Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  Charles and Evangeline. But I guess the thought of the fires has made her rethink the need for another medic in the house.

  From First Leader Lakessa’s personal journal

  Included in Firene’s secret papers

  I bolt upright in the bed, sweat beading on my neck. Threads of the dream cling to my brain, sticking to my memories until I think I might forget which is real.

  This time was different, though, because it was a vision, and because it directly answered a question I’ve been asking for weeks. The gods have finally spoken directly to me, on a matter of my own initiation.

  Beside me, Trea mumbles in her sleep and shifts farther away, tugging her blanket close. She only agreed to move in with me when the snow forced everyone inside, and space became a luxury we can barely remember.

  I can still barely believe she’s here – we share my parents’ house with several others, but I don’t even care.

  I allow myself to brush a few curls from her face before sliding off the bed and going into the bathroom, where I know the light won’t bother anyone, and I begin to record the dream in my notes.

  The door cracks open, and Trea leans in, her eyes bleary with sleep. “You okay?” she whispers.

  I nod. “I had a vision. About Isa!”

  “Isa!” she repeats, blinking at the light as she opens the door wider and slips inside. “Tell me!”

  “During the eclipse, the moon will be in Gemini. Isa was born under Gemini, right?”

  She nods, sitting on the floor at my feet, stifling a yawn. She leans against my bare leg, and I brush my fingers over her hair.

  “So, as the moon started to pass over the sun, it created a sort of double to everything – a light and a dark version. One in sun, one in shadow. I was waiting in a field – we all were. Isa was nearby, and I saw her split into light and shadow. Like two people. The light Isa was laughing and holding Aitan’s hand.”

  “And the shadow?”

  “She was just watching everything in that weird, cold way she has now. Not evil, necessarily, but not good, either. Empty.”

  “Empty is bad when it comes to shadows. That’s where the darkness hides,” Trea says, and the observation chills me. My imagination strays to the darkness I know still hides in her.

  Her hand on my knee brings me back. “So, as I was looking at the two girls, I saw an arrow fly from somewhere. The tip was on fire, and as it pierced the shadow Isa’s skin, the darkness began to drift up and away, like smoke through the hole in the top of a tent. The two girls started to merge into one again.”

  Trea tilts her head, as though imagining what I’m describing.

  “It’s weird, I know. I’m not sure what to make of it. But it has to be a solution, right?”

  She nods. “I hope so. But if not, it still means your powers are growing – the gods actually answered one of your questions.”

  Her smile seems a little hollow, though, as she pulls herself to her feet, yawning again.

  “Maybe I can go with you tomorrow to see the Prophet. But for now I’m going back to sleep.”

  She ducks out of the bathroom before I can say another word, leaving me wondering what exactly has changed between us, and why.

  She never promised me anything, but I’ll be damned if I let her keep this much distance between us for very much longer. This is no way to live.

  Especially when there are so many things trying to kill us.

  “Come to feed the animal?” Aitan growls when I enter the room of cells the next day. We’re not alone – when the winter storms started, we were forced to use every bit of space for sleeping.

  But it’s lunch time, so most people are in the Common Area getting their rations. Pacem nods at me, stretching and heading out of the room. True to his promise, he watches over Aitan, and only leaves when I come.

  “The cell’s still open,” I observe to Aitan, although I know he doesn’t care.

  “The cell isn’t here, brother. It’s here,” he says, tapping his forehead. He pushes the food I’ve brought him around the plate.

  “When are you going to be done with this?” I ask, not for the first time. “Your life isn’t over.”

  “Says the boy who has it all,” he mutters darkly. His blue eyes spark at mine. “You got the Leadership position. You got the girl. You even got to kill Keirna.” He laughs bitterly.

  “You can have the council role any time you want,” I answer. “It’s not for me.”

  “Trouble keeping the rabble under control?”

  I grin. “More the council than the people.”

