Zetta swayed, falling back in a wash of relief. “I thought the Elyndra weren’t fast enough to catch you.”
“Me too. Either they’re getting quicker or they’re getting smarter.” Star couldn’t decide which was more frightening.
“And have you brought the letters from Ravencliff?”
“Yes, I have.” Star swished her cloak around her shoulder, revealing the swelled carrier’s bag.
“Good. I’ll take the bag to the first checkpoint and have the letters processed.”
At the time, Star didn’t think much of it when she relinquished the letter bag to Zetta. With the aftermath of the attack still fraying her nerves, she’d forgotten Fallon Leer’s letter to her superior.
Zetta put her palm on Star’s forehead. “You look peaked. Go to the Carriers Station and rest. I’ll get the letters back to you once they are processed. Chloe, over there, can take Windracer to the stables. In the meantime, I’ll fetch a healer to look you over.”
“Thank you, Zetta.” Maybe the old crone cared for her after all.
Chapter 6
Replacement
There was further upheaval waiting for Star once she reached the Carriers Station. As she entered the large domed hall, it seemed as if every duty guard stared at her. Zetta hovered at the edge of the grid, most likely processing the new set of letters. She probably hadn’t even dispatched the healer yet.
Star took a seat on the first available bench by the door, ignoring the apprehensive glances, and buried her head in her hands. With her eyes shut, she rubbed the temples of her forehead, trying to make sense of all the commotion and the raging emotions overwhelming her senses.
When she finally did look up, the guards still shot glances at her over their shoulders. Star weaved a hand through her translucent hair then smoothed her cloak, making sure it was tied straight. Did she look disheveled?
The atmosphere of the usually bustling room was tentative and hushed. People crept back and forth, silently performing their daily duties. No errant conversations were struck up and no easy laughs or wayward smiles were exchanged.
Star looked around, baffled. Had someone died during her absence? She was even more aggravated when no one made an effort to debrief her.
Journey-worn and weary, Star approached the head collector at the main desk. She recognized his curly hair, white as sea foam, from previous runs. He had always been kind to her and she knew she could trust him. “Hello, Darmond.”
The old man raised his head from his littered desk and nodded. “Miss Nightengale, it’s good to see you returned safely.” He returned to shuffling his papers.
“Thank you, Darmond.” At this point, Star had no patience for congenial matters. She bent over the desk, meeting him eye to eye, and spoke in a whisper. “Has something changed since I was gone?”
The papers froze. Darmond squinted. “What do you mean?”
Star bent even closer, her cloak brushing some of the letters piled on his desk. “Darmond, why is everyone staring at me?”
Darmond sighed heavily and looked around with suspicious eyes. Star could tell he tread a fine boundary between his job and the desire to help her.
“Darmond, please, I must know.”
“Zetta hasn’t told you?”
“No. We had other urgent matters to discuss.”
Darmond sniffed, rubbing his nose as if the conversation made him nervous. “It seems while you were away, you’ve been replaced.” His face crinkled in apology, the wrinkles crisscrossing around the corners of his eyes.
“Replaced? What do you mean?” Star’s voice gained force although she knew this type of uproar was the exact mania Darmond tried to avoid. Still, replaced was simply not a word Star was familiar with and certainly not what she expected.
Darmond winced. “There’s a new head of Interkingdom Carriers. The guards, they are waiting to see if you make a scene.”
“What?” Star whipped around, her cloak fluttering. The wall of letterboxes stood by the doorway where she had entered. They contained direct assignments from Zetta to the messengers. With all of the mayhem scrambling around in her mind, she’d strolled directly by it without checking. Star tramped across the room. She didn’t care who saw her or what the others thought. She just wanted to know the truth.
Sure enough, someone had stenciled another name on Star’s letterbox. Star smoothed her fingers along the newly carved wooden plaque. “Tia Rood?”
Whispers filled the air behind her. Star could feel multiple gazes searing her back.
