Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  I sit back against my cushion, my head reeling from this threat. Surely I could never take the lives of good people? Those who have more light than dark? Then I realize I may have already done so.

  “I see revenge in your heart,” the True Prophet says, forcing me from my thoughts. “I have seen many visions with you as the center, and some of them conflict.”

  “What does that mean? I thought prophecies were solid - set in stone.”

  “They are. It is our interpretation which changes them. If you interpret a prophecy in one way, you receive one result. If you interpret it a different way, you receive a different result. The gods and the stars tell us what will happen. It is up to us to discover why it happens.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask again, desperately trying to make sense of his words.

  “One day, you will die,” he says, and I flinch. “That is part of a prophecy. But…why will you die? Will you die because you decide to sacrifice yourself for the light in this world? Or will you die because you succumb to the darkness and become an empty shell to be whisked away on the winds of time?”

  I cannot speak - emotions well up inside of me, wave after wave of fear, then determination, then hopelessness, then pride, then terror. Each emotion is mine, and each is tied to one of the two destinies he mentions.

  “So here is your new prophecy,” he says, leaning forward and grabbing my hand. A lock of his sandy-red hair falls in his light blue eyes. He is so young.

  “Three maidens together will change the course of the world - Justice, Lawfulness, and Peace.”

  I wait. He stays silent. “That’s it?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “Change…as in…” I prompt, hoping for more.

  “That’s what I’m telling you. The three maidens can choose to cleanse the world of darkness - which is what I’m hoping for, frankly - or they can be swept into that darkness and their powers will be used to rid the world of light. And another hundred years of darkness will begin, until a new Starbright Maiden can be summoned.”

  “Okay, wow. I can’t even...Have you seen Lexan?” I don’t even know why I ask this question, but it makes the True Prophet smile.

  “You are right to need him. He is part of another prophecy - one that ties your destinies together irrevocably.”

  “So I am meant to be with him?” Part of me rejoices in settling this.

  The True Prophet shakes his head and that part of my heart stumbles. “Like I said before - the stars tell us you are tied together. But you must determine why.”

  I sigh in frustration, crushing the edge of a pillow inside my fist. “What are the choices in interpretation?”

  “I think you know that. Look inside your heart, then look around you.” He stands as if to go.

  “Wait! I need more than that!”

  “I’m sorry, Astrea. That is all I have to give you. We are leaving Tartarus within the hour.” He knocks at the door and the guard opens it. I grab his hand, desperate for a reason to keep him here - I need to know about Lexan.

  “I hope to see you someday in Elysium, but beware of the Three Sisters,” the True Prophet says, bending to kiss my hand, then releasing me and slipping out the door. It shuts and locks, leaving me alone again, with very little gained.

  I give a strangled scream of frustration, throwing my glance around for something to ruin. I snatch up the fake letter and try to rip it to shreds. But the paper is thick and waxy, refusing my fingers.

  I throw it on the tile floor, shooting a small flame at it, but it refuses to light. I stomp my foot - I can’t even destroy a paper, much less the ruler of Tartarus. I am weak and ineffective and stupid and-

  I look back at the paper.

  It’s glowing, but not on fire. As it glows, black words appear, then fade away as the paper cools. I pick it up, feeling the heat. I burn it again, and the letters reappear.

  Astrea: If you are reading this, then you are as clever as I believe, and you have passed another test.

  Your final test will be to fulfill my remaining prophecies. You must do this before leaving the city, or the prophecies will be fulfilled in an alternate way.

  Here are your prophecies: Before two weeks’ time, Tartarus must be cleansed. Justice, Lawfulness, and Peace will partake equally in the Cleansing. If this does not come to pass, the city will be destroyed.

  How will you interpret my visions?

  Keep your sights in the stars,

  True Prophet

  I pace the room, reading the scant letter over and over, burning it each time the letters fade. Without warning, the paper turns a solid black and disintegrates into ash in my hands. I make a disgusted noise. Where is Lexan? He could puzzle this out for me.

  I spend the morning throwing flames at Charon’s head until he sends me away in anger. Hade summons me for lunch in the throne room before I have a chance to make it back to my room.

  “Where’s Lexan?” I ask when we are settled at the table. I pick at the food on my plate in the silence.

  “I’m sure he’s around somewhere. I’ll have a tray sent to your room, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  That isn’t what I’m worried about, but this isn’t quite the right time to tell Hade my ideas.

  “How did I do with the Elysium people?” I ask, pinching a corner from my roll.

  “They were pleased with your demonstrations of power.”

  “But I didn’t even show them anything! You could have lied about my abilities.”

  “One does not lie to the Three Sisters and live to tell of it, darling.”

  “So am I ready, then?”

  “Ready for what?”

  “To march on Asphodel. To displace Keirna and serve her Justice.”

  “Oh. That again,” he murmurs as if I’m a small child begging for a treat. “I think we should form a better strategy. Charon will be the one for that, and he will name the time. You, of course, will help, but in the capacity I give you.” Hade pauses and twists to look at me straight on. “Do not mistake me, Astrea. You will not be in charge of this expedition.”

