Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  From Aisa’s personal journal, saved from before the Cleansing

  The land ships travel faster than I thought they would, and we are out of danger from the ocean by the end of the day.

  Scouts circle the caravan continuously, some traveling backward as far as possible to look for stray survivors who didn’t make it on the ships, and some traveling forward to search for danger – we fear the increasing strength of the elements, the possibility of the Lost, and our own inability to travel across the entire land with the few provisions that were saved.

  None of them ever report a sighting of Zarea, but I feel her presence somewhere. Irana and I both sense her power, traveling over the earth with us.

  “What exactly happened to Zarea and her sisters?” I ask the Prophet, finally finding him when we stop at a stream to collect water into the rest of the great barrels in the bellies of the ships.

  “Serah’s and Ashta’s powers were completely used up, I believe. None of us knew that would happen, I promise you.”

  He looks genuinely upset, and I know Tisiphone is burying the girls even now, after Tariel pronounced them dead on the ship just moments after clearing Elysium’s borders.

  “Can my own powers be used up, then?” I ask, thinking of the few times when I’ve used so much power that I could barely walk. I look down at my palms. “Do you think my fire could kill me?”

  He hesitates, glancing down the river where Irana is helping funnel water into the barrels, stripping it of any impurities with her power. Then he nods, his eyes kind but warning. “You must always be careful to take the time to replenish your Balance – to rest the fire within you.”

  He turns to go, then looks back one last time. “Trea, nothing can burn forever.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  LEXAN

  August 25, 2067

  I haven’t been writing as much lately, as Charles and I meet more and more often. Surely Mother knows, but strangely, she hasn’t said a word.

  Perhaps she’s gotten used to the idea that her daughters are growing up.

  No matter what type of house we live in, she can’t keep us safe forever.

  From First Leader Lakessa’s personal journal

  Included in Firene’s secret papers

  This isn’t going to end well for us.

  The vision wraps around my brain like a vise, and even though I know it’s not real, I can’t convince my body.

  There is fire everywhere already. In the trees. Creating a wall along the perimeter. “All of this will end in fire if I can’t reach her in time!” I scream at the figure blocking my path.

  “You will complete your task, and she will complete hers,” the figure says, and the voice is so distorted that I can’t even tell if it’s a man or a woman.

  The fire closes in, and I feel its heat singeing my face, licking at the bottom of my pants.

  “You will all burn together,” the voice says, dissolving into rough laughter.

  “Hade,” I whisper, just as the fire leaps over my head and I tumble back down into the depths of my brain. There is darkness everywhere. Inside and outside of me.

  No – not complete darkness, I realize, blinking the vision away from my confused brain. There, in the corner behind the door, is a blue pinprick of light.

  It flickers a bit, then swivels toward me, advancing. As it closes the distance, I can see the faint blue glow casting a light on a smooth metal cheek.

  I grin as the last bits of the vision fade away and reality walks toward me. “Pacem?”

  “What happened?” he asks as his robotic fingers swivel and turn into tiny tools that unlock my cell.

  “Keirna is dead, but another has already taken her place.”

  “The young blond girl?”

  “Yes. But it’s complicated – she can’t just be killed. She’s Trea’s best friend.”

  Aitan stirs in his cell a few feet away, groaning.

  The door of my cell swings open and I lead Pacem to Aitan. “This is my brother. I don’t know how sick he is.” I reach in and feel around for the vial Isa left. My fingers grasp it just as his hand clamps down on mine, crushing my joints.

  “That’s mine,” he growls.

  “You can’t take it,” I say twisting my wrist in his grip.

  “If it brings her back to me, I can.”

  “If this is what Keirna took, and what she gave Isa, there isn’t any bringing back. You might stand next to her, but feel nothing. Isn’t that worse?”

  “Worse?” his voice is gravelly and bitter. “Worse than watching the love sucked right out of her with an injection? I had to watch it happen, little brother!”

  My heart twists at the idea of the pain he’s been through, but I’m relieved he’s calling me brother.

  “So you know I’m real now?” I ask as Pacem undoes his cell.

  “Who cares what’s real or not, when there’s such a difference between living and life.”

  He just watches the door swing open, unmoving.

  “Aitan, we have to go.”

  He shakes his head, settling back where he was. Broken, I think. My brother’s spirit is broken.

  “I’ll stay with him,” Pacem says. “I’m used to watching over people in cages.”

  I narrow my eyes at his unexpected wry smile, then nod my head. “Thank you. I’ll be back soon, I hope.”

  He hands me a knife, and I head carefully into the corridor. I think it’s still early morning, as the Daylights are not quite at full strength. People will be coming through soon, on their way to their vocations.

  I think the Common Area is empty until I see a single flame burning on the flat rock podium where Keirna used to give speeches. Creeping closer, I see Isa has been swift to act.

  Keirna and Saloman are arranged on a bier, hands folded peacefully on their chests. A stack of white candles waits for people to light – an homage, I suppose.

  Asphodel has never honored bodies like this. Bodies are burned, and then a remembrance is held.

