ShatterStar

by Krista Rose

“That damn Cedrani is kissing my sister,” I growled, trying to shake him loose. My hands were clenched into fists at my sides. “I’m going to stop him.”

  Tanner glanced over. “She seems to be enjoying it.”

  “That’s not the point!”

  “What was the point again?”

  I glared at him, my mouth opening and closing several times.

  “They’re distracted,” Tanner pointed out. “Everyone’s watching them, and no one’s paying attention to us. Now’s the perfect chance for us to slip away.”

  “But-” I looked helplessly at my sister. She was pressed against Aleydis in the shadows of the orchard, oblivious to the stares of the other Cedrani, who whispered to each other in excitement. My shoulders slumped in defeat. “Alright.”

  We left Reyce in the clearing as we slipped away. Aillel was wearing a lavender dress that matched her eyes, but she had had the foresight to smuggle dark cloaks into the orchard before the party. We donned them, and slipped like shadows in the night toward Cedralysone.

  The city was empty, its halls dark and unlighted as we made our way up the central staircase. It felt eerie and abandoned, like a centuries-old ruin, and I found myself tiptoeing as we ascended, gooseflesh breaking out on my arms.

  At last we turned down a dark hallway. Aillel paused to pull three glowballs from the pocket of her cloak, and handed one each to me and Tanner.

  “You think of everything, don’t you?” Tanner whispered, and Aillel grinned before leading us to the unguarded doors of the library. The door slid open with a whisper, and we walked inside, closing them again behind us.

  I held up my glowball, and stared around in dismay. There were millions of books, stacked on shelves that stretched high into the air above us and marched in neat rows into the far shadows of the room. How were we ever supposed to find what we were looking for in only a few hours?

  “Start looking.” Tanner prodded me with an elbow. “There has to be a map in here somewhere.”

  I swallowed, nodded, and started forward.

  Most of the books were written in unfamiliar languages, swirling curves and forked letters and confusing words I did not understand. I began to think this had been a fool’s errand: what if I found the right book, and passed it because I couldn’t read it?

  A faint humming sound began in my ears. I stopped to listen, my ears straining against the overwhelming silence. Tanner rounded the corner of the shelf and almost knocked me over. “Alyxen, what are you doing? We’re supposed to be-”

  “Do you hear that?” I whispered, interrupting him.

  “Hear what?”

  The humming rose in pitch, and I took a step toward it. “It sounds like singing.”

  “Singing?” He frowned. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Neither do I,” Aillel added, joining us. Her face looked strange in the light of the glowball, her eyes glowing violet.

  “I swear I can hear it.” I walked forward, following the sound. “It’s coming from this way.”

  They followed me into the far corners of the room. The shelves grew more crowded, pressing in around us. The smell of dust grew thick in the air as the singing grew louder, compelling me, pulling me toward its source.

  I turned down a narrow aisle, heading toward the far left shelf. The singing was loud enough to drown out the sound of my breathing, aching and lovely as it echoed in my ears. I reached up without knowing why, and pulled a thick tome off a shelf.

  The singing promptly stopped.

  I stared down at the book as the others clustered around me, raising our glowballs to look at it. It was plain, bound in leather with a foreign seal burned into the front of it: a series of circles, looping over each other in a complicated star pattern.

  “What is it?” Tanner asked.

  “I don’t know.” The book pulsed in my hand, thrumming like a slow heartbeat. I stared at it, fascinated. “It feels… alive.”

  Tanner snorted. “A book can’t be alive, Alyxen.”

  I glanced at Aillel, her expression puzzled as she looked at the symbol. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know this symbol.” She reached out hesitantly to touch it, then stopped herself. “It’s very powerful, though.”

  “It’s a book,” Tanner repeated. “There’s nothing mystical about it. Why don’t you open it, see if it has a map to help us find the Temple of the Burned?”

  The book jerked in my hands and opened itself, the pages turning rapidly in a nonexistent wind. Bright, iridescent light poured from within, surrounding me.

