Welcome to the cereal serial version of Octave of Stars! Episodes will release every Monday and Thursday. If you’re finding this story for the first time, be sure to start at Episode 01 for maximum comprehension, or check out The Index for all available Episodes.
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Their escape from the warehouse block was frantic, Gayle driving with all speed, but as soon as they got back onto the main roads, their flight slowed to normal law-abiding levels. Ash still felt like his heart was about to explode, and glanced at Gayle, who had assumed her usual calm expression.
Gayle's phone rang. She handed it to Ash without taking her eyes off the road. "Get that for me?"
The string of numbers was unfamiliar, no caller ID. "Who is it?" he asked.
Azalea contributed: "It's Lumina, of course."
Ash cradled the stick-like phone to his ear. "Got it… Hi Lumina, it's Ash… Yeah, we got in, and no, she wasn't there. Rand, he was, though, but we got away. Now we're…" He looked at Gayle.
"Gettin' Azalea home," Gayle said, and Ash repeated it.
"…Oh, it's alright. Yeah, I'll get home too and we'll talk tomorrow… Bye." He put the phone in Gayle's cup holder, then looked in the rear mirror. "You alright?"
Azalea unwrapped another granola bar. "I'm great, that was so much fun. You were awesome, by the way." She gestured with the stick of food. "Rand was like 'look at me and my scary dirt' and you were like 'quit talking and tell me where she is! Here's a burning stick to help you remember!'"
Ash couldn't help but grin, despite 'fun' not being exactly how he would have described the experience. He shifted in his seat, then looked down at his clothing. "Sorry Gayle, I'm getting dirt all over your seat."
"Aw, don't worry, every time Rand shows up I've gotta vacuum out the car anyhow."
Azalea spoke through a mouthful of candied oats. "Yeah, plus you both are pretty dirty."
"Thanks hon, but you know I'm even prettier when I'm clean."
Ash groaned.
Azalea's house was an enormous, multi-story brick edifice with a manicured lawn and perfect landscaping. It belonged on the cover of a fancy magazine about fine living. An iron fence ran around the property, separating the sidewalk from the lawn, and near the front gate was a nameplate attached to the column that read 'Evergreen.' Azalea quickly punched in a text message with the little keyboard on her phone and the large gate whirred and opened slightly to allow her entry. As they waited, Ash could see past the perfect lawn to a messier garden area, with an archway covered in bright red vines. He could have been mistaken, but he swore like the purple blooming night flowers had twisted around to spell 'AZALEA.'
"Here we are," the girl said, gathering up her things and zipping up her backpack. "Thanks for a fun night, Ash. Heart you, Gayle!"
"Night, hon. Heart you too."
"Bye, Azalea."
As she got out and slipped through the gate, Ash wondered aloud: "Will she be safe? Rand knows her face now, could he find her somehow?"
"Maybe, but I doubt it." Gayle leaned back in the seat. "Even if Frost does guess who she is, her folks won't let her go easy. They've got a real fancy security system set up there. They've even got a little earthquake detector in case Rand decides to come up from underneath or somethin'. She's definitely safer there than she is with us."
"Well, that's good. I'm glad they wouldn't risk causing a scene."
"Nope. Now, what do we do with you, fella?" Gayle rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Your apartment's on the other side of town, and it's real late. I'd be havin' to come pick you up early tomorrow anyhow, and my place is just down the road. So, if'n you don't mind a couch for a bed and somethin' out of a can for supper, you're welcome to stay."
Now, that was interesting. This morning, he had felt betrayed by Gayle, now she was offering him shelter. And, he felt comfortable enough to agree. He would have offered the same, if the geography had been reversed, except he wasn't sure if his couch was long enough, not to mention the fact his own bedroom didn't even have a door. He thought for a moment about her staying in Cascadia's apartment, and that was such a bizarre idea he actually chuckled aloud. Then he remembered Gayle was expecting an answer.
"Thanks, I'll crash at your place tonight."
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Azalea softly closed the glass-paned front door out of habit, despite the noise of the gate being enough to alert anyone who was home that she was as well. She took off her sneakers by the door, setting them inside the coat closet, then put her backpack on the bottom step of the wide staircase, which curled around a potted frond. Granola bars were fine in a pinch, but she knew she needed something more substantial before bed. Time for a little post-mission snack.
A few downstairs lights were on, but she could find her way around the tiled hallway even in total darkness, feeling the leaves of the assorted tall houseplants for guidance. The weeping fig meant she was almost to the living room, with the wall of windows out to the backyard. She needed to check the garden; a bunch of radishes were ready to pick, but tomorrow. The bushy palm tree marked the entrance to the brightly lit kitchen, its branches always leaning toward the doorway.
With all the stainless steel appliances and shiny black metal, it was a wonder anyone could ever cook anything in there without going blind. Three round-backed chairs stood around the island in the middle, two with dark gray cloth, the other with a floral print cover. She was already so focused on her refrigerator raid, she almost didn't notice the woman sitting in one of the chairs.
