Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  How could I have been so wrong about someone?

  The next morning we begin. Lexan and I corner a girl he knows from the class below ours, one who has no obvious connections to any of us. He sends her careful images of sympathy for Stian, ideas of pushing food and water through the bars of his cell. Asphodel teaches generosity, even to those being punished.

  But she is afraid, fearing both Stian and the protectors who mill around his cell. So I try to send her some small courage – bravery to do the right thing. Lexan hands her water and bread laced with a powerful medicine Father constructed early this morning. Hopefully, it will combat whatever medicine Stian is being given already, helping him to find himself in the fog of drugs.

  Lexan and I watch from a dark corner as the girl pushes the food through the bars. Stian lies unmoving at the back of the roughly-carved cell, his back to the crowd.

  When we return that afternoon to try again, the bread is gone, but Stian rests in the same position. I don’t know if he’s eaten or not. We repeat our process, using a different girl.

  “I never thought I would be happy all these girls adore you,” I tease him, and it feels nice to smile again, however briefly.

  He grins in return. “Quite useful, aren’t they.”

  I continue to avoid classes, but resume training with Lexan and Brenn. I’m mindful of my own plan, which I haven’t shared with anyone.

  If Stian’s rescue succeeds, he must leave Asphodel immediately.

  If he leaves Asphodel, I must go with him. Mother said as much.

  Something in Brenn’s eyes tells me he suspects what I might do. After our session, he waves Lexan on, and asks me to wait.

  “I have something to give you.”

  He pulls a small envelope from his bag and hands it to me. I look at the outside, but don’t open it, suddenly wary of its contents.

  “Astrea, a long time ago, before you were even born, your mother gave me something. I think you should have it.”

  “My mother?”

  “We…we used to think we loved each other. This was before she even met Jasson, more than a year before her own Choosing Day.”

  “You!” I breathe, the pieces suddenly slotting together. How did I never see it? Mother telling me of a different man she loved, explaining how love must grow in a partnership, her girlish smiles and easy laughter whenever Brenn came to visit. Even Brenn’s constant loyalty to our family, including me.

  “Now, please understand. There was never any disrespect done to your father. Chanah and I had a different kind of bond. Spirit, maybe. If things had been different…but a Pisces and a Taurus – that could never happen in Asphodel. So we learned a different kind of love. A deep friendship.”

  I turn the packet over in my hands, tracing the outline of its contents with my finger.

  “Go ahead, open it.”

  It contains a small ring, one small enough to fit my mother’s fingers. It’s carved of wood, roughly, but a single chunk of aquamarine rests in its center. The stone for Pisces: Mother’s sign. I slide it onto my finger easily and feel its immediate comfort, like a part of her is now with me again. My eyes brim with tears I still need to shed.

  “Thank you, Brenn,” I say, looking back up at him in gratitude. His dark eyes are full of waiting tears, and I realize that he, too, has lost her forever.

  “I also have this…” he pulls a small white paper from his pocket, folded many times over and sealed with wax. “She gave this to me a few weeks ago, right after you started training with me.”

  He hands me the paper, and my hand shakes. I can’t open it now.

  “It’s okay, Trea. Keep it safe. Open it when you’re ready. Your mother was always so good at encouraging me. Maybe she left you some hope in that letter.”

  We sit together on the bench in the shadows for a long time, not speaking, me tracing the edge of the ring with my thumb, his hand resting heavily on my shoulder.

  “Astrea,” he says as we finally stand and walk toward the door. “Whatever you’re planning to do after Stian is rescued, I hope you’ll think of Lexan. Be selfish when you need to survive, but don’t let selfishness define you.”

  I’m too surprised to even ask what he means, and before I can recover he has slipped into the hallway.

  When I open the door of our chambers, Father is at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. I enter uncertainly, not sure if he wants me to speak or if he is again lost and alone in his grief.

  “Brenn has told me what he suspects, Astrea.”

  I sit cautiously at the table, hoping I’m not right about what Brenn suspects.

  “He tells me you plan to go with this Stian if he is freed. That you will travel with him, to the outside world.”

  I wait, still no idea how to respond. My silence is all the affirmation Father needs. He raises his head and looks at me intensely, his eyes dry and fierce.

  “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

  My eyes fill with tears and I cover his hands with mine. How can I tell him that I believe it’s what Mother wanted? That she believed I have to go? That I believe it, too?

  “But I know you’ve made the right decision.”

  Shock courses through my body like electricity, and I stare blankly at Father.

  “Astrea, I realize Asphodel is not a safe place for you. But listen to me. Don’t run away just to avoid your problems. If you leave Asphodel, it should be only to find your own strength, so that you can return later and make everything right again.”

  His eyes bore into me, pushing aside any notions of selfish behavior.

  “You were born as part of a prophecy. That prophecy has not changed with the death of your mother, or the capture of this boy. Astrea, you are still the future First Leader of Asphodel – our city’s bright star of Justice! Never forget that!”

  He pushes his chair abruptly from the table and stalks out of the room. My mouth is still hanging open in amazement. My father told me to run away from home. But then he told me to return and defeat Keirna.

  Still, after everything, he expects too much of me.

