Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  I was the star who begged the moon, finally, to let me help.

  “Have I done enough?” I ask, even before I realize there is someone standing before me. Her shape is vaguely round yet vaguely human, and pearlescent white.

  “You have done well,” she says, and somehow I know she’s the Goddess Moon. “Would you like to come home now?”

  Home, I think. And where is that?

  “The sky is your home,” she says, reminding me that speech is not needed in the sky. “But you should know that his time on earth is not yet done,” she says, a trail of light flowing down and illuminating a picture below my feet.

  I look. There, tiny and far away, is Lexan. He’s bending over someone on the ground. Someone with bright red hair. I blink up at the Moon, not understanding. I’m so tired. Every part of me feels hollow. Clean, but empty.

  “That’s your human body. It’s broken. You can come home now, if you’d like.”

  I kneel down to better see the picture below me. The people are rising slowly, stiffly, as though they’ve been sleeping for a very long time. The only one not moving is Lexan.

  No, that’s not true. There, beyond the gate. Miles and miles from the Garden. I bend closer to see their lifeless bodies.

  “The ones who wouldn’t come,” the Goddess Moon says softly. “Their sunfire was also stolen, and there was no-one to revive them. But these things are not your fault. Hadeon Maximus’s reach is as far as mine.”

  I snap my eyes back to hers, alarmed. “He is never gone,” I say, echoing what Irana once said.

  She nods. “You could never truly defeat the darkness. The war between light and dark is eternal and necessary. But neither is this your fault,” she repeats. “A savior cannot save the unfaithful.”

  “Can you fix it? Heal my body?” I ask, suddenly needing to know. She nods. “Then I want to go back. I’m not done, either.” I may not be able to save the unfaithful, but I can save Lexan one last time. He has enough faith for both of us.

  “You should know a few things, then. If you choose to return, all of my power must stay here, in the heavens.”

  “I don’t want the fire anymore.”

  “Not just the fire. The water, and air, and earth, too. Those powers stay together. All there, or all here. “

  “But what if they’re needed?”

  “The humans will need to fight their own battles.”

  “And the darkness?”

  “It will return. It always does, eventually.”

  “And Justice? Peace and Lawfulness? Will they return to help fight? Will I become Justice again?” There is too much I still don’t understand.

  “That’s not for you to know.”

  I’m silent for a few minutes. For an eternity. My mind can barely process this choice. I watch the picture framed far below me. Lexan still hasn’t moved from the body splayed before him. The flaming curls are strewn around, and the blood is turning brown like the earth.

  “What about Irana? Is she gone?” I ask.

  “She has chosen to come home, yes. She is at peace here in the sky with me.”

  Something in that sounds wonderful. Tempting. I can already barely remember what it felt like to have a body that breaks and hurts. Even the fatigue is fading. I feel as light as the air. Floating.

  A particle of pure energy and light.

  Then, “If the darkness always returns, that means the light does, too, right?” I say, suddenly muddling through her final riddle.

  She smiles, and the effect is that of clouds being swept from the moonlit sky. I see stars and glittering moon before me. I look down again. Lexan has finally moved, and he stands looking up. Looking into the heavens, straight at me. His deep-water blue eyes are truly made of water now, and it spills down his face.

  I tremble. “Can he see me?”

  “No. But I’ve allowed him to remember, too. Where you have gone. Where he cannot yet go.”

  “But he will come back here, one day? I could wait for him?”

  The Goddess Moon is silent, and I understand that she does not hold this answer. Only Lexan could choose that. Finally, after a lifetime of struggle with choice and free will, I am left with the stark knowledge that I might never see Lexan again.

  That our power and protection against the darkness will be infinitely weaker, until the gods decide to intervene once again.

  But then an odd lesson I learned from Stian fills my mind, and I know my answer: this is not my home. Lexan is.

  “Send me back,” I say finally, my voice echoing throughout the heavens. And everything goes black.

