Starbright: The Complete Series

by Hilary Thompson

  I look down in a sort of slow surprise, pain compressing my lungs like a band of fire. The red lines seeping down my tunic paralyze me. I’ve never seen so much of my own blood.

  Laughing softly, Keirna drags herself to the doorway, saving her own life at the cost of the complex.

  She pauses to look back at me, grinning. “They used to say ‘burn in hell,’” she rasps, coughing from the smoke that is beginning to fill the room. “But I imagine we’ll meet again sooner than that.”

  “The elements will rip you to pieces,” I say, forcing myself onto my knees and hands. I stumble to my feet, and her eyes flash in fear for a tiny second before filling back up with rage. The movement only makes my wound bleed faster, and I begin to panic. Another muffled yell comes from somewhere behind me, and a smile spreads across her face.

  She looks like a child delighted with a new toy.

  “I was wrong about you, Aitan. You are a killer,” she whispers. “Well done.” She flees the room.

  I wrap my arms around my chest in an insane attempt at keeping my blood inside my body.

  She’s wrong. I’m not a killer – I had my chance, and I didn’t do it. The room behind us is filling with smoke as I turn to shut the door, thinking to force the fire up, into the roofing.

  I have a few more matches in my pocket still.

  Of course she would run like a coward, taunting me with incomprehensible mutterings. I wouldn’t expect anything less. I stumble into the hallway, determined not to die in this building.

  It’s too late that I pinpoint the noises and yelling.

  The locked door at the back of the room vibrates with the shouts of someone trapped. Whoever is inside will soon be burning alive.

  “Jasson,” Keirna calls back to me, with a grin that returns her face to triumphant. She slips out of the Common Area.

  My heart stops cold in my chest. Jasson. Astrea’s father.

  I lurch back into the room, but the heat of the flames shoves at me. I stumble, falling back to my knees just as the roar of the fire becomes louder than the agonized voice.

  Then the voice dies away all together, and my stomach heaves as I try to push myself up.

  I have taken a life, but it was not the one I intended.

  NINE

  Aitan’s training is not finished yet, but he has made very good progress over the last few days.

  There are still too many people he cares about – people who could compromise his rational decision-making. I’m afraid I will need to push him a little harder to overcome these weaknesses.

  First Leader Keirna’s Private Log

  I’m being carried.

  I think.

  Arms are strung beneath my arms, and my feet are half-walking, half-dragging. My eyes don’t seem to be working right, and I keep coughing. My chest aches inside and out.

  I’m hauled up and thrown down, and a metal clanging noise fills my ears.

  Then everything is quiet.

  Several minutes later – or longer? – I open my eyes and try to rub the grit away.

  I’m in a cell. Back underground, in the tomb that is Asphodel. In the Asphodel that will be my tomb in the ground.

  I smile, even realizing it is insane to smile.

  “You have no tolerance for my medicine, young Arien,” a voice says. A voice I have grown to know so well. Hate so well.

  Keirna, I think. But my mouth doesn’t want to open. My tongue is a hard, dead, chalky thing in my mouth.

  “Drink this. It’s only water.”

  Something cold is poured between my lips and it spills back out the other side. But my tongue loosens a little. More water is poured in, until I choke and cough and finally swallow.

  I rub at my eyes, and the extra water helps clear them.

  Looking down, I see how dirty I am. I hate dirt. And wrinkles.

  “You successfully burned the Common Area building. But we will not be defeated by such a false, selfish leader. You, Aitan, are simply a little boy who has lost his mommy. And now you will lose everything else.”

  She turns and walks away, a door slamming somewhere. I am alone in the room of cells. All empty, save for mine. This is a rarely-used room deep in the Leadership Complex, not one of the two public cells. Nobody will know I’m here.

  Eventually, a protector brings me some food and more water. I eat a few bites, although I know it will be laced with hallucinogens. I’ve been on the other side of these interrogations often enough to know how they plan to break me.

  Hopefully I’ve learned enough to withstand what they will bring.

  But they bring nothing. For days and days they bring nothing. At least, I think it’s days. I have no way to tell time here.

  The wound on my chest was stitched together, hastily by the looks of the crooked stitches. I wonder if Gloran did it. I don’t remember anything.

  No. That’s not right. I remember the screams. Jasson, I think, and the guilt washes over me.

  Astrea and I are both now orphans.

  But while she left Asphodel to become stronger, I stayed behind. And became weaker.

  Finally, Keirna makes another appearance.

  “How long,” I say, my voice creaky with disuse.

  She shrugs. “Long enough to rebuild some of what you destroyed.”

  “And the rains?” I smile, my lips cracking a little.

  She glares at me, and I know the elements still rebel. “Winds, too. A few of the men swear they even saw a tornado.”

  I laugh softly. “The earth will swallow us whole, and we will be back underground where we were supposed to stay.”

  “No,” she says, her voice firm. “Your training is nearly complete. You have one test left to survive.”

  I sit up straighter in my cell, my muscles cramping at the movement.

  She watches me, her head tilted to the side. “Do you know where my strength comes from?”

  “All the people you kill?”

