by H. L. Burke
Clindt rapped on the door before poking his head into the room. “Sorry for the wait. The star spirits are ... odd this brightening. I was trying to discern their frame of mind before I began the ceremony.”
Olyn shot to his feet. “Is the timing wrong? Should we delay the ceremony?”
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary.” Clindt shook his head. “They’re surprisingly active. The moment I sat to commune with them, the magic burst within me. They don’t speak, not as we mortals do, but they communicate, and what I’m reading from them is eagerness.” His face brightened. “Apparently my mother and your father were right, as painful as that is to admit. The Ever wants this ceremony to take place. I can feel it in the starshards. It’s palpable. There will be a heartbond this brightening.”
Kay’s stomach twisted. As much as he’d denied it, he realized he’d been secretly hoping the ceremony would fail.
They left the antechamber as a tight group. Magical energy immediately prickled Kay’s skin, making his hair stand on end. The wide room was mostly empty. Father and Aunt Friya stood at the foot of the dais leading up to the ceremonial starshard. At a nod from Clindt, Olyn ascended the stairs, his blue eyes glistening in the light rising from the man-sized crystal. Shoulders slumped, Kay took his place as far from his father as he could manage while still standing near Olyn for support.
Clindt hurried across the room to another small door—the bridal antechamber. He held open the door and out came Arynne, a look of trepidation on her usually determined face. No one seemed to be happy to be there. Even Father and Friya—who had orchestrated this mess—bore expressions of smug satisfaction more than joy.
Kay’s heart screamed for Arynne. He closed his eyes. He just needed to get through this. Once it was over, he could leave the Starspire and never look back.
ARYNNE DREW A DEEP breath as she stepped into the sparking energy of the ceremony room. She’d gotten a quick glance at the area as she’d hurried to her antechamber, but now she really took it in. The room was about the size of the throne room, large enough that an audience of a hundred easily could’ve stood within, though other than her and Olyn, only four people were in attendance. The whole room sloped down to a raised dais, a set of half-circle steps against the wall with a platform on top. At the top of the platform on a stand of silver metal sat the massive starshard, a single obelisk of cloudy white glowing with a warm, inner-light. It towered over Olyn, tingling with life and magic. Other than the crystal and its stand, every other surface in the room was made up of the slick, slate-gray stone so pervasive in the Frorian palace.
Drawing a deep breath, she swept her gaze over the room, briefly meeting Kay’s eyes only to have him shut them and angle away.
She couldn’t blame him. If he’d held her stare, it probably would’ve broken her resolve and sent her running from the room.
“Easy.” Clindt returned to her side with a smile she could only describe as fatherly. “This seems like a stepping off a cliff, but it’s more like taking a new road. Also—” he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “there’s a good chance it won’t even work, and this will therefore be only a practice ceremony.”
Her throat closed in on itself, but she somehow forced out words. “So if it doesn’t work, nothing happens?”
He rubbed his beard with the back of his hand. “Possibly, but more likely, the spirits will take a look at you and the prince before they make their choice. You might hear them debating whether or not to bestow the heartbond, but in their own tongue which is a language that is impossible for humans to learn. It’s hard to explain, but they speak in ideas, moods, emotions, not words.”
“I see.” She gave a slow nod. “And if it does work? I mean, the bond itself was explained to me, but not the process for accepting it.”
A slight smile flickered across Clindt’s face. “I can only tell you my own experience. My wife and I are a heartbond. It allowed me to soothe her pain with my mending magic when she was in labor with our daughters and it means I can sense her as I go about my work and am therefore never alone.” He drew her closer to Olyn. “Time does not exist in the realm of the star spirits, not as we experience it, at least. You may emerge from communing with them feeling as if it took hours when it was only moments here. If they decide to bond you, they’ll twine your magic together, and then—well, it’s hard to describe, but it’s beautiful.”
Arynne’s worry eased. She could use something beautiful in her life right about now.
