The Central District Library had more layers than Mira anticipated it to have. She’d been impressed at the Dome, where Jovie and Vallian had enlightened her and her brother on almost everything and anything related to the Spectacles, and even more shocked when Jovie had brought her to the part of the library she’d dubbed the Platform—which was less a platform over thin air than it was a wide training room (a fact that Mira was very disappointed to learn).

So when Soma, using Jovie as a vehicle, led Mira to an even lower portion of the library wrought with winding tunnels, she couldn’t figure out if the library was just a tall building with many floors, or a singular small building that had just created underground bunkers in case of a disaster emergency. She assumed the latter considering the Cardinals, but you could never be too sure.

What was the next hidden chamber in the library, Mira wondered. Perhaps there would be something behind a bookshelf, or within a wardrobe. Some kind of hidden passageway hidden in plain sight.

“Keep close,” ordered the Spectacle, a soft glow emanating from Jovie’s body like a faint night light. “The tunnels are deceptively many.”

“To confuse people?” Mira asked, sidestepping a large rock in the center of the dirt.

“Specifically to confuse the Vultures, should they ever make their way down here. These caverns are concealed as such to make that potential event difficult—non-existent if we are lucky.”

“Aside from the obvious being they want you and Jovie dead, what is there in the tunnels that the Cardinals would want access to?”

Soma ruffled a little, as if the question were a joke, some kind of off handed bit of comedy that Mira was throwing around for fun. Heat rose to Mira’s cheeks. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know anything.

“You will see when we arrive. And only when we arrive. Have you the pendant, child?”

Her hand went instinctively to her pocket. Beneath her fingertips and through the fabrics of her coat, the talisman hummed, a small bit of electrical heat seeping through to find skin. “Yeah,” she said, “I have it with me. Didn’t take very long to find it. My brother isn’t exactly a hard read when it comes to putting stuff away.”

“Wonderful,” Soma replied, her voice echoing along the empty space of the tunnels. “Keep it on hand. You will need it in order to see what is needed of you.”

Mira only nodded her head, not that Soma or Jovie could see it, and fell silently into step behind the two as the caverns narrowed. Silently she was glad it was just her with the Scepter and the Spectacle; had Jovie invited Vallian, Delilah, and Magic along with them, Mira imagined her brother might have a borderline panic attack even with Soma’s intervention. Here, in the tight space, she wouldn’t even be able to blame him. Mira wasn’t necessarily afraid of squeezing through places as much as she was uncomfortable in their presence.

It was nothing like the tunnels further above ground—which was an odd thing to say considering, no matter where you walked in Subsidia, you were always underground, but she supposed that the tunnels to get inside of the mountains were far more “above” than these ones. The ones she traveled with her brother and the goats were spacious. There were lanterns that made seeing bearable.

Here, all Mira had to go off of was the faint, nearly non-existent light that pulsed off of Jovie like a heartbeat, growing in intensity before fading into nothing and reappearing. It matched the time of Mira’s own heart and she felt distinctly unsettled by it.

They continued through the tunnels in aggravating silence. Mira would have liked to breach it with something if she could figure out what to say, but whatever she wanted to know had already been disclosed to her and Soma was rather intent on keeping whatever they were walking to a secret until they arrived. For a creature who chided Jovie so much about keeping things hidden, Soma was doing a very good job doing the exact same thing.

Absently, Mira wondered if the mental bond shared between the two had something to do with it. She remembered growing up learning that twins had a kind of mental link with one another and tended to have very similar attributes to one another. Sure, the rabbit was a celestial being not of the world and Jovie was a human with celestial powers, but maybe their mind meld had something to do with the acquisition of traits.

The thought made her chuckle. What would be the odds of that?

“Here,” said the Spectacle after an aggravating silence, “is where we have to be.”

Soma said the words with such reverence and calm that, for a minute, Mira thought that maybe she’d been transported to some kind of mythical place she’d conjured in her head. A faraway place she only heard about in stories.

Instead, Mira walked out into ruins.

It was wide and spacious here, any and all houses little more than crumbled pebbles and shards of clay. The dirt beneath her feet was hard as concrete and Mira felt like she was walking on the hard earth roads back at home, where the lack of rain turned the dirt to dust and the wind to mimicked sandstorms. And despite the ravaged land, Soma looked…at peace here. Sure, she was using Jovie’s face, but Mira recognized that faraway stare of nostalgia. She’d read it on her father’s face growing up far too many times and she found herself twirling the ring on her finger out of habit.

“The Eastern District,” said Soma simply, by way of introduction. “Home and grave to over one hundred and seventy-six people.” Then, Jovie frowned, and Soma’s ears went down in the same motion. “A grave I made for them.”