  Isa must want to display the wounds.

  “They will all turn against you,” a soft voice says from behind the bier. I climb the steps and find Isa sitting calmly on a chair, just behind the bodies of our former First Leader and Head Minister.

  “Asphodel will be glad to be rid of her,” I counter.

  “Much has changed since you left. She became the city’s savior when you and Astrea weren’t up for the job.”

  Hearing her call Trea by her full name jolts me, and I feel such guilt, again, that I couldn’t stop any of this from happening.

  “But we are still saving the city. Rising from the cave is something anyone could do. Finding Tartarus and Elysium and all of the Tribes and taking everyone to the Garden – that’s something Keirna could never do.”

  “Who’s to say you can? We haven’t even seen a soul from those cities. Perhaps you are lying about the deeds you’ve done – perhaps you don’t even know if the Garden exists.”

  Her statement is a little too close to accuracy for my liking, and I glare back at the great empty room.

  “How did you get out, by the way?” she asks.

  But I don’t have time to answer, because the first family enters the Common Area. A woman screams as she realizes what is before them, and more people enter the Common Area, then crowds, running, as word spreads.

  I barely notice when Isa’s guards bind my hands behind me, forcing me to stand next to the bodies.

  Murderer and murdered, the placement says.

  It says nothing of who was the real murderer all along. That will be up to me to say.

  Isa stands in the position of authority, behind the podium. She waits until the flow of people from the corridors has stopped, then she holds up her hand.

  “Citizens of Asphodel!” she calls, her voice rising to quiet them. “Our First Leader is dead. Her partner, our Head Minister, is also dead. Here before you is their killer – Lexan of Asphodel, son of Witter and Chanah. Brother to Aitan, who is also
a traitor to our city. Chosen for partnership by Astrea, who abandoned Asphodel when it needed her – afraid and without power, they left us. Citizens – what should be done with this man?”

  The crowd is silent for a second or two, then someone yells, “Traitors must be imprisoned!”

  Another joins it, and another, building on each other, and soon there are a great number calling for my death or lifetime in a cell.

  Then another voice rings out, “Lexan has done nothing but try to make Asphodel better!” Pasia pushes her way to the front, followed by her partner. Her belly is huge, and she moves awkwardly.

  “You all also know our laws allow for accused people to make their statement. This is something Keirna often ignored – but you know the procedures!”

  Many voices murmur their agreement, and I have to suppress a grin as I meet Pasia’s eyes.

  If I can speak to them – if they will look at me – I can convince them. She nods to me, and the crowd quiets to hear what I might say.

  “What Isa says is partially true. I came here torn between revenge and justice. I decided on justice. Then last night, I killed First Leader Keirna. At first, this might seem like revenge for what she’s done to my family and me. But it wasn’t. It was justice, and it was self-defense. Before I shot her with my bow, she had shot her own partner, Head Minister Saloman, in the neck with a gun. A gun he stole from her, to prevent her from killing me.”

  The crowd grows louder at this statement, and Isa holds her hand up for quiet. I try to catch the eyes of as many people in the front as I can, sending them the same thoughts I’ve just spoken, begging them to believe me.

  “You all know my family,” I continue. “You know my father and mother died mysteriously, just like many of your own family members. Keirna murdered my father. He didn’t die in a climbing accident. She also murdered my mother – that snake bite was not simple bad luck. She killed Trea’s mother and father. She killed the shopkeeper who helped Trea with her Choosing Day dress. I could go on, and you could provide more names that I don’t even know about…many of you have loved ones who would still be alive if this woman hadn’t chosen the day and nature of their death.” I point down to Keirna’s body, gray and blackened with dried blood.

  The crowd shifts restlessly, whispering to each other. I manage to look into a few more pairs of eyes, and I feel the doubt in Isa’s request growing.

  A man pushes his way to the front, and I recognize him as one of the Leaders who used to work with Aitan – Perce, I think. “Keirna was a demanding First Leader, but she kept Asphodel together when you and Astrea abandoned us. She took the prophecy into her own hands. How do we know you are telling the truth about her? What is your proof?”

  “I’m sorry. I have no proof. But none of us do – Keirna always made sure of that. What we do have is the knowledge in our hearts that our family members could not have been that careless – or the belief that our loved ones would never have taken their own lives.” I see a few of them beginning to nod. “The only thing more painful than losing someone you love, is knowing it could have been prevented. I can’t change what’s already happened. But I came back to Asphodel as soon as I could. I came back to serve justice on the woman who tried to take everything from me. From all of us.”

  “Why did you leave, then? Why wait so long to come back?” someone calls.

  “I will tell you every day of my journey – the whole story. But first, we need to agree to no more fighting. No more death. There has already been too much of that. We are a peaceful people, are we not?”

  I look around at the protectors, who now shoulder guns, and wonder if this is still as true as I once believed. Some of them meet my eyes, and many of those shift uncomfortably.

  Then one takes the gun strap off his shoulder, walks to the front of the crowd, and lays the weapon at the foot of the podium. Another does the same, and soon there is a pile of weapons resting like a memorial at the base of Keirna and Saloman’s bier.