“I didn’t realize you had a heartbond,” she said. “I’ve never met your wife, obviously.”
“I think you’d like her.” Clindt’s smile brightened. “At least, I can’t imagine anyone not liking her. She does tend to avoid coming to the palace so I’m not sure when you’ll meet. If you are willing, I can use the heartbond magic to show you her to you.”
Arynne swallowed. “You can do that?”
“Here.” He took her hand and closed his eyes. Warmth trickled into her through their connection, and as if she were remembering an experience she’d never had, she saw pictures in her head. A lovely dark-haired woman a little older than herself held a baby in her arms, gently cooing to her. Along with the image came a wave of devotion and peace, a familiar, homey feeling that made her feel safe and loved even though she knew what she was feeling belonged to Clindt and not herself.
“She’s lovely,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t mind having a connection like that in my life.”
“What’s taking so long?” Evyd snapped.
Clindt sighed but nodded. “We’re ready to begin.” Clindt bowed to Arynne then gestured towards the dais. Trying to focus on drawing calm, regular breaths and not looking as unwilling to be there as she felt, Arynne allowed him to lead her to stand on the opposite side of the starshard from Olyn, though far enough back that she could easily see him around it.
Clindt cleared his throat and faced the spectators. “It’s traditional at this point for words to be said about the couple, their reason for partaking in the heartbond, and the significance of the ceremony itself, but I wasn’t given much time to prepare, and without an audience—”
“Skip it.” King Evyd crossed his arms. “We’re here to save a nation, not engage in fripperies.”
Clindt winced. “If that is your desire.”
Arynne stuck her chin in the air, trying to maintain some pride even though she was obviously just a step in Evyd’s master plan to save his kingdom. What she wanted—or what Olyn wanted for that matter—was of no concern to the king, so long as his prophecy was fulfilled and his kingdom saved. Oh, how had she gotten herself into this position? She’d accepted the arrangement with the Frorians so she could have some control over her own life, and yet here she was, powerless in the face of King Evyd’s wishes. Of course, so were Olyn and Kay, and they hadn’t chosen to be here like she had. Her determination slipped, and her lower lip shook.
“Enough hesitation!” Evyd’s shout sent a shudder through her. “Let’s get on with it.”
Clindt’s jaw tensed, but he took Olyn’s hand and guided both of them to the crystal. It pulsed with a gentle energy that tingled against Arynne’s skin. A hum rose from it, soothing her.
“As one, touch the crystal. The contact will begin the communion with the spirits and initiate the ceremony.”
Arynne’s heart raced. She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t ready. How could she hide her feelings for Kay if the heartbond bound her to Olyn? He’d see everything. He’d know everything. Panic spiking, she jerked away from the crystal only to feel Olyn’s hand upon her arm.
She stared at him.
Olyn gave Arynne an encouraging smile. “We’ll get through this together, Arynne.”
She forced her breathing to quiet.
This is what I need to do. This will ensure the future of an entire kingdom. I can do this.
She could do this ... but she needed all the help she could get. Maybe even divine help.
Ever, I don’
t know if you’re really out there, but I have nothing left to fall back on but you. If you want this, so be it. If not, please, show me what to do.
There was no answer. She chanced one last look into crowd. Kay stood, focused on his feet, shoulders slumped. Pain shot through her, but they’d said their good-byes. She’d keep her promise and give his brother a chance.
“I’m ready.”
Moving as one, she and Olyn reached for the crystal.
Her fingers met with the shining surface. Magic surged through her, sending out ribbons of light that wrapped around both her and Olyn. Her breath left her. Olyn’s eyes widened.
The ribbons exploded into a thousand points of light, shimmering like the starshard itself. Each glint spoke with a twittering, laughing voice like a chorus of songbirds. Though she couldn’t see faces, a sense of many eyes watching her caused the skin on the back of her neck to prickle, and somehow she couldn’t move. The diminutive spirits sank into her skin like snowflakes melting on her sleeve. She gasped as their magic rushed through her, probing her, examining every bit of her. Their twittering grew more intense, higher pitched, thrilled. Even though she couldn’t understand their words she could feel their excitement and also their confidence. They were sure of her. She was right. They’d been waiting for her, and now she was there. Panic and relief grew equally within her.
