighter, less dangerous once we are gone. I thank him silently for keeping my family safe for three weeks, for jeopardizing his life for a cause he thinks is worth something.