Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  “It’s time!” Irana practically sings once she can breathe again, and the two of them pull me out the door and toward my last Asphodel ceremony.

  I’ve been ignoring the preparations for days, but I have to admit it’s beautiful. Everyone in the whole city is here, it seems, tucked into every available space of the Common Area. A sort of balcony has even been added around the perimeter of the room, providing seating above the main crowd. Garlands of specially-grown Asphodel lilies are draped down the narrow aisle, and someone from Elysium sits on the same stage we’ve always erected, playing one of the few harps that made the journey unharmed.

  The True Prophet waits there too, watching for the arrival of the couples, a serene look on his young face.

  Someone steps up to grasp my arm, and I feel the tears begin to flow.

  “Brenn,” I whisper. I’d also avoided thinking about who might walk me to Lexan, since both my parents are gone. He smiles down at me, a few fat tears slipping down his own cheeks.

  I’ve barely had time to see him since returning, as he mostly stayed topside with a group of protectors, watching for the Lost and providing meat as often as possible. “Your mother and father would have loved to see this,” he manages.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, just as the music beckons us forward. I’m first, of course. The people stand as I’m guided toward the stage from one side, as Lexan is on the other side, Pasia on his arm. I glimpse Kesh, but his eyes are fixed somewhere behind me, where Hesten waits her turn.

  I’m not sure how many couples wait to be partnered – the line stretches back farther than I can see. It seems quite a few people have needed a celebration of the future. I recognize many of my classmates – the ones who walked through this same room on Choosing Day last year – and there are also plenty of couples from Elysium, Tartarus, and the Tribes.

  I push away the sadness I feel when I pass Isa, standing stoically with her parents. She and Dalen were broken up long before Keirna hurt her, but my heart aches for Aitan, and what he’s missing today.

  As the strange compilation of ceremonies progresses, I barely notice the prayers or the music.

  All I can focus on is Lexan, and how happy he looks. His happiness eclipses any doubts I have, and staring into his deep-water blue eyes, I’m drawn inside the quiet center of his soul.

  “I choose you, Lexan,” I say when it’s my turn. “Today and forever.”

  “And I choose you, Astrea, today, tomorrow, and every day of my life,” he whispers back, changing the traditional words.

  He pushes his mother’s double rings onto my fingers, and I do the same with his father’s rings. We press our hands together, and the rings click and interlock, joining our hands.

  We hold them up for the crowd to see, and everyone cheers.

  The celebration that follows is more lavish than any I’ve seen in Asphodel, and part of me worries the people won’t have enough to last them through the remaining weeks until they leave.

  But I barely have time to think of anything once the dancing begins. Everyone dances with everyone else, laughing and twirling in a frenzy of happiness.

  Even Stian whirls me around the floor a few times, a grin on his face. “Eighteen, partnered and everything figured out. I guess it isn’t as stupid as I used to think.”

  “Oh, you were just using that as a line, anyway,” I tease. “You turned around and asked Zarea to do the same thing not much later.”

  “Yeah, I’ll get that girl one of these days.”

  “You will,” I agree. “Probably once you stop asking.”

  He twirls me away, and when my gaze settles again, it’s on Lexan’s face. His gaze is so intense I feel like we’re the only ones left in the hot, crowded room.

  “Ready to go home?” he whispers, leaning in to kiss my cheek. My stomach churns as my overactive brain lists all the ways we have become one over the past year, and the only way we’ve never tried.

  Fire and air powers and darkness be damned – I fully expect my nerves to kill me before the night is over.

  But I allow him to pull me from the dance floor, noticing out of the corner of my eye that many other couples are doing the same. We pause before the door to his parents’ home.

  Our home, if only for a night more.

  I stand frozen as he unlocks the door. The lily slips from my hair, and I crush its silky petals in my shaking fingers as Lexan turns and sinks to one knee before me. His arms reach around my waist, and I bend over him as his mouth skims my shoulder and comes to rest at the bare hollow of my neck.

