Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  When he comes for me later, I will be ready to learn.

  I will learn to see this darkness in myself, then learn to stamp it out with the power of my sun fire. I just have to keep playing his games, letting him win often enough that he shows me the tricks he keeps hidden up his pristine white sleeves.

  When the main dinner plate is served to each table, we sit again, but all I can taste is oranges, and when I blink all I can see is the darkness of everyone’s souls, twining around their fingers as they move the food to their mouths. Bits of the blackness lodge in their teeth as they smile falsely at one another.

  I want to screw my eyes shut against everything, but the darkness is still there. The souls seem to stretch out to me, to ask me for help.

  But how can I help a blackened soul? That’s not within my power.

  Hade clinks a knife against his glass and everyone quiets immediately. “We are again honored by the presence of Lady Justice.” He lifts a hand to me and a light smattering of applause begins. “But she is not here simply to socialize with you. Oh, no, she is here in my throne room tonight to make a Judgment!”

  The finely dressed men and women glance at each other, culpability strewn across their beautiful faces. Fear pricks the silence, deflating it like a balloon, and whispers begin from every corner.

  Hade waits a moment, then beckons to a guard. “Ready the prisoners, but wait for me,” he whispers so only I can hear him. So the Judgment is not on one of these wealthy members of Hade’s court after all. I feel a small bit of disappointment; I could have easily passed Judgment on any one of them.

  But of course, like everything with Hade, easy simply doesn’t exist.

  “Let’s hear the story, and see what Lady Justice has to say,” Hade begins. “I have two people in mind. Both have done good and bad in their lives, but recently they broke several of my laws.”

  The people at the tables shift uneasily and someone spills a glass. A servant rushes to wipe up the red liquid, and I hear angry words from the guest, as though it was the servant’s fault and not her own.

  “Their crimes are trespassing on my property, stealing those that rightly belong to me, and taking the life of three of my guards. What say you, Justice?”

  All eyes swivel to me, and my stomach bottoms out. I scan each of the round tables for Lexan, but I can barely see him, sandwiched between two obnoxiously gorgeous women.

  I close my eyes and try to think. This is a game. A riddle, like Keirna’s ethics tests. “What was stolen?” I ask, my memory honing in on Hade’s strange wording.

  “Servants and prostitutes,” he answers. I can hear the humor in his voice. He knows I caught him, and somehow he likes it.

  “And the guards whose lives were taken - were they trying to kill these criminals?” I open my eyes in time to see Hade nod and begin to grin.

  “So it was in self-defense. But they also broke your laws. Laws must be upheld, unless they are also unjust. Holding people as slaves is unjust, Lord Hadeon.”

  He inclines his head, as though conceding a point. “And what of the trespassing?”

  I’m not sure what to say about that. Surely that crime doesn’t warrant death in the arena. “Is there a term of imprisonment here that doesn’t end in the arena?”

  “Everything in Tartarus ends in the arena,” he answers, and the crowd laughs, the sound high and nervous.

  I squirm in my seat, feeling like I’m being backed into a corner. How can I win this? “Can I see the criminals? I should look at their souls.”

  A hush falls over the crowd at my admission of this sort of power. Then the whispering begins anew, and the tendrils of darkness grow around the people’s fear.

  The more they fear, the more they are willing to listen to the darkness.

  Hade allows them to talk for a long moment as he studies me. He leans in close to my ear. “That is exactly what you should do.”

  He clinks his knife again and everyone snaps their eyes to him - to me. “Yes, what you fear is indeed true. The Lady of Justice is not only Just in her thoughts and actions. She can see to your very soul, and she can Judge whether it is white with innocence or black with evil deeds!”

  A chair scrapes across the room and I see Lexan stand, pushing through the tables toward me. There is accusation leaking from the edges of his straight-line mouth. I flinch as I realize that he didn’t know. Of course, even I didn’t know until an hour ago. But he probably thinks I’ve been keeping secrets again. I lower my eyes, not wanting to meet his.

