The High Lord (Legends of Trianon: Starla Book 2)

by J. A. Comley

  “Don't let my husband hear you giving him so much credit. It'll all go to his head,” Shaneulia laughed coming over to join them. “No, he didn't discover the secret. One summer, we were hiding in the forests of what would become England. Because we were no longer ageing and no longer knew anyone living, we stayed hidden, living in seclusion, always moving, the elixir preventing us from having any children.” Her voice held the strain that lifestyle had caused. “One night, while we were charting the stars in a nearby field, we saw a falling star, but instead of crossing the sky and fading, it's light grew brighter and brighter, and it changed direction, landing at the far end of the field.”

  Starla almost dropped the plate of food she was holding. Could it be possible that they had a Star too?

  Shaneulia continued, not noticing Starla's reaction as she had glanced over at her daughter leaving them without a word, moving to sit apart from all the others.

  Not for the first time, Starla wondered if she had somehow done something to upset the other woman. She turned her thoughts back to the conversation and Shaneulia continued.

  “Markis thought it must be a rock from the stars and insisted we hurry to investigate. When we got there, a woman with hair as bright as flames was standing in the fading light. She told us she was from Galatia, and a Soreiaphin, a Starborn. She had come to Earth on the orders of someone very powerful in her homeland to track down a lost relic. We offered her shelter with us while she searched, in vain it turned out. When she left a year later, she offered to take us with her. A gift, to thank us for our kindness and help.”

  “And we've never had cause to look back since,” Markis finished, kissing his wife lightly on the lips. “Of course, we visited Earth as often as we could before the war, to show the children, but even then Galatia had become our true home.”

  Shaneulia shook her head at him as he moved off again, intent on trying to engage Eltara in a game.

  “You said the elixir prevented you from having children,” Starla began, hoping she wasn't being rude.

  “The Makhi here have helped us find a way around that, though it took them many years to figure it out. It leaves me very weak, but it is worth it.”

  Starla nodded, popping a cake in her mouth. Was it possible that Galatia would really give her everything she wanted?

  She had watched Makhi heal the blind and deaf as she'd worked beside Eben. It made sense that there would be some way to fix her body too. Then she remembered Eben's words, that the people of Trianon and humans could not conceive together, even with magical intervention. She felt a pang of loss and had to remind herself that she hadn't really gained anything to lose in the first place.

  “Did any other humans ever come here? Or to Cosmaltia?”

  Shaneulia raised one arched eyebrow. “A couple of our eldest children found partners from Earth and brought them back, just once to say a proper goodbye, before they settled there. But total strangers? Not until you, I'm afraid. At least, as far as I am aware. Queen Astria may know more. Or the Head Clerk at the Royal Library. Why do you ask?”

  Starla nodded, disappointment still there even though she had expected the answer.

  “I have reason to believe my family was either here or on Cosmaltia just before the start of the war. I have checked the Makhi Library already, but there was no mention of anyone other than your family.”

  Lia's face became thoughtful as the men finished their game with much laughter and playful name-calling.

  “Ask Larkel. He can gain access to the Royal Library. I believe High Queen Zerina managed to save much of Cosmaltia’s knowledge. If a population record was among them, it will be stored there.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “Did you have a good day?” Larkel asked as they took a stroll by the lake. The park itself was fairly busy, but even from here, they could hear Markis' booming laugh as the man continued the party back at the cafe despite the setting sun. She had watched in amazement as both Eben and Larkel had taken turns sword fighting with the giant man. When she asked Larkel why he bothered, given his magical abilities, Eben had cut in, saying that he had needed it to release all the tension. Larkel had thrown his friend a loaded look but then chuckled, laughing and smiling more than she had ever seen in their time together.

  “At least as good as you, I'd wager. But then, I think you already knew that,” she smiled, prodding the bond.