  My knees buckle just enough to make him grin.

  “Hold on,” he whispers, pulling one of my arms around his neck and scooping under my knees before I realize what he’s doing. He stands and nudges open the door, carrying me inside.

  I glance around the living room, but it’s empty. The bedroom we pass – his childhood room – is empty too. My stomach flips. We enter the room we share now.

  “We’re alone, aren’t we,” I say, my voice barely a squeak.

  Lexan lays me gently on the bed, looking down at me with an expression I’m afraid to name.

  “Yes, we are,” he smiles. He takes off his outer coat, leaving only his white dress tunic. He hands me a scented candle, and I light it with a flick of my fingers. He aligns his body next to mine on the bed and twines a curl around his finger. “It will probably never happen again,” he laughs, but even the laugh flips my stomach.

  I want this. I do. I’m just suddenly terrified to be alone.

  Then again, I’m just as terrified of what we did in front of the whole city. The whole world.

  Nerves make me giggle. “Styx,” I whisper. “I just promised you forever in front of the whole world.”

  A shadow passes over his face, and I hurry to reassure him.

  “No – I was ready. I am ready,” I whisper, reaching for him. He breathes out and rolls to embrace me, slipping the thin straps from my shoulders.

  His lips rest again in the hollow of my neck, then follow the curve of my collarbones, to my shoulders, then back again. The dress falls to pieces beneath his careful fingers, and he calls on the air again and again to cool our bodies.

  The room shimmers with flames that consume only air, and I’ve never felt more full of power, or of love.

  “We should have tried this a long time ago,” I whisper, and he answers me with a kiss.

  Later I watch him sleep in the flicker of the candle, studying the beautiful planes of his face, and I remember all the times I swore this moment would never happen. The times I despaired that it could never happen. And the times I allowed myself to dream of it happening.

  Like everything else I’ve dreamed, the reality is so much more.

  THIRTY-NINE

  LEXAN

  November 11, 2067

  Something terrible is about to happen. I can sense it like a black cloud smothering our suddenly-happy home, but I can’t see through it.

  The vision itself is black, like swirls of smoke.

  Why would the gods punish us with sorrow after sorrow?

  Do they wish for all of humanity to wilt and die?

  From First Leader Lakessa’s personal journal

  Included in Firene’s secret papers

  The very first day of our partnership, Trea and I pack our bags for what I hope is the last time. We’re leaving Asphodel forever, which is both difficult and freeing. In addition to the same provisions we’ve always carried, we add snowshoes to walk on the crusted surface, thick fur blankets that I hope we won’t need for long, and guns with tiny boxes of heavy bullets.

  We wave goodbye to practically the entire city – six of us, quickly separating into the diamond-shaped formation Zarea has mandated. She is the front, scouting for Lost, and Stian is the opposite point, watching our backs. Trea and I are the other corners, and Irana and Pacem – the weakest by far – are protected in the center.

  As we walk, Trea occasionally burns the shape of a crescent moon int
o the trunks of trees near the road, leaving markers for the caravans which will hopefully follow us soon. We keep mostly within visual distance of each other, though with the bare trees and endless white snow, that distance is much larger than it will be once the spring begins.

  As we gather in a shallow cave at the end of the first day, I see a mixture of hope and dejection on nearly everyone’s faces.

  “I know we have a long journey, but I’m confident we’ll make it there without harm,” I say, spreading one of the blankets on the rock floor.

  “Yeah, heroes don’t die on the way to the battle,” Trea says, half-joking, but echoing words I know Madna pushed in her brain. Words of hope, mixed with the dejection of knowing we could very likely die in battle later.

  “Everyone dies,” Irana says, drinking deeply from her water skin. “How you choose to live has always been more important.” She smiles at Pacem, who grins back. He rubs at the places where his skin meets the metal, pulling his own blanket tightly around him. The cold slows his progress even more than ever.