  Hade asks for a chair for Lexan, and seats him on the other side, away from me, but still close. I can’t bear to look directly at either of them, but when I close my eyes, even for a second, the souls are waiting - Hade’s is inky black and Lexan’s is the whitest of anyone at the table.

  “Have you looked at each of our guests here? Do you know which people you should be Judging tonight?” Hade prompts, as his guests go from shallow fear to a deep, drowning panic. Several move to get up, and I have to wonder at Hade’s strategy.

  He stands and holds both arms out as if embracing the atmosphere. “Everyone. Sit, please. The criminals - the ones I spoke of, at least - are not in this room. But don’t worry. Lady Justice will come for each of you one day. Guards! Bring in the prisoners.”

  I catch Lexan’s eyes and hold them, desperate for his support.

  Do what your heart tells you.

  This is his message, and it’s a good one. For someone whose heart knows what to say. Mine is torn between so many things - desire to please Hade so he will help us, need to serve true Justice, fear of doing so. But I know I can’t let the fear in, or I will let the darkness in. Bravery has never seemed so important.

  And then the doors swing open and any remaining shreds of my undecided heart twist around my neck, begging for mercy. Bravery has never seemed so elusive.

  Shackled and blindfolded, gagged and chaperoned by four guards with long swords, Stian and Zarea enter the throne room. There is an open gash on Stian’s forehead, likely from struggling with the guards.

  Hade slips behind me and grasps my shoulders. “These are the prisoners. Bring them closer!” I watch helplessly as they are led, stumbling, to the center of the room, barely ten feet from where I sit.

  Then, before I can stop him, Hade reaches around and ties a thick black leather mask to my face, cutting out all light. I scrabble with the material, but his fingers are too quick. He grasps my hands and pulls them down, wrapping them in his own.

  “Now,” he says, close in my ear. “Look carefully at their souls.”

  With the blindfold secure over my face, I can’t help myself - I look. There are so many at first that it takes me a minute to separate out the two figures I want from the others in the room.

  Stian’s soul is so much more gray than I hoped. So much more black than I expected. He has done more than he has told me, but the swirling mist of darkness has no names or deeds written in its depths.

  Zarea is unexpected, as usual. Her soul has both black and white, but there are other colors there as well. A bit of dark green, a muddy brown. I swivel my head, scanning the room. She is the only one with color.

  No, that’s not true.

  Sitting three feet from me is another person with a colorful soul. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the white in Lexan’s soul glimmers softly with a myriad of pale colors, as though the white has absorbed the essence of the world around him.

  Hade clears his throat. I snap my head back toward Stian and Zarea.

  I look for the Balance in what I need to do. “Both of them have blackness in their souls. But both have more white than black.” I think it’s better to leave out the whole color thing.

  “What is your Judgment?”

  I hear Stian trying to talk around his gag.

  “My Judgment…my Judgment is that they are not to die in the arena,” I say, finding what I hope is a Balance. “Their crimes are not suitable for death. The trespassing was wrong. But freeing the s
laves righted an unjust circumstance. The taking of life was also Just because it was in defense of life.”

  Hade breathes in deeply, letting the air out a little at a time. I feel the small puffs across my hair, and I count ten. I can’t help but smile as I imagine the Destroyer counting down his anger like a child. Like I have done so many times.

  I wrench my hands from his and tear off the blindfold.

  I stand and face the crowds, pushing Hade farther into the shadows with a hand at my back.

  “Each of you in this room has black in your soul. I can see it. I can see the darkness strangling you even now as you eat these fine foods and drink Lord Hadeon’s wine. Yet you are free to go about your lives of sin and evil. These two people before you were captured while trying to right a wrong. They have dirtied their souls while trying to clean yours. So, Lord Hadeon, here is my Judgment. Set them free.”

  The crowd gasps and dissolves into hushed conversations.

  I dare to turn and look at Hade. His eyes are like liquid fire, their amber color flecked with black like ash. Neither of us blinks for many long seconds.

