Page 27 of Starside

That voice. His voice. Hearing it again … suddenly, I’m thrust back two years ago to a rare day of rain.

Gray eyes, buried in a battle helmet, staring me down. His glimmering blade against my throat, and—

No. I won’t think of him, and what happened afterward.

I close my eyes tightly, pushing him from my thoughts, focusing only on following the path of silver up and down my throat. It lulls me into a calmness that leads to a few hours of sleep.

Until a flash of silver has me sitting up, gasping.

The room is still dark. Kira is still snoring. Another memory, from far before I ever encountered Harlan Raker. The day on the hill. The day my sister and I disobeyed my parents and went far past the village.

The day I got my markings.

I jolt when a knock rattles the door behind me, my veins aflame with panic. But it’s only the Watchman. “Outside in ten,” he yells, before moving on.

How is it already time? My eyes still burn with exhaustion.

My legs are sore from being folded beneath me. I wince as I struggle to get up, then slowly make my way to Kira.

I poke her shoulder. She just snores louder.

I tap at her arm, and she just turns to the side.

My sister was like this. A heavy sleeper. It would take ten minutes sometimes just to wake her up.

We don’t have that time.

“Kira,” I say loudly, and she startles awake. Her eyes widen with fear before seeing me. That fear dims.

It shouldn’t.

Today, we’re enemies. I won’t save her the way I did before. Not if she stands between me and being one of the first fifty through those gates.

“Is it time?” she asks, voice heavy with sleep.

“It is.”

She nods and gets up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She looks at me, using seconds we don’t have to spare, her green eyes filled with regret. “I really hope I don’t have to kill you,” she finally says.

And by the sudden hardness of her tone … I know.

I know she would kill anyone and anything to save her sister … the same way I would have. The same way I will in vengeance for her death.

“Me too,” I reply, meaning it as well.

Then we pack up our things and leave the room.

The king’s guards return our weapons one by one.

When they reach Raker, they each bow their heads, then motion toward the front of the castle. I hear whispers, and—

No one was able to move it. I can almost imagine his great sword still dug into the dirt, untouched.

Raker opens his hand, and there’s a sky-splitting crackling as the sword arcs over the castle in a flash of silver—before landing in his grip.

It leaves the rest of the challengers speechless.

Until, of course, Kira leans down to whisper, “I heard he’s terribly scarred under that mask. That’s why he doesn’t show his face.”