The Starless Girl

by Liz Delton

  “I agree,” said Ichiro. “But this is reckless, bringing all of the Camellia Six to Heliodor. And what will Camellia do without its Grey Knights when you’re defeated?”

  “What indeed,” muttered Jovan over the crunch of his boots on the path. Ichiro followed him at a distance, back to the temple. Kira watched them until they had disappeared through the gate leading down the stairs and the garden was empty again.

  Or nearly empty.

  “A predicament, to be sure.”

  Kira nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped around to see Gekkō, sitting on the bench where she had first met him.

  At night, she could see that he didn’t radiate with dim Light as regular people did but with a faint purple glow. Interesting, Kira thought. Must be a spirit thing.

  He patted the bench, inviting her to sit down.

  Her heart still racing, she stood firm where she was.

  “Light and Shadow are in great danger,” he intoned. “As I tried to tell you when we first met. Why haven’t you done what was asked of you, Kira?”

  Kira opened her mouth to defend herself but then stopped. “Why? Why?” she repeated, suddenly furious. “Why me? Why do I have to do anything? I was the one who was brought here against my will, chased by that beast—who probably killed my mother, by the way—so why do I have to do anything? I don’t even know if I’m from my own realm or not!” she raged.

  Gekkō cocked his head. “Oh? Is that the problem?” he asked, as if she had just told him she didn’t like the weather today. He patted the bench beside him again.

  Dumbfounded, Kira went over and sat down, her eyebrows creased together. “Yes.”

  Gekkō shifted, lifting a sandaled foot to rest on his knee. “You want to know why you’re here in Camellia, whether you’re truly from this realm or the one they call Starless?”

  She nodded, swallowing past a lump in her throat as big as an apple.

  “Well, I’m not telling you.”

  Kira gawked at him.

  “Not until you complete your task.”

  “So you know?” she exclaimed.

  He merely nodded.

  She stared at Gekkō, mouth agape. The fact that he was the spirit of the mountain was the only thing keeping her from shouting at him some more, demanding to know the truth.

  How could she possibly fulfill her bargain with Gekkō? Sure, she figured she could eventually pin down Ichiro and Nari and demand their attention. But the Storm King…

  The Storm King was about to be confronted by Sir Jovan and the rest of the Grey Knights. Could she get to him first?

  Did she want to?

  Gekkō gazed up at her, a knowing look in his eye.

  ***

  The next day, Kira spent her early morning library time researching maps of Camellia instead of searching for clues about the Realm and her family. She was alone again, but she had woken much earlier than usual and gone to check on Jun before crossing the courtyard and descending into the library. He was asleep, it being so early, but looked content in his dreams.

  She was glad he was asleep, she reflected, carefully folding back another section of the map she was studying. She wasn’t sure if he would try to stop her or would want to go along with her. Neither of which she wanted. She couldn’t risk Jun being injured again. She copied another line onto her own piece of paper, carefully drawing another portion of the Kaidō Road, which she and Anzu had followed to get to Gekkō-ji in the first place. The road wound all across Camellia, linking most major cities.

  Sir Jovan had said they would confront the Storm King in Heliodor. Kira realized she would finally get to see the place she had been pretending was her home.

  She knew it was dangerous. Stupid. But what was she doing here in Camellia? She had stayed at the temple so she could learn enough Light magic to defend herself against the dark-creatures, which indeed seemed to be following her. After the dragon in the courtyard, she doubted she would ever know enough to defeat one by herself. Sir Jovan, Ichiro, and a contingent of knights had barely contained the creature.

  But Gekkō knew. Knew where she truly belonged.

  And if he was right, if Light and Shadow could become balanced again, the problem with the dark-creatures would stop. The full moon, only two days away, filled her with dread. Where would the next creature strike?

  Kira went about the rest of the day in a subdued haze. The Masters all seemed to know about what happened to Jun, and even Master Tenchi didn’t especially antagonize her. Combat class turned out to be rather peaceful for once, the repetitions of fighting somehow soothing. Word had spread among the pages too, and they left her alone, talking to her in low voices if they had to at all.

