"Leave him alone," Daedalus said, his soft voice growling as he shoved an un-Blended man away from Domi. Hovering at his shoulder, Ficus throbbed in warning, glossy blue filaments flung wide and rigid in a threat display.

Domi would have snorted--Dae was still giving him the silent treatment but deigned to protect him from protesters?--but as the man's burlap-wrapped fingers ripped several strands of hair from his scalp, he was too scared to scoff. And he wasn't the only one; against his neck, Lilio writhed in terror, his filaments hardening like wire.

The man Daedalus had shoved stumbled back, but the mob still swelled by the second. Like restless waves, the throng pressed against the gates lining the Via Pomosa. Once, fruit trees had flourished where the barriers now stood, but they'd long since succumbed to the bitter cold, and the medicine flowers that had grown in their place lay trampled in the sun-blushed snow.

The man who had grabbed him leaned over the barrier, fists gripping it tight, and shouted, "Tell that traitor mother of yours that we demand to see these outsiders! She has no right to hide them from us!"

"This is our world!" a woman behind him bellowed from within the thick scarf protecting her from the icy wind.

Like the man, the hints of her face that Domi could see remained a rich brown, untouched by blue spores. She must be cold, even with all of the layers, yet people like her preferred to freeze to death than accept warm clivia-weave clothing and blankets, let alone clivia spores. And she wasn't too cold for violence.

As he glanced at her, she threw a rock, narrowly missing Ficus before She Loves the Snow deflected the stone with a casual flick of white filaments. Her eyes showed too much white as she howled, "Death to bestias and outsiders! Death to all Blended!"

"Come, young ones," Aix said, voice quiet but tense as he shouldered in front of the twins and nudged a narrow-eyed Sidus to stay behind him. Several Electi hurried forward at the old man's nod, closing tightly around them as they made their way up the road to the Onyx Palace.

"Who are they talking about, Erus?" Daedalus asked, blue brow furrowing as he reached out and, cupping Ficus, gently tucked the seething clivia into the hood of his paenula. Furious heat waves radiated off the pup even from within the warm fabric. "Outsiders, they said?"

The Pullati Electi walking next to him gaped, her sapphire-flecked eyes widening. "You have not heard, young Erus?"

"Heard what?" Domi couldn't avoid hunching his shoulders as another stone sailed overhead. Ever since his ma had become Rex, there had always been a handful of protesters lining the road to the Arx Luminosa palace complex. But this was different than a few disgruntled Promethidae or struggling Pyrrhaei hoping to voice their greviances.

He glanced up at the Star, unease twisting his belly. She Loves the Snow and He Dreams of Sunlight had tried to visit the upper atmosphere several times during the trip home to see what the weird light was, but Bridger had never let them rise above the clouds. Did the Star have something to do with this new unrest?

Not for the first time, he tipped his awareness into the Communion, reeling at the kaleidoscopic maelstrom of life and thought there. Yet his question only echoed back to him like a ball bouncing off a wall.

With a frown, he slid back into normal awareness, feeling like he shrank from the size of the sky to a speck of dust as he did so. "I haven't heard anything, and the Communion is blocked or something," he grumbled. "Who are these outsiders everyone's talking about?"

The Electi woman's mouth worked, tugging at a scar above her lip. "The outsiders are... they..." She shook her head, eyes narrowing past him at the crowd. "Well, it is not my place to say, young Erus. That's a question best brought to the Rex."

They reached the Western Gates, where more Blended Electi waited in tense silence at the entrance to the Onyx Palace. Once, the walls that gave Arx Luminosa its name had shone with pale white magical light, and glowing night-side flowers had lined their base in a tidy row. Now, the walls themselves lay cold and dark, but the flowers grew over them in a thick tangle, gleaming violet and periwinkle. Only the gates allowed passage to the five palaces and Seminarium Luminosa within, and only because the Eyes stopped the flowers from sealing them.

Today however, Domi's ma's lieutenant Karae flung the black double doors wide to admit them, then followed them inside and closed it with a loud clang.

Domi started, and Aix shot the Pullati woman a sharp look. "Locked?" the old man asked. The Onyx Palace's great salutatio hall was never barred to the public.

