Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  “Then he shall die.”

  I leap to my feet in shock, but Hade holds up a hand to stop me.

  “If you don’t love him by now, then the prophecy must have been interpreted incorrectly. There will be other ways to release your power and Balance your heart. Guard!” He beckons.

  “But how can the same prophecy be true for me and false for him?” I say, grasping at the only piece of logic I can. My mind is too filled with images of Lexan, locked away in a dungeon, subjected to Hade’s every wish.

  “Not the prophecy, but our interpretation of it. Besides, with Balance gone, my Lady of Justice might finally harden her bleeding heart and embrace revenge. And that, my beauty, is precisely the power I’ve been waiting for you to unlock.”

  I blink for just a second too long, watching his darkest of dark souls swirling in his chest. I hold my breath inside my lungs, afraid to release any air. Opening my eyes, I see that his face remains unconcerned as he watches me, waiting for my answer.

  I consider my choices. I could try to breathe a lie of love, but he would never believe me now. I could try to bargain, but he isn’t the type to hold true to any promise.

  With every breath of air I take in and release, Lexan’s smile and deep-water blue eyes accost my heart.

  There is only one thing to do, and I’m finally prepared to do it.

  I lift my arms and call fire at the same time - my practicing with Charon doesn’t disappoint. In an instant Hade is engulfed in a fireball the size of the couch he rests on, and Irana drops to her knees, clutching the bars of her cage with wide eyes.

  All I can hear is laughter. And soon, as the couch continues to burn down to ash, Hade stands and walks slowly toward me. His clothing chafes off in layers of floating ash and I lower my eyes against his nakedness.

  He passes me, still chuckling as I stare unbelievingly at my feet. How is he still alive? What will he do to me now? Oh, Styx. What will he do to Lexan?

  I glance desperately around the room for his other weapons. Most are ceremonial - too heavy to even lift. There - a case of knives rests in an alcove near the throne.

  “I am dressed again, you awful, silly excuse for a Maiden of Justice. Tell me this - what good is Justice if it can’t even wipe out the most unbalanced soul in the world?”

  I turn to face him. He cinches the belt on his regal robe - the one worn only for ceremonies. His laugh has distorted into an ugly sneer.

  “I see you have been misleading me. I thought surely you didn’t love the boy. You slept in the same bed for nights and never even touched.”

  “That doesn’t show an absence of love,” I answer, stepping to the side and slightly toward him. Closer to the knives. Although since my fire couldn’t burn him, I wonder if he even has blood to bleed? It doesn’t matter. I have to try.

  “You will never stand with me while your friends live,” Hade says in wonder, as if he had not thought it possible.

  “Or even if they don’t live. You are the Destroyer. I am Justice.”

  And with that I dart to the table against the wall, my fingers closing around one of his ceremonial knives. The handle feels thick and heavy in my fingers, and the blade is too short, barely a finger-length. But there is no more time.

  I hurl the blade as I turn my body, and his eyes grow lighter in the most human shade of surprise as the blade penetrates his thin robe, thunking neatly into his chest.

  He looks down at the blade in wonder, his fingers running over the handle, caressing the markings. His legs bend, sinking him almost gracefully into the throne.

  “My Diké,” he says, barely a whisper. “You have truly returned. And I…I have failed.”

  The last word is barely pushed from his lips when his head lists to the right. He dies with a smile on his face, his blood barely noticeable against the black sheen of his satin robe. I can’t move, my eyes locked onto the knife, my fingers still frozen from the release.

  Has it really worked? Have I murdered the ruler of Tartarus? Destroyed the Destroyer?

  A deafening crash breaks my wonder and I whirl to see that Irana’s cage has crumbled around her. She steps from her place, her graceful dancer’s feet avoiding the rubble. Now that her captor - her puppeteer - is broken, she stands tall and unafraid. I wonder if she will flee, leaving me to deal with the guards, but instead she approaches his chair.

  She bends to examine the knife but does not touch it.