  But it wasn’t worry that had her eyes lost deep in thought, her mouth turned down in a frown. It was concentration on what she was going to do.

  The first part of her plan, which should have been easy, continued to trouble her. There was still no sign of Ichiro. Anzu again held court over the pages and their studies in her Light lesson before dinner.

  The knight noticed Kira right away, locking eyes with her as Kira crested the stairs into the open-air room. Anzu smiled, and though the corners of her lips were raised in welcome, her eyes remained neutral and maybe a bit sad. Kira bit her lip and found her usual seat by the railing. A small brazier crackled merrily with flames beside her table, and Kira warmed her hands by it before cracking open her book.

  Since beginning page lessons, Kira had only ever worked with Jun—the two of them bouncing Light theories off each other and goading each other into summoning more complex objects. In their last lesson together, Jun had summoned a dagger, though it wasn’t very sharp, and Kira had been determined to outperform him. But she had lost her motivation.

  Sighing, she got to work, the conversations around her an easy lull in which she brought her attention to focus. Not wanting to attract Anzu’s notice, she didn’t spend too long searching in her Light Lexicon for some inspiration.

  Before she could get started, however, someone sank down onto the floor cushion in front of her. It was Anzu.

  Kira held her fingers on the page for a slingshot, eyeing them to avoid looking directly at Anzu too long. When the knight didn’t say anything, Kira closed the book with a soft thump.

  Anzu looked up from the table, as if she had been daydreaming. “How is everything? How’s Jun?” Her voice was kind, concerned, not at all like the last time when Kira was cut by every word.

  “Jun’s fine.” Kira fingered the cover of Light Lexicon, the one corner of the book that had already grown worn.

  “Kira, I’m sorry,” Anzu said bluntly. Kira’s eyes flicked up to Anzu then back down to the book. For some reason, she felt like she was going to cry. Anzu went on. “I’m so proud that you advanced to a page so early, but like I said, I don’t trust Zowan. Not one bit.”

  Kira wrinkled her brow. This didn’t sound like the apology it had begun as.

  “Why?” Kira wondered. “Master Starwind and Mistress Nari do, I do.”

  Anzu shifted on her seat, adjusting the daggers at her waist to a more comfortable position. “Do you know what that creature was that attacked the temple?”

  Kira bit her lip, thinking of what Thistle had told her. “Not really.”

  “That’s the sort of thing the Storm King can command. Shadows. Darkness. It’s not safe to put our trust in the Defector or any of the Storm King’s former allies.”

  The taste in Kira’s mouth went sour. “I thought we didn’t discriminate against people from the Shadow region?”

  Anzu reached across the table and grabbed Kira’s hands. Kira almost wanted to pull back, surprising herself.

  “Something’s going on,” the knight insisted. “Something bad. And I don’t like the Defector suddenly enlisting a new page and bringing her on quests every single week. What have you been doing with him all this time?”

  Kira sucked in a deep breath. She tried to hastily gather all her stories like bits of strin
g she needed to weave together.

  “Well, one time we went to an apple farm to survey damage done to a field,” she said pointedly. It was the truest thing she could tell her.

  Anzu narrowed her eyes at her. “You can tell me, Kira. Have you seen anything strange?”

  Kira shook her head. “It’s just quests. He took a liking to me when we rescued that girl is all. He’s all right,” she added, offhand. “Kind of bossy, but he’s helped show me a bit of hand to hand combat.”

  She didn’t feel guilty. She wasn’t lying. She just wanted Anzu to stop looking at her as if Kira were a cat with feathers sticking out of her mouth, all the while exclaiming that she had not seen any birds.

  Finally, Anzu gave up and said, “Well, show me what you’re working on,” with a forcibly cheery smile.

  Summoning a slingshot was harder than she thought. Without Jun there for competition, and only Anzu’s scrutinizing gaze, it didn’t go well. By the end of the lesson, she still couldn’t get the slingshot’s band to stretch. It was useless.