A person with a strong voice called over her shoulder. “Excuse me, young lady. Can I help you with something?” It sounded more like a command than a question.
Star whirled around to see a large-boned woman towering over her. She had short graying hair and small blue eyes that could pierce steel. The woman tilted her pointed chin down to gaze upon Star with arrogant supremacy.
“My letterbox. It’s not here.”
“What’s your name?” The woman’s tone dripped with condescension.
“No, you don’t understand, it used to be—”
“What’s your name?” the woman asked again, relentless and unsympathetic.
“Star Nightengale.”
“I see.” Her eyes slanted. “Your box has changed. It’s down over there in the corner, bottom slot.”
The woman turned to leave, but Star summoned enough courage to keep her still. “Wait. The top spot is supposed to be my box. I am the head rider of the Interkingdom Carriers.” Star’s words came across as more aggressive than she’d intended. “And who are you?”
The woman’s eyebrows rose like she’d seen an annoying gnat fly before her and wanted to squish it. “Zetta has named a new head rider. That would be me, child. Tia Rood.” With that, the woman turned and marched away, leaving Star to gape in numbed astonishment.
Her immobility didn’t last long. Collecting the remnants of her pride, Star ignored the staring guards and burst through the doors of the Carriers Station. She would not give up so easily.
Star set off at a sprint, her thoughts spiraling around the name Tia Rood. Betrayal tore through her emotions; not only by Zetta but by the entire system she once believed was just. She had a thousand accusations, all bubbling, brewing and threatening to explode. It took all of her self-control to hold her composure together as she tried to form coherent arguments she knew Zetta had no validation against.
Zetta was exactly where Star thought she would be—hovering over the collectors as they screened the new shipment of letters. She looked up distractedly as Star approached. “You’re supposed to be resting, Star. I’ve just sent the healer.”
But Star was in no mood for orders. “Zetta,” she said, holding her voice within the confines of agreeable conversation, “who is Tia Rood and why is she named head rider?”
Everyone, including the head collector, looked up in sheer astonishment. Zetta stopped shuffling the letters and gestured for Star to meet her beyond the ears of the other workers. They walked away from the collectors toward the clang of the mist blowers. Star could barely contain her emotions as she waited for Zetta to answer her question.
“Dear Star, you know I must do what is in the best interest of the Interkingdom Carriers.” Zetta’s words were practiced and unemotional.
“But I’ve trained all my life. I’m the best rider you have.”
“Tia Rood comes from a background of great expertise. She’s worked at the castle for years now and understands what it is to be diplomatic.”
“With all due respect, diplomacy has nothing to do with riding—”
“Star, we need someone with years of experience in charge. Someone who can navigate sticky situations with grace and ease. Someone who will be respected by all.”
She knew she was less than smooth when dealing with patrons. Sometimes her desire for quality and efficiency put her at odds with other people’s wishes, and her curtness when asked abou
t the letters didn’t help. But she had always thought the decisions she made were fair.
Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. To Zetta, Tia was either some great letter goddess or an age-old friend. Star became more and more frustrated with every word from Zetta’s mouth. The barrier separating thought from speech dissolved, leaving Star with no filter to hold back her words. In a rash moment, she spoke her mind. “Zetta, that woman is way too big to ride. She’ll never make it to Ravencliff.” Guilt shot through her for saying it, but the comment had already been spoken and there was no way to take it back.
“Enough!” Zetta’s words silenced Star’s complaints for good. “You have overstepped your position here. If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it. Tia will finish your mission for today. Collect your empty letter bag and go home. I am assigning you a period of house arrest as you heal from the mental strain your being attacked has caused.”
Zetta’s command shocked Star out of her wits. She felt aggravated, cheated and, above all, embarrassed. Not only had she reacted unprofessionally, but she had fueled the fires of hate, making the situation even worse. Gathering her letter bag, she skulked away in silent resignation. Her one consolation was the fact she didn’t have to deliver that awful love letter to Princess Vespa.