  “What did he call me?” I ask, the unexpected question pressing away the silence like an air bubble bursting.

  “Diké. An ancient name for Justice.”

  She then pulls the handle gently, sliding it from its fleshy sheath, and brings it to me, a rivulet of blood following her own blue-tinted veins. She presses the handle to my palm and points at the carvings.

  “A mallet?” I ask, peering at the picture.

  “This is the symbol of Diké, the goddess of Justice. One of the three sisters sent by the Fates to save humanity.”

  “And why did he say that I’ve returned now? That he’s failed?” The phrasing sounds strange in my mouth.

  Irana simply stares at me, as though she is waiting for me to solve a riddle.

  Then, “Because I am Eirene, goddess of Peace. He was waiting for you - Diké - and the other goddess - Eunomia - to return. He planned to collect us. We can fix everything, if we are joined as one. But Hade never meant to let us go free. He wanted to use our power to cause chaos and war and injustices everywhere.”

  “Is he…is he actually dead?” I still haven’t approached the throne, anxiously waiting for him to spring back to life.

  She nods. “For now. But he will always return to cause chaos. No matter how many times he dies, he will find a way back.”

  I know I look crazy, staring at her with my jaw slack, but I can barely process the fact that I’ve somehow killed Hade with a tiny knife, after burning the couch to nothing. And now she tells me he will come back? And that I’m supposed to become one - not only with Lexan - but with two other girls?

  I close my eyes against it all. With my blind sight I see that Hade’s body is no longer visible, meaning the soul has left it already. So fast. Then a bit of darkness swirls at the edge of my eyelids and I lift my face toward the ceiling. There is the black hole that once filled Hade’s heart - expanding to fill the ceiling of the throne room.

  I can’t let that darkness come anywhere near us.

  “We need to go,” I say, snapping my eyes open. “I need to find my friends.”

  “Of course. I’ll come with you.” Before I can object, she hurries to the door and opens it, waving away the guards with her bloodied hand. I expect them to kill her instantly, but they only step aside, nodding their heads when I pass through their watch as well. They move into the room we’ve left, and I expect to hear a commotion, a shout, but there is nothing, only the click of the door shutting.

  She runs, leading me through the winding corridors and the trick door with the three cities in circles. I follow her without question, and we arrive directly to Lexan’s cell, though I can’t imagine how she possibly knows the way. The guard startles heavily when he sees her, but then he nods and moves to unlock the door.

  She rests her hand on my arm, holding me in the hallway. I notice how her mere touch is calming, as though she radiates peace.

  I think my brain is turning to dead matter.

  “I’m not afraid to die,” Lexan’s voice travels into the hallway, weak and raspy.

  My heart squeezes in on itself at the resignation in his voice. I would call to him, but Irana’s hand holds me back tightly, focusing my energy.

  “Can you tell the girl…” he breaks, coughs. “Tell her it was always her?”

  Irana knocks a patterned code on the doorframe.

  “Tell her yourself,” the guard says. “There will be no more death today.”

  The door swings wide and the guard pulls Lexan’s faded body toward us.

  He gathers Lexan into his arms, carrying
him like a child.

  I moan when I see him. His eyes are swollen and purple-red, his lips bright with blood. His arm hangs at an unnatural angle. I see streaks along his thighs where blood has seeped through the fabric.

  The guard moves to the next cell, where a cot waits. He leaves, and Irana follows, leaving me alone with Lexan.

  “It’s okay. I’m here, Lex. It’s over. Hade is dead.” I flutter over him, afraid to touch him, unsure what to say.

  “How dare you come to me now, when I’m broken like this. When I’m a shell of who I once was.”

  His quiet words hit me harder than any punch ever could, and I need several seconds to catch my breath.

  “I need you, Lexan. Your light. You’re my humanity. My half to make a whole.” I’m babbling, not even sure where these ideas are coming from. But once the words hit the air, I can sense the truth embedded there.

