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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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**** Floor 8 ****1
The hole in the floor was pretty impressive, he had to say, but also completely unnecessary. Rand shook his head as he peered down through Yin's 'shortcut', studying the infrastructure of the building in a way most people didn't. He thought back to the last time Frost had yelled at Yin for something like this, an impulsive decision that led to destruction. The goal was so important to him, he didn't care what happened along the way. Childish, but undeniably effective.
Oh, well, it was what it was. Rand yawned and stretched his bare toes, it was getting late and he was very much looking forward to sleeping in his own bed this night instead of one of the staff rooms downstairs. But that depended a lot on what happened in the next few minutes.
The other two urns had been emptied out, a gauntlet of dirt and soil for any intruders. He had even mostly hidden the hole, so Ash or whoever would at least trip over it, if not fall right in. He was pretty proud of that part.
Rand tapped his radio earpiece to the public channel. "Bravo team, report on downstairs status."
Roger that, Chief. Guests have been evacuated, lower floors are being swept now. No sign of—
The voice in his ear was drowned out by the shrill sound of the fire alarm, coming from the boxes on the walls in that very hallway. That meant the secondary system had finally been activated, which also meant…
Rand barely had time to turn around before the sprinklers came on. He roared in anger and ran to the suite, quickly opening both doors at once. The dirt in the hallway followed him in like a line of obedient snakes. He pounded barefoot into the room, directing the dirt to break open the bottom membranes of the urns there, freeing their comrades to join in the fight.
His urgency was not unwarranted, as Cascadia sat up in bed, bleary-eyed, her blanket kicked off but not soaking wet like Rand. His dirt was slowly turning to mud, but flowed just the same. Cascadia's hands were clasped in front of her, the water on and around her being drawn into a steadily growing sphere. A liquid prayer, a watery benediction.
Rand raised up the wet dirt around him, little one-armed soldiers. His dark brown eyes were fierce, matched only by the hardness of her own blue ones. This standoff continued for several loaded seconds, and then several more. Neither Star wanted to act first. Rand definitely had the home turf advantage, but he didn't have time to chuckle at that joke yet. Cascadia had gathered a basketball-sized bubble of water from the sprinklers before they ceased to a trickle. Rand was grateful, for all of Yin's carelessness, he must have had the sense to get to the manual shutoff valve.
The sound of Cascadia's voice caused Rand to flinch, he was so tense. "He's here, isn't he?"
"What?"
"Ash. Or his friends, or both. That's why the fire alarm came on, isn't it?"
Rand didn't change his defensive posture. "I thought you had nothing to say about him."
"I do!" She was shaking, the water was slipping. She held it and herself together. "I have plenty to say. He's the most real thing I have." Her stare pierced, despite the tears running down her cheeks. "Please, I want to go home. I want to see him, and my family. What would you do if Frost captured your own child—"
"No!" Rand yelled. Tendrils of soil flew toward her.
Cascadia spread her hands, splitting the liquid in two, and sprayed a fusillade of water jets at high pressure she could muster, sweeping back and forth and bisecting the earth snakes as they approached. While effective, her ammunition depleted quickly, and she had nowhere to run. She tried to awkwardly scramble behind the bed, without her hands for support, but only stepped right into the carpet of dirt Rand had positioned behind her during their staring match.
"Dang it!" Cascadia pretend swore as she was covered up yet again, starting with her legs, struggling as the dirt coursed over her back, moving down her arms and forcing the bubbles off of her hands. As soon as they were separated from her fingertips, they collapsed in a muddy mess. Within seconds, she was encased in a mound of hard soil to her neck, still allowing her to breathe. As well as cry.
Rand closed his eyes, returning his quake-riddled mental landscape back to its usual peace. He radioed Yin on the direct channel.
What's up, big guy?
"Bring the desiccant cloak up to Miss Dewlenser's room, along with standard detainee transport gear. I'll inform Mr. Frost that more secure accommodations are needed. The hotel has been compromised, anyway."
I'll say, it's a mess down here!
Rand let go of the switch. "And whose fault is that?" he said aloud, or to Cascadia, who was quietly glaring at him. He couldn't make eye contact, and would have left the room if it wouldn't mean breaking containment. He was glad she kept silent, too much had already been said.