Darmond stopped her before she crossed the threshold into town. “Wait! Stop, Miss Nightengale, immediately!”
Both Star and Zetta looked at him like he had lost his good reason, but the head collector stood confidently, a single letter in hand. “This letter requests Star Nightengale to deliver it with her own hands and no one else.”
“What?” Zetta ran over before Star could say a word, letter in hand to inspect it herself. Star wondered who would choose her as their single delivery messenger.
Zetta held the letter up to her eyes as if Darmond had misread it. She crinkled her nose in disgust and handed Star the sealed paper. “Fine, you may deliver this one. But afterward, go right on home and rest.” Her eyes grew watery with melancholy, but Star knew it was all a bunch of wonderful nonsense by now. “We care for your well being here at Evenspark’s Interkingdom Carriers.”
Star thought she’d won a small victory. At least one of her customers had the common sense to stand by her. As she took the letter in her own hands, she looked down to see who would exhibit such an ostentatious show of favoritism.
A surge of irrepressible heartsickness came over her as she beheld the revolting truth of the recipient of the letter. A hasty scribbled name mocked her sore emotions: Princess Vespa.
Chapter 7
Evenspark Castle
Unlike the slick ebony walls of Ravencliff, Castle Evenspark glittered like it was studded with millions of diamonds. Made entirely from granite embedded with mica, the glinting silver chips refracted the rays of the sun, casting multifaceted prisms in every direction. In the height of the afternoon, it sparkled beneath the grid.
But not for Star. Riding past the glimmering facade, Star was too immersed in her own thoughts to appreciate the splendor. She couldn’t imagine what cruel, twisted inclination made Valen request her as the specific liaison of his love letter to Princess Vespa. Was he blind to her feelings? Had she completely masked her blossoming infatuation? Or was he purposefully confirming whom he truly loved in an effort to push the cravings of her meager heart away?
At this point, Star reasoned, any more thought spent on her relationship to Valen was wasteful. Prince Valen loved Princess Vespa, and the world would be at peace. The two of them even possessed the same initials. One couldn’t argue predestined perfection.
“Wait here, Windracer, I’ll be right back.” Star dismounted, tying Windracer to a fence post and marched the remaining steps to the main antechamber as if she paced the final steps to her doom. She presented the letter to each guard and an attendant ushered her to the princess’s room without further delay. Even the guards, eager and willing to escort her, seemed to know whom the letter was from.
The highest tower held Princess Vespa’s room, overlooking the sprawling city of Evenspark in a grand balcony carved from granite and marble, flanked by giant stone dragons. The statues eternally launched into flight, their wings spread like they would come to life at any moment and flutter off with a breathless whim.
Star found the princess standing on her balcony, the wind whipping her auburn hair and satin shawl in one single rush of crimson and lace as she gazed upon her subjects, watching their lives from afar.
Vespa was everything Star was not. Star glimmered in ethereal moonlight and Vespa flaunted vibrant, earthy colors and had emerald eyes, rosy cheeks, cherry lips, and hair the deep hue of sunset. Her mother was the queen’s sister, linking her ever so closely to the ruling throne. Princess Vespa’s ancestors dated all the way back to Evenspark’s first rulers and her father was a nobleman from Ravencliff. The two strains of opposite genes blended in perfect union to create the most beautiful woman in all the land.
Vespa turned around and the room brightened, her eyes casting joy like a spell. “Finally, my long-awaited letter has arrived.”
Star bowed, presenting the document silently. Like a slaughtered opponent, she had absolutely nothing to say.
The princess took the parchment in her smooth, silken hands and tore the seal immediately. Star turned to leave, but Vespa said, “Messenger, you must stay. I will have a reply sent immediately.”
Star couldn’t bear to stand there while Valen’s delicate words were read. “I apologize, Your Highness, but I have other duties to attend to.”