“What happened to this place?” Mira murmured, taking in the sight. In the distance she saw the cleaved architecture of what she assumed to be a library or some kind of house, public spaces laid to waste, fragments of plastic scattered along the dirt like stars as Jovie slowly resumed her pace. The blob that was Soma’s head surveyed the area, Jovie’s head copying the motion. For a while, the Spectacle said nothing and Mira was inclined to believe that maybe Soma was so far into her own brain that she hadn’t heard the question. It wouldn’t have been the first time that had happened to her. Magic did it all the time.

Then the Spectacle and Jovie stopped beside a square base, the Scepter’s fingers grazing the edge of it as Soma leapt from the woman’s shoulders and sat primly in the middle, muzzle tilted upwards as if she were posing for a picture. Situated where she was, Mira was reminded of a statue.

“When Locht forced me and my siblings to rest,” began the rodent as Jovie’s fingers continued to brush the sides of the podium, “I sought my refuge here, in a small little cavern hidden at the furthest edge of the Eastern District. Humans had not yet settled here and it was, for a time, a secluded little haven. Until my children explored the furthermost parts of the mountains and made themselves a home.”

Jovie hesitated and paused; Mira noted that the reaction from the woman didn’t match the Spectacle like the other motions had. “People with Sight.”

“Yes. I slumbered for much of it, tucked away until my strength returned just enough to open my eyes. That moment was a measly decade ago. Minuscule, really, in the grand scheme of things. And I wanted—I missed my humans. Those I swore to my Maiden I would protect. So I left my cave, and I watched. You have no idea, child, how astounding it is to watch the leaps and bounds of humanity. And yet, in hindsight, my presence was the worst thing I could have gifted them with.”

Mira took a hesitant glance back at the Eastern District’s corpse. Skeletons of houses breaching the dirt like mournful hands.

“They destroyed everything here seven years ago,” whispered the Spectacle. Jovie’s hands paused on a small plaque at the base of the podium. “Landfall. I woke to the sound of desperate screams. I left when I sensed the detachment of souls—there is a faint disturbance when one departs this realm. To feel that many in such little time …

“They killed my children.” The statement came like a warbled hiss, echoing in the depths of the cavern. “They killed my children to get to me. So I felled them all. Every single one.”

Blood ran cold in every limb of Mira’s body. Which was even worse considering the fact that neither Jovie or Soma looked unnerved by this information; Jovie’s face was unreadable, but from the flickering light coming from Soma’s spot on the stone, Mira wouldn’t have doubted that the rodent took some kind of righteous pleasure in murdering the Cardinals.

She wondered what the jackalope was capable of. Soma never stated how, which left Mira to wonder exactly what method was used to remove the ruffians from the District.

As if she could sense Mira’s thoughts, Jovie cocked her head in a manner that was vaguely reminiscent of a confused dog. “Do not stare with such contempt,” said the Spectacle. Her form blurred and shifted, accompanied by the casual sound of a foot thumping on marble. “Do not tell me you think I relished in their deaths?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to think, Soma,” Mira said. It was bad enough that being within the creature’s presence was a slap in the face to everything Mira had been certain existed in this world. To know now that there were otherworldly creatures—real and not the stuff of legend—walking on the same ground as her, her brother, their families…it scared her. More than she cared to admit. “All I know is that, whatever you did to them, I don’t want you to do to me.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The creature paused, the tapping sound disappearing into the walls of the cavern. The motion was quick, but Mira caught the small pivot Soma made to stand. Jovie’s gaze hit the ground and she rubbed at the back of her head (Mira still couldn’t tell if it was a conscious decision on the woman’s part). “If it eases you,” said the Spectacle slowly, climbing atop Jovie’s shoulders, “some of their souls thanked me. When I removed them.”

“What for?”

There was a small pause; Jovie looked over her shoulder with a shimmer in her bright, unnatural teal eyes that felt almost like remorse. “Liberation.” Then, before Mira could get an additional word out, Jovie began to walk, and Soma continued to speak with Mira trudging behind. “They had tried several times to find me after—not a single one made it back to tell the tale, but many of the Vultures had videos attached to them. Destroyed what I could of that. And since the incident of the plague, they have ceased searching outright.”

Jovie shuddered. Soma, unaffected by the movement, continued as if the woman’s visceral reaction didn’t exist. “The Eastern District was a centralized attack on one area to lure me out. To protect one area. The plague, as its name suggests, was widespread. There was no single area for me to heal—it was pervasive. Wormed its way into everything through the water.”

Mira followed along in silence, stepping over a half-buried pole from what she assumed was a swing set. In the distance, something squealed—a bat, maybe, or perhaps it was the slow, steady drip of far away water. She couldn’t tell. Everything sounded similar in the dirt.