  Someone is coughing, and I can’t see anymore. Pain fills my mind to spilling over.

  I am coughing, and my eyes are burning with the light from the heavens above, where the Moon is now edging away from the Sun. Somehow, the stars have followed her, and they sparkle like diamonds as they follow their Goddess Moon on her way down the side of the sky.

  “Trea,” someone whispers. Lexan. My Lexan.

  “I came back for you,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

  “I knew you would,” he says, the water still slipping down his cheeks. “We’re forever, Trea. Spring star and autumn star.”

  Even though he whispers, his voice is strong enough to wrap both of us in the impossible blanket of stars above us. And even though I can barely sit up, I am strong enough to fight off any darkness that might creep into our hearts, from now until forever.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thanks so very much to everyone reading this, because every reader matters. I’m so happy you took a chance on Trea and her friends, and on me as an author. I may not know everything, but I’m always willing to learn one more lesson.

  Thanks especially go to David, for letting me keep my own sights in the stars and follow my dreams, even when things aren’t perfect or easy. I’ll give you at least a ten-day break this time.

  To Mom, Dad, and Margaret, for being secret financiers and vocal supporters, and for always being patient when I don’t call back right away. And to my extended Thompson and Gremore family, for all the Facebook and face-to-face love I get for my books and my crazy dreams.

  To Beau and Alayna, my beautiful-souled, creative, energetic children. May you never lose your sense of wonder.

  To Cecily, editor extraordinaire. You are my person, and I owe you the entire Oxford dictionary. I’d pay up now, but I’m not sure you have space on your shelves.

  To Kayla and Corrina, who are the type of reader the world deserves – discerning and voracious. I bet you’ve already snuck a copy of your mom’s draft, haven’t you?

  To the OCHS LitWits, for always asking me to read outside my comfort zone. And especially Katie and Karen, for quick help with beta reading and editing when I was running behind schedule! Your surgical comma removal skills are, well, perfection.

  To my cover designer, Najla Qamber, for another jaw-dropping cover. Your art inspires my art.

  To all my new blogger friends and my Stargazers - your support is amazing, and I promise to keep learning how to make your jobs easier! Much love to my Launch team: Ashley, Stacey, Fi, Karen, Alicia, Carla, Vicky, and Kira. You ladies always pull through, and I appreciate your feedback in every form!

  To my students - past, present, and future - for continuing to ask me how sales are going and if I’ve sold the movie rights yet. I hope sharing my dreams with you helps you find the courage to hunt yours.

  And of course, to every single reader. The curtain has been drawn, but the show will return as long as there is an audience. Thank you for making my words into worlds.

  Always keep your sights in the stars!

  A Starbright Novella

  AITAN’S REVENGE

  HILARY THOMPSON

  OFTOMES PUBLISHING

  FOR THOSE WHO BELIEVE VILLAINS

  ARE SOMETIMES HEROES TOO

  ONE

  There has been no substantial evidence or proof of Astrea being the real Starbright maiden. She has proven to be
a substandard student, incapable of curiosity about her situation, and her ethical decisions are selfishly-based. Nor has there been evidence of Lexan becoming any sort of significant prophet. Saloman tells me the boy hasn’t even had his first vision.

  These children are hardly the ones we have hoped to find, and it is time our actions as a community reflect my personal suspicion that the prophecy is, indeed, a hoax.

  First Leader Keirna’s Private Log

  A smirk keeps twisting onto my face each time I imagine just how Keirna got this new, lopsided haircut. But I’ve spent years learning to keep a blank face, so she never sees my disrespect.

  Healer Gloran is the healer that Keirna has kept closest, and the three of us are alone in this cramped room because nobody else can know the truth of what just happened. Gloran cautiously applies burn cream to Keirna’s hairline and left cheek, where somehow Astrea and my little brother flash-fired her. I’d love to throw that back in Keirna’s ruined face – her assumption that their prophecy was a hoax is now just as humorous as her new look. But with Astrea and Lexan gone, I’m afraid that truth will stay buried with Asphodel.