____********____
When Azalea had told Ash that Gayle was 'right outside', he assumed she was on the ground, with the car waiting, and he would need to fall seven stories in a panic before being caught by her winds and thrown unceremoniously into the passenger seat. He accepted this, it was a fine start to his penance for being so impulsive.
He didn't expect to see her hovering in midair, just feet away from the broken window, blonde curls swirling about her head in the turbulent air that kept her aloft. Blush-colored fabric billowed around her legs, covered to the knee by her white undergarment. She held out her gloved hands to him, the look on her face calm, yet determined.
Ash held his firebrand tightly and reached out his free hand. Instead of grabbing it, Gayle whirled him around in a little eddy so he was facing away from her, then scooped him up under both arms before rocketing upward, away from the building.
From so high, Ash could see the hotel and the surrounding grounds, the groups of guests huddled together as red engines glared nearby and actual firefighters worked their way around, securing things. He had created enough of a stir to attract flashing police cars and ambulances as well. Lines of civilian cars picked up those only staying for the party, and everyone was too distracted to see a lady in a rose dress and a frazzled guy in a gray suit sailing away through the air above them. Ash wondered if he would ever find himself able to actually enjoy a flight with Gayle instead of always running away from a mess.
Gayle was quiet, and he was too out of breath to say anything. They sailed across the darkened parking lot to the car, already positioned near the road. Ash stumbled into the seat, tossed the still-warm firebrand at his feet and fumbled in his pocket for the keys. He reached over to put them in the ignition as Gayle flew over the car in a cloud of rosy fabric. She opened the door, then pulled out a long ribbon of white fabric she had stashed there, using it to cinch the dress up to her knees. She didn't even take off her gloves, instead just driving purposefully away from the parking lot. There was no need to tear off into the darkness like the previous night.
Several long, silent minutes began their drive down the darkened roads. After Ash had a few good breaths and his heart rate came down, he checked the cut on his arm, which didn't seem to have bled much during their escape. He pulled a black handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it tightly around the wound.2 It wasn't serious enough to make a detour to the hospital first.
He tied it down as best he could with one hand, then addressed his next need, which was thirst. He had left a water bottle in the cup holder on his side and guzzled it, then nearly choked and sipped it more carefully.
Gayle pushed several stray curls behind her ears before speaking. "That was real, real stupid."
Ash exhaled. He was grateful for the chastisement, it was far better than the tepid silence. "I know… I'm sorry. I just wanted to—"
"I know why you did it," Gayle snapped. "Don't make it any less dumb."
"Okay," Ash nodded.
Gayle kept her mouth from twisting up in a snarl. "Did you hurt anybody?"
He envisioned ambulances loaded with severe burn victims flooding the local hospitals. "No," he said at once, then paused. "Well, one guy burned his hands opening a door I heated up, but it wasn't that hot. He'll be fine."
She breathed out through her mouth. "Well, that's a lot better than it could've been."
Lumina's voice sounded in his head. He had forgotten he was wearing the earpiece. I trust from your relatively calm discussion, Ash has been recovered?
"Yeah, we're in the car now," Gayle replied. "My place is closer, so we're headin' there now."
Wonderful. Azalea, you can breathe now.
I wasn't actually holding my breath, you know.
Well, it appeared that way. We are both grateful for your safety, Ash. Azalea and I were praying for you.
"Thanks," he said unsteadily.
Ash was also grateful he had packed an overnight bag. He really needed a shower after that workout. "So… I think we can safely say Cas is being held in the hotel," he said, still wheezing.
"How do you figure?" Gayle asked.
"If it was just a regular hotel, they wouldn't have tried so hard to stop me. Yin tore through the ceiling to get to me before I could go up one more floor, so she has to be there."
She sighed. "You're probably right. But, what can we do now? There's no way none of us are gettin' back in there at all."
"I saw the rooms had windows, if hers does, you could fly up and break it, then carry her out?"
I'm afraid that won't be a possibility, dears, Lumina interjected.
Azalea piped up. Oh no, there they are, I see her! I think… they threw like a blanket over her or something.