  He snorts. “At least when Keirna was in charge, things got done.”

  “Yeah, Trea said that the other day. Democracy is hard. But it’s right, Aitan.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know. You always were strong enough to do the right thing.”

  Not always, I think to myself, thinking of Keirna. Killing her felt too good to be the right thing.

  “Me, I like to mix it up,” he says with a wry grin. He takes a bite of his roll, and I breathe a little easier.

  “I had a vision last night,” I say. “About Isa.”

  He drops the bread and sits up. “Tell me!”

  I describe the dream. “I think we can fix her, Aitan.”

  He curses under his breath. “I hope so. It’s not right, Lex,” he whispers. “She deserves more than that.”

  My chest feels tight – I hate hearing his pain. At least now, maybe I’ll be able to do something other than listen.

  When I leave the room, I find the Three Sisters waiting for me, just down the hallway.

  “We need to discuss a few things,” Tisiphone says, her voice gentle – it’s this which scares me most.

  “The Prophet is waiting in your Minister’s office,” adds Megara with a sly grin.

  I follow as they glide through the passages, taking all the circuitous back halls that only those born here should know. Very few people cross our path, and they all scurry away once they see who is before them.

  I hesitate at the door. I haven’t been in this room since before I left Asphodel. For some reason, it’s the one room I can’t bring myself to enter.

  The room where I would have spent my future, if another life had been lived instead. The room where Head Minister Saloman likely spent his last evening, before rushing to my aid, only to be shot by his own partner.

  “Lexan,” Tisiphone coaxes, her voice still so mild.

  I nod and step into the room, closing the door behind me.

  Someone is seated before me in Saloman’s chair, head covered with a black hood. I don’t have to ask to know who it is: you can’t hide scents from someone with power over the air, and Trea’s scent is lilies and ash.

  I open my mouth to ask their purpose, but I find my tongue is mute – my voice box hollow.

  “You’re not the only one with tricks,” Alecta whispers, twining her fingers in the air. As they move, my throat twists, and only the tiniest thread of air keeps me standing.

  “Lady Justice,” Megara says. “Judge this person’s soul.”

  I can’t move or speak, held by some spell of the Erinyes, or possibly by the chains of my own guilt.

  “I see darkness…hello, friend,” Trea says, her voice unnaturally low and silky-smooth. A tendril of smoke escapes from beneath the hood, curling on her shoulder like a lock of black hair.

  She laughs, a low chuckle I would recognize anywhere.

  “Is this man worthy of saving?” Megara prompts.

  “Is any man worth saving?” Trea, who is not Trea, echoes. “Not really,” she continues, answering the question. “My poor, poor playmates. I do so regret their absence. Such a magnificent playground…” she clicks her tongue like a scolding parent.

  My heart has certainly stopped beating by now. The air left in my lungs is so thick I swear I can taste the ash on my tongue.

  “Is he worthy?” Megara hisses.

  Trea’s head snaps to the side so fast I drop to my knees be
fore her, fearing her neck is broken. She half screams and half groans, two voices twisted together. Her fingers grip the chair so hard the knuckles are completely white.

  “OUT!” she yells, and it’s really her voice. Then the laughter begins again, low chuckles that spill from her throat, pulling my sanity to the floor in front of me.

  Tisiphone reaches for her, alarm on her pretty face, but Alecta shoves her away. “They must do this!” she spits at her Sister.

  “He is worthy,” Trea says, though the voice is still not her own. “His soul is blackened, yes. Revenge patterns the edges in ugly green and yellow. But the center is white. Pure.” She sounds so tired – like even Hade is tired of the fighting they do inside her mind.

  Tisiphone touches my shoulder, and the air rushes down my throat so fast I get light-headed and my palms hit the floor, barely saving my face from the same. I pant into the rug covering the rock floor, coughing as the air fills every corner of my body with needed oxygen.

  I look up just in time to see Alecta pull the hood from Trea.