  “But I’m the one who came to you! I’ve been here this whole time, practicing like you asked me to.”

  “Exactly. You brought me the powers I had been seeking and the opportunity to test them out. That is all. Surely you didn’t think I was involved with your little quest?”

  I shut my mouth around a bite of chicken, because of course I hadn’t believed that. Not really. Not in several days, anyways.

  “You need to think broader, anyways. You are too focused on Asphodel. What about the rest of humanity? Who will save them?”

  “Why are you so keen to save humanity, when your greatest desire is destruction?” I shoot at him, my annoyance growing.

  “Because what good is a playground with no playmates?” He laughs a little, taking a sip of his dark coffee.

  “That’s an ugly thing to say.”

  “Besides, I have a theory about your power.”

  “What is it?”

  “I might tell you, but not now.”

  I huff and push my food around some more.

  Hade glares in my direction, but I refuse to look back at him. If he plans to treat me like a small child, I plan to act like a small child - and a petulant one, at that.

  “Finish your lunch. Meet me in the courtyard soon. I have a different sort of training planned for you this afternoon.”

  He rises and bangs out the door, leaving me with the impression that he has something horrible planned. Not bothering to eat more, I hurry after him.

  When I reach the courtyard, I immediately try to turn and flee, but there is already a pair of burly guards blocking the door. I turn, cursing Hade under my breath. He sits under a shaded canopy, with a glass of ice and some brown liquid, as though he is waiting for a show.

  And looking at what is spread before us, I think he likely is.

  Arranged in groups of what can only be families are a dozen or so citizens of T
artarus, blindfolded and gagged, sitting as best they can on the hot paving stones of the courtyard.

  “Close your eyes and tell me what you see. Judge them,” Hade instructs, his tone almost gleeful. The group nearest me, beginning to understand, start to shift away from the sound of Hade’s voice, whimpering. The mother leans in front of her young son, instinctively trying to shield him from whatever might be coming.

  Trembling as much as they are, I close my eyes. It takes me a minute to separate them from the others, but soon I can see the three figures. The father is more white than black, the mother just the opposite. But the boy surprises me, and I open my eyes to make sure. He can’t be much more than twelve or fourteen. I close my eyes again, and grit my teeth. His soul is one of the blackest I’ve seen, except for Hade’s.

  “What has the boy done?” I ask, my voice falling like shards of glass on the huddled people. They flinch away from me.

  Hade laughs loudly. “Brilliant, isn’t she?” Nobody answers. “Astrea, darling. Lady of Justice. This boy was caught stealing bread, just a few nights ago.”

  “Stealing? That can’t be all.” I glance back at the boy, who has shifted back on his heels.

  “Right again. When he was caught stealing, he killed the guard.”

  “In self-defense, or otherwise?”

  “A little of both,” Hade admits. “But there is a bit more. After he killed the officer, he stole the man’s identification and went back to the guardhouse. There, he killed four other guards. Not in self-defense. He also killed a dog. Shall I explain his methods?”

  I shake my head. My stomach is already churning at this young boy’s crimes. I look back at him and he seems to be rocking on his heels. He faces me, and although he still wears a blindfold, the gag has somehow worked its way out of his mouth just a bit. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. His mother reaches a hand, fumbling for him, and he shrugs it off.

  “Now dispense Justice,” Hade commands. “We are omitting the arena games today. Burn him! Cleanse his darkness!”

  “No!” I cry. “I won’t be your sword, Hade!” But before I can say anything further, the boy flies at me, screaming curses about the Lady of Justice. His fingernails scratch at my face and reflexively I hit him with a solid stream of fire. His screams take on a horrific note as he burns, and I begin to scream again, reliving the day of the guard attack. Then the mother lumbers blindly forward, trying to find her son, and her dress catches fire. She bats desperately at the flames she can feel but not see, strangled noises coming from behind her gag. The air is thick with the smell of burning flesh.

  The father, sobbing, tries to crawl forward, but one of the guards finally intervenes, kicking him away, disorienting him enough that he crawls toward the opposite wall, keening behind the gag in his mouth.

  And Hade is laughing. The two bodies before me have stopped moving, but the fire rages on, consuming everything that made them human. And still Hade is chuckling.

  “What is wrong with you?” I scream at him, swiping tears from my face. “My powers are not meant for this!”

  “Then what are they meant for?” Hade yells, raising his voice to me for the first time. “You have so much power, yet you refuse to learn how to use it! Those people could have been saved from death if you had been practicing! Now, try again!”

  I break into sobs, collapsing on the hot stones. How could I have saved them? Once the fire leaves me, it can’t be stopped. I can’t smother it. Can’t call it back. Hade leaves the courtyard, throwing a last look of disgust in my direction.

  “Make sure she completes this today,” he tells Charon.

  Charon allows me to cry a few minutes longer, then he kicks my side with his boot. “There are two possibilities. One, you summon the fire back to you. Two, you only send enough fire to burn the evil part of the soul.”

  “But I’m not burning the soul! I’m only killing their bodies!” I close my eyes, and sure enough, the two bodies before me have yet to relinquish their souls.

