Veil of Stars: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 17

by Galenorn, Yasmine

  * * *

  Angel:

  She woke from her long sleep. Something was wrong—something was terribly wrong. A wave of fear washed through her, propelling her out of her slumber. As she shook her head, looking around, she saw that it was midday, and she rose out of her lair by the side of the river, squinting in the sun. The light beat down with a steady glow and Myris stretched and yawned, basking for a moment in the warmth. Then, curious as to what had brought her out of her long sleep, the naiad sat on the edge of the river as she scanned the waterway.

  Myris closed her eyes, focusing on the fear that raced through the water. It was caught in the waves and bubbles, churning in the whitecaps that frothed at the edges of the current. Then she pinpointed the emotion—tumbling through the water from upstream. As she probed further, she caught sight of a young woman caught in the river’s rush to the sea.

  She dove deep, swimming along as her feet transformed into fins and her hair streamed around her like tentacles. She usually ignored victims caught up by the river but today, the compulsion to save this girl was so strong she couldn’t ignore it. Myris took her orders from the Water Mother and they were clear and strong: Save this one. Catch her and bring her to shore.

  Myris positioned herself mid-point in the river, and called to the water to give her strength. She wove a net, forcing the water into a barrier of woven bubbles and froth, freezing it into immobility around her. And so when the girl rushed toward her, the water stilled and Myris was able to slide her arms under the girl’s arms and swim backward to shore.

  She dragged the girl up on the shore beside her and listened for breath. There was none, so Myris quickly pressed her lips to the girl’s lips and kissed her, breathing air into her lungs, pressing on her chest to force the water out. And as she gave the breath of life, she also breathed the breath of water into the girl, and so bound the girl to the Water Mother.

  After a moment, the girl took a tentative breath on her own, and opened her eyes. “What…where…”

  “You were in the water. I brought you out. What’s your name?”

  “Iya,” the Fae girl said, and then she took Myris’s hand and raised it to her lips. “You saved me, and I am forever in your debt.”

  Myris felt a stirring. There was a familiar connection as the girl touched her. Myris had lived alone since her mother deemed her old enough to leave the nest, and she had swum far and wide, searching for a territory to call her own. But now, she realized how lonely she was, and as Iya kissed her hand, a dam inside her heart broke, and she began to cry.

  * * *

  Ember

  I stared at the water nymph. Naiads were rare among the Fae. They were from the Light Fae family, as was I, but they were bound to nature more than I was. But now, as I gazed at the river, I felt the need to sit on the bank and watch the world go by. I loved the water—I always had—but even though I had almost drowned, it occurred to me that I didn’t like life in town, and that I wanted nothing more than to live in the woodlands, in a cabin of my own, and spend my days walking in the forest, with the roar of the water lulling me to sleep at night.

  I was still holding the naiad’s hand, reluctant to let go. There was something about her that felt familiar and comforting. “What’s your name?”

  “Myris,” the naiad said, watching the river. “You owe me no debt. I follow what the Water Mother tells me to do.” Then, shyly, she added, “I’m glad she told me to save you.” She paused, then added, “I’m lonely. I never knew it, but now…I do. I’m lonely out here.”

  Something about her tone pierced my heart and tears welled up in my eyes. “I understand. I’ve grown up around so many people, but I’m lonely too. I’ve always felt like I was searching for something, for someone, but I didn’t know why or who.”

  A memory came back to me, from when I was around five. “My mother told me once, when I was young, that we were all born with half of us missing. She said that if we ever found our other half—the half that made us whole—we would know, even without words. And if we found our other half, to never let go. That a twin soul is a bond deeper than love, deeper than friendship. And nothing—not marriage, not other friends, not careers, would ever sever that bond if we could but find it.”

  Myris squeezed my hand. “My mother told me the same thing, shortly before I left the nest.” She cocked her head and gave me a dazzling smile. “And you…”

  “You are my twin soul,” I said, finishing the sentence for her.