  Tanner’s eyes widened. “What the-”

  “Alyxen, drop it!” Aillel shouted, terrified. “Let go!”

  “I- I can’t!” My hand was frozen to the cover. “Help me!”

  Aillel and Tanner grabbed for the book; at the same moment, the book gave a final pulse, and we were all swallowed by the light.

  REYCE

  27 Davael 578A.F.

  Cedralysone

  The pain came for me again in dreams.

  It was a crushing, burning pain, as if my blood was boiling while heavy stones turned my bones to sand. It took everything from me: my thoughts, my name, even my other senses, leaving me alone in vivid, excruciating darkness.

  Something was pressed against my lips, something cold, sweet and merciful. It doused the flames, and left me in welcome oblivion.

  I don’t remember when I became aware of the mist. I thought it must have always been there, thick and grey and damp, muffling the sounds of my steps and my ragged breaths. I wandered in it for what seemed like hours, confused and lost.

  “He’s not ready.” The voice was female and familiar, and my heart leapt in my chest. It seemed to come from all around me; I hesitated, trying to find her in the grey. “He needs more time.”

  “There is no more time.” The second voice was male, deep and commanding, running along my skin like the rough scrape of stone. “He must pass the test now.”

  “It’s too soon.” Her voice was frustrated. “Perhaps I should cheat.”

  “Hush, girl. If the others hear you-”

  “Let them hear me. I don’t care. He’s mine.”

  “The Grand Design is not something you can play with!”

  “So you wouldn’t do it for your favorite?”

  “Ah, here He comes now.”

  “Coward.”

  “Quiet. I want to witness this.”

  A dark figure approached me out of the mist, draped in a long, flowing robe. As it drew closer, I saw that the robe was empty- there was no person inside it to fill out the form I saw.

  “Who- who are you?” My voice quavered in the stillness.

  The figure said nothing as it continued toward me, its cloak billowing despite the lack of breeze. The mist around us faded, resolving into a room I had never seen. It looked like a cave, with moss-covered floors and a small waterfall in one corner. Three Elves huddled in a small group, whispering to each other, bathed in the violet light of the large floating crystal at the center of the room.

  Beneath the crystal, garish and twisted in the light, was me.

  I swallowed, over and over, forcing myself to breathe around the panic. On the floor, my body did the same, gurgling and gasping as it writhed. Thick bandages were wrapped across my chest and over my collarbone, and black bruises stretched beneath my chin and across my face. My back was bowed off the floor, my eyes bulging.

  I was watching myself die.

  The figure stood beside me, silent and strange. I sensed that it was watching, though there were no eyes beneath its hood. It did not seem threatening, despite its unnerving appearance, and I found myself relaxing. My eyes grew heavy, my arms feeling like lead.

  On the floor, the other me choked for air.

  The figure started forward, the cloak billowing as it reached for the dying me. Somehow I knew that if it reached me, I would be gone, sucked into an oblivion I could never escape from.

  I took a deep breath to summon my will,
shedding my weariness, and tackled it.

  The robe fought me, invisible hands pulling at my face and hair. It was no longer innocent, but sinister, a terrifying shroud that wanted to swallow me up and leave me in darkness. We rolled over the floor in front of the crystal, the room wavering around us, stone and mist.

  It managed to throw me off, rising over me before moving toward the crystal once more. I scrambled to my feet, fighting through the clouds that tried once again to smother my thoughts.

  The figure was reaching toward the other me, unseen hands outstretched to welcome me to the lands of the dead. If it touched my body, I knew that I would die.

  The Elves continued to whisper to each other, oblivious.

  I took a deep breath, and charged.

  It turned before I slammed into it, so that I crushed it against the side of the giant floating crystal. It jerked, as if struck by lightning, and a long sigh filled my ears. One sleeve of the cloak reached up, and a cold, inhuman hand stroked my face.

  Then the cloak dissolved, shadow into mist, and was gone. The only trace of it left behind was a stain on the crystal, a smudge against the violet light.

