Page 173 of Starside

Leader?

The man who offered us a spot here steps forward. He walks around the crowd looking at hopeful faces before stopping in front of a tall man with long hair tied back into a single braid. “You,” he says.

The tall man smiles, steps forward, and carefully picks up the orb.

“It’s an honor to be at the front of the line, holding the light,” Daphne explains. “I’ve been picked twice before already. The light …” Her glimmering blue eyes drop to my neck. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”

I feel it, against my pulse. An energy. Magic. Daphne’s eyes don’t lift until a drum is beat, and then she stands. “Welcome to the group, Aris,” she says.

The drums don’t stop. Behind the tall man wielding the bright orb, three people play instruments. The music is beautiful but quickly becomes tiresome. I can’t see his face, of course, but by Raker’s stance, he is thinking of ways to kill me for putting us in this position.

But I don’t regret it. Because right after sunrise, we pass a group of Masks, waiting in the trees, clearly searching for their next targets. Though I would expect them to want to steal the orb, they keep their distance. Does their god not want conflict with the faelings? I’m not sure. But we pass without notice or incident.

Daphne finds me in the line soon enough. She stares up at Raker. With her height, I imagine she can see the flash of silver beneath the shadow of his hood.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” she says, speaking to me as if he’s not standing right there.

I shrug a shoulder. “He’s embarrassed by his face. He doesn’t have one.” I give my most sympathetic look. “It’s just … it’s just a coil of snakes under there.”

Daphne’s mouth parts in horror. She nods understandingly, readily believing that all humans might not look like immortals.

I can almost feel Raker glaring at me. It makes me smile.

Daphne bows her head before him. “I apologize for your … for your affliction,” she says, voice dripping with pity. Then she quickly moves down the line, as if Raker’s coil-of-snakes face could somehow be contagious.

I’m still smiling to myself when Raker says, “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

I lift a shoulder. “I think I’m hilarious.” I turn to him. “One of us has to be.”

“And if I really do have a coil of snakes as a face? Will you feel bad about mocking me?”

I blink, stunned to hear anything resembling teasing coming out of his mouth. I press my lips together, considering. “No,” I decide.

“No?” He seems shocked.

“No. You’re too much of an asshole for me to feel bad for you.”

He makes a derisive sound. “And you’re perfectly pleasant, Aris.”

There it is. My name again, sounding like an embrace. I ignore the chill working its way down my back.

“Thank you,” I say sweetly. “One of us has to be.”

We travel for two more days with the group, only stopping for a few hours every night. That’s when I realize this might have been a mistake.

Immortals don’t need sleep the way we do.

They stop just to play music, and to eat, and to tell ancient stories about the Traveling City, most of which don’t match what we saw at all. It’s nearly impossible to sleep, but I do, until a peel of laughter wakes me up.

I blink my eyes open, only to see a group of children circling Raker, holding wooden swords up, all of them pointed right at him.

Shit.

I rush to stand, worry gripping my bones, ready to save them from Raker and his perpetual bad attitude, when all at once, he slides his towering blade from his spine.

My eyes widen, my lips part—

I’m too late. There’s a crack as his blade meets one of those wooden swords.