  “Hade has taken your humanity. Now you want mine? I’m worth nothing now. Your measure of Balance is broken, Trea,” he says again, the bitterness in his voice soaking the room with sorrow over what can never be.

  “I’ll fix you. We can fix each other. Please!” My tears are flowing freely now, and I grasp his cheeks in my palms, holding his face to mine. I kiss his closed eyelids and feel them flutter against me like trapped butterflies. Then he doesn’t move again.

  “Guard! Irana!” I scream into the empty hallway.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The light cannot live without the darkness. The darkness cannot live without the light. And the soul cannot live without the body. These are the visions I have seen every night this week. The images have finally coalesced into these three thoughts, and I hope they might be more meaningful as time passes.

  Secret Journal of First Leader Firene

  Hade’s body is burned on a pyre in the center of the arena.

  I watch from the pavilion, high above the world. I marvel that the flesh burns now - mortal - when it wouldn’t before. The citizens of Tartarus cheer as the flames rise.

  I speak to them, claiming the right to Lord Hadeon’s throne. I promise them Justice and better lives, if they will submit to my cleansing fire. They mostly cheer louder and jostle each other for positions as they line up in front of the palace doors for their turn at salvation. The ones who fight or run are hunted down by the palace guards.

  But through it all, I remain numb. Blind, and not in the way Justice should be.

  The only sights I want to see are Lexan’s deep-water blue eyes, and his lopsided smile. But he sleeps in an unwakeable sleep.

  Hade was right - I don’t need him to focus my power. I cleanse several hundred citizens without Lexan, because I don’t know what else to do. But the more darkness I burn from them, the more darkness finds its way into my soul.

  Irana tells me Hade’s plans and his findings in tiny snippets, when I pause in pacing the throne room. My throne room.

  “Hade looked for me for years, when I was right under his nose. A daughter of a palace maid,” she tells me one morning after I have ordered the servants to never bring me another orange.

  “He believed he had found the third Maiden, but he never told me where. She would have been born in Elysium, and I’ve never been outside these walls,” she says that afternoon when I rest from cleansing citizens of their darkest deeds.

  “Once we are all together, we need to cleanse each city and conquer its vices. I heard the Three Sisters tell Hade that when they thought I couldn’t hear over the music. They were worried that we would come to Elysium next.” This comes when I have returned to my room to bathe. I sink under the bubbles to drown out her voice, and when I rise from the depths, lungs screaming for air, she is gone.

  When I finish my bath, I stand naked in front of the mirror. My eyes are no longer ash gray. They are inky and black - filled with the deeds written in the dark hearts of those I purge.

  I’m craving light, and I don’t know how to get it without arousing suspicions.

  I close my eyes, wishing I could see my own soul. See if any light still lingers there. The door bangs open and before I can react, a soul floats before me, so much light calling its siren song. My hands rise and I burn and burn and burn, and the person never says a word.

  Soon only darkness remains and it isn’t enough of a soul to sustain the body - the soul dissipates into the air like steam rising from the bath behind me.

  My arms and legs and chest are awash in the beautiful light and I smile - I feel whole again. Balanced.

  I open my eyes and scream.

  Ama lies slumped before me, her hand trailing limply in the bath.

  I don’t stop screaming until someone tucks me in my bed and pours a sour sedative down my throat. My mind goes blank and I am grateful to feel nothing.

  When I regain my consciousness, there is a warm body next to me. My closed lids sense a light soul, and I moan with the memory of Ama.

  “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

  My eyes fly open and I see the sight that it suddenly seems I’ve waited my whole life for - Lexan’s deep-water blue eyes stare back at me, tears glinting at their edges. The water reflects in his eyes and it looks for all the world like the starry night sky is reflected in his face.

  “Keep my sights in the stars,” I whisper, remembering the True Prophet’s words.

  “What was that?” Lexan says, bending closer. I shake my head and bury my face in his chest. I am careful to keep my eyes open, although I feel exquisitely Balanced.

