For Darkness Shows the Stars

allotted number of feasts. Things were bad enough on the estate already, and they’d been getting steadily worse since the death of the baroness a year earlier. Baron North had had far too many duties to take over and concerns to keep himself occupied with. If someone was going to get more leisure time, it would be him, not his servants.
    He’d forbidden the concerts and practice sessions and confiscated the instruments from all the Reduced on the estate. Elliot could still see the bonfires—the flames that had once been a hallmark of harvest celebrations turned into pyres for the laborers’ only joy.
    Yet the restrictions had had little effect. More pipes and string-boxes had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and the practice sessions had gone on in secret. When the baron discovered that his own daughter was helping his people in their treason, he’d finally had an object toward which to aim his wrath.
    The first and only time Elliot had been glad that Kai had left was when the bad time came. Her father had come first for the Posts she’d liked best. Kai’s position on the farm had already been too precarious to have survived.
    “You hear some pretty scary things about the North estate down in the Post enclaves.”
    Elliot squeezed her hands together in her lap. “From him?”
    “From everyone.”
    Elliot grimaced. She could well imagine the stories that followed the affair. Reduced who disobeyed the baron’s orders were shown no mercy and no quarter. He extended the restrictions to the CORs, and when he learned that they were hiding their instruments, he dissolved the COR family housing units that had been in place as long as Elliot had been alive, and relegated all the CORs to single-sex, age-organized barracks alongside the Reduced. Children were taken from their mothers, common-laws were separated, and that’s when the real trouble started.
    And Elliot couldn’t protect any of them. Not then, not alone. She’d messed up badly, and the estate was still paying for it. It wouldn’t happen again.
    “Of course,” Andromeda said, “bad as you are, the estate where I was born was far worse.”
    “You left when you were quite young, I understand.”
    “Had to,” she replied. “Where I’m from, the lady of the estate believed all Posts were the product of . . . relations between the Luddites and the Reduced. We were made to bear the punishment for her husband’s sins.”
    “That’s horrible!” Elliot cried. And of course, since her mother had been Reduced, she could hardly have protected them—not like Dee could protect Jef. “Was your father Reduced, too?”
    Andromeda hesitated. “My father was the master, Elliot. Our lady wasn’t wrong about everything.”
    Elliot was glad for the darkness, glad Andromeda couldn’t see her mouth hanging open. Such things did not happen on the North estate. Hadn’t happened since she was young and Benedict had been sent away. Her father wouldn’t have it.
    “But even my father could not account for all the Posts that started crowding his estate. And you know Luddites. They wouldn’t do genetic testing to prove their theory one way or the other. My lady’s belief was that her God would never allow anything other than Luddite, Reduced, and the abominable combination of the two. To her, we were as abhorrent as a hybrid plant.”
    Elliot stiffened. Why, of all comparisons, had the Post chosen that one?
    “Here we are,” said Andromeda as she pulled up in front of the big house.
    Elliot looked over at the Post girl, but now that they were bathed in the light from the house window, Andromeda had once again fallen silent.
    “I am very sorry for what you were made to endure,” Elliot said at last.
    “Don’t be sorry for me,” said Andromeda. “Be sorry for those who still live there.” She stared down at the controls in her hands. “I hate the estates, but you are no monster. As long as there are people under your care, I hope you will care for them.”
    Elliot’s jaw tightened at her words. She didn’t need the blessing of this Post, no matter what Andromeda had been through. She’d known her duties since she could pronounce the word “Luddite.”
    “Be strong, Elliot.”
    Elliot didn’t respond, and instead turned to Ro. “Good night, Ro. I hope you enjoyed the music.”
    Ro nodded and leaned over the edge of the cart to give Elliot a hug.
    “She’ll show you where she lives,” Elliot said to Andromeda.
    “I’m serious,” said