For Darkness Shows the Stars

teeth and followed, amazed that such a tall horse even needed to jump the barrier.
    “I chose Andromeda’s name, too,” she added when Elliot caught up. “Do you think it suits her?”
    “No,” Elliot admitted. “The mythological Andromeda was a damsel in distress. Chained to a rock, forced to wait for Perseus to save her. But Andromeda Phoenix seems very little like that.”
    Felicia gave her a look as unreadable as any of Andromeda’s. “I think she’d like to hear that from you.”
    Elliot was quite sure not. She’d gathered that Andromeda, perhaps alone among the Cloud Fleet, knew exactly what she had once been to Kai. “Perhaps she can say it’s for the sky Andromeda, the galaxy you can see with the naked eye. I have read about it in the books, though I know you can’t see it here. It’s supposed to be very beautiful. Since Andromeda Phoenix is an explorer, it’s a good name for her.”
    “You should definitely tell her that. We tried a few others, but nothing stuck, and this is closest to her old name, Ann. She’s still adjusting to it, and to life as a free Post.”
    “I thought she ran away from her estate as a child,” Elliot said.
    “She did.” Felicia looked out over the fields. “Not all Posts who run away from their estates wind up free.”
    Elliot led the way to a path that cut through the woods, but her mind whirled with questions. Where had Andromeda gone, if it was not to an enclave to be free? How had she found her way into the Fleet? How long had Kai been a member of the Fleet and how had he met the Innovations? But she knew those questions would just raise other ones in Felicia’s mind, so she stuck to something simpler.
    “Why do the free Posts change their names?”
    “Why should we keep the names that mark us as secondary citizens?” Felicia asked. “I was born on a Luddite estate and given the name Lee. I was told who and what I was allowed to become. We give the Reduced one-syllable names because they can’t handle anything more. But I am not Reduced. When I left that life, I left those limitations as well. I chose my own name.” Felicia smiled at her. “If you were a Post, you would want that choice, too.”
    Elliot pretended to rearrange her grip on the reins, letting loose strands of hair fall into her face to cover her thoughts.
    They broke through the other side of the woods, scattering fallen leaves in their wake. They’d reached the lower fields now, and the baron’s racetrack. The shoddy state of many of the fences delineating the fields, as well as the unkempt gardens and crumbling, vacant Post cottages, seemed even more noticeable beside the neat lines of the racetrack and the shiny pavilion. Elliot could only imagine what Felicia thought.
    “When your father is gone, will Tatiana be the new Baroness North?”
    “No. My cousin will inherit. His father was my father’s older brother. By some arguments, the land should be his now, since he’s of age, but he left when he was very young.”
    Actually, he had been banished, but there was no need to air all the family’s dirty laundry. Elliot spent a few minutes pointing out the sights and the boundary of the estate, then started up the road that led to the Boatwright estate and the sea. The path before them grew rocky, and Elliot slowed their pace as the horse whinnied and picked its way up the steep slope.
    Pyrois’s hooves slipped sideways on a patch of scree, and Elliot bit back a shriek as the horse raced to right herself. The mare took off, clambering up the hillside while Elliot clung to her neck for dear life. When they reached level ground, the horse stopped, snorting and tossing her head.
    Felicia cantered up and reached out to soothe the animal. “There, there, Pyrois.” She stroked Pyrois’s ears and neck, and the horse leaned into the woman’s touch, calming instantly and making Elliot even more embarrassed.
    Elliot struggled to catch her breath. “I told you I wasn’t good at riding.”
    “So, Tatiana is the horsewoman in the family,” Felicia said with a smile clearly meant to put Elliot at ease.
    Elliot forced a laugh. “Yes. She takes after my father. I take after my mother—I like plants more.”
    “With your name, I wonder you aren’t a Boatwright like your grandfather.”
    “I might have been had my grandfather been able to keep the yard open long enough for me to learn. He became ill when I was still very young. My mechanical skills are—rudimentary at