The Rise of the Dawnstar

by Farah Oomerbhoy

  Aiden lowered his sword. “You can’t protect her forever, Tristan.” He turned on his heel and walked away with Brianna scurrying after him. He seemed to have forgotten she was there.

  “Forget him,” said Skye, putting her hand on my arm. “He thinks he’s better than everyone else. But he’s all bark and no bite, he would never hurt you and go against your grandmother’s wishes. He knows what she would do to him if he did.”

  I was about to say something about terrible upbringing and bad manners, but I remembered she was Aiden’s sister and I let it go.

  “I’ll see you later,” Tristan said to me, his eyes swirling with silver sparks. “Cade, make sure Aurora gets back to the palace safely.”

  “Aren’t you going to watch the rest of the performance?” I asked.

  “No,” said the Dark Prince as he stalked off into the shadows.

  We sat back down and watched the rest of the show, but I wasn’t paying attention as I thought about Tristan and how gentle he had been with me before Aiden came. The fae prince was an enigma, but he was a warrior without equal, and under that rough demeanour and permanent scowl he was a good person. Now that I had discovered his troubled past, I had started to understand him a little better. I was glad we were friends.

  I didn’t care what Aiden thought. The old me would have cried and pondered over why I was so disliked. But quite frankly it didn’t make a difference if Aiden liked me or not. It should have upset me much more, but it didn’t. I had finally realized not everyone could love you, or like you, for that matter. What was important was how much you loved yourself. I didn’t care if Aiden thought I wasn’t good enough, because I knew I was much more than that.

  That was the first night I walked up the long flight of steps to my room smiling as I recounted the evening. Aiden had tried to spoil it but he couldn’t take away the joy I felt being around friends and enjoying myself without the constant threat of Morgana looming. For one night I had felt like a normal teenager again, and I was grateful to Skye and Tristan for including me.

  17

  The House of Eos-Eirendil

  Winter was upon us, but the hidden valley of Iris remained at a moderate temperature, only cooling down at night when the wind blew from the ice-capped mountaintops. Tristan had been away for the past few days. He had told me there had been attacks in some of the outlying villages and he had to check it out with Aiden. During this time Cade was in charge of my training. He was not as hard a teacher as Tristan and, I managed to get quite a lot of free time to myself.

  I continued to search the library for any information about the Dawnstar, but there was still no mention of it in any of the books I came across. Maybe the dowager was right—maybe the Dawnstar was a myth, a legend that didn’t exist.

  I had nearly given up all hope of finding anything when one night after an easy sparring session with Cade, as I walked the deserted corridors of the vast library, a faint murmuring caught my attention. I went deeper into the labyrinth, down a flight of rough stone steps to a corridor of books I had not checked before. Most of the library was lit up with floating balls of fae-light, which seemed to follow me and shine appropriately every time I took out a book to check its contents.

  The murmuring got louder and, as I skimmed my fingers over the spines of rough bound volumes and massive tomes of fae politics, I could swear I heard someone whisper my name.

  “Aurora.”

  I whirled around, but the corridor was empty, one side continuing into darkness and the other leading back to where I came in.

  Another whisper: a little louder, a deep baritone. “Aurora, this way.”

  My hand went to my throat; I recognized the voice. It was the same deep voice that had helped me in the ruins when I fought Morgana. It was back.

  My heartbeat sped up as I slowly moved toward the voice, further and further into a part of the library where I had never been. The fae-light that hovered above me fell back as I rounded a dark corner.

  I called up my magic and a ball of light started to swirl in my hand. The corridor in front of me lit up, and I spotted a table placed along one wall with a few worn books on it. I walked toward it and ran my hands over the top one, clearing the dust that had collected, obscuring the title.

  These books had obviously been sitting here for a long time, unopened and unread. I checked the title on the first one: The Great Noble Houses of the Ancients.

  A book on the Ancient Fae!