Karae's striking yellow eyes narrowed in her cobalt face as she gazed at the black doors, as though she could see the crowd outside. "Yes, Erus. Rex's orders. To protect the outsiders."

The 'outsiders' again... Domi strode under amber resin lamps and across obsidian tile to the woman standing atop the dias.

Merula wore a long black tunica and a worried expression. "Were you able to get through the crowd safely?" she demanded, reaching out to pull him near. She was already turning him this way and that and looking him over like he was some little kid, even as she crooked a finger at Daedalus.

Domi's twin strode near and endured the same with confused grace, then blinked as a tall man with wavy black hair stepped from behind the massive obsidian throne. "Father."

Domi met his brother's gaze, the silence of the past few days unbroken even as they cast each other frowns. Ausus and Merula had been spending a lot of time together lately--more than was necessary for the work of statecraft--and Domi knew it weirded Dae out too.

"They're safe, Augustus," Aix said with a glance at the closed and barred doors. "But it was tense. Far worse than I have seen in a while."

"I think the election is part of it," Ausus said, glancing at Merula with a small frown even as both Lilio and Ficus flitted to him and landed on his shoulders. "I keep saying we should delay until this unrest blows over, but--"

"No." Merula shook her head as everyone looked at her. "Our people need tomorrow's elections now more than ever."

"But the mob--"

"Their concern is natural, Ausus." She crossed her arms, steel-blue gaze unyielding. "We can't snatch away their right to choose the leaders they think will best address their concerns."

Domi nibbled his lip. "The crowd said something weird."

"'Outsiders,'" Aix said pensively. "And I cannot find any information when I enter the Communion, Augustus." He frowned. "It is as though the Four Sisters are rebuffing me."

Merula nodded and cast Ausus one of the looks that they'd been sharing more and more during the past few weeks. Domi couldn't help but notice that they'd also dropped the honorifics everyone but close friends and family used. "The Sisters decided to suppress information in Communion until the negotiations are complete. They're not sharing anything until we have concrete facts to offer."

"Negotiations with who, Augustus?" Sidus asked.

Domi's Ma and Da exchanged another look. It was Ausus who responded, raking a lock of wavy black hair from his face as he drew a deep breath. "Remember what the Holy Ovidiana tells us about the Daughter of the Generations?"

Daedalus nodded immediately. "It was the first barge that the gods cast upon the Black Seas." He frowned. "Supposedly."

"She of the Endless Journey," Aix murmured.

Domi nodded. He didn't believe that stuff anymore and knew Dae didn't either. At least, not the part about the gods. But supposedly, all of the barges in scripture were actually ships that traveled great distances between planets.

His heart began to race as he glanced at the window on the hall's western wall, where the Star gleamed below the crimson sun.

"Well," Merula said, then swallowed. "The ship is real, and its journey isn't endless. It's come to Aquarius, and we're hosting some of its passengers here at the palace."

***

"So, you want us to attend the Seminarium with the children of... of starfaring sailors?" Daedalus was the first to clarify when Merula finished catching them up.

"This is going to be awesome," Domi said, feeling the grin stretch over his face as he swung Sidus's hand. They all sat on the steps leading up to the dais. "So, when do we meet them?" Some of the outsiders had fangs, his ma had said. Fangs.

"After your lesson with Valens. But..." Merula hesitated, then drew her shoulders back. "Boys, you're not going."

"To our lesson?" Her meaning sank in a moment after the words left his lips, and he gaped. "Wait, what? Of course we are!"

Aix cleared his throat and nodded to Sidus. "Come along, young man. This sounds like a family matter."

As the two rose from the steps and departed, Merula spared them a glance and then turned back to the twins and pups. "Your father and I have discussed this, and we agree. It's just too dangerous."

"Seriously? But happened to 'Attending the school will be an important step toward healing the fractures that divide our planet?'" Domi asked, exchanging a frustrated look with Daedalus as Ficus and Lilio radiated wordless protest in waves of smoldering crimson. "And all that other stuff you said last month?"

"That was when it was just students from Aquarius who would be attending." Merula sighed. "Adding the children from the Daughter of the Generations will be a gamble. Our people don't really know who the 'outsiders' are yet, and yet there is already growing discontent. When the news breaks, it could get far worse."