Olyn’s complexion went gray as the sparks circled him. A feeling of displeasure radiated through the magic, of incompleteness. Arynne’s head spun. No, in spite of her original hope, something was wrong.
The spirits burst from Olyn, sending him reeling. He sank to his knees with a groan. The ribbons of light reformed and rushed down the dais into the audience.
They collided into Kay in a shower of sparks. He jerked away, then froze. Warmth charged through Arynne as their eyes met. The star spirits circled him, drawing him forward, up the steps of the dais until he stood between her and the weakened Olyn. He didn’t resist. A shriek of victory rose from the spirits and a wave of light rushed from Kay to Arynne. It collided against her bringing with it a surge of emotions: of fear, of confusion, of hope—emotions that, while familiar, were not hers, not in the slightest.
The light bounced off her and washed over Kay. He stiffened, and suddenly she understood.
They were his emotions, his fears.
A quiet pulsation rose through the sparkling bonds of light. Their hearts, beating as one, his warmth flowing into her like calming water, washing away her fears and heartache. His muscles went slack, and she could barely keep herself standing.
Kay, her heart called out to him. Kay, I love you.
Arynne ... His eyes opened again, pure blue and intense as the Solean sun. My Arynne.
She exhaled and felt her adoration for him escaping her. No one else in the room shifted an inch. Even Olyn now sat unmoving, his eyes staring blankly into space, his chest not rising and falling with breath. No, this moment was apart from time, there for her and Kay and no one else. She reached for him, but even as she did so, the star spirits gave one last frantic peel of laughter and whisked into the starshard like leaves driven before the wind.
Like a bowstring pulled taut then suddenly released, time began to move again with dizzying speed. Arynne staggered forward and collapsed against Kay’s chest. His arms surrounded her, strong and sheltering, and he gasped for air.
Olyn stumbled to his feet.
Clindt gaped at them. “That wasn’t what was suppose to happen.”
Arynne raised her face to Kay. Even with the star spirits’ departure, she could feel his soul connected with hers. His heart beat frantically in time with her own. The warmth of so much love, a steady, desperate adoration, poured from him like blood from a wound, seeping into her—and her soul bled for him as well.
“I love you,” the words escaped her in a barely audible breath. Eyes squeezed shut as if in pain, Kay gave a brief nod.
“What have you done?” A burst of light slammed into them, knocking Kay forward on top of her.
Clindt managed to grab her before she hit the floor, but Kay crashed into the starshard with a yelp of pain. Smoke rose from his back where the magical attack had singed through his shirt, reddening the skin beneath.
“Kay!” Olyn and Arynne shrieked as one.
Kay leaped to his feet and spun about, hands stretched before him, fingers glowing, ready to deflect a second attack.
Evyd stormed up the dais steps, his face livid. Arynne’s magic surged into her fingertips, prepared to defend Kay if his father struck again.
“What have you done?” Evyd repeated. His lips curled into a snarl, flashing eyes daring his son to say one wrong word.
“Nothing!” Kay protested. “I ... I didn’t ... I swear!”
“Easy, brother.” Friya’s voice, surprisingly calm, rose over the chaos. “After all, the boy couldn’t create the bond himself. Clindt, my son, do you have any idea where things went wrong?”
“Clindt, you fool!” Evyd rounded on the mender before he could answer. “How could you let this happen?”
“It wasn’t me, Uncle!” Clindt released Arynne and stepped around her. His mouth wrinkled in distress, but he stood tall. “The star spirits chose this.”
“Idiots! The prophecy ordained that she would bond to the Star Prince. This human error is not the Star Prince.” He jabbed an accusing finger at Kay. “What did you do, you cursed boy? All that time, alone with the princess on the journey from Solea, did you meddle with her? Is that why this happened? Couldn’t control your urges even when the girl was your brother’s bride and the fate of the kingdom depended on their union?”