  I think of Brenn, asking me to consider Lexan’s feelings. He also expects too much of me.

  Finally, I consider Lexan. He doesn’t expect, but he hopes. And that is worse, because it gives me the choice. A few short weeks ago, I thought not having choices was the most horrible thing in life.

  Now I realize I was wrong. Having to make a choice where each option will hurt someone else is much worse.

  TWENTY-ONE

  The Inner Pisces: You are born with the eye of prophecy, and your intuition is rarely wrong. However, you do not simply know things: you feel them intensely. Pisceans must always be careful not to be swallowed by the current of emotions that is channeled through their visions.

  From Understanding Your Horoscope

  Head Minister Charles, year 2073

  The next morning, Lexan and I again meet in the Common Area to repeat our feeding process. Father warned me that it may take several doses to overpower the drugs Stian was given, but I am frustrated. He still rests in the same position, his lifeless body heaped at the back of the small cell, facing away from the crowd. Although the food is gone each time we return, I somehow feel that he has eaten nothing.

  If Stian does not eat, the weakness from hunger and numbness from the drugs will render our rescue plan useless. We would have to carry him, taking much more time, bringing too much risk of discovery.

  I’m starting to feel a hollow panic.

  “I think you need to talk to him,” Lexan whispers as we watch the third girl push bread and water through the bars and hurry away.

  “But won’t that make Keirna suspicious?”

  “I’m sure she already knows,” Lexan says, looking at the floor. “I mean, it was probably Choosing Day when he was discovered.”

  I inhale sharply, guilt surging through me. Of course. Someone surely followed me to the cave that day, then after Lexan and I left, Keirna’s people must ha
ve dug their way into the room. It was all my fault Stian was captured.

  “Plus, I’m sure she questioned him.”

  My eyes widen. I haven’t thought about this possibility either.

  “Do you think he told her anything?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. He’s strong. But you never know what might break a person.”

  Dread settles heavy in my chest. Keirna could have told him anything. Lexan is right – I need to tell Stian that help is coming.

  The Common Area is mostly empty now, as nearly everyone has hurried to classes or their vocation. The small crowd calling insults at the caged murderer has dispersed, and now there is only one protector guarding Stian’s cell. He sits in a chair beneath the raised cells, head tilted back, eyes closed in boredom.

  Lexan eyes me, a small grin playing around his lips. “Let me try something.”

  He steps quickly toward the guard and asks him a question I can’t hear. The guard looks up into Lexan’s eyes. Suddenly he is fidgeting in his seat, and before I know it, he has hurried out of the room toward the Living Quarters. Lexan turns and beckons, grinning. I hurry over and Lexan shields my body from view as much as possible, watching the room in case anyone approaches. I stand on tiptoe, pulling my face closer to the raised bars.

  “Stian!” I whisper. He doesn’t move. “It’s Astrea! Can you hear me?” I wait an eternity, my heart thumping against my tunic, and then he begins to move. Grunting with effort, he rolls his body over to face me. But his eyes are blank, his face loose as though the muscles have let go of his features. The skin around his new implants is red with infection. Anger fills my heart and my chest feels like it’s on fire.

  “Stian, we’re going to help you. But you have to eat!”

  His eyes slide over to where the food lies, but he doesn’t move toward it. It’s as though his brain is not able to control his movements, or maybe his vision is foggy from the medicines. Father said Keirna has more types of medicine than we can imagine, so he tried to plan for several effects.

  “Please, Stian. You have to…”

  Lexan pulls me swiftly away into the shadows, just in time for the guard to hurry in the room and plop back down in the chair, his face smiling in relief.

  “I don’t think anyone saw us,” Lexan whispers, pulling me closer, away from the guard’s view.

  “What did you do to that guard?” I ask, still watching Stian. He hasn’t moved again, but his eyes are still fastened to the food.

  “Gave him a nice strong image…bathroom break!” Lexan laughs quietly. Only a boy would think of that.

  “Look!” I hiss, nodding to Stian. He has managed to pull a piece of bread to his mouth and is chewing slowly. I grin up at Lexan, triumphant.

  With Stian eating, our plan has a much better chance of succeeding.

  Lexan smiles in return, but he cuts his eyes away from mine quickly and hurries to class. I spend the morning in my room, contemplating what to pack if I manage to rescue Stian and find myself leaving everything I have ever known.

  Hours later, I admit to myself that it seems like the most ridiculous idea ever. All I have stacked on my bed are two sad little mounds of clothing and a pile of knives.

  Before we begin training, Brenn sends Lexan to the equipment room for supplies. Quickly, he hands me a rugged bag with padded straps that go over each shoulder.

  “If you pack carefully, this will hold everything you need,” he whispers. My eyes are wide as I accept the folded bag, stuffing it into my daily satchel.

  Brenn works us extra hard, allowing fewer breaks and asking us to reach deeper into our reserves of strength and willpower. This training is no longer just in case, and I welcome every challenge Brenn offers because it brings me a step closer to saving the ones I care for, starting with Stian. I notice Lexan doing the same. The only thing Brenn doesn’t ask us to do is fight again – he hasn’t mentioned that since last Friday, when Lexan finally hit me.