  “Are you ready for visitors?” Lexan asks, his crooked smile making an appearance. I push up on my elbow and follow his head as it turns. The curtains of my bed pull back, and I see Stian there, with Zarea.

  Their fingers are laced together. Zarea smiles at me and tucks her hair behind her ear. Stian grins as a flush creeps over his neck and cheeks.

  “I hope you meant what you said…” he says, his voice trailing away. I nod, knowing exactly what he means.

  “You two are supposed to be together,” I say, my voice a little hoarse from disuse. And screaming, I remember, with a wave of nausea.

  This is a nice reunion, but we have so much more ahead of us.

  Just then, a tremor shakes the building, and a chunk of plaster falls from the ceiling a few feet away from us. Stian yanks Zarea closer to him.

  “They’re getting worse,” Lexan says. “We’ve had tornadoes, too, and even a flash flood on the north side of Tartarus. While you were out,” he adds.

  “How long was I out?” I say, narrowing my eyes.

  “Four days,” Stian answers. I blink, the nausea returning. I scrub my hands across my eyes.

  “What day is it, then?”

  “Saturday,” Irana answers, entering the bedroom with a tray of clear soup and a plain roll. I bolt upright, scrabbling at the covers.

  “We only have a day left! We have to cleanse the whole city by tomorrow!” I cry, trying to remember how many citizens I’ve already administered to.

  “How do you know? Who told you this?” Lexan demands, grabbing at my arms.

  “The True Prophet! If we don’t finish, the city will be destroyed!”

  Irana drops the tray at my choice of words. “The Destroyer…” she whispers, her whole body trembling.

  I stumble to my feet, hands steadying me. “Bring all the unmarked people to the palace. Have the guards scour the streets. Hurry…” I watch as they scatter - all but Lexan.

  “Trea - what happened with Ama…”

  I shake my head. I can’t think about it.

  “It won’t happen again. I’m so sorry - I was selfish. I need to be with you when we do this. I’m your Balance. And I wasn’t there.”

  “Lexan, no! It was not your fault!” I cry. How can he think this was his fault?

  “I’ll stay by your side - I have to. We’ll be okay together.”

  I try to meet his eyes again, but the impulse to withdraw is too strong.

  In the courtyard, Charon is already lining up people. He do
esn’t seem to be overly upset about losing his ruler.

  I raise my arms to the crowd. “People of Tartarus - my blind eyes see what you have done in the darkness of your souls. Come forth and be cleansed.”

  I close my eyes and begin at once, not bothering with the speech and the calming and the bravery - there is only time for the cleansing. I immediately feel the benefit of having Lexan funnel the darkness away from me - his air currents sweep the clinging tendrils from my fingers before they have time to grasp hold and inch toward my soul.

  But there is too much darkness in Tartarus, and some pieces of black souls still make it through to me, despite his efforts. I don’t say anything, because I don’t want to worry him. I can’t possibly burden him like that again.

  All afternoon and through the dark, star-filled night we see people. I learn through trial and terrible error that when darkness has overtaken the Balance of the soul, the body simply cannot live through the cleansing. Those who are too dark are taken to the dungeons.

  Perhaps they might one day be cleansed in some other way - I will no longer condemn anyone to die in an arena.

  Gradually the sky begins to lighten again, and the stars wink out one by one. And still Charon brings citizens for me. I begin to despair that we will never make our deadline. The day of the deadline has dawned, and the city still stands, so perhaps we have until the moon rises again.

  Lexan begs me to stop for food, or water, or to rest my arms, but I refuse. I will not fail this city.

  Soon the sun blazes directly above me, and the heat seems to both fuel my fire and drain my resolve. I notice more darkness slipping past Lexan’s control, and I know he is even more exhausted than I am. His bruises are faded, but even now I can see the markings of Hade’s torture.

  Another dark, dark soul stands before me and I want to shout and scream at him - if only he had not sinned! If only he had reached for the light instead of succumbed to the dark. Too late, I identify the feeling coursing through me as revenge, and I struggle to shove it beneath the duty I have to everyone here.