It's likely made from a material to absorb any water she tried to gather to herself… We're watching a feed from the roof of the building, evidently a helicopter arrived some time after you left. Drake and Yin are escorting Cascadia into it. Her face is obscured, but I can see her hair, I am certain it's her. We won't be able to track it once it leaves.
That did it. After everything he had gone through, all the effort to prove she had been in that building, and the very slim chance of actually reaching her and getting her out. All of it had been for nothing. If he wasn't so exhausted, he would have yelled and beat his fists against the dashboard. Instead, all he had to show was sore legs and a cut on his arm.
Gayle noticed something off. "Rand ain't with 'em?"
Apparently not.
"Must still be there. Good thing we didn't stick around," she observed.
Gayle, Lumina said. I'm getting some concerning details from the police wire. It looks like the fire at the hotel is being pinned on arson, of course, and Ash is the chief suspect, with you as his accomplice.
"Dagnabit," Gayle exclaimed. "That's gonna be harder to get out of than a traffic stop." She slowed the car, then pulled over onto a patch of gravel beside the road. After removing her gloves, she bound up her loose hair in a quick ponytail, then grabbed her green jacket from the backseat and slipped it over her shoulders. "Alright, change of plans. We're goin' to the safehouse, but need to do a ditty on the car first. Ash, can you help me out, with your arm?"
"Yeah, it's just a scratch."
What happened with your arm? Azalea asked. Oh, you just said what.
Ash mustered enough strength to get out of his seat and numbly accept the license plates Gayle pulled from the trunk. He strapped on his headlamp, using the screwdriver on his multitool to replace the existing plates, complete with new number and expiration date. While he worked, Gayle went to the back of the car near the tail lights and started picking at the edge of the metal seam there. After a few moments, she peeled off the paint, revealing that the exterior of the car was actually a large vinyl sticker. Within a few minutes, with Ash's help, they had peeled away the rusty red color of the station wagon and left behind a dull blue sheen.
After disguising their getaway vehicle, Gayle offered to give Ash some proper first aid. He took off his impromptu bandage and rolled up his sleeve, showing the light wound.
"You'll be fine," Gayle said, unwrapping an adhesive bandage from the big first aid kit in the trunk. "Good thing Yin makes all of his knives so sharp, makes gettin' cut by 'em actually less bad."
"Still seems bad to me." Ash winced as Gayle applied the antiseptic liquid. They were standing behind the car still, the quiet road providing no worry about their being disturbed. "I'm just glad you aren't using whiskey to do that."
Gayle grinned, the corner of her mouth turning up. "What is it with you bein' convinced I drink whiskey, anyhow?"
Ash shrugged with his good arm. "I dunno, it just seems like your thing."
"Heck," she said, smoothing the large bandage over his arm. "Couldn't never get the hang of whiskey. I'll stick with wine, if anythin'."
When the medical supplies were stored away and Ash had donned his jacket against the chill, they remained on the side of the road for a few minutes while Gayle had a cigarette. Ash pulled one of his own out of the pack, then stared at it for a few moments, recalling the difficulty of climb the stairs after only smoking again for two days. The cigarette burned into nothing, Ash scattering it on the roadside. Gayle watched him do this, but said nothing. She mused they must have looked like quite the odd pair, him in a torn and dirty suit; her in a green coat and pale pink dress, with her hair mostly undid.
Ash glanced up at the stars, somewhat more visible than usual. He turned back to the car. "What happens when you need to change the plates back?" he asked.
Gayle spoke out of the side of her mouth. "There's another wrap underneath that."
The rest of the drive to the safehouse was calm. Azalea signed off, being told by Lumina she was past her bedtime and needed her rest. Lumina also turned off the radio, available by phone if necessary. Ash took out the earpiece and put it in his pocket, rubbing the sore spot where it had been. He didn't know what to say to Gayle, she didn't seem keen on talking, so he just let the quiet be. It was difficult to judge where in the city they were; he thought they had driven east from the hotel, but after so long on small side roads with no streetlights, it was hard to tell.
At least until they passed by the church. It was a small neighborhood parish, all shut up for the night, but he distinctly remembered having gone there several times on his own, before he moved in near Cascadia. Those memories triggered other thoughts, and since it was Saturday night, he needed to see about getting himself to Mass the next day.