  Her orange-red curls tumble around her shoulders, but her eyes are the only thing I really see.

  “No,” I whisper. Solid black, from corner to corner.

  Tiny black lines surround her eyes, as though her very blood is blackening in her veins.

  She grins, and I nearly throw up my lunch.

  “Find her,” Megara says, and it takes me several seconds to realize she is talking to me.

  “What?” I ask, feeling like an idiot.

  “You passed your test. Now see if she can pass hers. Find her.”

  I stumble to my feet, uncertain of what they want me to do.

  “Trea?” I ask.

  She chuckles. Not Trea.

  She stands, and she seems taller than usual. Her eyes are nearly level with mine when I realize she’s floating…

  “Styx,” I breathe.

  The chuckles grow louder, echoing around the room. The Sisters step back, Tisiphone showing a very human fear I never thought was possible from any of them.

  “Styx is the last of your worries,” Trea whispers. “You know what waits for you – not Elysium or Asphodel. Tartarus is your future – murderer!”

  I back up a step, tripping over a fold in the rug and catching myself on the corner of the desk. She laughs quietly.

  “Trea,” I whisper again, my voice desperate in my own ears.

  Her hands rise and I notice the flames pooling in her palms.

  “Trea,” I say, louder. The flames grow, trellised through with black smoke.

  “Trea!” I yell, darting forward and clapping her hands in mine. Her body spasms as I clench the flames between our palms, gasping at the sudden pain. A sort of roar rips from her throat, and even her breath is hot on my face.

  She pushes against me, chest to chest, and my arms strain backward, my feet skidding against the floor. Grunting, I do the only thing I can think of.

  I suck the air from the room.

  The girl before me hovers a few seconds longer before collapsing like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

  Her mouth opens and closes, her lips searching for air that isn’t there.

  I breathe in and in and in, until there is nothing left.

  Those horrible black eyes roll backward, and the lids drift closed just as her head hits the floor with a thud.

  I pour the air back into the room in a rush, and Trea begins to gasp and choke as she regains consciousness. She lifts her hands to her eyes and I pray as I grasp her wrists.

  “Trea,” I whisper, pulling her hands away, still praying frantically that I’ll see her, and not Hade. “Trea, I love you.”

  The lids slide open, and her eyes are gray.

  Tisiphone laughs in triumph. “Yes!” she claps.

  Megara and Alecta only nod, and I can’t help but glare at them. “You almost look disappointed,” I say.

  Alecta smiles unconvincingly. “Of course not.”

  My eyes flicker between the three of them, waiting for their next move. I hope this is over, but I know it’s not.

  Trea rolls onto her stomach, coughing again, and I bend to help her up.

  “I’m sorry you had to be part of this,” she whispers, slumping against me.

  “I’ll never stop being part of this, Trea. This is us. And Hade or no Hade, you’re the only one I want.”

  She smiles weakly, and her eyes slide closed in exhaustion.

  Even days after the Sisters’ test, Trea is keeping her distance from me. At night, she often sleeps on the floor next to my bed, as though she wants to be nearby, but is afraid to be too near.

  She goes outside every chance she can.

  “Hade doesn’t like the cold,” she says one afternoon as I try to stop her from going out again, armed with her bow and arrow, and a snow shovel.

  “Trea, it’s practically a blizzard out there,” I say.

  “I’ll be okay, Lexan. I just need some time,” she says, turning and walking away.

  I watch her go, the anger pulsing through my limbs. My fingers form a fist and pound the rock wall before I even realize what I’m doing.

  “Go after her,” a voice behind me says. I turn to see Stian. I glare at him. “No, seriously. She needs you. She’s just trying her best to forget it.”

  I huff and rub at my bruised knuckles. “What do you know?” I grumble.

  “It’s the same thing Zarea’s doing. And Irana. They all know they have to survive the tests and the Garden alone. So they think they have to survive everything alone. So go after her and remind her that she’s not alone. That you’re not going anywhere.”

