Page 206 of Starside

In the last few hours, I’ve visited the room more times than I can count. Vander hasn’t stopped me. And the room … I think it’s starting to like me. It’s made me all sorts of dresses that I know I’ll never wear, but I like to look at them. I like to pretend, even for a few seconds, that this life could be mine.

It isn’t. I know that. It’s just a break from the endless hours spent researching in the library.

That’s where Vander found me a few minutes ago, far after midnight. He asked me if I would join him for some tea, and here I am, sitting on a thick balcony, knees pulled to my chest, overlooking the gardens.

“Your house is magnificent,” I say, glancing at Vander.

He looks at me curiously. “They don’t have homes like this on Stormside?”

A pang of sadness hits me. “They did, once.” I swallow. “The ones that are left … they’re nowhere near as grand as this.”

Vander Evren might be slightly terrifying, and have a massive ego, but he has shown me kindness. He has told me more than I thought the heir of a Great House would. I turn to him. There’s something I’ve been wondering for days now. “Have you ever been to the Land of the Gods?”

Vander blinks, as if pulled from a thought of his own. He shakes his head.

I lift a brow at him. “You are the greatest heir alive, as you and everyone in this house has reminded me.” I roll my eyes. “Why not journey there yourself during the quest? Why not try to get the magic?”

“The gifts of the immortal cup are unpredictable,” he explains. “It’s the same reason humans often don’t drink it for immortality. Few are strong enough to survive the Turn. For our kind, drinking the cup can lead to greatness … but it can just as easily become a curse. There are horror stories throughout the years that keep most of us from trying.” He lifts a shoulder. “We immortals value our lives more than you do. When you live this long, death isn’t an inevitability … It becomes something to fear.” I remember when Daphne said something similar. Daphne.

“I didn’t take you as one to be afraid, Evren,” I say.

A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. “Not for me,” he says. “I don’t have an heir. If I fall, the future of this house and my people is uncertain. They rely on me to protect them.” I get the sense he’s going to have to find a match at this ball. I wonder who will be enough for this impatient, prideful immortal heir.

“Protect them from what?” I ask.

His head tilts. “So many questions, human.”

Yes. So many. He doesn’t answer more of them as we walk back to the library. I expect him to leave me here, as he usually does, but he walks to the center of the room. The map pours from the silver of his sword again, melting across the table. “This is the farthest I’ve gone,” he says, pointing at a stretch of desert far east of here. The bottom of the sands Raker and I chose to avoid. “I made it all the way here … and turned around.”

“Why?” I ask, not imagining this immortal warrior turning away from anything. Especially so close to the Land of the Gods.

He rubs at his jaw. “There is a creature there that is deadlier than all the rest. It makes men their own worst enemies.”

I don’t know what that means. With the expression on his face, I know Vander won’t tell me. He looks haunted. Wounded.

“Why are you helping me?” I finally ask. Yet another question that has stirred in my head in the last few days. I know it isn’t just Stellan. As Vander said, he’s responsible for much more than just himself.

“Because the gods took something from me too,” he says. “And I’d like them to pay for it.”

The door whispers closed as he slips out of the room.

The morning of the ball, I’m in the library when Vander says, “Not him. He’s a snake. Try him.” He points at the list of Houses I’ve made.

I jump. “I didn’t even hear you coming,” I mumble under my breath, cursing his immortal speed and quiet.

His eyes sparkle with amusement. He offers his hand. “Let’s see what you’ve learned, human.”

I oblige him. While we get into the steps, he says, “Why did you take House Rodin off your list?” I know why he’s asking. It’s the house closest to the Land of the Gods.

“It serves the God of Death, according to your books,” I say. “He’s the god after me.”

Vander seems to consider that. “Put him back on. House Rodin historically has served the God of Death, but secretly, the last few centuries, he’s been working against him.”

“You think he’ll help me?” I say.

“If it means opposing the God of Death he hates so much … then yes.” I nod.

And we dance. In the middle of these books, in the muted light, we dance. Vander adds some variations, but I know the pattern well by now and adapt. That seems to shock him.