The dark-skinned lady wore a professional-looking blouse and trousers, with black-rimmed round glasses. Her cell phone sat on the table next to her pager, both of which were currently silent. She had let her long, black hair hang straight down, but kept it out of her face with a white hair tie. She turned to Azalea; her face changing from a downcast expression to a pleased smile.
"Oh, hi Mom!" Azalea greeted her. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."
"Hey sweetie," Mrs. Evergreen replied, the effort to conceal the weariness in her voice was clear. As Azalea walked in front of her mother, she saw the half-eaten bowl of ice cream on the table, and knew what would make the perfect snack after all. Two pairs of green eyes gazed at one another for a moment. "I wasn't expecting to be here tonight either, but… they asked me to come home."
Her mood changed from careful apprehension to sympathy in a moment. "Mom, I'm sorry…" She stepped closer and embraced her mother gently. Azalea released her and made the Sign of the Cross. "Eternal rest grant them O Lord, and perpetual light shine upon them. May the soul of Mom's patient and the souls of all the departed rest in peace." Both ladies said "Amen" together.
"Thank you, sweetheart," Mrs. Evergreen said, then took off her glasses and rubbed her face gently, careful not to smear any of the makeup on her cheeks.
"Are you alright then?" Azalea asked, placing a light pink carnation in her mother's hand.
She replaced her glasses. "As alright as I can be." She affixed the flower behind her ear automatically. "Better now that you're here." She took her daughter's hand again and squeezed it. "There's a carton of peach cobbler in the small freezer with your name on it."
Azalea grinned and went to get herself a bowl. She washed her hands really well; her clothes may have been clean, but her hands sure weren't. Her mother had indeed written 'Azalea M. Evergreen' on the top of the ice cream carton with a permanent marker. As she was prepping her evening meal, the awful pager buzzed, and her hopes of a mother-daughter date wavered. Doctor Evergreen put the pager down and didn't pick up her phone, and Azalea relaxed.
After Azalea sat in her personal chair and said Grace, her mother continued their conversation, changing the subject. "So, how was the mission? Were you able to find her?"
Azalea slouched in her chair. "No, we weren't. It didn't look like anyone had been there in a while."
"Was he… oh, I forgot his name…" She pushed around the melted remains of her dessert as she pondered.
"Ash?"
"Yes that's right, Ash. Was he disappointed?"
Azalea made a quiet scoffing noise. "Well, if he was he didn't show it. He handled himself pretty well, actually…" The thrill of the battle came back to her, replaying itself in her mind.
Mrs. Evergreen just smiled and looked at her daughter for a few long moments. Azalea kept eating until the awkwardness was too much. "What?"
"This is becoming quite the operation, isn't it?" She shifted in her chair. "First it was just Gayle, with you helping Lumina on the radio, and then you finally joining her after we made our deal…"
Azalea straightened up. "Fifteen and a half, and ninety percent GPA!"
Her mother gave a thin smile. "That's right." Her brows furrowed further. "But now Frost is openly kidnapping people, who knows how many others will end up joining us?"
"Hopefully not many," Azalea said sternly. "We'll do everything we can."
Mrs. Evergreen looked down at her bowl. "I wish there was more I could do, too. You're out there giving them trouble, your father is working from his end, but sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough…"
"What, you mean other than saving people's lives? Oops…" Azalea clamped her mouth shut. "Sorry," she whispered.
Her mother's expression didn't change. "I understand. We can't be one hundred percent successful, right?" She raised one eyebrow at her daughter.
Azalea nodded. "Right!"
Mrs. Evergreen finished the last bite of her ice cream, setting the spoon in the bowl and making sure the flower in her hair was still in place. "I know what I can do. How about you and I go out together on my next day off? I'll pick you up from school, and we'll go to your favorite flower shop. Then we can come home and I'll help you in the garden, how about that?"
Azalea's first reaction had been to add a condition that she could go if Lumina didn't need her for something, but she pushed it down quickly. "Yeah, that sounds super great, Mom. I'd love to."
"Alright, it's a date then," Mrs. Evergreen said, picking up her phone to enter the event in its memory, while Azalea continued on gleefully with her ice cream.
Mrs. Evergreen took her empty dish to the cavernous sink, grabbing hold of the hanging sprayer to rinse it. "Hm," she said, examining the dirty plate and fork rapidly drying into a crusty mess. "Well, at least he isn't just eating microwave dinners again."
Azalea swallowed a particularly sweet piece of peach. "Is Daddy still awake?"
"No, he was already out when I came home, he's been working on that injunction all week. I saw your text that you were coming home, so I thought I'd wait up for you."
Azalea's heart-flower had been through many transitions just since she came home; sorrow and sympathy to firm determination, but now it opened up wide to receive the love that came from her mother. She envisioned her family as a garden: her parents were the soil and the water that nourished her directly, Gayle was the wind that blew her around and made her roots stronger, and Lumina was the sun, watching over everything. She stood up from her spot at the island table, padding over to her mother, who was drying her hands at the sink.
Her socks slid across the polished floor, the pair with potatoes and carrots on them, which her father had bought for her, because he knew. She still had the flower pins in her hair, which her mother had picked out specially. She never had to worry about explaining anything to either of them. Why she was really into gardening, despite it being an uncommon interest for a girl her age. Or why she hung out with such a diverse bunch of people.