  That day, I moved to the riverside, and called on a few friends to help me build a small one-room cabin. I had found my twin soul and I’d never walk away from her. And that day, we made a blood oath to the Water Mother that neither marriage, nor other friendships, nor death itself would ever separate us again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The room came into focus as I opened my eyes, yawning. I was still holding Angel’s hand. I gave her a little shake and she opened her eyes. As we sat up, an odd sense of time displacement swept over me, but I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs, and scooted so I was sitting back against the headboard.

  “And so, you see. Do you understand your connection now?” Morgana asked.

  Angel let out a slow breath. “I was a naiad once?”

  Morgana smiled. “Yes, and you answered to Great Mother Ocean.”

  “We’re twin souls…” I tried to take in the news. I hadn’t thought much about the concept of twin souls before. I hadn’t been sure if I even believed in the theory, but the emotions of that meeting were still ringing inside me and every doubt swept away. “Angel is my other half—my twin soul. When were we divided?”

  “That goes back in time beyond my ken. But I suspected you were connected in this way. When a soul divides for the first time, it’s usually through some trauma. While that soul can never become ‘whole’ again, when it meets its other half, there’s a sense of completion and the search for what is lost ends.” Morgana shrugged. “Now, you see why I offered to plead your case with the Triamvinate.”

  “I understand now. Before I met Ember, even though I was very young, I always felt like something was missing from my life. I didn’t know what, but I knew it wasn’t a thing…it was something entirely different. Mama J. used to tell me to quit worrying. That I’d find what I was looking for.” Angel bit her lip. “How many lives have we lived together?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Morgana said. “But my suspicions were confirmed when Ember told me how afraid she was of losing you when she becomes a goddess. It made sense—once she’s immortal, she stops reincarnating. And—knock wood it won’t be for a very long time—when you pass and return, that may fray the connection.”

  “And if I ascend to deityhood?”

  “Then you will forever remain connected.” Morgana motioned for us to get up. She turned to Angel. “Think about it, then let me know if you would like me to plead your case.”

  Angel reached out for my hand. I took it, wanting to beg her to say yes. I couldn’t lose her—especially knowing that if I did, it would probably be forever, but it had to be Angel’s choice.

  “I’ll think about it,” she murmured.

  Morgana stood. “Good. You have time. Just don’t get yourself killed before then.” With a smile, she withdrew from the room.

  I glanced at Angel. “Well, at least we understand.”

  Angel nodded. “I—” She paused as the door opened and Herne entered the room.

  “Get dressed. Viktor and Sheila are having an impromptu wedding.”

  “What?” I jumped up. “But—”

  “But nothing. They can’t get married back home, not with what’s going on. So we decided the hell with it. Lady Brighid is in the palace to talk to Cernunnos and Morgana. I approached her and asked if she would officiate. She’s happy to, but we have to hurry. She can’t stay long.”

  I stared at the closet. “What will we wear? The bridesmaids’ dresses weren’t ready yet, so they’re back on Earth.”

&nbs
p; At that moment, a woman appeared by the door. “The Lady Brighid sent me to fetch Lady Ember and Lady Angel. I’ve come to take you to the seamstress.”

  Raven was standing behind her. “Apparently we’re getting dolled up, thanks to Cernunnos’s court.”

  “Seamstress? How is she going to make three dresses in such a short time?” Angel asked.

  “She won’t. I’m sure there are a number of dresses available and they’ll find ones that fit the three of you. Go now, Talia’s waiting there, as well,” Herne said, waving us off.

  Feeling like I’d been thrown into an ocean of emotions, I grabbed Angel’s hand and, together with Raven, we followed the servant down the hall, into a chamber where a crew of seamstresses worked away. I wasn’t sure whether they served Morgana or Cernunnos or both. They were all in a flurry, with racks of dresses everywhere. We could have been in a store, for the size of the place. Sheila was there, looking equally dazed.

  “Congratulations!” I said, waving to her as one of the Elfin women pointed toward a spot near her work table and told me to strip. “Are you thrilled?”

  Sheila’s gaze darted around the room as she said, “Yes, but also in a state of shock. Everything that’s gone on in the past week or so has left me feeling caught in a tailspin. I don’t know how to deal with all of the changes.”