  But he’s valuable – even now, he’s updating the map with our progress. He looks up, his glass eye glinting in the pale light we have left. “I know it’s only been one day, but at this rate, we’ll reach the coast in six weeks, not four. But we should be able to speed up as the weather improves, right?”

  Zarea nods. “We better. Maybe we’ll find some horses along the way.”

  “Too bad the vehicles wouldn’t run in the snow,” Trea sighs, settling next to me and snuggling close.

  “I’ll take first watch,” Stian says, climbing out of the cave. “No fires tonight, Tre.”

  She nods. We haven’t seen the Lost, but they must be nearby. We’ve agreed to get a good distance from Asphodel before doing anything that might draw them out.

  I turn into Trea’s warmth and sleep pulls me under more quickly than ever in the cold darkness. But we’re all woken before Stian’s shift even ends by the rumbling of the earth as it rolls beneath us.

  “Rea!” he yells as she scrambles bleary-eyed out of the cave and skids down the steep hillside. Spreading her arms to the ground, she rolls with it, the snow buckling and sucking her under. Trea screams and tumbles down after her, melting the snow everywhere she touches, searching for Zarea under the heavy white blanket. I grab as much of our gear as I can and shove Irana and Pacem out of the cave as the walls and ceilings begin to crack.

  The ground trembles one last time and Stian slides down next to Trea, digging frantically. Finally they drag Zarea’s limp form into the open air. I’m relieved to see Trea throw a wall of warmth and flame around them – who even cares about the Lost at this point?

  I hear Zarea begin to cough and splutter, and through the low, flickering wall, I see her hugging her ribs. I get close in time to hear her say, “So can I skip my shift tonight?” Stian chokes out a laugh, hugging her close.

  Trea turns to see the rest of us huddled at the foot of the hill, clutching armfuls of blankets and packs.

  “We lost a blanket and maybe two guns,” Irana says apologetically. “The cave collapsed.”

  “It’s okay,” Trea says. “I’m just glad you’re all safe!” She spreads her fingers and a section of flame opens like a gate, then closes us inside its protective warmth.

  “I guess the rebellions of the elements are going to follow us the whole way,” I say as I hug her tightly.

  “Did you have a vision?” Pacem asks.

  I shake my head. “Just a feeling.”

  “Damn, I wish your feelings weren’t so accurate,” Stian spits out, breathing heavily. He coughs out a mouthful of dust and phlegm.

  “So that’s what a tornado looks like?” Pacem asks, staggering toward me. His metal arm hangs at a funny angle until he wrenches it back in place.

  All I can manage is a nod, before sitting heavily on a mound of neon-green new grass. At least the snow has finally left us – whether because spring is coming or because we have turned slightly south in our quest for the coast.

  “The warmer days and cool nights make the air swirl anyways, and the elements aggravate everything, like something is bent on holding us back,” I say, trying to rub some warmth back into my arms.

  “More like killing us,” Trea grumbles, picking twigs from her hair. She slumps against me, and I’m grateful for her heat to help me heal after such extreme use of my powers.

  We rest a few hours longer, then push ourselves to continue. We’ve been gone two weeks, and although the snow isn’t slowing us anymore, we haven’t quite reached the pace we hoped.

  Late in the afternoon, when we’re looking for a place to stay the night, Stian catches up to me.

  “I need to stay back a bit – stall the others at camp for me. There’s something following us.”

  “The Lost?” I ask quickly, my nerves tightening like bow strings.

  But he shakes his head. “They’re back there somewhere, but this is an animal. Bear, maybe. I need to take it down, and I want to leave most of the meat – for the Lost.”

  “Why would you feed them? Oh…so they won’t need to eat us,” I say, answering my own question almost immediately. We’ve all been hoping food is the main reason they hunt us, and not some higher purpose, such as revenge.

  So I stall everyone at camp, telling them half the truth – that Stian is hunting some fresh meat for us. Only Zarea gives me a second glance, but I just focus on sending her reassurance.

  I take the first watch, and it isn’t until the stars have pricked the entire sky that Stian returns, dirty and smeared with blood.