A sharp edge scraped at her ankle and she looked to see two obsidian shards, unceremoniously laying several feet away from the base Soma had been sitting mere moments before. They looked almost like antlers, a few broken edges where other appendages would be. She ran a finger lightly over the sharp edges. Maybe her brother would take interest in this. He was short a weapon. “When was the plague?”

“Recent. Two years in passing. Almost three, now. I lacked the strength of my own to purify the region’s water supply. Devastating, that year. I was forced to look for a Vessel then, and Jovie was willing enough to offer mind, body, and power so that we may act together to halt the sickness.”

“Is that why the Cardinals want people like Jovie so badly?” Mira asked, ducking under a cracked archway behind Jovie and the rodent. “Because you can stack powers with them?”

“Not all,” said the Spectacle matter-of-factly. “Jovie possesses the full expression of this power. She—and other people like her—are the only ones I can merge with, should they consent. But all have the potential to wield the stardust that runs in their veins. Whether it shows in their eyes or not.”

“I take it you’ve had a lot of attempts on your life, then, considering the tunnel system to get back to the Eastern District?”

At that, Jovie turned her head to glance over her shoulder with a frighteningly detached smile. One that reminded Mira of the fact that Jovie wasn’t Jovie at the moment. “You would think so. The tunnels were a precaution at Vallian’s behest—he insisted it would be better to trap the birds and run them in circles.”

The nonchalance of the statement threw Mira off guard. For a celestial being in the crosshairs of an organization hellbent on ending her life, Soma seemed… rather chipper—if not calm about her question. But there was one option that Mira hadn’t quite considered. “Are they afraid of you? Merged with Jovie like this?”

Soma’s blurred figure shook from side to side at the same time Jovie shrugged. “Unsure. The attempts on my life were frequent before the merge. Jovie believes that the birds are not dullards—not enough to target a fully powered Spectacle. Which is incorrect, as I am not at my full capacity. But, I suppose the show is enough to ruffle their feathers. Ah!” exclaimed the rodent. “The den is near.

“Keep your wits about you, child,” continued Soma, shuffling so that her head and ears—where her ears should be—were not touching the ceiling of one of the low tunnels she’d led Mira through. “And shield your eyes.”

By the time Mira even thought to ask, she was staring into a cascade of blues reflecting off the dirt walls of the little den. She brought a hand up to guard her face against the glare, but she couldn’t deny the beauty in the sight.

It was a gorgeous pool of blue, a tiny stream of water filling a little pond that drained into a brook and disappeared behind a wall of soil where she could hear the faint rush of the water as it dropped somewhere in the distance. In the center of the water was a slab of marble, a bowl of carved stone atop it; above it was an arch, the embossed image of a rabbit on its hind paws, its forelegs held out as if reaching for something. Two four-pronged antlers rested between large ears, and Mira recognized it for what it was: an altar.

Small gemstones in the walls caught the light like a house of mirrors, refracting it into paler shades of teal, cyan; a cascade of baby blues. Mira lifted a hand, wiggling her fingers in the show of light. Maybe she could take hold of it if she tried, cupping the pigments against her skin, holding them in her palms. She was reminded, however vaguely, of the show Alaric had given her and Magic, the brief demonstration of what it was like to control stardust between his fingers, use the energy in his veins to create a spectacle of light.

Is this what it would be like? To hold stars in your palm?

The concept, while it terrified her, was enticing. And Mira wondered what it would be like to wield that power without fear of it changing her life.

Not like it would matter, she thought. There’s nothing to dream about.

Jovie paused at the edge of the water, absently entranced by the light show as Soma kept from the woman’s shoulders. The Scepter held a hand out as if to tell Mira silently to wait as the rodent dove into the water without a second’s hesitation. It was an excruciating few minutes of silence, standing beside Jovie while she was locked away in her own head. Her eyes were blank, dazed and glossed over with the occasional mechanical movement of her head, a robot surveying its surroundings.

It gave Mira the creeps and she had to resist the urge to move away, knowing that when Soma returned, she would take her seat beside her chosen human companion.

Sure enough, the water soon bubbled and when Soma emerged from the water, her head breaching the surface, Jovie’s head snapped at attention towards the animal in control. The jackalope slunk free of the pond and shook out her deep blue fur—in response, Jovie shuddered, resembling the movement—dropping a large, sapphire crystal to the ground. With one hoof propped on it, Soma’s form became less blurry and clear enough for Mira to see the silver color that made up the creature’s hooves. The large, beady eyes, dark enough to look like a midnight sky, complete with specs of stars. The black antlers jutting from between her ears. The sapphire gemstone embedded in her forehead, shimmering and bright.

No. Not natural in the slightest.

Soma nudged the larger sapphire on the ground with a hoof. Jovie reached forward, picking it up and rolling it between her palms. “That,” said the Spectacle, “is what Jovie was so keen on keeping secret from you.”

