Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  “And what will she truly sacrifice by working for you?” I say without thinking. My mother would not help Keirna unless her personal gains were great.

  “She gains satisfaction from helping the community. And, of course, privilege for her family.”

  And there it is. Mother has traded her life for Pasia’s, and probably mine. Just like Chanah traded her life for Astrea’s. I’ve been bowing to Keirna in hopes of keeping my family safe, and then she goes and does this.

  Keirna nods her head and slips away. Pasia looks up at me, the fear in her eyes laced with indignation. “You’re becoming more like her. She sees that. It makes her happy.”

  “Pasia…”

  “No, Aitan. I know what you want. But you don’t have to be like her to get it.” She wipes her cheeks, gives me a sad smile, and leaves my office without another word.

  I sigh deeply and lean over my desk, massaging my temples. Keirna is still First Leader – and her ruthlessness could turn on me in a second. How can I lead the people through this and protect my family if I don’t do as she asks?

  I have even more reason now to be the faithful servant. Right up until the final moment of revenge.

  My brain is slow and dull, so I push away from the desk and begin to walk. The hallways are emptier now – four hundred people are above ground. Nearly a quarter of our population.

  A palm-sized rock cracks to the floor in front of me, and dust settles in the air. I glance around, noticing the floor is rolling just a bit. This earthquake is small compared to the last one, but it is real.

  I swivel and head the opposite direction – right to Saloman’s office, where I should have gone first.

  When I reach his door, I hear shouts and commotion inside. His two apprentices are scuffling in circles around him as he rants – trying to figure a way to calm him. Saloman waves his arms and shrieks, accidentally backhanding the boy.

  “The very elements are rebelling! The maidens must be found…only the maidens can tame the elements and save us!” he shouts.

  I wave the apprentices away. “Get out of here. Tell nobody.”

  They nod in terror and scatter.

  Saloman is pacing the room with steps so rapid he is almost running.

  “Perhaps this is normal for the elements – we have no way of knowing what the earth has been doing for the last one hundred years,” I say in what I hope is a reasonable voice.

  “No. No, no, no. Astrea is fire, and Lexan is air, and there is a dark girl with power over the dark earth. But where is the water? And how will they ever unite?”

  He continues to babble and mutter under his breath as I stare at him. Crazy old fool.

  “Lexan is not a maiden,” I point out drily. But Saloman just waves his hands at my words, brushing them out of the air. The floor rumbles again, and a few books topple from their shelf.

  Saloman moans and holds his head in both hands.

  “Have you seen another vision?” I ask, prompting him.

  “Yes! No – this prophecy is older than that of the maidens. But intertwined…yes. It all makes sense now!” he cackles. I glare at him, and he runs his hands through his hair.

  “We are not in danger from Keirna and the people left above – the very earth will vomit us out of its bowels!” His voice ends on a howl, and I cringe.

  “Look. Lexan and Astrea will return and we can figure this out. How long do we have?”

  “The prophecy is not exacting in its time, foolish boy!” He begins wandering again, although he appears to be looking for something.

  One of the books on the floor has spilled its pages, and he swoops down to retrieve them. “Yes. Here it is…” he mutters, spreading the loose papers across his desk. One of the papers floats back to the floor, but he doesn’t move to catch it.

  I bend down, but as I straighten, I notice he is frozen, his gaze locked unseeingly on the air before him. His eyes are now murky and glazed. His mouth hangs open.

  “Without fulfillment of the Starbright maiden’s prophecy, doom will come for mankind. Before the great eclipse, the world’s fate will be decided. The elements will crack open the earth and swallow the Garden. The four must unite…” his voice trails away, and his body slumps over.

  I rush to catch him and help him to the chair.

  Gradually, he comes back to reality, blinking slowly.

  “What was the vision, boy?” he whispers, his voice hoarse from yelling.

  “You can’t even remember your own prophecies?” I ask in aggravated amazement. No wonder Asphodel is in trouble. I grab some paper and scribble the words. He snatches it from my fingers.