  The body on the floor was pulling me, a huge force yanking on my bones, sucking me back in toward the pain-

  I woke in my room, alone and gasping. There was no violet crystal, no floating robe, no whispering Elves in the corners. My chest was unbandaged, the faint white scar on my collarbone the only reminder of Felice’s attack.

  I was alive, in the city of the Elves. The mist, and the figure within it, had been nothing more than a dream.

  I stared out the strange wall-less window of my room at the stars, picking out constellations as my heartbeat slowed. There was the Warrior and the Bear, forced to wrestle for eternity in the sparkling dark, punishment for ignoring the holy day of the Elder Gods. The Dragon of the East soared above the crescent moon, and the Vase of Yrisa was barely visible around the edge of the wall, pouring out the Water of Life into the silent sky.

  They were familiar, and reminded me of the Lady who had taught them to me, drawing them with her finger against the sky as she had told me their stories. The memory calmed me, leaving me smiling and no longer afraid.

  My eyes were closing as she stepped out of the shadows to stand beside my bed.

  Her presence was like sunrise, filling my room with sudden light. She was beautiful, as she always was, though the shadows bleached the color from her eyes and hair, and hid the freckles I knew spread across her nose. The vambraces she wore glittered like the stars.

  I sat up, no longer tired, my arms outstretched to embrace her, my mouth opening to make sounds neither of us understood.

  “It is alright, beloved.” She sat beside me, cupping my face in her hands. “It is alright now.”

  Tears blurred my eyes, and I wiped them away impatiently. “I missed you.” The words poured out of my mouth, and my eyes widened. “I can talk!”

  “For now.” Her smile was faint, and sad. “I cannot heal the full injury. It requires time still.”

  “But- I can understand you.” I clung to her hand, warm and calloused and still pressed to my cheek. “How? Where am I? Where’s Kryssa and Brannyn? What happened to me? What was-”

  She laughed, low and sweet, and laid a finger across my lips to silence me. “Be calm. I will answer what I can, but I do not have much time. There is still much to teach you tonight.”

  I nodded as she lifted the finger away. I took a deep breath. “What happened to me?”

  “You were bitten by a moret’ethla. A Vampyre.”

  “Felice.”

  She nodded. “The poison was very deep. Your sister Kylee brought the Cedrani to help you. He brought you here to Cedralysone, and placed you beneath the light of their Star, the Aurelion. But the poison was too deep when you arrived. The Atargatis they gave to cure you did not help.”

  “I was dying.” I remembered my body on the floor, contorting in agony. “That wasn’t a dream, then.”

  “No.”

  “And the- the robe? The thing that reached for me?”

  “Death”

  “Sirius?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Death itself. Sirius is the God of the Dead, the one who guides those who have passed toward Ca’erlyssa. Death was before him, before the worlds were created. Death came for you.”

  I shuddered. “Then why am I still here? Still in- what did you call it? Cedralysone?”

  “Because you were stronger than Him.”

  I gaped at her. “What? Is that- How is that even possible?”

  “I have told you before that you were different, Reyce Rose. How many times must I tell you before you believe me? Now, we must hurry. My time is almost up.”

  Dismay twisted my stomach into knots. “So soon? Why can’t you stay?”

  “Because I don’t make the rules.” She smiled at me, but I could see her eyes reflected the same frustration I felt. “Close your eyes.”

  I did as she asked, and felt her press her fingers, cool and calloused, against my face. My eyes pulsed, and golden starlight glittered behind my closed lids.

  Her soft lips brushed against my forehead. “When you learn how to use this gift, I will return,” she murmured, and lifted her hands away.

  I opened my eyes, but I was alone in my room. The Lady was gone.

  Grief welled up inside me, heavy and aching.

  Someone knocked on my door, and I swallowed my pain, holding onto her words to give me strength. I would see her again.

  I rose from my bed and opened the door.

  Lanya stood on the other side, still dressed in the gown she had worn to the party. Her eyes were bright, her smile wide and dazzled. Her hair had come undone, and spilled around her face like a golden waterfall of curls.