  Angel’s laugh rippled through the room. “Let them be. Walk through them with as much equilibrium as you can. That’s what I’m doing.”

  “Do you mind that your wedding’s so rushed?” Raven asked.

  Sheila shrugged, wincing as the seamstress barked an order for her to hold still.

  It occurred to me that Sheila didn’t speak the language. “She wants you to hold still,” I said, translating the “request.”

  “Yeah, well, she can stop poking me with pins,” Sheila countered. “I suppose I should be grateful I’m getting married in a wedding dress at all.” She was wearing a beautiful gown that reminded me of a Celtic renaissance fair dress. It was the color of pale pink rosebuds, with a knotwork trim and a long sash that rode easy on her hips. The seamstress was tucking it here and there with a few stitches. Another woman was weaving a wreath of red roses and white carnations for Sheila’s hair, which had been brushed to a glossy sheen.

  The seamstress attending me held up a simple but beautiful sheath in a muted sage color. It had an empire waist. As she slid it over my head, I caught sight of Talia, who was wearing something similar, in the same color. Within less than twenty minutes, Angel, Talia, Raven, and I were decked out in similar gowns that complemented Sheila’s wedding dress.

  Sheila looked spectacular, and the rose-and-carnation wreath sat atop her head.

  “I’m sorry your family can’t make it,” I said.

  She shook her head. “Most of my family is scattered to the four corners of the Earth. We’ve never been close. Viktor and I have that in common. I’ve asked Talia to be my maid of honor, and I’m so grateful the three of you are willing to be my bridesmaids.”

  “We’re happy to be included,” Angel said. “Viktor means a lot to us—we’re just grateful you found each other. You’re our friend too, now.”

  When we were ready, the woman in charge of everything handed Sheila a huge bouquet to match her wreath, then handed Talia, Raven, Angel, and me smaller bouquets of white carnations and fern fronds. We were led out of the frenzied sewing center and through the labyrinth of hallways to the throne room.

  A red carpet had been rolled out and a portable archway had been erected, marble columns holding up the arch. Decorated with ivy vines, white carnations, and red roses, the columns and archway were draped with a pale pink length of material.

  Cernunnos, Morgana, and the Lady Brighid were standing near the archway, talking together. To one side of the arch, Viktor waited, wearing black trousers, a green tunic with a white sash, and black boots.

  The half-ogre beamed as he caught sight of Sheila. Herne, Yutani, and Kipa were standing beside him, dressed in similar outfits, acting as Viktor’s groomsmen.

  Morgana caught sight of us and hustled over. She was wearing a pale green gown, gossamer and sparkling. Brighid was dressed in a long velvet green gown, and even Cernunnos was wearing ceremonial garb.

  “Well, are we ready?” Morgana asked.

  Sheila nodded. “I am. I’m just… I wasn’t expecting this. I guess I thought our wedding would have to be put off.”

  “No need for that,” Morgana said, grinning. “In fact, though the wedding’s rushed, given that Brighid only has so much time before she has to leave for home, the celebration will continue through the afternoon and the night. I have the staff setting up a feast in one of the adjacent ballrooms, and you can meet a number of the members of Cernunnos’s court, and also my court. They’re used to coming here for holidays. And now that Ember will soon be joining our family, she and Herne will have to establish a hold of their own. We may just pile the holidays on their plate.”

  I froze. A hold of our own? For some reason, I had expected that we would end up living with Cernunnos, but now I realized that Herne probably already had his own home here in Annwn. This was his father’s palace.

  “If you’re ready, then let’s get you married,” Morgana said, hugging Sheila. “Congratulations, and I hope you and Viktor will be happy. You seem well suited.”

  And with that, she organized us, with Talia, Angel, Raven, and me standing in front of Sheila.

  Sheila leaned forward to whisper to me, “I feel like a war bride. You know, how they would rush to marry their soldiers before the men shipped out.”

  “In a way, you are a war bride,” I whispered back. “Only we’re at war with the dragons this time.”