Vespa’s arms dropped to her sides, the letter half opened. Her eyes suddenly burned like a forest set on fire. “What duty is greater than serving your beloved princess?”
Star paused, not knowing how to respond to such audacity. She stifled an inappropriate remark. “My apologies, Highness.”
Her words seemed to appease Vespa. The princess sat on her velvet chaise, raising her slippered feet onto an embroidered cushion. The letter drew back her attention. She unfolded the parchment with relish and her lips curved into a luxurious smile.
As the princess read, Star stood awkwardly in the foyer. Although her body ached from the journey and every muscle in her legs threatened to give out, she knew sitting was unacceptable unless invited. It didn’t look like Vespa was going to offer any kind of hospitality.
Instead of watching Vespa’s pretty face interpret the letter, Star looked around the princess’s room, her eyes falling on jeweled necklaces, silver mirrors and feathered hairpieces. She saw chiffon shawls and lace blouses, gold barrettes and strung pearls. The princess had it all, and Valen as well.
Then, all of a sudden, Vespa cried out as if an Elyndra had flown right onto her private balcony. The shrill, harsh utterance was hardly a word at all but more of a guttural reaction. Star looked back at her in shock. “What is the matter, Princess?”
Vespa clutched the letter so hard it wrinkled in her hands. She stared at the writing like the loopy circles spelled out a curse.
Star couldn’t help but ask in a hushed whisper, “What did he say?”
The princess’s squinty eyes simmered. Her voice grew low and threatening. “How dare you ask about my personal letters! Get out!”
Star had overstepped her boundaries as a message carrier. Zetta told her never to get invested in the lives of the recipients and now, because of Valen, she’d gotten involved in the highest sense. She stood before the raging princess like a dumb donkey, trying to make sense of her words or the intent of the letter.
“Get. Out.” The princess pronounced each syllable clearly as if Star was slow of hearing. She pulled on a braided cord and a bell rang, echoing into the hall. “If you don’t remove yourself, I’ll have someone remove you.”
Regaining her composure, Star bowed and left immediately. As she strode across the length of the room, two maidservants ran past her like scurrying mice, shouting, “What is it, Your Highness?” and “How can we help?”
Star fell back to the stone wall, stunned. Valen’s words came back to her with a newfound meaning. You make your own destiny.
“Did he say why?” one of the cowering maidservants asked, probably more out of curiosity than concern for Vespa’s wellbeing.
Star held her breath. If Valen mentioned anything concerning a messenger, the princess would have her thrown in the dungeon as a traitor. She would never deliver another letter again. Not that she had a decent job left anyway. Star pushed the thought away like an unpleasant memory. She would deal with that situation later. There was enough strife happening right now. She clenched her sweaty palms and prayed.
“No,” Vespa replied. “He gave no reason whatsoever. He says that it’s for the best.”
The second maidservant’s meager voice came next and Star had to strain her neck and lean back to hear. “But how can something dreadful like this be for the best?”
Vespa sighed. “I have no idea.” Then her voice grew steely and resolute. “One thing is for sure. He’s going to pay.”
Star descended the spiral steps, leaving the princess to be consoled by her maidservants. Although her footsteps were slow and methodical, her mind cranked like a thousand miniature wheels all turning in different directions at the same time.
But one thought kept surfacing amidst the chaos—Valen’s mysterious behavior may not have anything to do with her. He might have canceled the betrothal for a number of reasons, the least of them being some inconsequential letter carrier. The thought disappointed Star, but at the same time freed her from any guilt that somehow she stood in the way of kingdom politics, placing the entire realm in jeopardy.
As she walked back to Windracer, Star reflected on her tumultuous day, trying to piece together the fragments of stinging memories and make sense out of the chaos. Not only did she start the day by leaving Valen in a rash fit of anger, but she was attacked by a mythological flying beast, expelled from the job she’d pursued her entire life, and then was forced to deliver the one letter she would rather have burned. If the engagement hadn’t been broken, then it would probably be the worst day of her entire life.
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