Page 211 of Starside

“Good. Remember to look at the crests. Get your invitations, Aris. Your quest depends on it. I’ve done all I can, for Stellan.”

Then he’s gone. And I’m alone.

So, it begins.

The fear of not finding another partner vanishes when I immediately spin into another’s embrace.

His crest is clear on his suit. So is the blade at his hip.

Heir of House Ashcroft. They have a sprawling estate in the south, surrounded by woods. He killed four of his siblings in duels to win his sword.

There are four heirs on my list. Four houses that stand between here and the Land of the Gods.

His is one of them.

“Human,” he says, marveling at my hand. At the heat of it. His gaze lingers on my body. “I haven’t had a human in a while.”

I don’t know whether to retch or reach for my sword.

Remember your purpose, I tell myself. I’m supposed to find out what he wants.

“Perhaps we can remedy that,” I say, trying for my most flirtatious smile. I think he’ll see right through me. That he’ll read the distance I’m keeping between us more than my words, but he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. He pulls me close to him, and I swallow.

“Perhaps we can,” he says. “You’re on the Questral. You’re silver. You might survive the change to immortal, should you drink the cup.” His eyes drop to my chest. “I’d like to have you before and after … See the difference.”

Oh my gods I want to vomit, but instead I say, “Help me reach the end, then.”

His eyes glimmer. “You want an invitation to my estate, human?” He laughs. His eyes slide down my body again. “Perhaps I’m inclined to give it to you.”

That’s when I realize that he doesn’t fear me … He just wants me. He doesn’t think I’m truly capable of causing any damage … My access to his house doesn’t bother him.

Good.

“Find me at the end of the night,” he whispers into my ear, his pale hand stroking down my dress. My skin crawls.

Then I’m spun away, into another grip.

The heir to a great mine—but not a Great House. He’s polite enough, but his steps aren’t smooth, and I find myself almost losing the rhythm of the dance. When he spins me, I look around, searching for my targets.

I find one across the way. House Harlow. His crest is recognizable—covered in stars. I turn back to the immortal, smiling, slowly leading us in the other heir’s direction. By the time the song ends, I spin, shamelessly cutting another woman off, landing in my target’s arms with a gasp, as if I really didn’t mean to.

If he sees through my strategy, he doesn’t show it. His smile is warm.

Unlike the other two, this immortal holds me with the gentlest touch. He’s tall and handsome. His skin is light brown. His eyes are kind.

The facts about him and his house flitter through my head. Only child. He inherited his sword. His house is protected by a goddess, given a temple built on its grounds.

“You are very beautiful,” he says, his eyes on my face instead of my body. I smile, genuinely.

“I’m very human,” I say, because my looks don’t compare to any of the immortals around me.

“Yet, here you are. With these markings … with this sword.” He gazes at my shoulder, and the blade behind it, before finding my eyes again. “I’m Magnus. What is your name?”

He’s the first to ask it of me. “Aris,” I say.

At that, his eyes light up. “An ancient name. A strong one.”

“Is it?”