Page 72 of Born of Starlight
I knew exactly when it had happened. My fingers tapped against my thigh in thought. Pulling strings, wearing masks and playing multiple sides of political favor. It was a Firose specialty.
But Amara didn’t know about the first time, andIcouldn’t fucking tell her. So, instead, I changed the subject.
Glancing at the ink on my arm, I shared what I’d withheld from Asterie and Emmerick.
“I let Van follow a pride of Lynx that passed my cabin. They went to the Plateau, to a rip in the wards. They were escorting men from the Wastelands away. Traveling east…”
Amara’s back straightened. “How recently?”
I squinted, contemplating that. Time was so relative. “The same day Asterie turned up in the woods and was nearly eaten byanotherpride of Lynx wandering toward the Plateau.”
Amara let her head fall into her hands with a sigh. “I believed that she was building an army in the North. I didn’t know magic-wielders would be among them. The rest of the Corridors—we’ll be sitting ducks.”
Amara had never been one for commanding armies or planning warfare. I watched as she recovered her posture.
We both stared at one another, lost for words—it seemed like it was just yesterday I’d last seen her. Yet that was decades ago.
“The blue flames”—I pointed at the atrium—“those don’t come from me.”
Amara smiled. “A gift from the Stars, maybe.”
“You’ve kept a lot from me, old friend.”
Amara was the only one to speak to me after the fall of Phynx, the only one to look at me like I wasn’t a monster.
“And the boy, how does he fit in?” I asked.
“You’ve met him before. They can’t know—it’s unsafe for them to know.”
She stared hopelessly out into the atrium.
Thirty years ago…
A knock sounded at my cabin door; I immediately shot to my feet and formed fire in my hands.
“Who is it?” My voice boomed.
“Amara.” Following her voice was the soft coo of a child.
It could be a trap, but I didn’t care. I flung open the door to see her there and nearly sobbed at the familiarity of Amara’s face. In her arms, a child was bundled in blue—tanned skin and golden eyes beamed up at me.
“I don’t have long—I need your help.” Her voice was laced with a fear that I’d never known Amara capable of. Amara didn’t reveal much. “It’s better the less you know. The less anyone knows, the harder he will be to find. The conception of immortals is now outlawed—they’ll kill him, Fen. She’ll kill him.”
She explained it all quickly in jumbled sentences.
“All of the magic-wielders have been forced out into the Wastelands,” she told me.
“All of them?”
“The realm is entirely without magic. Only immortals who weren’t gifted Source magic were allowed to stay. But they aren’t allowed to conceive.”
Her words were frantic. I’d never seen her so affected.
“I need to hide him,” she pleaded. And, so, I helped her.
That night, we cast a spell to stunt the babe’s magic, to suppress it until he was ready.
“Odd how they found each other,” I said.