  Before she left for dinner, Kira confronted Anzu one more time.

  “Do you know where Master Starwind is?”

  Anzu looked up from where she crouched over the brazier beside her desk, having just closed the lid in order to starve the flames of oxygen.

  “No,” Anzu replied.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. What do you need him for?”

  “I just—I just want to talk to him about—” She cast about for something to say. “About Jun.”

  “I hear Mistress Tori has done a fine job healing him. What do you need to talk to Ichiro about?”

  “I just—yeah, I guess you’re right,” Kira admitted, gritting her teeth.

  At this rate, she would never get to speak with Ichiro or Nari. At this rate, she’d speak to the Storm King first! She bit off a bitter laugh as she trudged down the stairs to dinner, where she saw Nesma for the first time since breakfast.

  Her mentor had volunteered to help Mistress Tori with her recovering patients over her lunch break, something Kira admired but felt no desire to partake in herself. Kira was fascinated by the healing arts but not by the tedious tasks that went with them.

  Just as Kira sat down next to Nesma with her food, she spotted a brilliantly glowing fox sprinting across the courtyard. She lunged back to her feet. News.

  With hasty words, she handed Nesma her uneaten dinner and darted off after the fox. The Light messengers only reported to their master. Nari must be here.

  The brilliant clock face on the Moonstone drew her toward the building; the surrounding stones were nearly dark in comparison. She flew through the doorway but came to a skidding halt as she spotted two figures inside the entranceway.

  “He’s leaving,” Nari spat. Kira immediately recognized her in the dim candlelight of the entrance, aided by her Light magic. And beside her…

  “Ichiro!” Kira exclaimed.

  They both looked up, startled. Kira was awash in excitement. Finally, she could make them listen.

  “Not now, Kira,” Mistress Nari snapped.

  Kira closed her eyes briefly, swallowing her first tart reply. “I need to speak with both of you. It is extremely important to the Realm.” The words had sounded silly in her head, but as they rolled off her tongue, they came out urgent and full of import.

  Nari glared at Kira, but Ichiro gave her a slight bow.

  “I’m so sorry, Kira. But we have urgent matters ourselves. Can this wait?” he asked kindly.

  “I’m afraid it can’t,” Kira plowed on. “I’ve been trying to talk with you—with both of you. There’s something Gekkō wanted me to warn you about—”

  “The spirit of the mountain?” interjected Nari. “He spoke to you?”

  Kira didn’t respond, only gazed pleadingly at Ichiro. “The dark-creatures, they’re not Shadow, Gekkō said. It’s something to do with the rift between Light and Shadow, but I don’t know how. A balance needs to be restored, he said.”

  She wracked her brain, trying to remember if there was more to the message. Suddenly, she felt stupid, halting them in their tracks for a vague warning she couldn’t explain.

  Nari felt the same way. Without speaking, she strode off, stalking past Kira so fast Kira’s hair fluttered in the backdraft.

  “I’m sorry, Kira, but I must—” Ichiro gazed out the door. “We will talk later, I promise.” He hurried after Nari, his feet silent on the cobblestones as he raced into the courtyard.

  Stunned, Kira glanced around her at the empty entranceway, lit by its single lantern and the ever-glowing Light.

  “Well, maybe the Storm King will listen to me,” she told the empty room.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Little Shadow

  It was easy. Everyone at the temple was giving her space because of what happened to Jun, so no one noticed that evening as she snuck out of the dorm house with her small bag. It was no longer filled with books and those hated quills, but a set of clothes and some food she had gathered from the kitchen house after her failed conversation with Ichiro and Nari. Tucked in her belt sash, in its usual spot, the dagger Zowan had given her rubbed comfortably against her skin.

  But she didn’t want to leave without seeing Jun.

  For once, the nighttime garden spooked her. She wasn’t ready for another encounter with Gekkō. Thistle she could maybe handle, but the old man had a much more terrifying presence underneath it all. She cut across the garden lawns, avoiding the stony paths so she could run soundlessly on the moss.