  Then, “I could be merciful,” he says quietly, tilting his head.

  “It is not mercy to pardon a wrong, when the wrong was done to correct another wrong. This is Justice. This is restoring Balance.” My voice rings out over the mess of ladies and men. Many of them pause to watch our discreet argument.

  “And yet, they will have that darkness on their souls forever.” His statement isn’t really a statement - it’s a piece of the riddle I haven’t solved.

  “You told me yourself that everyone has darkness in them. Does everyone deserve to die? Do you?”

  “Of course I deserve to die. But don’t they?” His arms sweep a circle, including everyone in the room. “Don’t all of these black, black souls deserve to be burned clean?”

  I shudder, thinking of the guard in the courtyard again. “Burning them clean is just another way to kill them. I won’t do that.”

  Just when I think he will retort and force me to do the very thing I fear most, he nods. The slightest incline of his head, and the four guards sheath their swords. The blindfolds are removed and the gags are loosened. I hear a string of curses begin to spill from Stian’s mouth as he looks around him.

  Then he sees me, and his eyes nearly pop out of his head at my scrap of a dress. The cursing grows louder. A guard shakes his head and tightens the gag again, muffling the vulgar words. He knocks Stian’s bloody temple, and Stian flinches. Zarea remains quiet, watching Lexan. I wonder if he is speaking to her, sending her his thoughts.

  For the first time, I hope he is.

  Hade steps close to me again, his hands running along my bare arms, raising bumps on my skin. “You are still so much weaker than I need you to be.”

  I blink my eyes to dismiss his comment. I may have won a round of the game, but we continue to play. “Then I will never be as strong as you want me to be, because I’ll never be as dark as you need me to be.”

  “Perhaps not,” he says. “But when people are tested, they gain strength. When they are broken, they heal stronger.”

  By now everyone is watching us again, although Hade’s voice can’t be carrying very far. My chest is starting to ache with the certainty that he is not going to let Stian and Zarea go free.

  I remember my dream of Stian in the arena, and panic begins to grip its icy hands around my heart. Please don’t let it be prophecy.

  “Wait,” I say to Hade, laying a hand on his arm. I smile as genuinely as I can manage.

  He chuckles. “I have waited as long as I care to tonight.”

  He steps back in front of me and surveys the crowd. “Your Lady Justice has demanded that these prisoners go free. And I agree with her. That is the Just thing to do. Her argument is sound.”

  Light clapping flickers around the room, until they realize he is not finished.

  One guard is still grasping Stian by his gag, the long sword glinting in the candlelight. Fresh blood shines at Stian’s temples, trapped in his old implant scars. His eyes flutter open and closed as he tries to maintain consciousness. Will he even be well enough to leave Tartarus when he is released? I try to catch his glance, but I never see his eyes focus on me.

  Then Hade lifts his hand for quiet. He bows his head to me, then says, “You can feel free to dispense Justice, my Lady. I, however, deal in destruction.” He nods to the guard. “Proceed.”

  Time slows down and I would swear it stopped altogether, except that I can see the movement of the guard’s arm, slicing from east to west, setting the sun on Stian’s life. A wide grin opens beneath Stian’s chin and instantly there is blood everywhere.

  So much blood.

  I hear a scream and realize it’s me. I find my hands have met the floor and are sweeping at the blood, trying to push it away from me. A vision of Mother flashes before my eyes and I whimper.

  Then I hear an inhuman sort of roar and from the hazy corner of my eye I see Zarea straining against her chains. They are so taut I can’t see why they haven’t broken or pulled her arms away from her body. Stian’s guards have dropped him to help restrain Zarea. Four men can barely hold her.

  The floor begins to vibrate beneath me and a narrow crack appears between my fingers, splicing the white marble of the throne room floor. Another crack forms, bisecting the silver channels of Irana’s track. A column shifts and a bit of ceiling tumbles.

  The people in all their black and white finery shriek and shove each other, stampeding for the door. Stian remains motionless on the floor. I glimpse Lexan for a second, struggling against the crowd. But a guard grabs his arm, pulling him from the room.