  I thought Tristan said all the older texts were destroyed in the demon wars. I held my hand up, lighting the pages before me as I sat on the rickety wooden chair and started to read.

  This book was very informative, giving information about all the noble houses, their sigils, lands, and titles, who they married, which houses were the most powerful. Finally I came to the page listing the house of Eos-Eirendil. It was the longest ruling house during the Age of the Ancients. At the end of the page on the bottom right hand corner was an illustration of the symbol of the house of Eos-Eirendil: a twelve-pointed star surrounding a rising sun.

  A sun and a star! What did this symbol mean?

  I flipped to the last page, where there was a glossary of house symbols with their ancient meanings written in the common tongue. I ran my finger down the list. The house of Elfer-Sirundel, the house of Kiare-Edentren . . . I stopped at the house of Eos-Eirendil and began to read.

  “The house of Eos-Eirendil, known in the common tongue as the house of the Star of the Morning.” I smoothed the page and read it again.

  My heartbeat sped up as I pushed my chair back and stood up. The Star of the Morning! The Dawnstar! It had to be.

  The Dawnstar must somehow be connected to the House of Eos-Eirendil. Maybe the Dawnstar had something to do with Illaria Lightbringer. This had to mean something. It was definitely too important to ignore.

  I heard a shuffling at the far end of the corridor and my heart skipped a beat. Everything was so quiet, but within the eerie silence, I thought I heard a low growl. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, a chill scuttling down my spine. I didn’t wait to see what was moving out of the darkness; I turned and fled down the corridor.

  I sped up, but my senses were all over the place as fear rushed in. I tried to feel the magic around me, something, anything, but I could not connect to it, and I bumped into tables and slid around corners as I ran. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, because I ended up in a completely unfamiliar corridor, with three more branching out in front of me.

  I was lost, alone in the vast library. I turned to go back and froze.

  From within the darkness of the library, a pair of glowing red eyes blocked my path and a flash of white teeth caught my eye. I didn’t wait to see any more—I spun on my heel and fled down the nearest corridor.

  I calmed my racing heart and willed my lungs to breathe. I pulled off my amulet as I ran, calling up my magic and sharpening my senses as I sped up. I could hear the padding of footsteps behind me, occasionally clicking and scraping like claws grating on the stone floors.

  Further and further I ran, down into the labyrinth that stretched out under the palace. My eyes adjusted to the darkness as I pushed myself to my limit to get away from that thing. I chose a corridor and sprinted down it, turning again into another longer and darker one, trying to throw the monster off my scent. I could still hear the creature, an angry growl echoing through the lonely tunnels.

  I kept running, the muscles in my legs screaming to stop and my heart beating frantically, when I came to a crossroads. Which way? I couldn’t run deeper into the maze of tunnels. I would never find my way back.

  The scraping got louder; the creature was coming.

  “Take the first tunnel on the left,” said the deep voice in my head.

  I didn’t have time to argue and didn’t wait to turn and see if the creature had found me. I veered left, running as fast as I could, and emerged in what looked to be a massive cave under the mountain. I lit my hand, holding the ball of light up
in front of me, casting shadows against the walls.

  The domed ceiling curved overhead, and the walls were smooth as if they had once been a part of some fae-made structure. There was a door at the other side. I ran to it.

  It was massive and made entirely of stone, carvings of vines and creepers etched into the rock face, creating what looked like a door—but there was no way to open it. In the center of the stone door was a star with a sun within, the sigil of the House of Eos-Eirendil.

  The Star of the Morning! I gasped as I ran my hands over the symbol.

  The door would not budge.

  I stepped back. I was trapped, and there was no way out of this cave except the way I had come in, back to the creature that hunted me in the labyrinth. I turned just as it came into the cave, blocking my only way out.

