The Starfire Wars- The Complete series Box Set

by Jenetta Penner

Instead of Vihann, a vision of a woman I don’t know enters my mind. As I lock onto her gaze, something about her pale skin and long, dark, ringlet-tipped hair feels familiar. Despite my confusion, I reach my hand toward her, and she offers a soft, sad smile in reply. She touches the tips of my fingers and her eyes swirl with cyan, but I’m not afraid. She cups the sides of my head and pulls my forehead to hers. When we touch, a burst of energy races through my body. I gasp and my eyes open to the Starfire field in front of me.

  I know what I must do.

  “And you’re sure this will take us to Paxon,” Simmons asks.

  Max, Dad, the other three Senate members, and I stand at the edge of the Starfire field.

  I straighten. “I am.”

  And I do know. I trust the strange woman and the instructions she gave. I’m sure I’ve met her before. I’m just not sure where.

  “This Starfire field links to another near Vihann’s village,” I say. “The coordinates I gave my father should open next to their field, and the energy will mask our presence. Best not alarm the peaceful Alku to how so many humans are suddenly on Paxon.”

  “It will also be wise to let Vihann know we’re planning to open a portal to Earth from the Intersection,” Max says. “I’ve been around many leaders in the last two years. If you don’t build trust, then you have nothing.”

  Max keeps his distance from me but offers up a tiny smile. His words sink in my chest. Max is still here, loyal as always. But I broke his trust, and we both know it.

  “It’s worth a shot,” Gray says. “I’ve seen more than my share of just as unlikely events these past few days. Why should this be any different?”

  “And Mr. Norton is right,” Simmons says. “There are situations where a measure of trust will get you farther than you expect.”

  “The portal coordinates are set,” Dad says.

  Guilt weighs on me, and I shift closer to Max. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “Sorry for what?” he asks.

  I pinch my lips together for a second. “You know what.”

  A muscle pulses in his jaw. “It was stupid of me to tell you how much I liked you.”

  “I like you too.” I step closer to him, but he backs away from me.

  “But not that way. I get it. You have feelings for Javen. I don’t know why after what he’s done. But whatever. It’s okay.” Max focuses on the shimmering portal as it materializes and ignores my pleading look. After a few agonizing heartbeats, he takes a step toward the group.

  I open my mouth to tell him it’s not okay . . . because it’s not. I was wrong to kiss Max if I hadn't figured out my feelings for Javen. I was selfish and never should have treated a friend that way. And he’s right—Javen tried to kill my dad. But I know it’s not Javen’s fault. I close my mouth, knowing nothing I say will take my and Max’s kiss back.

  Dad waves me toward the portal after the Senate and Max have already stepped through. “You ready?”

  I grin at him, pushing down my regret for a later time. “Team Foster.”

  Despite the gravity of our situation, Dad’s eyes light with hope. “Always.”

  I hold my breath, clasp his hand, and then step through the portal with him.

  The scene on the other side is much the same. A Starfire field stretches out before us, just as the Alku woman in my vision said it would. Paxon’s sky is more cyan than that of Arcadia, but everything else about the landscape is similar. The mirrored copy of the Tahm range sits to the west, and my instructions indicate that Vihann’s village is about a ten-minute walk east.

  “This way.” I gesture with my head and lead everyone away from the field. “Vihann knows Dad and me. So, I think I should head into the village and the rest of you should wait outside of the town with Dad, in case something goes wrong.”

  “Cassi,” Dad protests. “We should all stay together.”

  “I’m confident he’ll accept me and listen,” I reply. “These Alku are not aggressive because they haven’t been exposed to the Mother Starfire. But I don’t want to spook them. I’ll explain who you all are and then you can come down. Everything will be okay.”

  Dad reluctantly agrees, and we walk the rest of the way in silence. I would have expected the Senate members to protest more, but maybe the situation frightens them too much.

  Over a small hill, Vihann’s village spreads into view. The town looks much like Irilee, and honestly, if I didn’t know it was a different place . . . Though something about this village is familiar. I gnaw the inside of my lip. No, I’ve never been here before, even if my gut believes I have.

  “Good luck,” Senator Ward says as I make my way down the hill.

  It will be okay, it will be okay, I repeat to myself, though my roiling stomach begs to differ. I tuck my arms across my chest and enter the town. The first person to see me is an Alku woman with a child in tow. Her eyes widen, and she pulls her son close to her side.

  I clear my throat. “I need to speak with Vihann.”

  The young woman points down the center road of the village, lined by Alku dwellings.

  “Thank you.” I bow my head slightly to show that I’m no threat to her or her child.

