A lone star on the Lady Liberty: Episode 3
Wherein Echo goes to the ball
This is part 3 of my “card” story — read part 1 if you’re just joining us or learn more about the card challenge.
Echo leaned against the wall, inhaling deeply. She exhaled slowly through her nose. Still, her heart raced in her chest. Her stomach fluttered as voices sounded down the hall. She inched towards the corner, not wanting to leave her hiding spot but desperate to know who was coming.
An afterimage of the Star burned in her mind’s eye, the lizard that wore it forgotten. The rock was the size of her fist. Her mouth went dry thinking of the life that could buy. That jewel could do more than pay off the Haggashi — it could purchase lifetime passage on the Liberty. Heck, she could buy the whole ship … and the gang.
A hand wrapped around her wrist, and she gasped and jumped back.
“What are you doing?” Laramy peered at her with wide eyes.
Echo pulled her wrist away. “I want to see ….”
“Gar. It’s just Ellis Gar.” Laramy leaned against the wall, pulling a small capsule from a pocket in their dress.
“Just a sec,” Echo said, turning her head to listen. “Maybe he’ll leave and we can go back.” A second later, a cloud of flowers and spice enveloped her.
Waving her hand to disperse the scent, she turned to glare at Laramy. “What the —” A shout sounded down the hall.
Laramy grabbed her hand. “We should probably go.”
Echo dug her heels in. “What did you do?”
Her friend tugged at her wrist, but Echo held her ground, even though an ice worm gnawed at her gut.
Laramy relented. “It’s not what I did. It’s what I took.” They spritzed Echo with another blast of scent, then spun on their heels and strode down the hall.
Echo stalked after them. “Are you insane?” She caught up and grabbed Laramy’s wrist. “You jeopardized everything for some perfume?!”
“It’s not just some perfume.” They waved a hand through the air. “It’s Persephone’s Tears.” Laramy paused, as if waiting for a reaction. “The most exclusive scent in the galaxy.” They stopped at the end of the side corridor, peering into the arboretum beyond, towards the continuous waterfall that rose in its centre. “Besides, what’s there to jeopardize? We have no idea where the Star is.”
Echo draped her arm across Laramy’s shoulder, making it look as if they’d been having a lover’s tryst. She stepped into the promenade that encircled the arboretum, letting the travellers flow around them. In spite of herself, a smiled crept onto her lips. “Oh, but we do.”
Laramy turned their head to stare at her, their mouth open.
Echo lifted their jaw with her finger then pressed the tip to their lips. “Hush, kitten. I’ll explain later.”
They scowled, but Echo ignored them. Instead, she dropped her arm from their shoulder. She tugged her tunic down and cinched the belt tighter, adopting the assigned guard persona again. Then she grabbed their elbow and, as surreptitiously as she could, guided them both over beside the continuous waterfall.
“Sit.” Echo pointed to the bench.
“But —”
Echo pressed their shoulder until they sat, their lips pursing like they’d sucked a lemon. “Look like a bored rich scion.”
One of Laramy’s eyebrows lifted, and her grimace shifted to a wistful smile. “Oh, I wish I were a bored rich scion.” They dropped their chin into their hands, elbows resting on knees. “But why?”
“So we can watch that corridor to see if Gar comes out. And where he goes if he does.”
Six and a half minutes of trying not to strangle Laramy later, Echo accepted Gar wasn’t coming this way.
“Ugh, how much longer?” Laramy plucked another flower from the vine that wound up a pole next to the bench and threaded the blossom into their flaxen hair.
“No longer. Let’s go.”
Just as Laramy hopped to standing and threw their arms around Echo, a commotion sounded further down the promenade. She pinpointed the source as a covey of people at the elevator from the level below, all of them clad in gilt dresses and luxe tunics.
The flock tittered as a pair stepped out of the elevator. One was an old, down-on-his-luck minor noble whose clothes said wealth but whose demeanour said hard times. The other, one of the fighters. The breath caught in Echo’s throat at sight of him, all jet black hair and intense blue eyes. He wasn’t just any fighter ... he was just her type.