  It was a monster straight out of a nightmare, with a long gnarled snout and gleaming fangs that shone white in the darkness. Its body was a twisted mass of limbs and muscle, covered in coarse dark hair the color of shadows. Deadly claws snicked out from its massive paws, which scraped on the stone floors as it moved forward. Its red demon eyes gleamed when it saw me.

  “Face the creature,” said the deep voice only I could hear, startling me into action and breaking the hold of the mind-numbing fear that had me in its grasp. “Show the werewraith what you can do.”

  “But I have no weapons,” I said hurriedly. I was not prepared for a fight when I came down to the library.

  “Your magic is the greatest weapon of them all, Aurora Shadowbreaker.”

  I willed my powers to surface as the werewraith snarled and pounced.

  Raising my arms, I called forth silver-fire that blasted out of my hands, slamming into the creature. The werewraith screeched, growled and fell back, embers of silver-fire singing the hair on its back, but the flames were doused by the shadows the creature emitted. It had the same sort of resilience as a gorgoth, a creature made of dark magic, and it didn’t stop coming for me.

  “You need concentrated power to defeat the werewraith,” said the voice, its tone still calm while I was panicking. “A sword of silver-fire should be able to cut though the creature’s defense.”

  “But I don’t have a sword,” I screamed in my mind.

  “Then create one,” said the voice with a touch of irritation. “You’re fae, aren’t you? Use your glamour.”

  I had no choice but to follow the instructions of the voice. My palms were sweating while the creature moved forward, warily this time, assessing me. It knew I could hurt it, and I could use that to my advantage.

  Glamour was easy after I had used it to decorate my room, and I willed a sword into existence, fashioned on the sword Rafe had given me. It flashed in my hand, and I pushed my silver-fire into it as I had done when I fought with Tristan against the Drakaar and their demons.

  My sword lit up, silver-fire coursing through my veins and creating a blade of pure power. I grinned at the werewraith, my insecurities disappearing with the appearance of my magic.

  My senses honed in on the creature as it pounced. But this time I was ready. I leapt out of the way at the moment it expected to clamp its teeth down on my flesh. I ducked and rolled, jumping up in a flash. I didn’t think, and this time I didn’t hesitate. Whirling around, faster than I ever thought I could, I brought my flaming sword down on its neck. The power of my magic sliced through flesh and bone, severing the dark creature’s head from its body.

  “That was very good,” said the voice as the flame in my sword flickered. “But you’d better get out of there. Werewraiths usually hunt in packs.”

  “How?” I whirled around. There was no way out of the cave except the way I had come. A low growl sounded in the distance as more werewraiths entered the tunnel leading to the cave where I was.

  “Create a portal,” said the voice.

  I didn’t want to waste any more time. I could hear the creatures—in a few seconds they would be in the cave. My heartbeat sped up again. There was no way I could fight more of them on my own. I had to go.

  I threw my magic out in front of me, picturing my room in the castle. My power swirled and grew, forming a portal as the first werewraith entered the cave.

  It growled, spotting me.

  I ran, pushing myself faster with all the energy I could muster, and flung myself through the portal.

  I landed on my knees. Spinning around immediately, I raised my hand. I saw a flash of red eyes and heard a muffled growl as the portal closed. The eyes disappeared and the darkness of the cave dissipated.

  I fell onto my back, my chest heaving from the exertion.

  I was safe.

  * * *

  I ran down the stairs to see the dowager. I had to tell someone what was down there in the library. It was late and I knocked on the door, hoping she was still awake.

  I was relieved to hear her voice. “Come in.”

  The dowager was seated near the fireplace, reading and sipping on a cup of her favorite rose tea. She raised her eyebrows when she saw me. “What happened to you?” She set her book down on the side table. “You look like you’ve been sweeping chimneys.”

  I told her what had happened with the werewraith, but I didn’t tell her about the voice or the door I had found.