Azalea's thoughts as she held her mother tightly in the kitchen of her home were of gratitude, prayers of thankfulness that she was who she was and had what she had. Things could have turned out so differently, after all.
She amended the picture in her mind: Ash was the heat of the sun, Lumina was the light. Cascadia was the water, or she would be when she finally met her.
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Gayle's front lawn was about as big as the single-car driveway next to it, but she had made the best use of the space by filling it with several windmills and pieces of yard art, the kind that created intriguing visual patterns when the wind twirled them around. The house itself was painted brown, with a dull blue metal roof and a simple awning built over the front door. The sections of siding which covered the foundation chassis were themselves covered over with flowering bushes and vines, far more than any of the neighboring homes in the small community.
Ash shook the dirt from his heavy coat onto the lawn. "You're into gardening too?"
Gayle was unlocking the door. "Nope, those all are Azalea's.1 I swear this place'll be a jungle before long."
The turnout coat went in a dusty pile by the front door, the best he could do. That left Ash with his black shirt and mostly clean pants. Gayle had just traded her jacket for a green knit sweater. Both deadbolts and the door chain definitely helped Ash feel better. He was still a little jumpy whenever a siren sounded or a helicopter flew overhead. It reminded him of a part of his life he was glad was over.
They had a quick dinner, canned pasta with meat sauce, eaten at the round table in the kitchen. It was small, but fit two people just fine. A flower vase sat near the edge, but instead of Azalea's latest creations, it held an assortment of pinwheels, each of different colors. Gayle made to get a pot and at least warm the food up, but Ash stopped her.
"I can't heat the can itself… first the label starts to burn," he was explaining, holding the ceramic bowl full of soup in both hands. Gayle could feel the heat radiating off him, like a small fireplace. "Even if I take the label off, the food tastes weird."
"You tried this before."
"Yup. When you're a kid who can generate extreme amounts of heat, and not get burned by anything," he set down her bowl on the trivet in front of her, one depicting birds and flowers. "You try burning just about everything." He picked up his own bowl and held it for less time, too hungry to care at this point. He put the spoon in, then saw Gayle's clasped hands.
"Did you wanna pray?" she asked.
"Yeah." He prayed aloud this time. Gayle kept her eyes closed until he was finished.
She took a bite of the toast Ash had created a few minutes earlier. "Nice job," she said, "just a bit crunchy, still soft inside."
"Thanks." The bread was square and plain; despite being wheat and not white, it still lacked the nuts and seeds of the bread that Cascadia always liked to buy.
Gayle didn't know about the bread, but she could guess from his tone what he was likely feeling. "Sorry about Cascadia, hon."
He took a bite of pasta, if he could even call it that. "Don't worry. Everyone kept saying it was a gamble, and sometimes when you gamble… you lose."
"Ain't that right."
After a few more bites, Ash inspected the small space. He didn't see many books that weren't a Bible, and only a small TV. Almost every surface was covered with a doily, to better display the ceramic statues of animals. "So Gayle, what do you do for fun around here?"
She looked startled. "Well, I like western movies, and I do jigsaw puzzles, and…" She stopped, remembering who she was talking to. Grinning, she said: "Sorry, that was a reflex. For reals… I like to fly around." She looked at the vase of pinwheels and a few of them spun gently.
"Like how you got us out of the warehouse?"
"Yep. It's real easy when it's just me. At night, long as I stay away from streetlights, no one can see me."
"How high have you ever flown?"
Gayle grinned crookedly, her pale skin luminous in the low light. Her inner storm had blown away, replaced by a calm summer breeze again. "Ten thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one feet." In response to his raised eyebrow: "Gotta a little alty-meter in my coat. Much higher'n that and the winds get feisty, they're hard to control. And it's real, real cold up there. I gotta bundle up like it's wintertime."
"So no running into airplanes?"
"Not hardly."
They chatted about Gayle's aerial escapades for the rest of the meal, then decided to turn in. Gayle said "g'night" and went down the short hallway to her room. Ash settled down on the couch, pulling the quilt up over himself. It wasn't particularly cold, but he liked the security. He took his phone from his pocket so he didn't crush it while sleeping and checked his messages. Aidan got the update for the evening.
Found a lead and followed it, but no luck. Still searching. Tomorrow's another day.
Just as his eyes closed, he opened them again, remembering that he hadn't said a Rosary that day. He retrieved it from his other pocket and listened to the sounds around him as he prayed. Gayle was tossing and turning in her bedroom, the refrigerator hummed. Somewhere nearby a small dog barked, another answered it. The Hail Marys started to blur together as sleep overtook him, but each one was a prayer for the same thing.
Octave of Stars is currently airing on Substack for free, with two of the 45 total posts per week. It’ll be fully released at the end of April 2024. If you don’t want to wait that long, you can get the entire story right now, in either Ebook or paperback. Every purchase supports the ZMT Books mission of family-friendly entertainment.
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Ash: “Those aren’t azaleas, they’re roses.” Gayle: “…”