Aster led the way through Port Sirius, her boots clicking against the polished tile floor. A range of different attractions lined both walls on the lower and upper levels, ranging from cafes to clothing stores to the typical tourist gift shops replete with "I love Antarctica" knickknacks.
They stopped to buy him a new jacket, snow pants, and a pair of lined boots. Aster waved off Jove's attempt at offering to pay her back eventually.
"It's no trouble," she said. "The last thing I want to see is my little nephew freeze to death at the south pole."
"Not so little anymore, but I take your meaning."
"Don't think I didn't notice." She winked at him before turning to scribble her signature on the payment touchscreen with a stylus. "Now let's go find that sister of yours."
"This place is a little off-putting," he said, looking around. "There are shops everywhere but no customers. I can't imagine how much money it costs to keep this place running."
"It's the billionaire Victor Vasquez's pet project," said Aster, with a frown. "Some reporter asked him what he thought about me coming all the way down here and he made some offhand comment about how he was hoping to bump into me."
She made a face. Victor Vasquez, while rich, wasn't exactly of the handsome billionaire archetype.
"Your adoring nephew will shut down any attempts to make unwanted small talk on his part, assuming he makes the attempt," said Jove. "Not that it would go over well, regardless. This place is borderline eerie."
"Don't worry, darling," said Aster. "We won't be here long."
She led them out of the store and around a corner, the ambient music shifting to generic jazz as they arrived at a small bar with a single, familiar patron. Eve sat drinking a cocktail and looking remarkably bored.
Her hair, a shock of inky black in the dim light, was pulled back into a ponytail. Her baggage and belongings were piled haphazardly beside her, and her skis leaned precariously against a nearby table.
Even surrounded by the faded grandeur of Port Sirius, she exuded an air of barely contained energy, like a storm waiting to break. Their eyes met, hers startlingly blue and reminiscent of their aunt's. Was it annoyance he saw staring back at him? Or perhaps a hint of guilt?
"Jove," said Eve. "Took you long enough."
"Eve." Jove crossed his arms, not taking a seat and not expecting her to stand. "Don't blame me for your decision to arrive early."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll do enough blaming for the both of us." She spoke in a flat tone, pausing to finish the last of her cocktail.
"Don't tell me the two of you are still mad at each other?" Aster let out another one of her dramatic sighs and shook her head. "It was years ago."
Jove felt the memory slap him like the unforgiving Antarctic cold. The sound of police sirens, the flashing of red and blue outside the house he'd sneaked into. Him and his friends arguing in whispered voices over whether to hide or run. Eve admitting she hadn't known he'd be there too when she called the report in, but stubbornly insisting she'd done the right thing anyway.
"I'm over it," said Jove, wishing he really was. She'd never apologized — that was still what stung most.
"Can we get moving now?" Eve glanced away, changing the subject like she always did. "The guide gave me a lecture on the dangers of the cold but I'm more liable to die from sheer boredom if I have to stay in this tourist trap a second longer."
"Relax, darling," said Aster. "Let me go up to my room to throw my outer layers on. We'll set out immediately after."
She waved with her fingers, starting off before Jove could think of an excuse to go with her. He stayed where he was, stewing in the uncomfortable silence next to his sister. He felt that urge to demand an apology, but didn't give into it, as usual. An apology would only be worth a damn freely given.
The seconds ticked by in agonizing, awkward torture as neither of them said anything. Jove eventually made his way over to the bar as though considering getting a drink, but the distance only made the rift between himself and his sister that much more conspicuous. Aster took her sweet time coming back down from where their hotel rooms presumably were on the upper level.
"Alright," said Aster in a disappointed tone. "We need to go find your mother's lackey at the south gate. We're going to be taking snowmobiles across the ice and he'll be our guide. Better hope the two of you don't have to double up."
"I'll ski the entire way there if it comes to that," muttered Eve.
Jove felt his anger flare up like a gas stovetop. "Damn straight you will."
They glared at one another, silence now tinged with anger, but no more bearable, no less infuriating. Aster started walking and Jove fell into step next to her, wishing they could just leave Eve behind entirely.
Aster seemed to know where she was going, though the building's open layout made it near impossible to get lost, regardless. She led them toward the south gate, which seemed intended for larger deliveries given its size and industrial appearance.
A figure bundled in so many layers it was difficult to discern their age or gender stood in front of it, in the midst of unwrapping his head as though fresh in from the cold. As the scarf and goggles came loose, a young, freckled face emerged, topped by a shock of fiery red hair.
"No fucking way," said the young man. "You're… Aster Hathaway. Oh my god, this is unreal! Are you seriously part of the group Director Faremont wants me to bring to Termina?"
"I suppose I am," said Aster, smiling.
"Ms. Hathaway, I can't believe I'm meeting you in person! My name is Ryan! I don't even know what to say!"
"That's quite alright, you don't have to say anything. Are the snowmobiles—"
"I have to get a photo with you! My friends will never believe this!"
Aster laughed uncomfortably and glanced at Jove, who took the hint and stepped closer to her.
"We really need to get moving," he said. "Some other time, maybe."
"My boyfriend is a little overprotective, but I'm sure you can imagine how much unwanted attention I get," said Aster, surprising Jove by putting a hand on his shoulder. "How about I see what I can do when I get back?"
"Of course, of course!" Ryan nodded and gestured to the door next to the gate. "I didn't realize, I thought you were Director Faremont's, um… never mind! I have the snowmobiles set up already, so I'll just explain how to ride and we can set off. We'll use a sled to carry your bags and the rest of your stuff."
Aster hung back a step, leaning in to whisper for Jove's ear only. "Thank you, darling. I find the pestering tends to peter out faster if I pretend that I have a big, strong boyfriend nearby."
Jove chuckled, feeling an odd flush come to his face. "I like to think I fit that description."
"Oh, trust me, you do."
They shared a moment of interesting eye contact that almost gave him whiplash in comparison to his earlier stare down with Eve. Ryan managed to force open the door, which had seemingly frozen partially shut. The blast of Antarctic chill felt different against the strange heat of the moment. Aster looked away first, her hand squeezing his shoulder as she started forward, hips swaying and showing off her surprisingly tight snow pants.