“He did no such thing!” Heat rushed through Arynne, and it took all her willpower to contain the fire within her blood.
“No! I didn’t!” Kay shook his head desperately. “I don’t know why this happened.”
“All your talk about loving your brother, about your loyalty to him.” Evyd rounded on Kay, his fists clenched. “I knew it was lies. You’re a selfish, short-sighted nothing of a man, and now you’ve not only cost your brother his bride but probably the whole kingdom its safety.”
Fear and agony surged through the bond joining her to Kay, and Arynne’s heart shattered. He drew a staggered breath, wild eyes darting from Olyn to Arynne to his father and back again.
“I’m sorry. I’m so ... I’m sorry.” He choked.
It isn’t his fault.
Arynne’s chest collapsed into a sucking sinkhole of despair. The momentary joy of being bound to Kay, of feeling his heart and soul entwined with hers, gave way to the terror of what this meant. Without the heartbond to Olyn, the prophecy could not be fulfilled. Without the prophecy, there was nothing to stop Athan. If nothing could stop Athan, Frorheim was doomed.
But the blame should be hers, not Kay’s. She started to protest, “It’s not his—”
“I should’ve killed you the brightening you were born!” Evyd grabbed Kay by the beard and yanked his chin towards his chest. “You have never been anything but a disappointment and you will never be anything but a curse. At least now I have a reason to—”
“Kay, get out of here!” Olyn yelped. The prince dove forward, pushing his brother away from his father. Freed from Evyd’s grasp, Kay cast one more frantic stare around the room before disappearing in a flicker of magic. For a moment the bond between him and Arynne wavered, only to solidify a moment later, perhaps not as strong as when he’d stood before her, but still tangible and very real. She could feel his heartbreak as surely as her own.
“What are you thinking?” Evyd roared at Olyn. “How can you still protect him after everything he’s done?”
“We don’t know why this happened, and I won’t let you harm him on an assumption.” Olyn’s eyes flashed.
“It’s obvious what happened! Your brother seduced your bride out from under you and doomed our kingdom in the process.” Evyd waved his hands in the air like a madman, spitting and snarling. Olyn absorbed the barrage, face stony
.
“I’d like to hear what Arynne has to say in the matter first.” He concentrated on her.
Arynne tried to calm herself, tried to find words, but her hands shook.
“What does it matter what she has to say?” Evyd stomped his foot. “She’s as much a traitor as—”
His words trailed off as Olyn reached over and took Arynne’s hand. The room around them shimmered, and suddenly they were standing not in the ceremony room but in Arynne’s chambers, alone.
“Oh! You’re back.”
Well, not exactly alone.
Sigid stood up from where she’d been crouched before the fire, stirring the embers with a poker. “Do you two need me to give you some privacy, if you know what I mean?” She winked.
Arynne’s cheeks warmed. As if this waking-time hadn’t been enough of a disaster, now she’d have to explain everything that had gone wrong to Sigid.
“Actually, if you would fetch us some tea, I’d be grateful, Sigid.” Olyn released Arynne to face the maid.
Sigid arched an eyebrow. “Tea? Now?”
“I’ll explain later,” Arynne somehow found her voice. “Right now, tea would be nice.”
Eyebrows still precariously lifted above skeptical eyes, Sigid nodded and left the room.
Arynne sank onto the couch, her head in her hands. This didn’t make any sense. She’d given herself to her fate, fully entrusted herself to the Ever’s will, the will of the protector of Frorheim and the giver of the very prophecy her heartbond with Kay violated. How could this have happened? And now? Kay’s father had even more reason to want him dead, and she’d possibly ruined Kay’s relationship with his brother, the one person in his family who seemed to care for him. She couldn’t let Olyn think Kay had done this to him.
“This wasn’t Kay’s fault,” she said.