  Her eyes narrow. “Some cultures believe that. But Asphodel’s founders were always a little more…science-based.”

  “The injection,” I say.

  She nods. “I know you’ve read my journals. Lately, I’ve been writing them for you to read. So you know I gave myself the Starbright serum.”

  “How does the injection work?” I ask her, wanting her to continue talking. It’s evident now that she is keeping me alive for some reason. So I must gather what information she is willing to drop.

  “It only works perfectly on those babies born on the spring equinox. Jasson was very helpful in my experiments – I didn’t even have to ask. I just observed as he unwittingly killed two of his own children. See, if the injection is given to the wrong baby, it takes the life, and the baby dies.”

  “But you survived?”

  She nods. “If the injection is given to an adult, it also takes the life. But the adult is stronger, so the body does not die. Only the heart.”

  “I always knew you were heartless,” I say, without a trace of the smile that should accompany such a joke.

  Keirna provides the smile. “True. The injection killed all of my natural, weak emotions, leaving only my strongest desires.”

  “Power?”

  “Of course.”

  “Love for Saloman?”

  She shakes her head. “I would enjoy giving you the injection, so you could never again feel love. But I won’t just yet, because I want you to feel the pain of loss. And you’ve definitely lost, Aitan. This was always my game to play, and mine to win.”

  She stalks out of the room.

  Minutes later, or maybe hours later, Keirna returns. A guard follows her, carrying a limp form draped in a sheet. I clench the bars, trying to see any identifying features.

  “This girl is special to you, yes?” Keirna asks, her voice cold and indifferent as she lifts a corner of the sheet.

  Isa.

  I try to remain blank-faced, but anguish spreads over me too quickly. “What did you do to her?” I whisper.


  “For now, she’s just sleeping. But she will join you here, in the cell next to yours.”

  “For what crime?” I’m yelling now, standing and pressing my body to the bars.

  Keirna shrugs. “That is not your concern. This, however, is.” She draws a hand from her pocket, and I see a syringe filled with a golden, shining liquid. She holds it up as the guard places Isa in the cell next to mine and locks her in. He turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

  I stare at the syringe, wondering what hell Keirna has dreamed up for me now.

  “This is the famed Starbright serum. Not widely famous, actually, for very few know of its existence. This is your future, Aitan, in this tiny vial of gold.”

  “Now you want me to be heartless too?” I ask, sagging against the bars as I watch Isa breathe, lost in an empty world of medicine.

  “Of course. Here is your choice.”

  My eyes snap back to Keirna’s. We are still playing. Even though she’s won, we’re still playing a game.

  “Your first option is to take the injection yourself, as I did. It will erase your feelings for the girl, and your grief for your family. You will become a great Leader because you will make decisions without the crippling emotions you carry as a burden now.”

  I nod. This is the choice she wishes me to make. Perhaps I could – life would still be life without emotion. Easier, even.

  “Your second option is to save the girl. She will still serve a brief sentence here in the cells, but then she will go free.”

  “She is sentenced to death?” I ask.

  Keirna shakes her head. “No. But sometimes a prolonged sentencing in the public cells proves to be too much for a person to endure. A few have gone mad, and a few have fallen to that madness – taking their own lives. I believe your Isa would do the same.”

  “The shopkeeper,” I whisper to myself. Keirna narrows her eyes, but she doesn’t respond.

  “Your decision, Second Leader Aitan?” she asks, using the title I’ve certainly lost to taunt me.

  I try to evaluate the situation clearly and logically, but all I can do is stare at Isa’s slumped form. How can I not save her? She’s done nothing wrong.

  I’ve always wanted to be a good Leader. A powerful one, but a good one. Effective. Efficient. But always, always, respected and trusted. If I take the injection to save myself, I will no longer care about the individuals in Asphodel – only the community as a whole. I will feel no love for Pasia or Isa. No grief for Mother.

  That is a way to rule – not to lead.

  “Let her go. That is my decision.”

  “You would give up your Leader position for this girl? Even though you can never have her love?” Keirna doesn’t sound surprised, but she doesn’t sound angry either.

  She steps toward Isa’s cell and unlocks the door. Her steps echo as she enters the tiny space.

  I realize too late that Keirna sounded amused.

  “Since you are incapable of making the correct decision, I will intervene.” She brandishes the syringe and pushes the liquid into Isa’s arm even as I suck in a breath to yell.

  Isa’s body jerks to life, and her eyes spring open. She looks around wildly, confused.

  “Isa! Isa, it’s okay,” I call.

  Keirna steps back out of the cell, chuckling to herself. “Not really,” she says. Isa claws at the spot on her arm and whines, a low growl of a sound.

  “It burns now, but it will stop soon,” she says to Isa before turning to me. “You have made your choice. You have saved the girl, and she will be free to go when her time is complete. But she will never love you again. You, Aitan, will be a slave to emotion forever. Isa is the one who has been freed today. Perhaps she would like to become Second Leader.”

  Keirna pivots on her heel and leaves the room, slamming the door. I watch helplessly as Isa thrashes on the floor of her cell, the injection coursing through her body. I call soothing words to her, but I don’t think she can even hear me.