“Jacks, Aleksander Rex,” she muttered. His muscles twitched, highlighting the landscape of scars that crisscrossed his mostly bare torso. Scars she knew intimately. A freshly stitched cut on his left pectoral would add to the map soon. Echo shifted to hide behind a leaf.
“Ser Rex!” one of the golden people said, their ridiculously large headdress quivering like a nervous marsh rat. “Your fight was … invigorating.” A hand reached out towards the chiselled torso but pulled back before touching. Aleksander Rex shifted away but smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He wasn’t a people person, but he’d apparently learned to play the game.
“Oh, bleeding barnacles,” Laramy hissed.
“What, you know him?” Echo’s blood raced at the idea of the streams of her life crossing, then she realized Laramy stared in the opposite direction. She cast her gaze about, trying to figure out what had caught their attention. Finally, she settled on a group that moved in concert like a flock of birds through the people wandering the promenade. All six people in the group were dressed entirely in black, reminiscent of a uniform, though each outfit was different. Like a stylish musical group or live art ensemble. “Who are they?”
“The Blackbird Seven.”
“Seven…?'” Echo frowned. “But there are only six.”
“There were seven until recently, when their founder was killed.”
“What are they, a band?”
Laramy snorted. “A band.” Their tone became hushed, and their expression serious. “A band of thieves. One of the best.”
“Jacks.” Echo’s stomach sank, all thoughts of fornicating with a fighter gone.
“Yeah, there’s only one reason they’re on this ship.”
“The Star of Meropi.” Once again, Echo found herself questioning her life choices.
Laramy’s fingers clenched Echo’s forearm.
“It’s ….” Their hand waved up the promenade, and Echo followed their pointed finger: Gar. And the lizard, waddling amongst the people on a jewelled leash.
Echo grabbed Laramy’s arm and yanked it down. “Stop that.”
“But it’s ….” Laramy lowered their voice to a hiss. “The Star.”
“I know.” Echo frowned — she knew but she’d hoped to keep that to herself for a bit longer. “I saw it in Gar’s room. But it would be better to not point that out to the Blackbird Seven.” She squinted at Gar and his entourage of security personnel, then glanced the other way along the promenade, in the direction the Blackbirds had gone. She swore she caught glimpses of midnight amongst the rainbow-hued costumes of the rich.
“When were you going to tell me?” Laramy’s arm stopped waving, instead coming to their hips.
“How about when a gang of thieves weren’t around?” Her nose scrunched. “One of us needs to follow Gar. Find out where he’s going.”
“Maybe he’s just taking the lizard for a walk.”
Echo ignored them. “The other should keep an eye on the Blackbirds.”
Laramy frowned at Gar. “You follow Gar.” They tugged Echo’s tunic down, then ran a hand over her chest. “You fit in better.” Without another word, they took off after the Blackbirds, leaving Echo gaping like a fish. She huffed, then pressed her lips into a thin line. She had to admit, of the two of them, she was the better choice to trail Gar.
Pulling her shoulders back, she went in the direction Gar and his lizard had gone.
Ten minutes later, she despaired of finding him again when he suddenly emerged out of the growing crowd on the Esplanade. Another five minutes on, she realized what he was doing, and it wasn’t taking the lizard for a walk — they were going to the post-opera gala.
A place Echo was most definitely not welcome.
Echo hung back, taking up position behind a potted plant a few metres away from the entrance to the conservatory, where the gala was already underway. Tendrils of tiny vines crept towards her hair, slow but determined. They tickled her skin as she swatted them away, keeping her eyes on Gar.
The bouncers blocked Ellis Gar from entering, their expressions stony. They didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea of admitting a giant lizard. The creature hissed at them, and the woman on the left shifted her stun baton closer to the thing’s head while she glared at Gar. Gar’s cheeks flushed as he gesticulated at the banner, his lips moving with words she couldn’t hear. Echo followed his hand towards the sign: The Tears of Demeter, brought to you by Baron Meropi Industries.