  “Yes, of course. The elements are four. The maidens must be four. Not three – but why did I prophecy three?” He pulls at his hair again, and I wonder how he has any left.

  “Maybe something changed,” I offer, with undisguised sarcasm. Everything has changed.

  “Hmm. Yes, perhaps. Keirna’s force must be balanced. Another maiden must be needed to counter her.”

  “So are all of these maidens from Asphodel?”

  He shakes his head. “That’s not the way the universe works, my boy. They will be scattered across the land. The people must unite them and save themselves.” He stares at me for a long moment. “We are only given the tools of Fate. It is up to us to learn how to use them so our race can continue.”

  “What should I do?” I ask, almost to myself.

  Saloman chuckles softly. “Begin your revolution, dear boy. That is one thing which has not changed.”

  I nod and wait. He says nothing else, only shuffles through the loose papers until they are sorted again.

  “Go away,” he says without looking up. “Asphodel must not rise, Aitan. If we do, our people may be lost forever to the war of the elements.”

  I don’t enjoy the sound of this, and I mull over the elements as I walk toward the Leadership Complex. Air – tornadoes, storms. Water – floods. Earth – the quakes we’ve been experiencing. And of course, fire. None of these have ever damaged us inside the safety of the cave.

  But outside…we will be defenseless.

  I suddenly realize why I’ve been so reluctant to move against Keirna. The revenge I’ve sought so blindly is not taking her life in payment for my father’s life. It’s not even wresting control of Asphodel from her grip.

  My destiny is to stop her plans to move us topside.

  Astrea and Lexan have been gone less than three weeks, but they will return one day soon to judge her soul. When she’s gone and my family is safe again, I can become the Leader I’ve dreamed of, and the Leader Asphodel deserves.

  Saloman may be a confused old man, but my world has suddenly clicked into focus.

  Every decision I make seems dangerously weighted, and I’m never sure which direction the scale will tip. But of course my life is dangerous – I’m trying to steal one woman’s city and another man’s partner, while protecting two independent women.

  At the end, I’ll be lucky to be breathing.

  EIGHT

  The night outside the cave is different from the night inside. Almost as alive as the creatures that come out to pay homage to the Goddess Moon. The darkness itself surrounds me, breathing like a living being. I feel its tendrils wrapping my arms, welcoming me home.

  I may be a worshipper of the sun, but I am also a daughter of the moon. There is good and evil in all things, and every creature has its unique purpose. Outside in the damp air of early morning, when the darkness mingles with the light, that’s when I see my purpose most clearly, painted on the milky horizon.

  The Goddess Moon has shown me how these trials with the elements are merely tests of my conviction and endurance.

  I may not be a maiden, but I can to save Asphodel.

  First Leader Keirna’s Private Log

  Over the next two days, Keirna pushes the men to new levels of production. They are spurned on by the fears of Asphodel collapsing – entombing their loved ones in rock forever.

  A
dmittedly, the idea has me working even faster, too.

  I have spent the two nights feverishly reading Lakessa’s journals, then Firene’s. Piecing together a plan for a new Asphodel. When I manage to destroy this flimsy new religion and neutralize Keirna, I will need a speech ready.

  The very people who obey her out of fear her will be quick to turn on me.

  On the third morning since the work force was doubled, Keirna steps into my office early. “Yesterday we finished building the main walkways, so the mud is no longer an issue. The Common Building is complete inside and out, although the winds tore off sections of the roof. Those will be repaired today. And frames for the first Living Quarters are standing, ready for walls and roofing.”

  I nod. “Impressive. So the elements are retreating?”

  Her face darkens. “Our earth is not moving against us – my partner is a fearful old man who jumps to conclusions. I have read the books – this time of year is always full of rain and wind.”

  I decide not to mention the earthquake, or the small aftershocks we’ve had each day since.

  “We could begin moving families in a few days,” Keirna adds.

