Page 60 of Starside

A babbling river breaks me out of my thoughts. It sits below us, water whispering over worn stones in a sheet of rippling silk. The only streams I’ve seen on Stormside are mostly dried up. This one looks close to spilling onto land.

We stop along the slanted trees lining the river. A boat is tied to one of them. It’s small and made of expertly sculpted wood, with intricate designs running along its side.

Xara’s expression turns grave. “No matter what, find shelter before sundown. A village, if you can. You’ll be fine tonight, but for the rest of them …”

“Why?” I ask. “Why is night so dangerous here?”

Xara looks around, as if someone might be listening, just beyond the trees. She leans toward us and whispers, “The God of Death’s demons emerge from underground at night, killing everything in their paths.”

The God of Death. At the sound of his name, the shadows at our feet seem to lengthen. The birds stop chirping.

Still, Xara pushes on. “Even our best knights have been torn to shreds by teeth like swords.” She closes her eyes. Swallows. “It wasn’t always like this.”

“What happened?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Only the gods know. All I know is, one night, everything changed. Hundreds were lost. We woke up … and blood was smeared everywhere. We found … only pieces.” She cuts herself off. “The night kills even immortals. Do you understand?”

We nod.

“Good.” She leans down and whispers something to the boat. Directions, maybe. She drops the pack of food and canteens inside, then motions for us to board.

Zane does without issue. Then Kira. Then me. The wood shifts beneath my feet, sending me falling onto my ass. I sit up quickly, heart in my throat.

“My boat never flips,” Xara assures me. “It is no ordinary boat. You’ll be safe on the water.” She opens her mouth as if to say something else—then stops herself.

But there’s something I need to know.

“I thought immortals were better off than us,” I say, quickly. “And you are, of course … but the gods don’t serve you either. They’ve damned you too.”

It’s not really a question. But Xara nods.

“The gods only serve themselves,” she says. “Whatever legends you’ve heard about them, they’re worse. Do yourself a favor and never cross one.”

Then she unties the rope.

11

For a while, we just sit in the boat in silence.

Kira breaks it. She turns to me, offers me her sword, and says, “If I hold my hair up, will you chop it off?”

I gape at her. “You … don’t want it anymore?”

She sighs. “No, I do. My hair’s my favorite part of myself, really.” She spits out a lock that blows into her face from the breeze, her few braids now almost completely loose. “But it’s getting fucking annoying.”

Right. I don’t know how to do this, how to be friendly, how to be a friend … I’m out of practice.

But I remember how Kira wiped the blood from my face with her scarf, without question. “Here,” I say, hesitantly. “Before you choose to cut it, let me help you.” I lift my hands, motioning for her to turn around.

Kira brightens. “Really?”

Before I can nod, she’s settling in front of me, legs folded in front of her, sword across her lap.

Gently, I begin to undo the braids, before starting over. She tenses with even the slightest pull, so I take my time. We have plenty out here, in the middle of this river.

Zane just stares at us, reaching into the basket, taking out a flower-speckled muffin from Xara’s inn, and taking a bite.

“So,” Kira says, nodding toward him. “Why are you here?”