  “Bear,” he grins, holding up a huge chunk of meat triumphantly. “I left the rest, but this will make a fantastic breakfast!”

  I laugh at his enthusiasm. “Glad it was you, and not me,” I grin. “I need some sleep though…do you want next watch or should I wake up Zarea?”

  “I’m up,” she says from the darkness behind me. “Get some rest, Lex.”

  I don’t have to be asked again, and as soon as my head hits my pack, my eyes close out the world.

  When I wake, I can tell I’m not awake. I’m dreaming, but I’m lucid. I’m trapped in a funnel cloud, and I have to find my way out, like a maze. But there is something I can’t quite see, just a little closer to the center – in the eye of the tornado.

  I push forward, groaning at the strain of staying upright in the ferocious wind. Then I glimpse it: a map. I have to get that map – it leads to the Garden! I just know it. So I push on and on, winding through the walls of air.

  I grasp the paper. It feels rough in my hands, with indentations where the lines have been scratched into the thick paper. Colorful symbols line the path – rivers, mountains. The sea.

  The path is clear and straight. Difficult. But finally revealed.

  “Lexan! Lexan!” I hear my name over and over, but the voice is on the other side of this maze of wind. I have to find my way back out. The currents threaten to rip the map right out of my hands. I bend my head against the air and memorize the map.

  The voice calls again, and I hear desperation. I need to get back – and soon, I think. I stuff the map down the front of my shirt and push on, nearly crawling as the air feels more and more like rough arms crossing my chest, holding me back. Pulling me under.

  But then real arms push through the walls, grasping my hands and pulling me straight through. I scream at the pressure in my head, and the world goes dark again.

  “Lexan! Come on, Lex!” The voice again. It’s so familiar. I want to get back to it. Whoever it is needs me. But there’s something else…

  “The map,” I groan. My hands search my shirt. It’s gone. I cough and try to roll over, but my body is too sore.

  “Lexan, we have the map. Pacem has the map,” the voice begins again, closer to my ear.

  I sigh in relief and succumb to the exhaustion that sucks me back into the darkness. The warm body plastered to mine keeps me from slipping totally away.

  A rhythmic jarring in my b
rain pulls me back, and I know it’s hours later because the darkness of night has been replaced by blinding sun. Even with my eyes screwed shut, it’s too bright. I groan, and the repetitive jolting stops.

  “Lexan?”

  “What happened?” I ask, my voice gravelly. I press my palms to my eyes, trying to block out more of the light.

  “Oh, thank the gods,” the voice says, and I feel soft fingers on my cheeks, at my pounding temples, brushing away my hair. “You had a vision. We weren’t sure you were coming back,” Trea whispers.

  “A vision…” I repeat. “The map!” I struggle to sit, but she pushes me back onto the blanket.

  “Yeah, yeah, the map,” Zarea says, letting go of her corner of the blanket. I tip backward until the other corner is lowered, and I sit on the ground.

  “You guys have been carrying me?” I ask, finally blinking my eyes open enough to see what’s around me.

  “You wouldn’t wake up. We didn’t know what else to do,” Trea says.

  “How long?” I ask, fear prickling across my back.

  “Three days,” Stian grunts. “Your ass is heavier than it looks.”

  “Three days,” I whisper. I’ve been lost in my vision for three days. “But Pacem has the map?”

  “Lexan, he’s always had the map,” Trea says, her voice growing worried.

  “No – the new map!”

  I see their glances of worry, but I ignore them as Pacem finally kneels next to me, his metal pieces creaking from too much moisture. He unrolls the map before me.

  “No – there should be more,” I say. “Right there – there are mountains there. And the path should be more…here. Do you have a pencil?” He hands me one and I start drawing, closing my eyes to visualize what I saw in the eye of the tornado. “There.”

  They all crowd around to examine my work.

  “Are you sure?” Stian asks, doubt laced into his voice.

  “This is the best vision I’ve had. And I actually remembered it! So, yeah. More sure than I’ve been about things before.”