  “Is this what you wish?” Isa calls out to the people. “An Asphodel that is peaceful, but vulnerable to attack, both from inside and out?”

  The people begin to talk, first quietly, then open debate and shouting breaks out.

  One of the protectors who had laid down his gun picks it back up again, facing the crowd.

  “Asphodel!” Isa calls, her voice crackling into the microphone someone has finally brought her. “We have much to decide! But we will do it with order, and complete information. Anyone who acts with violence to another citizen should be immediately removed to a prison cell, as our laws dictate. Therefore, I propose that Lexan be placed in the public cell,” she gestures toward the nearby empty cell, “and held for questioning. Once he has told his full story, we will hold a community vote for his punishment, if any. Do you agree to these terms?”

  Someone calls, “Let it be done!” and more voices join, until there is a chorus of agreement. I sigh heavily as I’m once again pulled behind bars.

  People gradually begin to break into groups having heated discussions, then pairs and trios, and eventually scattered single people making their way to their vocations and classes and homes.

  “Welcome home, little brother,” Pasia says, coming to stand next to the cell. She pushes a sack of food through the bars, and I tear into it, suddenly ravenous.

  “How do you think they will vote?” I ask between mouthfuls. Even though logically I know I’m in danger, I somehow can’t quite process that it’s real.

  “Asphodel is a sensible city, after everything. I think once they hear your story, and begin to see the influx of people needing aid, they will want your leadership again. Your prophecies.”

  “My prophecies are worth nothing,” I say, depression licking its wounds in the corner of my brain. “I was hoping to study more with the True Prophet, or even Saloman.”

  “I trust in you. The people will too, and maybe one day you will trust in yourself. I’ll be back at lunch,” she smiles, patting my leg through the bars.

  I settle back, watching the room empty. Keirna and Saloman remain on the platform nearby, and seeing her gives me both satisfaction and sorrow. As much as I am happy that she can no longer hurt anyone, I worry that I’ve somehow broken my inner Balance.

  Nothing seems right anymore.

  I reach into the bag one last time for the remaining food, and find a sheaf of blank paper and a pencil.

  Well, not completely blank.

  Pasia has written a note in Firene’s symbol language.

  “Of course,” I whisper.

  When the people begin to filter into the Common Area for lunch, they find me sitting placidly in the center of the cell, papers laced through every bit of the lower half of the bars.

  My story is written on every one – pages and pages of the details I’ve gathered about the cities and the Tribes and the prophecies and the trials ahead.

  The few remaining papers I’ve pushed through the bars, and they rest on the cave floor below me, with the instructions to write a question.

  People come to the cell. They read the papers. I look into their eyes, and send them what I can to convince them. I don’t lie or manipulate, but I beg.

  They write questions on the papers and slip them to me, and I write the answers as best I can. Someone brings me more paper, and someone else brings a large board to tack the questions to.

  All day long I answer their questions, address their fears, and promise them hope.

  When the last person leaves the room as the Daylights blink off, I lie back, exhausted. I’m massaging my hand when Pasia appears again, with another bag of food.

  “You’ve done well today, little brother. The people are being swayed,” she says, then walks away toward her home, rubbing her belly.

  The next morning, people begin to ask questions without the barrier of the paper.

  Isa draws near, watching with her dark, blank eyes. I wonder if she has designs on power, like Keirna, or if she is purely emotionless and logi
cal.

  If she is the latter, perhaps the people will be able to convince her to let me help lead. If she wants what is best for Asphodel, I must show her I am that best.

  My chance comes during the lunch hour, when the Leaders gather around me, debating the future of the city.

  “Lexan, what do you think we should do now?” Seren asks, her face lined with worry and the desire to be given a simple plan.

  “We should rebuild what is left outside, like you have begun,” I say, giving all of them what they need – a goal. “Soon we’ll have thousands of people at our door, seeking shelter from the winter and the Lost. It’s time for Asphodel to offer shelter to those in need, instead of locking our gates and refusing it.”

  “You think we should be their refuge?” Perce asks, disdain etched across his face.

  “Yes. We are the last city before the Garden. They must stop here for the winter,” I say. “We must not only build housing for our growing city, but we will soon be housing all those travelers from the west. When the snow thaws and spring begins, we will trek east as a group of thousands, to search for the Garden. We must settle there before the Great Eclipse, or humanity will be lost. We have to work together, or all will perish.”

  “You have seen this in a vision?” Seren asks, her expression somewhere between doubt and hope.

  “I have,” I say, and for once, I’m not lying or uncertain about my visions. I may not know where the Garden is, or how we will get there, or even how we will build a city for so many people.

  But I do know that the eclipse is to be our final test.

  If we do not pass, humanity’s fire will be snuffed out forever.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  ASTREA

  September 3, 2067

  I heard Kess and Clota whispering about the safe cities they’re planning with Charles and the orange boy. Asphodel and Tartarus. The names are from Greek mythology – something I would have gotten to study in school if not for this war.