“A gem?” Mira asked, scrunching her face. Secrecy for a fancy rock? That seemed a bit excessive.

The jackalope stared at her, leaning forward a little. Even Jovie looked appalled. “No!” insisted the rabbit, the word harsh and loud from the Scepter’s lips. “It is not just a gem. It is a gem in which the remainder of my power is stored. After the incident with Locht in our Maiden’s Garden, my siblings and I were forced to rest. I poured my energy into this crystal so that I may rest peacefully undisturbed. Yet here I am, awakened and weak, and unable to return to form …”

Soma kicked at the dirt with one of her hind paws, scattering wads of wet earth on a diagonal in Jovie’s direction. It splattered against the woman’s leg, who wasn’t present enough to care. “A foul thing,” muttered the jackalope. “Will not respond even to its master. I had been hoping we would get a cipher response from you, child, if only to have you help with a favor.”

“A favor,” Mira echoed.

“Correct. Were we able to find cipher within you, I would have asked your help in snapping the object that keeps me weak. Return me to form, so that I may lay waste to the Vultures myself.”

The assertion prodded at something in Mira’s chest. She’d been here to search for answers. Not be used as a test subject. “That isn’t wanting me for a favor, Soma, that’s turning me into a mindless pawn.”

But the Spectacle shook her head. “You confuse assistance with domination. I would have needed only your assistance to return to form and then demolish the birds myself. But I would still have come back to help you. The Vultures—they use. They destroy with no qualms for life, no care for the cycle in which they prematurely end.

“The Cardinals have experimented with that gene for years trying to manipulate cipher and stardust,” the Spectacle went on. “It is only a matter of time before they learn to control it. I do not fear much, but that …” The jackalope paused and Mira could’ve sworn she’d seen the blurred form of the creature shudder. “I fear what would become of Jovie or myself if they were to figure out how to manipulate that power. I do not wish to be a puppet in their game. Not like so many of my children have been forced into being.”

“That would imply Scepters and half-sights existing in the Cardinals ranks,” Mira said with a scoff. But when Jovie and Soma didn’t move, didn’t say anything to deny the claim, a nameless chill fell over Mira’s skin.

“I pity them,” said Soma slowly. “Forced to choose between a life of servitude—experimentation, suffering—because they simply wish to do what all things do. Live.” Then, the Spectacle shook out her fur, standing up on all four legs and stretching. “It is what makes all of this far more imperative. It will solve your mystery—hopefully—and, should we find our answers, you would be able to lend a hand. Take the crystal from Jovie, child.”

Mira took a hesitant step back as Jovie extended her hand, the sapphire gemstone clutched beneath her fingers. Anxiety was drumming full force in Mira head. Even her bones were screaming. Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. But the talisman in her pocket was thrumming—Mira could feel it aggressively shaking in her coat. A missing piece to a large whole. A string pulled, taught and plucked.

There was every opportunity to run. To screw all of this, grab her belongings and walk away with her brother. But running now would mean a lifetime of cowardice.

She feared the change. And yet, if the change could help her…

Self-defense was something Mira prided herself in. And this was just another tool in the toolbox. “What am I supposed to feel if it does something?”

Soma’s ears flicked and Jovie shrugged. A mirrored response. “If it awakens cipher in your blood, then it may feel like a current. A tingling sensation. If not … then nothing.”

Jovie held out the object again and Mira approached. She extended a hand, her fingertips barely grazing the frigid, flat surface of the stone. It was unnatural—like everything else in this damn cave—with how cold it was. Her fingers almost immediately blued as if frostbitten, and she was about to pull her hand away when Jovie’s hand dropped to her side, the gemstone sliding into her back pocket. The Scepter’s attention went elsewhere as the squeaking of the nearby animals Mira heard before grew louder.

Stray teal lines were waving around in sparks from the black smudges of Soma’s antlers. Her muzzle was tipped up as if she were sensing something nearby.

“Soma,” Mira started, but Jovie shushed her. Heavens, she hated that. “Soma,” Mira said again, teeth gritted. “What’s—?”

“People are near,” whispered the Spectacle.

The jackalope turned around in circles, eventually stopping to face the hole in the wall where the water came through to fill the pool. Just beneath the arch, Mira watched in horror as a small, metallic-looking spider scampered through the entryway, clinging to the wall. So much for wildlife, she thought, as the singular red eye on its center locked on the trio beside the water.

Mira cut a quick glance towards Jovie, whose eyes, now back to normal, were wide. The Scepter brought a hand up, snagging Mira’s coat and dragging her to the ground as the beeping turned to a high-pitched drone. A spark of light fractured off the gems in the wall and before Mira knew it, water crested and engulfed them all.