  I wonder which trusted someone was allowed to trim away the ragged, burnt hair and slick it with oil, even before treating the burns to her skin. Vanity first, it seems.

  Tuning my expression to respectfully concerned, I finger the dried blood on my neck while Gloran fusses over snipping bandages and wrapping Keirna’s face as gently as possible.

  “These will need to stay on for several days, First Leader,” Gloran says, finally stepping back. Her voice is timid. “I…I’ll need to change them often to make sure no infection starts.”

  “Very well,” Keirna says smoothly, and I can’t help but wonder why she isn’t throwing a fit. Either what happened with the prisoner was somehow part of a larger plan, or she is busy plotting a new one. Knowing her, it’s a bit of both.

  Gloran backs farther into the corner as Keirna stands. “Aitan, I thank you for your service today, and I regret your injury.”

  “Thank you, First Leader,” I say, bowing my head in a show of respect, even though it tears at my crusted wound.

  “Your role in directing the children to that hidden cavern was invaluable. I won’t soon forget your commitment and loyalty.” She turns to go, and I let out a full breath, my shoulders slumping.

  Of course she would use the word loyalty to gloss over the fact that I lost my brother today – not to mention the mind-numbing news that Asphodel just lost its chance at fulfilling the prophecy.

  But the door doesn’t close all the way, and Keirna steps back into the room, narrowing her eyes at us. “I only wish our protectors could be as trustworthy as you have both proven yourselves today.” With this half-hidden threat that she knows Gloran will spread, she finally leaves, slamming the door behind her. My heart jumps as Gloran’s fingers land on my neck.

  “This may require a stitch or two. Let me get some anesthetic cream,” she says, turning her back to rummage in a drawer. But not before I catch the fear in her eyes. Gloran has done nothing wrong today, but she senses the depth of the situation as well as I do.

  The cream works quickly, and soon all I feel is the gentle tug as she sews seventeen stitches across the slice in my neck. At least it’s not deep – but I did it to myself, so I made certain of that. The skin feels bruised though, where the stupid topsider actually tried to choke me.

  He was too wasted with Keirna’s drugs to see I was leading him right to freedom. Of course, it was a trap, as she had planned.

  But I don’t really care about the topsider. Just that Lexan escaped Asphodel today, alive. As I had planned.

  Gloran eventually releases me, and I move slowly through the rooms of the Healing Center, casually glancing in the open doors for any signs of Brenn or Jasson.

  Finally, I hear their hushed voices in Jasson’s office. I knock as I open the door, grimacing as I see the blood that has spread across more than half of Brenn’s tunic. That was not part of the plan.

  “He’ll be fine,” Jasson says, quickly answering the question I would never ask. “The wound was deep, and he bled too long, but the knife didn’t hit anything vital.”

  Brenn nods at me, his eyes guarded. He still doesn’t trust my motives. He’s smarter than most.

  “Astrea is safe?” Jasson asks then, a slight tremble in his voice.

  “She and Lexan escaped to the surface with the prisoner,” I confirm in a whisper. “I will continue to handle Keirna from my end. But she suspects Brenn,” I add, thinking of her comment regarding the protectors. “Surveillance will continue on both of you, I’m certain. Tie up any affairs you have outstanding. And keep your partner and children close.”

  I direct that last bit to Brenn, and his face hardens. Fear flickers across Jasson’s face.

  He turns to Brenn. “I’m sorry, my friend. I have brought trouble to your home.”

  “No,” Brenn says. “Keirna has brought trouble. But everything I have done, I would do again. If any of us are to be saved, Astrea and Lexan must be free to develop their powers.”

  They descend into whispered conversation, ignoring me again, so I slip out the door. I know they don’t really trust me, and I can hardly blame them.

  What I’ve worked for my whole life is not precisely aligned with what I’ve worked for today; I’m not yet certain if my gamble will pay, or if I will.