Gayle took a breath. "Ash," she said, making sure he was still awake.
"Yeah?" He was, but barely.
"I'm real torqued you decided to do that. It was dangerous and reckless, and I… I was real scared for you. I didn't wanna have to rescue two of my friends at the same time."
Ash didn't ever remember Gayle calling him a friend before. She called him 'hon', but she called everybody that. Despite being willing to pull him out of the fire, literally, and for all of her devotion to the mission and rescuing Cascadia, she had never actually said it aloud.
He shifted in his seat. "I'm sorry Gayle, I really am. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, let me know."
She snorted. "Make it up to me? Sure. After we get Cascadia back, you and her have a happy life together, however the Lord wants you to. How's that?"
He closed his eyes. "Okay. I'll do it."
"Good." After a few moments, she started humming the tune to a popular country western song that Ash oddly recognized.
He looked over at her, noticing the difference in their relative energy levels. "How are you so awake, Gayle? It's almost ten p.m., and I'm about to pass out. Did you go get coffee or something?"
"Naw, you just ran up seven flights of stairs and fought off a crazy person. But…" she paused. "I did learn how to breathe in real deep and hold it. Lumina says it helps oxygenate my blood, or somethin'. Don't know the details, but it helps me stay up for late shifts at the diner."
"Huh," he mumbled. "Fun."
The road turned from pavement to gravel as Gayle slowed again and Ash could see they had turned off onto a private driveway. A two-story country-style house sat nestled beneath a large oak tree, a few lights on in the many windows. A wide garage was nearby, and Gayle pulled right in, the headlights illuminating the walls lined with tools and other implements. She turned off the car and made to get out, Ash willing himself to follow.
"Get your bag, we'll be lockin' up here."
"Alright."
Gayle grabbed her own pack from the trunk, then Ash helped her push the large barn doors to the garage closed, after which she used the combination lock hanging on the hasp to secure them. At the back porch, Gayle knocked at the door.
A male voice answered from behind it. "Who's there?"
"Come on," Gayle said, "it's gettin' cold out here."
"No, I don't think you could be Gayle," the voice continued. "You're far too dressed up. Blow around some leaves or something."
"Oh, I'll blow somethin' around as soon as I get in there," she grumbled.
"That's definitely Gayle. Come on in."
The door opened, and a short-middle aged man appeared, balding and thin. He had a wise gleam to his blue eyes behind round glasses. He wore a plaid bathrobe, but over a t-shirt and slacks. They entered, and Ash looked around the room that seemed surprisingly normal. Small kitchen, plain decor, patterned rug underneath the table.
"Hello Ash, I'm Douglas," the man himself said. "I'm not a Star myself, but I know all about them, so feel free to do whatever you are capable of here."
"Ash can make us breakfast without ever turnin' on the stove."
"I look forward to it," Douglas said, nodding.
Ash feebly nodded too. "Do we need to hide in the basement?"
Douglas made a hoarse laugh. "Only if we get visitors. You can pick a room upstairs or down here."
"I call upstairs," Gayle said, heading for the stairwell, her dress still shimmering around her.
"Of course," Douglas said. "I left the window open for you."
That made Ash feel safer than anything. He dropped his pack in the nearest room with a bed in it, then visited the bathroom he had found on the way. By the time he was finished, Gayle had changed out of the dress into sweatpants and a t-shirt, the rest of her loose hair around her shoulders. She was chatting with Douglas at the kitchen table, holding a coffee mug that advertised a local plumber's business, and Ash wondered if it actually held coffee.
"Hey Gayle," he said, sitting down beside them. He wasn't sure if he would be able to get back up again, though.
"Yeah, hon?"
"Tomorrow morning, I wanna get to church. We passed a little parish on the way that I've been to before."
"Sounds fine. We gotta stick together, though, so I'll be goin' with you."
"That's great," he said, yawning. "Since we need to do that, I thought maybe Azalea could come too. I don't know how to get her here, though."
"She'd like that for sure. Lumina's supposed to come by here tomorrow, since us two need to lie low for a while. Azalea'll ride along too."