"It may blow over once the election is behind us," Ausus pointed out mildly. He shook his head as the twins cast him a hopeful glance and the pups pulsed the same in cherry heatwaves. "But I agree with M--your mother, Domi. This is too volatile now. We can't risk it." He glanced at She Loves the Snow. "What are your thoughts, though? Ficus and Lilio are your pups."

The clivia woman's pearly-white filaments shimmered as she strummed them together to speak. "Our pups are in no danger from other First People or Second People," she said in her low cello-like voice. "But I only know what to expect of the clivia and lolligines, as you call us. I don't know how your kind here or these others of your kind from the ship will behave." She rippled burgundy assent toward Ausus. "I would prefer to keep Ficus and Lilio from danger."

Ficus drifted up from of Ausus's shoulder, pale-blue filaments bristling. "But we cannot ask other families to take that risk with their young and refuse to do so ourselves, Dam."

"Besides," Lilio added, flitting away from Ausus and landing on Domi's shoulder. "We're not pups. Not anymore." He waved his aquamarine filaments pointedly. He and Ficus had shed their dark baby tendrils a few months before, once the Eyes had deemed their hereditary modifications suitable to pass on to a new generation. "It should be our choice."

Reproductive maturity is not adulthood, He Dreams of Sunlight said, emitting waves of raspberry amusement that left both pups bristling in irritation.

Domi decided to try a different approach as he fixed Merula with his most persuasive smile. "Well, kids or not, aren't you always saying we should lead by example? If we want the public to support the school but don't show our own support, what then?"

"I love your passion," Merula said dryly, and Domi wilted, "but the answer is still no." She held up a hand as he opened his mouth. "You four aren't like other kids on Aquarius. Especially you and Dae. You have far more enemies. The school is risky enough as it is, which is why all of the students must be willing volunteers. But I'm sorry, that risk is too great for you."

"This is one of the most important things to happen ever, and you won't let us be a part of it!" Domi seethed.

Merula sighed. "If this works out, the Irtlij will soon call Aquarius their home. You four will have your whole lives to get to know them."

"But Augustus, we want to help make it possible for them to stay," Daedalus said politely, but by the glum note in his voice, Domi's twin likely knew they'd lost the chance to persuade her.

"Too bad." Merula shook her head as the twins glared and the pups radiated resentment. "Kids, this conversation is over." She dipped her chin toward the door behind the throne.

As the four of them made their way down the corridor of the palace's private wing, Daedalus finally deigned to speak to Domi. "I cannot believe we are not going," he muttered.

"Yes, we are," Domi said firmly. His hands clenched, and on his shoulder, Ficus, who had been slumping dejectedly, straightened. "She just doesn't know it yet."

"What?" Lilio asked, rising out of Daedalus's paenula hood as the older twin paused and stared.

Domi shrugged. "We're going to sign up without her knowing."

"We are?" his twin asked doubtfully.

"She will just take us right back off of the list," Ficus pointed out.

"Not if it's released before she knows we're on it," Domi said. He offered a smug grin as Daedalus blinked at him and the pups pointed several filaments his way in eager attentiveness. "Then it'll be too awkward to remove us. Not unless she wants a public spectacle."

"You cannot be serious," Daedalus said, staring at him as though he'd sprouted clivia filaments from his ears. "She said no."

"So?" Like that mattered. His ma always lay down the law and he always found ways to bend the rules. That was their way.

"So, she is the Rex," Daedalus said, staring at him incredulously. "And your mother."

Domi shrugged. "She's a worrywart." He arched his brows at his twin and reached out to clasp Daedalus's shoulders. "Come on, don't you want to do this? I know Ficus and Lilio do." The pups were pulsing excited cherry ripples of heat.

His twin's expression was already crumbling into reluctant acceptance. "Yes, but--"

"Then let's do it!" He gave Daedalus a light shake, then stepped back, grinning as his brother finally nodded.

Ficus swung his filaments from one of them to the other. "We are going to be grounded for the next five centuries."

Domi shrugged. "She'll be pissed for a bit, but she'll get over it."