  I stared just above her head, frozen, as I suddenly realized what the Lady’s gift had been.

  A ghostly crown hung over her, identical to the one worn by the king of Cedralysone. Blood dripped from it, leaving spectral stains on the jewels on her gown.

  I had no idea what it meant, but the image frightened me, and I stared at my sister in dread, barely resisting the urge to scramble away from her as she chattered happily, her words meaningless. I wanted to warn her, to tell her about the shadow-crown, but all that emerged from my throat were choking noises; once again, my voice had abandoned me.

  She was oblivious, standing in my doorway long enough for the blood to drip onto her cheeks and hands, before at last waving to me and disappearing back into the hall toward her own room.

  I swallowed in the silence. What had I seen? Why had it filled me with such apprehension?

  And what did the Lady mean, when I learned how to use it?

  LANYA

  28 Davael 578A.F.

  Cedralysone

  “My lady! My lady, you must wake up!”

  Early morning sunlight blinded me as I struggled to open my eyes, groaning at the dull ache in my head. It had been late when I had returned to my room, dazzled from a night of dancing with Aleydis. His kisses had left me breathless, but, though I could sense the desire pulsing through him, he had bid me good night on the stairs, and let me return to my rooms alone to dream of him.

  Those dreams were certainly more tempting than being awake, and I started to sink back into the warmth of sleep. “Five more minutes.”

  “My lady!”

  I squinted up at Lyrel, her panicked tone finally filtering through my exhaustion. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “You must get dressed, my lady. Please, hurry!”

  “Why?” I yawned widely, and sat up, uncaring of my nudity as the sheet slipped to my waist. “What’s going on?”

  She bit her lip, glancing toward the door. “The guards are on their way here, my lady. Lord Rathis has called for your arrest.”

  “Arrest?” I frowned, certain I had misheard, and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “What do you mean, arrest? What’s happened?”

  “Lady Aillel has
disappeared, my lady. She was seen leaving the party with your brother and the man that travels with you. They are also missing. Lord Rathis believes it to be a conspiracy.”

  “Alyxen?” Suddenly alert, I reached my thoughts toward my brother, and found the same impenetrable darkness as when I tried to reach Kryssa.

  Wherever he was, he wasn’t in Cedralysone.

  The blood drained from my face. “He- he’s gone.”

  “I know, my lady.” She shot another frantic look at the door. “That is why we must get you dressed. Any moment-”

  A heavy fist pounded against the door.

  “Quick, my lady!” Lyrel pulled me to my feet, wrapping me in a thin Cedrani dressing gown. Her fingers flew as she tied the complicated knots that held the garment closed, protecting my modesty.

  The knock came again, more insistent, and I could hear the muffled sounds of an argument on the other side of the thick door.

  Lyrel was finishing the last complicated knot when I heard a heavy crash, and spun to see my door burst open, splintering wood and chips of stone across the floor. Armored Cedrani marched into my room, their faces bleak, and behind them was Lord Rathis.

  Lyrel sank into a low curtsy.

  Lord Rathis’ usual scowl had been replaced with a nasty sneer, his eyes burning with a triumphant light. “Donna Lanya, se d’ohl’embras ne Sotiris-Rava, Vi et darinonda.”

  I glared at him, careful to mask the fear that flooded me. “You know I do not speak Y’ken’ohl, Lord Rathis. Is this the courtesy of the Cedrani then, to burst into a lady’s rooms and accuse in a tongue she doesn’t understand?”

  My words were meant to sting, and I was rewarded when the smile fell off of his face to be replaced with a flush. The guards on either side of him turned their faces, but I thought I saw their lips twitch at his discomfort.

  “Prince Sotiris has ordered your arrest, Lady Lanya,” he repeated from between gritted teeth. His eyes stared daggers through me. “You are to accompany me to the Hall of Princes immediately to stand trial for your crimes.”

  “I have committed no crimes.” I tilted my chin. “But I shall accompany you to this trial, if you will grant me the time to at least get dressed. Unless you intend to deny me dignity as well as privacy?” I gestured toward my broken door.