  Larkel's wave of happiness stuttered, and he felt Starla steel herself. Shanuealia's face flashed to mind, mentioning Queen Astria, followed closely by an obscured memory, no doubt of the Guardians telling her to reach the Queen.

  “Larkel, would it be possible for you to help me see the Queen?”

  Larkel froze, though her question had not come as a surprise. The whole day had been wonderful. Starla and his old friends had got on as if they had known each other all their lives. She bit her lip now, and he could feel that she hadn't wanted to ruin the day, but also that her question was linked to a desire to protect the people she had grown very fond of. His friends were hers, and she didn't want them to get hurt. She wanted to help Trianon in this war if she could.

  He felt his heart tighten, his ability to keep denying the obvious nearly strained to breaking point.

  Sighing, he looked down at her, his eyes tightening, deciding to focus only on her actual question. “I can't, Starla. I'm sorry.”

  “Larkel, please. It is important I see her. You need to trust me,” she said, her eyes beseeching.

  He gave her a lopsided smile. “Despite your secrets, you know I trust you. But I really can't do what you ask.”

  He held up a hand, forestalling her protest, eyes cutting across the people milling past them. “Not here. Come with me.”

  Hand-in-hand, they walked down to the docks, where the High Lord rented out a small rowboat. Once they were alone in the middle of the lake, he put the oars to rest, and she felt a faint stirring of magic before he spoke. From his mind, she knew he had cast a spell to avoid anyone from being able to hear their conversation, through natural or magical means.

  “Starla, I can't take you to the Queen because she isn't here. She's missing.”

  “Missing?” Starla gasped, and he watched all her carefully planned counter-arguments vanishing.

  “We have kept it a secret. Only five people here know. Well, six, now, I guess,” he said, eyes intense. “Of course, there are many rumours going around.”

  “Why keep it a secret? Perhaps someone has seen her, or has information that could help.”

  “No, Starla, that would cause a massive panic. Astria is more than just the Queen of Galatia. She is a very powerful Inagium and a symbol of hope to the people. She fought for them after the Breaking, becoming part of a legend. The main belief among the people is that she is training, preparing to confront Kyron. They believe she, and the other heroes of Wailing Shadow, can defeat him.” He stopped, shaking his head.

  Starla began to reach out her hand, then stopped. His voice had taken on such a hopeless tone, the broken images in his mind full of darkness.

  “But she can't,” Larkel continued. “None of them can. They never could have defeated him. Over a month ago, she left in secret to go to the village of Timiol in the north. There was a rumour of a certain scroll there linked to research she was doing into Soreiaphin or, more specifically, their amulets.”

  Starla was grateful he was looking into the water. She hadn't quite been able to keep the recognition of the terms from showing but hoped she had kept her thoughts hidden well enough.

  He raised his eyes to hers, and for a brief moment, she was sure he knew. Knew her secret, her fear, everything. Then he sighed, his memories continuing to play as a backdrop to his thoughts. The Queen appeared as a glowing blue bird, her spirit self, Starla realised, recalling the Guardian's description of Inagium powers.

  “She didn't return after it fell.” His hands balled into fists. “I have taken over the research, but with all my other duties, I cannot leave as
she did. And so Galatia stands weaker against Kyron, and our King struggles to keep his mind free of the grief consuming his heart.” Larkel's voice was filled with bitterness as he began to row them back to shore. “We cannot take away their hope, Starla. It is the only thing these people have left.”

  As they reached the dock, Starla struggled to come up with some way to comfort him, to erase that terrible anger glittering in his eyes. Her worries and questions all became secondary to the deep pain the anger couldn't hide.

  Her words turned into a muffled scream as a scroll suddenly burst into existence in front of them. Sighing as if only vaguely annoyed by the strange occurrence, the High Lord snatched the scroll from the air and read quickly.

  “Are you alright to get Redkin to take you back to the Inn so you can pack? I have to go to the towers, but I should be back within the hour. If you are packed by then, we can leave for Markis' annexe,” he said, voice matter-of-fact, empty and cold, eyes glittering dangerously.