"I hope you are right," Daedalus said, but he was beginning to look excited, a new light glinting in his blue eyes.

Domi swung an arm over his twin's shoulders, smirking. "I'm always right."

He hesitated, smile falling. Should he bring it up? Dae had just barely started talking to him again...

He squared his shoulders. "Speaking of being right... You should go see your daughters."

Daedalus tensed under his arm, but after a moment sighed and nodded.

Domi grinned. "Great. And I'm going to go see Radix."

***

"There you are."

For a moment, Daedalus could not see Edera past all of the plants crowding her bedchamber. The sixteen-year-old lifeholder may not have been a sorcerer any longer, but she was still a botanist by training.

She stepped between two sporetower seedlings in enormous planters, slippers whispering against obsidian tile. To Daedalus's immense relief, her expression was more pleased than annoyed, even as she carried two squirming bundles in her arms. Behind her, water gurgled in the adjoining lavatory as it flowed down a drain.

He studied her scrunched nose, his gaze sliding from there to her bronze cheekbone. No bruise. Not anymore. "You..." He swallowed. "It looks better." But the words did not make him feel any better.

She bent over a white clivia-fiber bassinet and lowered one of their infant daughters into it, then rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Dae." She straightened Lucis's tunica as the babe kicked tiny dark-olive feet, then patted the other babe's back as Solis shrieked happily in the crook of her arm. "I told you not to worry about it."

"I hit you." The monstrous words seemed to lodge in his chest even as he voiced them, leaving no room to draw a breath.

Edera's face softened. She cupped the back of Solis's head, fingers stroking downy swirls of black hair. "No, you accidentally bumped me in your sleep." She lay the babe down beside the older twin, then stretched and crossed her arms. "I'm fine. I may not be able to Blend until these two are weaned, but I still have plenty of prometus." She tapped her cheek. "It barely bruised, and it healed almost immediately."

"Still." The guilt writhing through him for all of these weeks would not rest, and his heart lurched as he recalled waking from yet another nightmare to the sound of her yelp. He had hurt her, even if she denied it. His knuckles had bruised her cheek. Nothing she said could undo that. "You--our daughters--"

"They sleep here now," she said, patting the bassinet, "not in bed with me. They're safe with you, Dae. So please, stop worrying so much. We're fine."

The more she sought to reassure him and excuse his vile actions, the more the familiar restlessness welled up. "Still. I..." He glanced at the door. "I should go. Valens said--"

Her eyes narrowed. "What did that arse say?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. He should not have brought it up.

Edera scowled, hands shifting to her hips. "Dae, are you avoiding us because Valens ran his mouth about something? Because if so--"

"No!" He shook his head as she gave him a skeptical look. "I just do not want to hurt you. Or Luci and Soli."

"Growing up without ever seeing their father will hurt them," she said, her voice so blunt that he winced. She fixed him with a stern look, echoes of her aunt Arbita in the expression. "At least spend some time with them. You're awake now, right? So you won't have nightmares." She sighed. "Besides, I need a break."

He gulped, stomach sinking as he glanced at their daughters. The twins had grown a lot these past three months, but they were still so small. "Edera, I do not know..."

"Well, I do," she said, exasperation making her snap the words. "I love them, but I've been stuck here all alone with them for weeks while you took a nice long vacation. So now it's my turn for a break." She strode across the room. "Enjoy your time with them."

He frowned as she pulled a pale gray paenula of donated clivia fiber from the wardrobe. "What are you going to do?"

"Besides spend some time doing something, anything, other than changing diapers?" She tugged the paenula over her tunica and glanced at him as she straightened it. "Have you heard about the outsiders and the changes to the Seminarium? I'm going to sign up. The Rex gave me her permission today."

Daedalus gritted his teeth. "Of course she did," he grumbled, then shrugged as her brow furrowed in confusion. "Never mind." He drew a deep breath. "Go." She was right; she deserved a break, even if he was the last person their daughters ought to be near. "I... I will watch our girls."

And pray to the god he no longer truly believed in that they would be safe with him.

"Good," she said dryly and flounced to the door, calling over her shoulder, "And do me a favor and water the plants while I'm gone!"