Page 136 of Born of Starlight
We passed three horsemen from the Wastelands. I’d been told that those horses could ignite into flames, but they looked like average armored mounts now. The riders pressed their index and middle fingertips to their lips and then toward me.
“It’s a Brennac gesture of respect.” Fen leaned in to whisper to me. “You return it.”
I kissed my fingers and pointed back at the soldiers, who nodded as their Warhorses clopped away on the cobblestone.
What a strange new world we would usher in—opening the Wastelands. It was hard to know what came next.Would the northern rebels rebuild their forces? Could the realm return to peace after mutiny? With the Sisterhood dissolved, what consequences awaited us?
Vangard trailed behind us with his head hung low. He’d been hard at work digging for the fallen who had been stuck below collapsed buildings and debris. Wyeth had helped him by reshaping the ground, making it easier to rescue as many as we could—there were no longer shouts for help. Just a silent, dark, ruined city.
I let my hand slip into Fen’s as we neared the palace gates. Neither of us had let the other out of sight. Though it was unspoken, I imagined his fear mirrored my own.
We stepped through the palace gates, into the now-destroyed entry gardens. The grounds were transformed into a makeshift infirmary. Cassidee and Amara were patiently teaching Emmerick a Brennac healing charm to help with abrasions and minor wounds on his guards. Between the rips in his tunic, I could see that the Commander’s burns had been healed, but in their place, hand-shaped scars remained on his chest.
Emmerick, my friend, the heir of a divided Corridor. My throat constricted to think of the challenges that lay ahead of him. Since he looked to be a fast learner, it confirmed one thing—he possessed Source magic. Cassidee repeated the charm, and Amara showed him where to place his hands on a soldier with a laceration across his shoulder blades.
What had the Star Origin said in that dream-like place?
“‘The Origins bestow a great duty upon you,’” I mumbled into the night air.
Fen tilted his head toward me. “What’s that?”
I shook my head. “Nothing….at least I think nothing. When I wasgone.”My words made Fen visibly brace. “I went somewherein between.”
Fenris’ eyebrows rose. “Does that have something to do with why you are glowing?”
I managed a weak smile and nodded. “I believe I spoke with my namesake, Asterie. Though she was in no mortal form. She said that to me before letting me return.”
Fenris drew out a breath. “Leave it to the Sources above to be cryptic. Are you sure it was real? That they truly exist somewhere?”
“Can we be sureanythingis real?” I teased while squeezing his hand. But in my heart, I knew it had been Asterie of the Stars.
I didn’t have time to think about it any longer. King Krait Darvanda appeared from the shadows themselves. He barked orders at his men to assemble on the south lawn.
“Krait.” Fenris curtly greeted him as the Wasteland’s King passed.
Darvanda simply glared at Fen as he stormed away with a bearish growl. He snapped at a young boy to gather two loose Warhorses, calling him no less than five surly-delivered slights in the process.
“Friendly,” I murmured under my breath to Fenris.
He let out a low chuckle. “You have no idea…”
I didn’t.
But I wanted to learn about every part of Fen’s past—including his history with the grumpy King who had saved Luz. I wanted to let Fen unravel every piece of his life to me for centuries to come. We had that chance now to trulyknowone another.
Queen Sybilla approached us, looking flushed and carrying a stack of quilts from the palace. It was the first I’d seen her since waking up in the bailey, and we exchanged smiles. Emmerick was right—I did like the young Queen.
I needed to work up the nerve to ask her if I could stay to serve her court as she rebuilt.
Fen asked, “My Queen—where is my sister?”
Sybilla balanced the quilts in one hand and pointed up to the tower of the Keep with the other. “She still temporarily can’t walk—and cursed me up and down for locking her in the Keep again. Only so that she wouldn’tdragherself around trying to help. She was more of a tripping hazard than she was a help.”
Fenris stifled a laugh. “So—visitation?”
Sybilla chuckled back. “I might give her some time—last thing she said was ‘tell my hair-brained, fuck-all of a brother that I’m going to kill him for trying to leave me again.’ Amara sleep-charmed her and said she’ll be right as rain by morning.”
My attention lingered uneasily on the King of the Wastelands.