  Gradually, she calms. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she pushes her blonde curls out of her eyes. She turns her head to stare at me, and it feels like a punch.

  Isa’s beautiful blue eyes are hard and cold and unfeeling. She recognizes me, but she doesn’t see me – not the way she once saw me.

  She has no emotion for me. No concern, and certainly no love. Those clear eyes narrow, turning calculating, like Keirna’s.

  “Why are you here? Keirna should have killed you by now.”

  “I…”

  “Never mind. I’m hungry. Have they brought food yet?”

  As if on cue, the door opens and a guard enters, bringing two trays of food. Isa eats methodically, not rushing, but obviously enjoying her belly being filled.

  I choke on the first and only bite I try to take.

  When she finishes, she pushes the tray aside and wraps herself in the sheet, closing her eyes. Within seconds, she is asleep again, breathing the soft breaths of an easy, dreamless sleep.

  I feel like I might begin vomiting and never be able to stop, until I’m disgorging my very stomach and blood and bile.

  When she wakes, I am still staring at her through the bars, trying to figure out how to reach her. Does the serum leave any room for emotion to grow again?

  “Tell me about the complex,” Isa says, stretching her neck.

  I haltingly tell her what I know, and she asks methodical questions, until the whole story is drawn from me.

  She leans against the bars, her eyes still calculating. Tabulating. I can tell by her expression that I’m coming up short.

  “You should have killed her when you had the chance. Now all of Asphodel will either rise, like Keirna wants, or die, like Saloman prophecies.”

  Just then the door opens, and a guard enters. Without a word, he opens Isa’s cell and waits for her to exit.

  “Goodbye, Aitan,” she says, casting me one final glance before walking straight out of the room.

  I wonder if that good-bye meant anything to her.

  It meant everything to me.

  I close my eyes and shut my heart to everything I have lost. In giving Isa the serum, in allowing me to kill Jasson, in killing Mother, Keirna has won. My emotions leak away as the days pass without the comfort of night.

  The guards who bring my food and water tell me how the doors to the outside world are opened each afternoon now, and the people of Asphodel move back and forth, gradually leaving a life underground for a life under the stars.

  I, too, have a new home – a bird in a cage in a semi-dark room. My wings are clipped and tagged first with grief, and then the absence of grief. I have nothing left except dead memories of the past and stunted dreams of the future.

  I imagine I will be forgotten down here one day, as all of Asphodel moves topside. Even if Lexan returns, Keirna will only claim I am dead. And I will be, my bones decaying here in this same cold cell.

  Then, one morning, just as the guard brings my meal, a bird flits silently into the room, perching high above me. The man doesn’t even notice. When he leaves, I stare at it in wonder. Has the outside world become so intertwined with our cave world that birds will venture inside our fortress?

  Gradually, the bird grows brave, and hops closer and closer to my cage, flying up at my face and away, only to repeat the process. Finally it manages to get directly before me and hovers, seeming to stare straight at me.

  I’m becoming a little unnerved by its behavior when I notice how its shiny brown color is not quite natural. And then it opens its beak. There is a red light inside its open mouth – definitely not natural.

  I flatten my palm and offer it. The bird closes its beak and flutters down to rest in my hand. Its wings snap shut with a decidedly metallic snip, and then a tiny slip of white paper slides from a slit near its throat.

  Glancing around in paranoia, I grasp the paper and pull it out. Name, it reads, in tiny blocked lettering.

  I hesitate, wondering where the bird could possibly be from –
nobody in Asphodel possesses this strange sort of technology. But curiosity wins, and I speak my name. A whirring begins inside the bird’s body. It jerks lightly, and more paper appears.

  Message from L.

  I nearly drop the bird in my excitement – it has to be Lexan. My brother is alive!

  Another scroll of paper unrolls from the robot, and I see the symbols Firene created in her journal, and which Lexan, Pasia, and I have had memorized for years.

  Just then I hear footsteps, and I shove the bird and its message into my pocket, where it struggles briefly before going still, a lump of nonliving metal.

  But it will move again, and I will live again.

  This bird is a message from my brother, and when he returns to Asphodel, I will be ready with a new plan, and a heart that still beats, but which has hardened just enough to do what is necessary.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  As this series gets closer to its last book, the list of people to thank grows both longer and more special.

  To David and my babies, for helping me learn to prioritize, but understanding that writing will always be on the list.

  To Cecily, Kayla, and Corrina, whose unwavering support is both balm and motivation. I hope I can inspire a few young writers the way your enthusiasm has inspired me.

  To my family and friends, for spreading the word about the Starbright series, and continuing to ask what’s next.

  To the LitWits and my OCHS family. Thanks for asking me to share more – sometimes I need that reminder.

  To my cover designer, Najla Qambar. Your beautiful designs keep my ideas on track.

  And always, so many thanks to my readers. Imaginary worlds are infinitely more fun when you have a few real people to play with you. If you’ve made it this far, you’re in for a treat with the upcoming finale, Destiny Risen!

  Keep your sights in the stars!

  THE END