  “Then figure it out,” Charon hisses in my ear. He’s bent down to my level, glaring at me. “You weak, pathetic girl. Do you really want to kill every person in this courtyard? Because that is what we will do, if you don’t learn.”

  “I…I can’t, Charon.”

  “You will. By the way, have you seen Lexan?” His child-sized fingers grip my shoulder.

  My face whips up and I see the evil glint in his eyes. “Where is he?”

  Charon grins, his bottom lip nearly cracking at the strain. “Let’s just say Hade has found new sleeping arrangements for the young man. Where he won’t be distracting you from the reason you’re really here.”

  I retch onto the pavement, the sick-sweet smell of burnt flesh mixing with the acid my stomach has relinquished. How did things change so much in such a short time?

  So I get up. I try summoning fire, then throwing it at a pile of wood, then calling it back. It doesn’t work. Once the fire leaves my fingers, it becomes its own entity, with only one goal: destroy. I think that’s why Hade likes it so much. I try to push it away, like Lexan did with the tornado, but nothing happens. If he were here, perhaps he could save these people.

  “Time to try the other method,” Charon says after over an hour of burning logs. The people in the courtyard have clumped closer together, farther away from me and the heat of the fires I have been setting.

  “No, I can do this. Just a little more!” I say, desperate to delay what now seems inevitable.

  Charon shakes his head, beckoning to a guard. The guard picks a middle-aged man from the crowd. He doesn’t cower or plead, or curse behind his gag. He seems brave. I close my eyes and search.

  He has a little bit of darkness settled within him, but he is decidedly more light than dark. The tendrils of white actually curl around the darkness, as if they hold it down, protecting him from the black that threatens us all.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I move closer, until I am only a few feet away.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “You are very brave.”

  I call a small flame, honing it down until it is a focused torch of blue in my hands. As I move my palm up, I’m surprised to see that I can actually see my fire with my eyes closed. The blue dances toward the man, as if ready to taste him.

  I focus on a spot of darkness just below his ribcage. I touch the fire to the black, and the man grinds his teeth, growling through the pain. The black seems to shrink just a bit, and I feel a wave of excitement pushing against my eyes. I squeeze them tighter, pointing the flame at more of the darkness.

  I do my best to ignore the man’s muffled cries as I dig my flame through the light, finding and burning away each little tendril of darkness.

  Then, unexpectedly, the darkness pushes back.

  I feel its force like a hand shoved against my chest, and I fly backward onto the pavement. The second my eyes open in reflex, the fire bursts from its internal location, back onto the man’s skin and he screams around his gag. The flesh begins to melt from his body before I can close my eyes again, and I watch in horror as another life is taken because of my failure.

  The man’s body stops twitching and he is silent. I shut my eyes and search for his soul. It is there, and much whiter than before. But he’s still dead, and I still killed him.

  I swivel my head to where the other two bodies still lie and see that their souls are gone, leaving blank space behind my lids.

  “Again,” Charon says, yanking on my arm.

  I shake my head, too weak from emotion and fear to do as he asks.

  “Again! Or I will send word to the dungeons. Who means the most to you, now? Perhaps Lexan? Or the boy Hade has made alive again? The brown-haired girl who bellows like a bear?”

  I slit my eyes open at him. So Zarea is still imprisoned. Another threat to dangle over my head. I wish Lexan were here - he would know what to do.

  “I will not kill these people while I try to learn my abilities.”

  Charon bends further down,
so he is level with my glare. “Hade has left orders that if you do not cooperate, they will all be tortured and killed. So perhaps you do them a favor with a faster death. And perhaps you do us all a favor by learning your abilities. Now stop being selfish.”

  “Selfish? How is refusing to kill people being selfish?” I gasp, my eyes wide.

  “I’ve told you that you can spare them from prolonged pain before their inevitable death. Yet still you sit here, wallowing in self-pity that you must dirty your soul by taking their lives.”

  I try to swallow, but the truth of what he says is like a rock lodged in my throat, blocking the air from reaching my lungs. Slowly, I nod.

  By the end of the afternoon, I have progressed spectacularly in my abilities, according to Charon. He makes another list for Hade. I can now focus the blue flame consistently, burn away the darkness while leaving the light, and fight for a reasonable amount of time against darkness which refuses to be burned away.

  I have also killed five men, four women, and four children.

  Charon estimates that another day of the same will complete my training.

  The guard fairly carries me back to my room, which is empty, again and still.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Though I walk through the valley in the shadow of death, I will fear nothing.

  For you are with me, and you comfort and guide me.

  Ancient prayer for bravery

  From Madna’s Archives

  I wake in the middle of the night, so cold my teeth are chattering despite the three layers of blankets Ama provided me with. I had been dreaming of the thirteen deaths today, and all the darkness I burned away. In the dream, the darkness did more than leave the people: it flowed sinuously into my own heart.

  The black heart within me grew more and more dense with each life I took, until I was nothing but an empty black hole, ringed by fire.

  I get up to pace the enormous room. There are no sounds of Lexan breathing, no wrinkled spot on the bed beside me; there is nothing because he is in the prison.