With that, the security team shifted, letting Gar through, and giving Echo a glimpse of the rich and infamous inside. Half the people had dead animals on their shoulders or in their hair, or headdresses that made it look like they did. Echo’s lip curled. The people glittered like Stardust.
Her cheeks warmed and her mouth opened. She had to get inside — she’d never been this close to unfathomable wealth. Though the dead animals gave her pause.
She tapped her spoofed wrist patch. “Laramy?” she hissed, creeping too close to the lecherous plant again. It twined a fuzzy vine around her pinkie. She tugged her finger away, giving it the side eye, then turned her back on it. A second later, she tried to reach Laramy once more.
This time, a crackle of static tickled her ear, but still no answer. Echo cursed under her breath, muttering about her life choices. She needed a way past the bouncers, but she was clearly on her own. No help from Laramy or her man, Davit.
Inhaling into her diaphragm, she tugged the tunic down and pulled her shoulders back. Then she stepped out from behind the plant, shrugged off a frisky tendril, and strode straight towards the security. Straight past security for all of one second.
An inactive stun baton contacted her chest. “Halt.”
"Excuse me," she said, her voice steady, as imperious and unconcerned as she could manage. “Is there a problem?”
The bouncers peered at her, eyeing her up and down. She felt a flicker of panic, but squashed it, which turned her stomach sour. She arched an eyebrow.
“You don’t belong here,” the woman with the stun baton asked, a sneer on her lips. "What do you want?"
"I'm need to talk to Ellis Gar," Echo lied. “I have to deliver a message from the Baron Meropi.” She looked at her wrist, feigning indifference. “Something about a lizard?"
The guard’s lips pursed. "A message from the Baron?" the woman repeated, narrowing her eyes.
"The Baron insisted that I deliver the message in person," Echo said, putting on a smile as she gestured towards the lizard. "He's very particular about his pets."
“The Baron’s pet.” The woman exchanged a glance with the other bouncer and then stepped aside. "Fine," she said, shifting the stun baton. "But I'm watching."
Echo nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she walked past them and into the conservatory. The air was thick with the fragrance of exotic flowers and spices, causing a headache to creep into her sinuses. She lost sight of Gar in the sea of shimmering dresses and overwrought headdresses.
Instead of Gar, she found the Blackbird Seven.
They almost blended in with the crowd, scattered as they were. Almost. Each of them was still decked out all in oily black and midnight blue fabrics, though now their clothes shone and sparkled even in the muted lights of the conservatory. Every one of them held a glass of champagne they didn’t drink from or a plate they didn’t eat from.
Echo's heart sank — from what Laramy had described, not only were they here for the Star, but they had the skills to take it. More than the two of them. Breathing deeply and sighing out, she knew where she needed to position herself.
Careful not to make eye contact, Echo sidled up to the nearest pair: wherever the Blackbirds were, that’s where she’d find Gar. She pretended to admire a tropical flower until a vine twined around her finger.
“Bleeding flowers,” she muttered and stepped away from the plant.
She tried to tune out the chatter and music around her, focusing on what the two Blackbirds said to each other. Then a high-pitched squeal jerked her attention away — even the thieves jumped. The lights dipped, except for a single spotlight. It took Echo a moment to realize the caterwauling meant the singer had started — it was an opera gala after all.
It took a few seconds more of sustained squealing for her to register that the diva wasn’t singing after all — the singer stared out the large glass windows of the conservatory, one hand to their chest, the other pointing out to space.
Echo shifted her gaze to what the diva looked at. She squinted at the view, and her head tipped to the side. Her breath left her and her mouth dropped open as she worked out what she was seeing. She knew why the opera singer screamed.
The Skeleton Horde has arrived.
Continue to episode 4. To read more in this universe, pick up books in The Lyra Cycle on armchairalien.com or your favourite online bookstore.