  Starla managed a nod as their bond was severed, his magic slicing through it. She bit her tongue against the urge to break past Gaby's spell, to tell him all about the Star and give him his hope for Galatia back. Her mind surged towards the spells guarding her memories, and she drew herself up short, shock stilling her heart. It seemed that, just as with the Baron’s spell, she might be able to break through the Guardians’ magic too.

  Does that mean I am a Soreiaphin?

  She watched Larkel stride away, wondering what to do. Without the queen, who else would the Sacrileons have trusted? She was sure she trusted him, and he had the research now, but she needed to be equally sure it wasn't only because she had fallen in love with him.

  ***

  Back at the inn, Starla made quick work of folding her clothes, adding them to the top of the two freshly-laundered night dresses already folded on the bed. With nothing to pack the garments into, Starla waited for the High Lord to arrive, letting her mind replay some of the funnier events from the party, trying to dispel the dark cloud that had been following her since the lake. It worked well enough, and she chuckled at the irony that they'd thrown her a welcome party on her birthday.

  “May I come in?”

  Starla spun away from the window where she had been watching two little blue birds hopping about in the garden below as she let her thoughts flow.

  “Of course,” she said, smiling as Larkel entered the room, looking at him from under her lashes and trying to see if the ice from earlier was still there. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, just normal Makhi Order issues.” But his face turned menacing, eyes lost in thought. “Here, I thought you might need this,” he added, handing her a bag big enough for her things. Some of the darkness cleared as he finally met her eyes.

  She laid the bag on the bed and took his hand in both of hers, feeling the heat rise slowly, tempered by her concern. “Are you all right?”

  His eyes traced her hands then slowly moved up to her face. He turned half-way to the door and murmured a spell against eavesdropping, his magic going where he ordered without a need for him to summon his staff; something she had learned required a lot more control than most people were willing to work towards or had the mental fortitude to attain in the first place.

  “There was another attempt to collapse my Shield,” he said, his face filled with dark triumph, “but it failed.”

  She held his gaze a moment but decided this inn wasn't the best place to push him. She could see his desire to be away from here without any need for a mental connection.

  “Thank you for the bag,” she said turning back to her clothes, then held back a laugh as he levitated them, packing everything quickly.

  His strong hands took the bag as soon as it filled, then he slipped one about her waist and kissed the top of her head.

  “Let's go.”

  As they entered the street, the High Lord reached out with his free hand for hers. With her heart beating erratically, she slid her hand into his waiting one. Hand-in-hand, they walked into the Imperial Circle and he led her past the opulent mansions, already beginning to glow faintly in the early evening light.

  A sweet-smelling aroma wafted out of the darkness as they neared a turn in the path. She inhaled deeply, only a small pang of longing marring the moment as she remembered the flower boxes she had helped Elise make some years ago.

  “Jasmine,” she smiled as he looked down at her.

  His mouth curved up on one side as they rounded the corner. “Shaneulia has never lost her soft spot for the plants of her home planet, no matter the millennia that have passed.”

  Starla nodded, knowing her love had been passed to both Eltara and Eben, their garden at the Makhi Healing Ward proof of their dedication.

  “Here we are.” He gestured at the grand mansion before them. Starla laughed beside him, delighted by the sculpted, familiar Earth creatures adorning his friends' home.

  My friends too, now.

  “Your annexe is just over there.” He pointed to a side path.

  Starla followed, waiting for the tell-tale glow of glass to appear. When, instead, they arrived before a log-built cottage, Starla ran her hand unconsciously along the rough, brown wood.

  “These trees, are they from Earth?”

  “Yes. Markis built this place himself. That was before his alchemy work caught the King's eye and he became a Duke. After Mukori’s attack on the Blue City in the North, it was lost to fire, but Markis rebuilt it exactly as before. This land used to be my family's. My father agreed to give it to them when they wanted to stay here in the south instead.” Larkel said, carefully lighting some lamps that Starla hadn't noticed before, the stones in his staff glowing faintly. “This is magic fire. It will go out at every sunrise and burn again at every sunset.” His staff vanished again as he lit the last lamp.