"Even better. Alright then, I'm gonna get to bed now. See you all tomorrow."
"You do that, hon. Sleep tight."
He stumbled back to the bedroom and turned on the lamp on the side table, then closed the door softly. After shedding his torn jacket right on the floor, he fished around in his vest pockets for anything that would be too uncomfortable to sleep with. His phone was the first candidate, unharmed from the night's escapades, and he set an alarm to help him get up at a reasonable hour. That made him remember his nightly check in with Aidan, and he fumbled around to find a plug to charge it while he typed out the text.
Good news—found where Cascadia was being held. Bad news—couldn't get to her and now they've moved her somewhere else. Talk to you tomorrow.
He noticed a message from Azalea from earlier in the evening.
Hey, Gayle and I are going to Mass tomorrow morning, do you wanna come with?
He set the phone down on the table and got a response almost right away.
For sure, that would be great!
What happened to bedtime? B(
B( to you too, sir. :p I can't help it, Cascadia's book is just so great! I'm almost done.
He smiled. Cascadia had told him that one of her dreams was to annoy parents by having kids stay up late to read her books under the covers, just like she had done as a kid. He had to remember to tell her. All the things he wanted to say had been accumulating in his mind, swirling around him like little pieces of paper. They wrapped themselves up like a bouquet of flowers, and he wanted so badly to give it to her. He prayed to Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe that she would help him do it.
The very last thought on his mind was that he had missed his Rosary, and tomorrow he would say it with Azalea, for certain.
____********____
Rand wiped the dirt from his shoes, then took them off and wiped the dirt from his bare feet. Socks were too difficult to remove when he needed to do some earth moving, and he didn't want to track a mess all over the carpet again.
He unlocked the front door of the small, yellow-sided house and slipped inside as carefully as possible. Immediately, he stepped on a small plastic building block, but felt no pain through his toughened soles. Instead he smiled, picking it up and placing it back in the nearby bucket. Enough moonlight and street light came in through the large front windows so he could pick his way through the living room, around the couch and toward the bedroom. He was glad he had gotten a drive-through meal on the way back, if it could be called a meal. He was too tired to make anything, and didn't want to risk waking any of the house's four other inhabitants, at least the ones that could be easily woken.
She had left the door ajar, so he padded softly in and got dressed for bed, leaving his dirty suit in the corner hamper. Sitting on the mattress woke her up, of course.
"Rand, is that you?"
"Yes, Lydia."
"Oh, I thought it might be one of the boys wanting another hug. What time is it?"
"It's late. Don't worry about it." He laid down alongside her.
"Alright," she yawned. "Long night at work? Wasn't there a big party at the hotel?"
He could still hear Yin yelling at him over the approaching helicopter. Your shift doesn't end for two more hours, help me out here!
I have to go home, Yin. Trust me on this. I'll see you on Monday.
What the heck? Have you been talking to the subject again? I told you not to do that!
He hesitated. "Yes, it was a busy night."
"I'll bet," Lydia said, reaching out to embrace him. "I'm so glad you got such a raise after the promotion to Head of Security," she murmured, "otherwise these late nights would be just ridiculous. Instead, you're out there protecting Mr. Frost, and teaching the boys to be protectors too…"
Rand closed his eyes, even though it was quite dark. Who was he protecting? Mr. Frost could handle himself, even without his darkness on demand. Was keeping a young lady caged up the right thing? Even now, the pain in her eyes still haunted him. But what could be done? His family needed a future, so did hers. Why didn't she understand? There had to be a better way.
But there was, of course. If they could get everyone, all eight of them, both his side and the Brighteye side, to work together, they wouldn't have to mess around with the Engine at all. They could achieve true perfection, true unity. Peace through cooperation. It sounded wonderful, but how realistic was it?
He reached out and held his wife's hand, stroking the skin that was such a different color than his own. Light and freckled. His family was a testament to unity, the bridging of divisions. It could be done, he knew it firsthand.
"Ooh, she hears you," Lydia said, moving his hand down to her round belly. "She's kicking again."
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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Yin was right on multiple levels… get it?
Because it would be a bad idea for him to carry a red handkerchief…