  Candlelight blazed from the apothecary. The yellow light was like a beacon through the trees. Sometimes Kira forgot that Mistress Tori didn’t have Light magic and couldn’t see in the dark like everyone else at the temple. She slowed down as she reached the little path. She avoided looking over at the statue to Gekkō, trying not to imagine the spirit of the mountain suddenly appearing beside her.

  Kira didn’t bother trying to be stealthy—she had already visited Jun four times today; it wouldn’t look suspicious to Tori.

  Jun was awake.

  Kira bit her lip when she saw him sitting up in bed, spooning some soup into his mouth. There was only one other patient.

  “Sir Mori left a few hours ago,” Jun said by way of greeting, noticing Kira’s gaze. “Mistress Tori wanted to keep him for a few more days, but he insisted that he wanted to sleep in his own bed.”

  Kira tried to smile. She shifted her bag behind her, just now realizing she hadn’t meant to bring it inside with her.

  Eyes like a hawk, Jun saw the movement. “Where’re you going?”

  “With Zowan,” she blurted, and her stomach knotted. Another lie. “An urgent quest—you remember the apple field I told you about?”

  Jun nodded, eyeing her over another spoonful of soup.

  “He found something—but we have to go right now.”

  “But what about lessons? You’ll definitely miss some.”

  “Says the page who’s missed two days of lessons because of a quest,” she joked, even though she felt sick to her stomach at lying to Jun. The one person she had been able to speak the truth to at the temple. But she could think of no other way.

  The dark-creatures—whether they were after her or not—wouldn’t go away on their own. Another attack would come with the full moon, if Thistle was right. And she couldn’t get out of her agreement with Gekkō, not after what Zowan had told her about bargains with spirits. Gekkō would tell her the truth at last. Could he find her a way back to the Starless Realm too?

  “I think I had a good excuse,” said Jun, putting down his empty bowl. “Injured in battle and all.”

  “Well, exploding bridge and battle aren’t quite the same thing, but I guess that’s an acceptable excuse.” She grinned at him. “I just wanted to check on you before I left.”

  Her stomach muscles seized. If Gekkō could find her a way back, would she even return to the temple? Would she see Jun again?

  Her smi
le felt like a mask, plastered over her lying features.

  “Watch out for exploding bridges, then,” Jun said, laying back down. He still looked tired, still exhausted by the trauma, Mistress Tori would say.

  “I will.”

  ***

  The night-bathed temple was like a black and white painting, made of whorls of light in a hundred different shades. Charcoal, silver, and ash. Hot tears slid from her eyes as she passed the dorm house. Jun, Nesma, Mistress Tori. If she went back to her own realm, she would never see them again.

  I don’t even know Gekkō could do it, Kira scathed at herself. What am I worrying about it now for?

  She stole across the courtyard as fast as she could without looking suspicious, sweeping by the cherry blossom tree. It was still an acceptable time to be roaming the temple grounds, she saw with a quick glance at the Moonstone’s clock, but just barely.

  She had forgotten about the extra guards, protecting the temple after the dragon’s attack.

  “The stables, at this hour?” the stout squire complained when she came to a halt in front of the gate that led out of the courtyard.

  “I forgot to—pick my knight’s horse’s hooves,” she invented wildly. Another lie. “Briar’s likely to pitch a fit in the morning, and just when Lord Zowan planned to go for a long ride.”

  At the mention of Lord Zowan, the squire seemed to lose an inch or two off his height as his stiff posture sank.

  “Oh, um, all right. Just hurry up then.”

  “Will do!”

  She hurried past him and toward the stable, her bag swinging against her hip.

  Meluca’s stall was on the left side, three down, right next to Hoshi’s mount, Risa. A small lantern blazed the way into the tack room where Kira headed to retrieve Meluca’s saddle. A mouse scurried out of the room at the end of the stables just as Kira approached, the tiny creature outlined in shades of glowing grey.