  And above it all, I hear Hade’s laughter. A low chuckle at the base of my neck first, rising into a loud, echoing, open-mouthed, head thrown back in triumph sort of laughter.

  That’s the instant that I know, beyond anything else, that I will kill him.

  My breath comes in shallow gulps as I try to stand and slip on the blood. I notice it has run into the small silver channel, and bizarrely I think of how the servants will have difficulty cleaning up that mess. I twist to my knees and see Zarea, unconscious, hanging limply from a guard’s arms as another bundles her chains in his arms. They carry her from the room.

  The other pair of guards begins to drag Stian from the room. One loops his arms under Stian’s shoulders, and the other grasps his knees. They carry his broken body from the room, and soon it is only me, alone with Hade.

  My hands are sticky and dark reddish-brown from the rivulets of blood that have run from the pool where Stian stood alive, only moments ago.

  And still Hade laughs. He collapses onto a nearby chair, smoothing his embroidered white jacket and pulling at his silvery scarf until both sides are equal length. He catches his breath.

  I want to burn him. To set fire to the lovely white and black. To add the red of my fire to the red of Stian’s blood. But I can’t call even the slightest spark to my palms. I can barely breath, and I’m broken, just the way Hade wanted me. Helpless all over again.

  “You dear, magnificent girl,” Hade says finally, smiling fondly at me. “You have done so well. You have brought me everything I have ever wanted.”

  My mouth opens, then closes, then falls open again. Words flit across my mind, but I can’t focus on any long enough to force them through my lips.

  “Oh, darling. Have a little faith. And don’t be so dramatic. I could probably revive him, stitch him back together, pour new blood in his veins. He would have quite a nasty scar, but what wanderer doesn’t?” Hade sits up straight, brushing a strand of hair back into place. He gazes intensely at me. “But there is a price for that. Always a price.”

  I stand on wobbly legs to face him, leaving my pride on the floor, drowning in a puddle of red.

  “Work for me,” he smiles. “With me, if you will.”

  He stands and starts to leave the room, stepping over a wide crack in the floor. “But you should know. Each
time you make the wrong decision, people will suffer for your weakness.” He steps through the mechanical doors and they click shut, leaving me alone in the broken room.

  I drift to the wall of open windows, steadying myself on a column. A light breeze blows a sheer white curtain around me, and I welcome the light in all this darkness, even if it’s only a piece of fabric.

  The open night sky spills before me, full of stars. The moon hides behind a drift of clouds, its silver light obscured. I wonder how many miles it is from here to Elysium. Or from here to home.

  Once a child of a finite network of caves and hallways, I find myself suddenly versed in miles and open sky. All I want any more is a place to lay my head for more than a few nights. A place that is safe and secure from darkness.

  I want a home again.

  And Tartarus certainly is not that home - it was never meant to be. But from this burning spot in the desert, I can see that Asphodel isn’t my home anymore, nor are the Tribes of Hebron or Kedesh.

  The clouds shift and the moon opens her lovely, full face to me. Somewhere in the air before me, a vision appears - just a wisp of smoke.

  And I see how this could end, if I win the game.

  Somewhere else, I could create a new home for myself and my followers. Together we might create a place for those who have more white in their souls than black. For those who choose to follow the laws of Justice and live in peace.

  NINETEEN

  The four elements are fire, earth, air, and water. Earth signs, including Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn, are unwavering, dedicated, and practical. Water signs, including Cancer, Scorpio, and Pisces, are intuitive, expressive, and passionate.

  From Understanding Your Horoscope

  Head Minister Charles, year 2073

  Stian’s death has shown me one, awful truth: I didn’t love him. Not like he wanted me to.

  And now, if Hade can indeed retrieve his life somehow, I will have to tell him that. I wonder what my own soul looks like. I’ve spent the night pacing the new cracks in the throne room, looking at my own arms, peering into mirrors and glasses of water. But I see nothing.