  “Right,” Sheila said, then fell silent as a flautist began to play from near the archway. The music was light and delicate, romantic and yet magical.

  Talia headed toward the arch, one step at a time, with Angel following her, and me after Angel, and then Raven coming last. Behind Raven, Sheila began to walk down the aisle, her eyes on the arch where Viktor waited for her. There were no other guests there, but it didn’t seem to matter. Angel, Talia, Raven, and I split off to the left side, standing near Morgana.

  Viktor held his hand out and Sheila took it as they stepped in front of Brighid, who stood beneath the arch. Morgana crossed to them and wrapped a braided cord around their wrists, gently knotting it once.

  Brighid stepped forward, placing her hand atop the knotted cord. “Marriage is a sacrament entered into for love, for fealty, in honor and dignity. Love crosses boundaries of race, lineage, and sex, and so I joyfully unite those who come to this crossroads freely, of their own consent, without guile or agenda, without malice or greed.”

  She looked at Viktor, her eyes reflecting the light of the lightning flits that fluttered around the room. “Do you, Viktor, pledge your love and devotion, your life and all acts of sacrifice and generosity, to Sheila, and do you promise to be her wedded mate, bound by the will of the gods, for as long as love shall last?”

  Viktor turned to Sheila, still holding her hand. “I do.”

  Brighid turned to Sheila. “And do you, Sheila, pledge your love and devotion, your life and all acts of sacrifice and generosity, to Viktor, and do you promise to be his wedded mate, bound by the will of the gods, for as long as love shall last?”

  “I do.” Her voice was a soft murmur.

  “Then to each question, assert your answer, together. Will you hold and trust your mate in both health and in sickness?”

  In unison, Sheila and Viktor pledged their assent. “I do.”

  As Brighid went through the rest of her litany, they answered “I do” to each question.

  “Do you promise to support one another, to help when the other stumbles, to celebrate when the other soars, to comfort during mourning, to rejoice during joyful days?…Do you promise to honor your mate, to help when needed, even as you stand independent in your own self?…Do you promise to protect and provide for one an
other, to share the burdens as well as the joys?…”

  As the ceremony continued, I fell into a light trance, mesmerized by Brighid’s voice. What I wouldn’t give to hear her sing, I thought. And then, I began to wonder about my own wedding. I knew it would be lavish—Morgana and Cernunnos had made that clear. And I realized that every question being put to Sheila and Viktor were ones I would answer myself, that I would be happy to pledge myself to. A weight fell away—that last worry about whether I was ready to marry Herne.

  “Hear me now, as you stand witness to this union. I, Brighid of the Fiery Arrow, do join you, Sheila, and you, Viktor, in marriage, as long as your love shall last. If you choose to part, you give oath to do so honorably and with respect for the journey you have taken together. If you stay together till your dying days, then you may choose to continue forth into the Summerlands together, still united.” She began to unwind the handfasting cord. “I now pronounce you married—husband and wife under the sight of the gods.”

  After Brighid gently folded the cord, she handed it to a servant who wrapped it in a silk case and placed it on the altar table behind the goddess. The flautists took up again, a merry tune this time, and Viktor pulled Sheila into his arms and kissed her. Flustered, she laughed and waved her bouquet.

  “Time to party!” Viktor roared. “Come, bride, let us raise a toast to the gods.” He turned back to Brighid. “Thank you, Lady Brighid, for making this possible and for gracing our wedding day. We’ll forever be grateful and never forget it.”

  Sheila thanked her next, and Brighid leaned down to kiss them both on the cheek. “My pleasure, but now I must run. Have fun at your celebration. And don’t forget to take your handfasting cord with you. Keep it safe, for it’s a charm to protect your household.”

  As she went on to make her good-byes to Cernunnos and Morgana, the rest of us crowded around the happy couple. Viktor and Sheila were blushing, both looking incredibly happy, and I realized that even the most beautiful garden party in our yard wouldn’t have been any more special. They had been married by a goddess they both honored, in a ceremony that was as sacred as the very hall in which we stood.