  I widen my eyes at her optimism, but I only nod and smile. She has managed to create shelter, but I doubt there is little in the way of comfort outside yet. “Perhaps I should see the facilities myself, so I can rally the people here.”

  Keirna nods. Her excitement over realizing her plans has actually made her more agreeable. An hour later, I’ve toured the whole site. It’s less impressive than Keirna hopes, but it will soon be enough to begin moving topside.

  I glance down at my clean shoes, noting she was right about the walkways at least.

  Gesturing to a nearby cluster of twenty or so young men, Keirna says, “When you return, you will take this group with you – allow them to see their partners and promised partners for a few hours in the Common Area. There is celebrating and gossip to be done now, in order to spread the excitement.”

  I resist rolling my eyes at her crass plan to reunite partners in order to spread goodwill for the project. I’m not ready for people to become excited about moving topside.

  But I lead the group back into the caves, just as has commanded. I’m even less thrilled when I realize that one of these young men is Dalen. I overhear him boasting about seeing Isa, and my mouth turns sour.

  I head toward him, thinking to pull him aside for some random purpose, when two protectors rush past me – they’ve just re-entered the cave, and they’re carrying a limp form.

  I pivot and hurry after them, entering the Healing Center only a few steps behind.

  “Aitan!” one of them calls, seeing me. “It’s your mother!”

  My heart drops, and I shove into Gloran’s room, desperate to see Mother. She lays on the table, unmoving. Her head lolls to the side.

  “What happened?” Gloran demands, yanking her cart of tools closer.

  “Snake!” the protector huffs, trying to catch his breath. He reaches in his pocket then, and pulls out the tail of the serpent. Gloran gives a little shriek and jumps back.

  “It’s dead, ma’am, sorry. I thought to identify it…”

  “Leave it there and go,” I manage, waving the men out of the room. “And find my sister, Pasia!”

  Gloran is hunting through a cabinet, searching for an antidote. She curses under her breath as she glances back at my mother. I notice the bite on her arm then, two angry red dots surrounded by skin turning an angry red, with streaks of bluish-green.

  “Be right back!” Gloran half-shouts as she runs out of the room.

  As the door slams, Mother’s eyes flutter open, and she focuses on me.

  “Aitan,” she whispers.

  “Shh,” I soothe her. “Gloran will heal you. Lie still.”

  She shakes her head. “Keirna tricked me…”

  “What?” I bite out, glancing again at the snake.

  “She promised me…but she is the snake. The snake in the Garden…” Mother giggles, and I wonder if the venom is making her delirious. Then she sits straight up, grabbing my collar and pulling me close.

  “Aitan, I have watched my husband die. I have borne my Lexan’s banishment. But Pasia will be happy, if she can live for her child. You could be happy too, if you give yourself permission. Give it, Aitan. Be happy. Take what you need – even if it’s a life.”

  She releases me and collapses on the pillow, eyes closed. Her breaths come slowly.

  I stare at her in frozen disbelief. My gentle mother, who dislikes even culling the weaker plants from her plots in the Growing Rooms. Telling me to take a life. As I stare at her, my vision of her seems to shift and click into focus, just as before with Saloman.

  My strong, unyielding mother, who lost her partner and her son to a woman who is nothing but evil.

  Her eyes open again. “Aitan, in war, people kill to protect their country. Their loved ones.”

  “And this is war,” I whisper, understanding.

  She smiles gently. “Keirna will fight back. It is not a murder if your heart’s purpose is true. It is an assassination.” Her fingers close around mine and grip tightly for several seconds as she watches me with so much love.

  Then, as I stand there helplessly, her breath clogs in her throat. Her neck arches, her eyes widen in pain, and the life passes from her. The light and love fades from her eyes until she is no longer my mother, but simply a broken body on a white bed.

  I turn away, my heart pounding. Grief is shoved aside by the necessity of forward movement – if I focus on her death, I will never leave this room.

  If I focus on her life, I will find a way to destroy Keirna.