  “The mountains surrounding this valley are ancient, and the library was built thousands of years ago.” The dowager got up from her chair. “No one knows how far down it goes, and in some places the catacombs run deeper into the mountain where the older texts are kept. There are places down there that have remained untouched for centuries, and there are areas in the walls where the wards could have become weak. It is possible some creatures can slip through from time to time.” She went to the door and spoke to someone outside.

  When she came back, she sat down beside me and held my hands. “Don’t worry, I have sent for Erik. The Elite will check out the catacombs. If there actually is a pack of werewraiths in the tunnels, they will take care of them. For now, try to get some sleep. Don’t go into the library until we have cleared it of any threats.”

  I nodded. I wasn’t going to go back there any time soon. Thinking about those red eyes and the flash of teeth sent shivers down my spine.

  I got up to leave.

  “Although I would like to know what you were doing so far down in the catacombs,” said the dowager. I froze. “But we can talk about that tomorrow.”

  I thanked her and hurried to my room. She had called a pair of palace guards to escort and guard me until Tristan got back. Not that they were of any help. I could probably knock them both out with my magic if I wanted to. They were not going to deter a werewraith, that was for sure.

  That night I barely got any sleep. I tossed and turned in my bed, picturing red eyes glinting through the darkness. I was running down unfamiliar corridors into a darkcavern within the mountain. I came to an ancient stone door. On it was the symbol of the Star of the Morning, a symbol of the House of Eos-Eirendil. I knew there was something behind it, something I needed. I pushed at the door with all my might but it wouldn’t budge. Behind me I could hear low growls—the werewraiths. I pushed at the door again, looking over my shoulder at the snarling teeth that moved through the shadows. I had to get through that door. I pushed and pushed, the creature growled and leapt . . .

  I woke up, sweat coating my brow. I had never been so scared in my life. At least with the Drakaar and Morgana I knew what I was facing. But this monstrous creature that hunted me through the library was more terrifying because I had no idea where it came from. It shouldn’t be here, under the castle. What else was down there under the mountain? There were so many questions whirling around in my head I couldn’t get back to sleep.

  The dowager said the Dawnstar didn’t exist. But I realized there was so much she wasn’t telling me. Maybe I was on the wrong path, looking directly for the Dawnstar when what I should have been looking for was more information on the house of Eos-Eirendil and Illaria Lightbringer instead.

  The sun
hadn’t risen, but I ran down to the training ground before the others woke up and practiced my moves until my muscles were sore. Tristan was back and I was more than warmed up when he came to find me. It was quite obvious he had already heard what had happened in the catacombs. Erik or the dowager must have told him.

  “Do you have a death wish?” he growled, side-stepping my blow, which should have hit him in the stomach. “What were you doing in the catacombs? Werewraiths have poison in their bite. You could have been killed.”

  “If you had let me train with silver-fire by now, I would have been better prepared.” I twirled my staff deftly in my hands.

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s because I didn’t think you were ready yet.”

  “There’s no more time, Tristan. If I don’t learn how to use all of my powers now, I will never be ready.”

  He nodded. “You’re right,” he said unexpectedly, walking over to the sword rack. “Now pick a sword.”

  “I have my own,” I said, and pulled out my sword from a glamoured scabbard on my back. Only a few powerful spirit-fae, like my grandmother or the dowager, could see through it. I knew all fae had the gift of glamour. But it was only the rare spirit-fae who possessed the powerful glamour used to conceal things from other fae. I was never going to be caught unarmed again.

  Tristan’s lips curved upward. “You’ve been using your glamour quite well.” He sounded impressed. “I must admit I didn’t see through it.”

  That was interesting. Tristan didn’t have spirit magic, but then not many of the High Fae did. Spirit-fae were as rare as the fire-fae. I grinned and looked at the sword Rafe had given me. It was a beauty, and I would be silly not to use it.

  “Let me see that sword.” Tristan took it from me almost reverently. “Where did you get it?” He turned it around in his hands, inspecting the blade.

  “Rafe gave it to me.”