  Starla unlocked the door, took the bag from him, and dropped it just inside. Looking back outside, she held her breath as the stars appeared. They were all different from the ones she saw on Earth, but just as beautiful. Briefly, she wondered which direction Earth lay before she lowered her gaze once more.

  “Do you like it?” Larkel asked, seeming worried she wouldn't.

  “It is perfect,” Starla said, joining him in the glow of one of the magic lamps. “I wanted to thank you for today, I didn't think I'd be spending this birthday with any of my own people, but, thanks to you, I did.” Starla smiled.

  Her eyes followed the line of one of his scars, and then she smiled again and, going on her tiptoes, kissed him lightly on the cheek, breathing in his summer-rainfall scent and trying to hold back the urge for more.

  The High Lord seemed to fight for control, himself, as her kiss sent everything in his eyes into a wonderful sort of chaos. His hands twitched at his side as if straining not to hold her in his arms.

  “Today was your birthday?” he managed. “Why didn't you tell me? I could have—” He stopped at the look of amusement on her face.

  “The day couldn't have been better for me, Larkel.” she laughed. “I only wish yours hadn't been marred by the attack on the Shield.”

  He sighed, the dancing emotions in his eyes going out like snuffed candles.

  Starla cursed herself.

  He heaved a deep sigh. “I should have been expecting it. Three Makhi went down defending the Shield. Four civilians got caught up in the simultaneous Corruption attack.”

  Starla's eyes widened in horror. “I thought the attack was distant. Are they …?”

  Larkel consoled her with a smile, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Everyone is fine, or will be,” he said, before leaning back on the log wall to explain, “When we use our magic, it draws energy from our bodies. We need to be careful about how much power we use. The Makhi in question exhausted themselves. In other circumstances, they could have died or become ill, but others were there, too, and helped save them.”

  “So why do you look so—” Starla wasn't sure what the emotion was that haunted his eyes.


  “I had them actively fortifying the bonds between the Sacred Stones and my Shield without warning them about a potential attack. I shouldn't have endangered them like that, potential spies be damned.”

  Starla shuffled closer, taking his hand in hers, her finger playing along the back of it.

  “I've asked Redkin to select a small group to be told the truth and set on guard duty to keep the bonds safe.”

  “And until this group is formed?” She remembered too well the panic that had spread through the square the last time the Shield failed.

  “Redkin and I are handling it.”

  Ah, that explains the strain around his eyes, the slightly distracted look he gets every now and then.

  He dropped her hand and changed the subject. “You really should have told me it was your birthday. I should've bought you a present.”

  Starla let it drop. The war, Corruptions in the City, the threat of Kyron breaking through the Shield, these were all things she didn't want to mar the day. They were things she'd sworn this week would not touch.

  “Larkel, it was perfect. For once, I simply enjoyed my birthday without one thought as to why certain people weren't there or if others would come to ruin my day out of spite.

  She moved away, sitting down on the soft grass then lying back to look at the stars. She had shown him enough of Davan and Orla’s antics for him to know well enough who she meant.

  Silently he joined her, propping himself up on one elbow beside her, a hopeful thought blossoming in his indigo eyes.

  “Starla, do you know how old you are?”

  He explained, sitting up and ticking points off on his fingers as she glanced at him, “You're named after a Cosmaltian bird, you seem to have magical abilities whose magical store I can't sense in you like I can in a Makhi or Inagium, and by your memories, I got the sense that you think your birth parents may be from here or had come here at some point.”

  Starla thought she knew where this was heading, remembering one of her first conversations with him when he'd explained that the people of Trianon all slow in their ageing around eighteen years of age. She sat up too, kneeling beside him, and made herself meet his eyes.