  I watch him walk away, realizing he’s exactly right.

  I break into a jog down the hall, grabbing my coat as I pass the council room.

  Trea is already several yards beyond the entrance, working on a path to the first building. She’s the only one crazy enough to be out here in this latest blizzard, shoveling snow as fast as it falls from the sky.

  “You don’t have to do that, you know. We have plenty of people willing to take shifts once the storm is over,” I say, coming up behind her.

  “I want to be out here,” she answers, not stopping. Her red-orange curls whip into knots, a stark burst of color in the blur of white that surround us.

  I sigh, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets. Why is this so hard? “I could probably blow all this snow away. You could melt it. Or we could just wait for it to stop!”

  She turns and glares at me, saying nothing. Then she just starts shoveling again. “Nothing is that simple, Lexan.”

  I feel like she’s talking about a thousand things besides snow. I push a swirl of air around us in frustration, blowing some of the snow from her path.

  “Stop,” she says without even pausing her shoveling to look at me.

  “You stop.” I push the snow away from us, creating a bubble of clear air, like we’re in the eye of a tornado.

  “Lexan, just leave it alone! I can’t do anything in there, so I came out here. Where at least I can be useful. Or alone. Or at least where I won’t hurt anyone!”

  I let go of the air and the snow begins to fall again. Soft, wet flakes lodge in her curls and cling to her lashes.

  “You look like an angel,” I whisper, closing my fingers over hers on the shovel handle, and wishing the words didn’t sound so corny. Because it’s true.

  She snorts, but her arm stops its shoveling motion, allowing my hand to rest on hers. “An angel of vengeance, maybe.”

  One side of my mouth creeps up in a grin. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” She looks up at me and her mouth tips up at the corner too, so I take the risk and lean in, brushing my lips against hers. The mix of her cold lips and the icy snow and our hot breath is mesmerizing, and in seconds her back is against a nearby tree and her arms are wrapped around my lower back.

  I brush my fingers across her cheeks, never breaking the contact of the kiss. She sighs into my mouth, and I feel a little diz
zy.

  Is this girl really mine? I’ve been hers as long as I can remember. But is she really mine now?

  “Trea?” I whisper, screwing up the courage I’ve lacked for so long. She mumbles something against my lips, not stopping the kiss. “Trea, will you partner with me?”

  She pulls her lips from mine and tilts her head back to rest it on the tree, confusion pulling her brows together. She takes a deep breath, pulling in some of my own air.

  “I mean, you didn’t really have a choice, on Choosing Day. Will you join with me now, for real? At the Partnering Ceremony…” I trail off, because her expression is so hard to read, and I’m flushed despite the cold, and I don’t really know what else to say.

  “I didn't think we’d even still be here for that Partnering Ceremony,” she says slowly, and my heart groans, thudding into my stomach. “There are so many different things we have to do and spring has to come soon…I just assumed…”

  I brush a snowy curl from her cheek, my finger pressing against the flakes left behind, melting them one by one. “I think the ceremony will be good, and I think it’s important for us to be there – as Leaders,” I add when her eyes narrow. “I mean, it gives people some hope for the future, or at least some fun.”

  “But March twentieth is so late – we need to find the Garden as soon as possible.”

  I sigh. We’re getting way off track from my question. “I know. I’m not trying to ignore that. I just want you, Trea. I want you to be mine. I want to be yours,” I add, softer.

  “The council will just argue about the ceremony, like they do everything else,” she mutters, leaning her head farther back to stare at the sky and totally avoiding my plea. The seconds tick by, and still she says nothing else, her eyes far away, fixated on the blur of white around us.

  “What are you really thinking?” I ask, sliding my hand down her arm to grasp her fingers.

  The movement jolts her, and she looks back at me, her thoughts blank, although I should be able to read them. I should know everything in her mind by now.