  The numbing cream feels like it’s frozen my brain as well. I can’t quite piece together the reasons behind Keirna’s actions, and I’m lost in thought and walking slowly as I round the corner of the hallway that leads to my front door.

  Then I see someone leaving my home. A male someone. And I know Anyel stayed home today, pleading a headache.

  All thoughts of Keirna dissipate as a special Arien brand of rage begins to rise, simmering just below the placid expression I’ve spent years cultivating.

  The man slips away down the corridor without seeing me. I wait just a few moments before unlocking my front door.

  Anyel appears in the short hallway, at least having the grace to look surprised to see me. She recovers quickly, though.

  We both know what’s been going on.

  “I wasn’t expecting you,” she says, blinking slowly.

  “Evidently not.”

  She looks everywhere but my eyes, embarrassed but not necessarily sorry.

  Then her eyes focus on the bandage at my neck and the blood that still stains my wrinkled tunic.

  I hate stains. And wrinkles. The thought of the coarse thread scarring my skin is enough to make me want to lock someone in a cell.

  And now her indiscretion?

  “Could you at least be more private?” I hiss, the first of a thousand questions bubbling in my mind. She flinches just once before gaining control over her own emotions.

  “What happened to you?” Her voice is angry and defensive as she ignores my question and swoops in toward me. She thinks she’ll distract me from what she’s just been found doing. I duck away from the grasp of her long, painted fingernails.

  “The prisoner escaped,” I answer, closing the door behind me a little too loudly. Her eyes widen and she comes at me again, managing to see the slight bruising around my neck and the edge of the white bandage.

  “Escaped?” she gasps. “But Keirna will be furious with you.”

  Of course that’s her first thought. Since I’m obviously not dying, Anyel is worried about our status and favor with her beloved First Leader Keirna.

  “Keirna is pleased with my efforts at apprehending the prisoner,” I answer, plucking her fingers off my collar and crushing them together. “Although he escaped, there is information you are not privileged to share. I did not fail her.”

  Satisfied, she tugs her fingers away from mine. She knows I’m forced to keep secrets from her – working for Keirna requires it – so she accepts my partial explanation. Plus, she knows better than to argue when I’m this angry. “I’ll press a clean tunic for you, t
hen.”

  I scowl as I watch her slim hips and long blonde hair swish out of the room, and when she’s out of sight I slump into a chair.

  I think we might have loved each other at first, at least in the way teenagers sometimes think of love. But it has never developed into the sort of love my parents had. Or even the sort Lexan has – however blindly – for Astrea.

  Instead, I chose Anyel as my partner because she supported my ambitions, even shared them. And her family was well-connected. I’ve always assumed she chose me for similar reasons, and seeing that other man leaving my home today confirmed that suspicion.

  But now that I’m here and he’s not, I just feel tired.

  I close my eyes and massage my temples, willing my brain to wake up.

  Another girl with long blonde hair sidles into my imagination, and I groan at myself. Regardless of any desire for revenge on Anyel, or any attraction I might feel to Lexan’s classmate Isa, I can’t just act on it.

  Keirna expects loyalty to her and my vocation only. If I were to become distracted by anything but Leadership, Keirna would remove that distraction.

  “Here.” Anyel interrupts my thoughts by shoving a clean tunic at me. “Will you be returning to the Leadership Complex, then?”

  I glare at her. “Do you have another appointment stopping by?”

  She blinks away from my eyes. “Just a friend coming over for lunch. Lisha,” she adds, a flush creeping into her cheeks.

  I shrug into the clean clothing and brush my hair back into place – trying not to imagine the gossip that will soon bounce off the walls of my home. “Yes, I’m sure Keirna will need to speak with me and the other Leaders soon. I might as well be accessible.”

  “I’ll have dinner ready at the usual time, then,” she says.

  I nod and head back out the door, feeling unwelcome. But instead of returning to my office, I begin the circuit of back hallways and interlinked rooms that more or less circles the entirety of Asphodel. I need to think.