  Perhaps he realizes we need all the bonding we can get, without the strain of a fight. I think we all know what miracles have to happen for this to work.

  When it’s time to go home for the night, I turn to Brenn and ask quietly if he has another bag. My eyes slide over to where Lexan is waiting by the door for me, and Brenn smiles.

  “You won’t regret it, Trea.”

  I only nod, hoping he’s right.

  When I return to my room so exhausted I can barely see, my small pile of provisions has grown. I stare at the white box next to my undershirts, not understanding.

  “I know Mother gave you an herbalist,” Father says from my doorway, startling me. “But I thought you might need a head start.” He gestures toward the box.

  I open it. Inside are carefully labeled packets of prepared medicines and a larger compartment holding the small tools needed to create more. I stare sadly at Father, not knowing how to thank him for his foresight, for his care.

  He pushes into the room, gathering me into a clumsy hug. His breathing is ragged, and I feel his tears dampening my hair. I reach my arms around his large form and we stand like this for several minutes, comforting each other.

  I wonder when I became as strong as my father.

  I nearly cry in relief when Lexan and I enter the Common Area the next morning. Stian sits upright in his cell, resting against the back bars, calmly surveying the crowd gathered before him. The people are less vocal when he meets their eyes with his wild, steady gaze. Lexan wastes no time finding another delivery girl, and soon Stian is cramming food into his mouth.

  Today is Friday, which means we have only today and tomorrow before Stian is scheduled to die.

  Our plan is on track, but it’s been days since I’ve seen or heard anything from Keirna. Last time she disappeared, the shopkeeper died in this cell. My heart stutters, and I don’t think I can leave Stian alone today.

  Lexan heads away to class, but I stay, sitting in the shadows of the Common Area. I wish I could talk to Stian; tell him our plan; give him hope.

  The room gradually empties and soon I am the only one left, except for the guard and his prisoner. The guard sits with his head back, just like yesterday. He faces mostly away from me. Stian has been surveying the room curiously, but now that the people have gone, he's leaning back against the bars again.

  As I wait for him to notice me, I study the large portrait of First Leader Lakessa, which hangs directly above the trio of public cells. The painting is nearly twenty feet across, and flanked by smaller portraits of Firene and Keirna. I shudder at the thought of my face rendered at that size and hung above this place of punishment and humiliation. I glance to my side at the mosaic, the only other decoration in the room. Lakessa looks unnervingly like the three Fates. I wonder if the artists created the similarity on purpose. I wonder if she requested the resemblance, her ego relishing her sway over so many innocent souls.

  Growing impatient, I pull my hair free from its braid to let its color be more easily seen, and move to a closer table. I can tell the moment when he notices me, and his reaction is worth every bit of the risk.

  He presses his body to the bars, fingers curled around the cold metal. Even from twenty feet away, I feel a jolt as his eyes meet mine. We sit for many minutes, each soaking in the other's presence, until the guard shifts abruptly in his chair. I quickly pull my hair inside my jacket and lower my face.

  A tall form strides past me, casting a shadow over my table. It's too late to move or hide, and he stops in front of the table, disbelief spreading across his cold, handsome face.

  “Astrea, you have to be insane, sitting here admiring the prisoner in the middle of the day,” Aitan says to me in a low voice. Stian crouches tensely in his cell, watching.

  “I'm really not in the mood, Aitan.”

  “You should go home. For your own good.”

  “Since when do you care about my well-being?”

  Aitan gives me a long look. “You have no idea what you're talking about. Yes, I work for Keirna, and that me
ans I do some things for her. But that has nothing to do with how I care for my family.”

  I return his look sharply, puzzled by his words. I've certainly never trusted Aitan, but surely he does care for his family. Perhaps that extends to me, through Lexan?

  He breaks our glance and strides out of the room again, shaking his head. The guard has followed Aitan’s movement, and now he turns in my direction. I slip away before he can approach to ask where I'm supposed to be. I take a roundabout way back home, and soon find myself in my room, again trying to figure out how to arrange my entire seventeen years inside this tiny pack.

  I inspect Brenn’s bag, impressed with its efficiency. There are two big zippered compartments and several smaller pockets: some zippered, some just mesh. I begin to rifle through every drawer I have, piling possibilities on the bed, and soon I have too much. The reality of packing for a one-way trip is paralyzing.

  I enter Mother and Father's room, going through her drawers as well. I pack her swimming outfit. It covers much more skin than mine does, and the slick fabric repels water, keeping body heat close. I have a vague feeling that might be useful in my travels. But I also want a memento, and find one in her scarf drawer – her favorite silk with watery swirls of blue and green. As I tug it from the drawer, it catches on something and nearly rips. I pull the other scarves out carefully, looking for what’s holding the material.

  The corner is caught, disappearing somehow into the wood bottom of the drawer. As I tug it gently, a small square of the wood pulls loose, revealing a hidden compartment. A small plain box rests there. I pick it up, my heart beating furiously. Opening the box, I stumble backward, sitting abruptly on the bed. Inside are hundreds of tiny white pills. Just like the ones under my mattress.

  What was Mother doing with these?