  I know I’m not a fighter. I haven’t been trained in killing like Brenn, or even in defense Astrea and Lexan. But I have to do something. If her complex is realized, the people will not want to leave Asphodel. They will see no need to flee toward the safety of the Garden.

  Keirna’s plan has doomed us all.

  I must destroy her complex, and her with it.

  Isa’s blue eyes slip through my mind and I smack the wall with my palm. She has to make it to the Garden. I’ll never forgive myself if she and Pasia are doomed because I’m too selfish or too afraid. If Mother’s sacrifice is for nothing.

  I start for the door, my brain a swirl of how, and must, and can’t, and will.

  Gloran barrels through as I open it, but I don’t even stop to tell her she’s too late. I don’t stop to see if Pasia has been told.

  I head straight for the Leadership Complex, and the door buried within that will lead me topside.

  “Bring Keirna to me!” I yell at the first protector I see in the meadow. I make my way into the Common Building, searching for her private living quarters. They will be finished – she would furnish her own comfort first.

  Tucked into a corner of the Common Building, I find a locked door. Nearly growling in frustration, I kick at the door until the bolt rips from its screws.

  The room is small, but furnished with a bed, desk, chair, and chest of drawers. A vase of orange lilies rests on the dresser. Another door at the far end is closed – it’s locked, too, but I don’t waste time with it.

  Too late, I realize I didn’t even think to grab a knife from a protector or a gun from the cabinet of ancient weapons. The only weapon I have is the rage burning in my chest.

  But reaching into my pocket, I find that I have exactly what I need – matches, still there from the last time I spoke with Isa in the Ministration Room. It seems fitting, and I smile as I strike the first.

  I may not have fire inside of me, like my Arien sister. But I can still call fire – the way humans have done for centuries.

  I drop the tiny flame onto the blankets covering the bed, and watch as it spreads in all four directions. A compass of fire, spinning me toward my destiny of revolution.

  “No!” Keirna’s voice screams behind me in rage. She lunges to grasp the vase of water and flowers, and I hurl myself at her. My fist
connects with her cheekbone and she shrieks. But then her nails scrape deep grooves into my neck, tearing at the skin where my stitches were.

  I shove at her grip, but her fingers tangle in my shirt, then my hair. I rip the bandages from her face, and she claws at my eyes. She is smaller than me, but she has trained for many more years than I have, and it’s rumored that she fights with the enhanced strength of her injection.

  Then I see a glint of silver as she yanks a small dagger from her waist. The blade stabs at my outstretched hand, piercing the skin through, but I overpower her arm. Pinning her wrist, I wrench the knife handle away from her and pull it out of my palm with a roar.

  I raise it above her, ready to strike, but I hesitate a fraction of a second as Mother’s words echo back at me. Assassination should be colder than this – this is the fiery rage of revenge. Murder.

  Keirna doesn’t hesitate, however, and as she snatches at the knife, it slips and skitters away under the bed.

  We wrestle for several stretched seconds before I kick out at the dresser, knocking the vase to the floor. It shatters, the water puddling uselessly on the wooden planks before seeping between the cracks.

  I glance up at the flaming bed and shout in triumph. A muffled answering shout echoes from another room, and Keirna is distracted enough to loosen her grip. I push away from her, leaning against the dresser, and wrapping my palm in the edge of my shirt to staunch the bleeding.

  The bed is now fully aflame, and the fire is licking at the walls, which are wooden. Soon they will be at the ceiling, which is wooden. And the whole building is connected to other wooden buildings with wooden walkways.

  “You have built a wooden palace on a foundation of mud,” I manage, my breath coming in short spurts. I reach into my pocket and withdraw another match, striking it awkwardly with my injured hand before tossing it beneath the dresser.

  Keirna’s bloodied face contorts in shock and rage. “You will die for this,” she grates out, shoving herself up. Quicker than I thought possible, she snatches a large shard of glass and darts forward to slice at my chest.