“So it’s not a weapon, then, like Gage was told?” Ian asks.
“That’s not its primary purpose,” Merrick answers, “but like all things of great power, likely it can be used for destruction as well as creation.”
“And the alien DNA?” Max says. “Is that true?”
Merrick smiles. “It is. At least for some of us. No one knows what happened to the Ancients and why they vanished. But once we found the artifacts, we did research and uncovered much of what I’m telling you.”
“And it looks like the Corporation was doing the same sort of research,” Gage says.
Merrick frowns. “Yes, I wasn’t aware of that. But these secrets were bound to come out in the end.”
I feel sick. All these years, the Sisterhood saw our doctrine as a way to spread the word, and now, all these years later, people are being tortured—and murdered—by the Corporation because of something they have absolutely no control over: their DNA. It’s disgusting. And terrifying. And even worse than I imagined.
“Which is your way of saying that anyone could have alien DNA.” Max looks a little green and I understand his unease. The possibility of being from the Ancients is something I’ve lived with my entire life. I believe it makes us special, believe that we hold a part of the Light inside us. But I imagine being a part of a gestalt could make someone question a lot of what the Sisterhood believes.
“According to the Book of the Dying Sun,” I say, “when a high priestess dies, a new one is reborn. Sometimes it takes a while, but it always happens. And that person has the power to activate and control alien artifacts like the heptosphere. Essentially, the high priestess is the Star Bringer. I’m the Star Bringer.”
Most everyone is looking at me at this point—except Ian. He’s glaring at Merrick like he puked on his good shoes.
“So have you…ever activated an alien artifact?” Beckett asks me. Thankfully, she seems fascinated and not disgusted.
“No. But then none of the high priestesses who came before me have either. Our scriptures say that our powers will manifest when the time is right.”
Ian is still looking at Merrick when he says, “The Star Bringer is the high priestess, Merrick?”
Merrick sighs, and the weight of the entire system is in the sound. It stops the blood in my veins for a second.
“Yes,” Merrick says. He looks right at me. “The high priestess is the Star Bringer. And the Star Bringer…is Kali.”
Chapter 73
Rain
For a second, I’m sure that I’ve heard incorrectly. Merrick can’t possibly be saying what I think he’s saying. Not only is Kali the Star Bringer, she’s also the high priestess? But that’s impossible. That’s what I am.
Before I can say anything, though, Ian whirls around and stalks toward Merrick like he wants to kill him—or at least punch the stuffing out of him. Max must think so, too—and of course he does, I realize; he’s inside Ian’s head—because suddenly he’s there, between the two men.
He slams a hand down on Ian’s chest. “Back up,” he tells him, but Ian doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to listen. To be fair, he hasn’t been in the mood to listen to anything or anyone since we woke up to find Kali gone.
“Not until he tells me what the fuck he’s talking about,” Ian growls. “How are the Star Bringer and High Priestess of the Sisterhood of the Light connected?”
“They’re one and the same,” Merrick clarifies. “The Sisterhood seeks out the high priestess specifically because she’s the one who interacts with alien technology. Because she’s the Star Bringer.”
“What the fuck?” Ian says what I bet we’re all thinking. “How could everyone think Rain’s the high priestess if you’re saying it’s actually Kali?”
“Because the Sisterhood faked it,” Merrick says. “And everything’s gone to absolute shit since.”
“Faked it?” I gasp as everything inside me reels from the knowledge. “How is that possible?” And why? I’ve spent my whole life locked up in that monastery thinking that something was really wrong with me because I didn’t feel things the way they said that I should, the way other high priestesses always have. And now I find out it’s because it was all a lie? I’m just…a regular person?
Why would someone do that to Kali? And why would someone do that to me?
For a second, I can’t breathe.
I know it’s selfish, know I shouldn’t be thinking about myself right now when so much else is at stake. Including Kali’s safety, plus the safety of the three inner planets, and the safety of the entire system. And I do care about all of those things. I do. But I still need a minute, because this is bad. This is really bad.
“How long have you known?” I ask Merrick hoarsely.
He shakes his head. “I’ve suspected for a while. But I knew for sure when I saw Kali wake up the heptosphere.”
“It was her?” I ask, and now my heart is beating out of control. “You know for sure she did it and not me?”
“I was watching,” he said. “Very closely, because I wanted it to be you. I wanted to be wrong. But I wasn’t. It was definitely Kali.”
“Why didn’t you say something, then, when Kali was so sure?” I demand.
“I’ve spent my whole life being loyal to the Sisterhood,” he answers. “Was I really supposed to just give all that up to a bunch of people I barely know? Besides, I thought she was staying on the ship, at least until we made it to the Wilds. I thought I had more time to get confirmation and figure out what to do.”
I’ve known something was wrong with him ever since the Caelestis. I thought it was because of me and the fact that I wasn’t behaving as a high priestess should. But it turns out he really was having a crisis of faith. Over this, not over me.
“You should have said something,” I tell him, an unfamiliar feeling burning in the pit of my stomach. It’s so rare for me that it takes me a few seconds to recognize it as anger. “If not to them, to me. You know everything I’ve been struggling with. And now I know it’s because I’m nothing but a fake.”
“Rain—” he starts, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.
“You should have told me.”
Ian has finally calmed down enough that he doesn’t look like he’s going to kill Merrick, but I figure that can change at any time. Max must think so, too, because I notice he doesn’t move from between them.
“Why did you first start to have suspicions?” I ask.
“I had a vision five years ago of what I thought was my father’s death,” he answers. I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.
“Your father just died a few months ago,” I say gently, because I know it’s something that hurts him greatly. And no matter how angry I am at Merrick right now, I could never want to cause him pain.
“I know. Because it wasn’t a vision of his death at all. It was a vision of his brother’s.”
I remember what he told me in the galley when neither of us could sleep. “Kali’s father,” I murmur.