  As I walk down the road, I pass several other Alku, their faces void of expression save the slight flare of their eyes. I look around at the organic structures, and a heaviness in my gut tells me once again that I’ve been here before. But I haven't—

  A pulsing headache coils around my temples. I grimace against the pain as the woman with the pale face and long, dark hair flashes into my vision.

  “Not far now,” she says.

  I suck in a sharp breath and then she’s gone.

  The headache fades and I blink. Ahead of me is a small, single dwelling. One I’m positive is Vihann’s. But how would I know?

  When I arrive at the door, it’s cracked open. “Vihann?”

  “Hello, Cassiopeia. Welcome to Azmar,” a deep voice says from inside.

  My breath trembles as I open the door wider. And then I see him. Javen’s father. Sitting on a rustic wooden chair next to a dining table.

  He gestures to an empty chair across from him. “I've been waiting for you.”

  My heart quivers. Our plan for the Alku to not be able to sense our presence must have failed. My thoughts immediately shift to Dad and the others waiting on the hill.

  “You sensed me here?” I ask.

  Vihann shakes his head. “Visions. They told me you would arrive soon.”

  I study his soft eyes. So much about Vihann reminds me of Javen. An ache for the boy I care for pangs in my chest.

  “We . . . we need to speak with you.” I choke out the words.

  Vihann glances around the room and then to the still-open door, an eyebrow raised. “We?”

  “My dad and a few others are waiting on the hill over the village.”

  A gentle smile curls at the corner of Vihann’s lips. “I am relieved that your father is alive. I feared the worst for him. He and your mother were a light of hope to us. They’re the reason we even agreed to open ourselves up to humans.” He smile dips into a frown. “But the choice has not turned out to be positive for the Alku.”

  At the mention of Mom, my hands shake, and I smooth my palms over my pants. Does Vihann know Mom was half-Alku?

  “I think our alliance still could turn out positive,” I say. “Everything is terrible now, but neither of us has much to lose by helping each other at this point.”

  I tell him what I had to do to contain Javen. The whole story makes my stomach roil.

  “You did what you had to do to try to save my son.” Vihann places both of his hands on the tabletop and folds them together. “The Alku have everything to lose. You’ve seen for yourself what has happened to Javen and Wirrin. This is a tiny glimpse of what my people used to be. And now that we have been exposed to technologies that could take my kind all over the universe, the Alku would have the capability to destroy many civilizations with the help of the Starfire.”
>
  I lean back in my seat. “More civilizations?”

  “Of course, Cassiopeia. Even after meeting the Alku, you’ve never considered there could be more populated planets?”

  When training on terraforming with Dad, I often thought about other potential planets to inhabit. But I never spent much time thinking about intelligent alien life on those planets. “It’s a lot to take in,” I finally answer.

  “And now you know how I feel,” Vihann says, sighing. “I would rather let our people die than to allow our legacy to become one of violence and greed. We had our chance, and we failed.”

  “Javen and Wirrin are already changed. And the Starfire from within the Intersection has been let loose. If you do nothing at this point, the outcome would be only violence.”

  Sadness pulls at his face farther before he draws out two words: “I know.” Two words that match the despair swimming in his eyes.

  I place my hand on top of his.

  The moment we touch, Vihann’s gaze snaps to mine. “Your Starfire bond with Javen has been broken.”

  “Yes,” I admit.

  “But even without the connection, your attachment persists,” he whispers.

  “Yes,” I repeat. “I once doubted that our connection was real. But now our bond is gone, my feelings for him have grown. Our bond has a purpose, and that purpose is bigger than us.”

  Vihann furrows his brows.

  “We can set all of this right,” I say. “Or we’ll die trying.”

  Chapter 8

  “Bring your father and the rest of your people to me,” Vihann says.

  My heart skips in my chest, and I lean over the table toward him. “Does this mean you’ll help?”

  “It means I would like to see your father alive again, and I am willing to talk.”

  My excitement flatlines. Still, his answer isn’t a no. That’s something. I push away from the table and the chair’s legs groan against the compacted dirt floor.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I say and then race out the door, through the town, and up the hill.

  Dad, Max, and the Senate members still wait where I left them.

  “What did he say?” Dad asks.

  “He’s willing to speak with you,” I say through panting breaths.

  Simmons steps toward the path I took. “Then there’s no time to waste.”

  Everyone agrees, and we make our way down to the village. More Alku appear than before and watch us travel toward Vihann’s. I point Dad toward the dwelling ahead and then trail behind the group slightly, watching each of the Alku faces. A small child steps forward, a long, single white braid draped over her left shoulder and eyes swirling with cyan. Warmth fills me when she approaches. A soft smile tugs at the corners of her lips until a man, who may be her father, pulls her away. I watch for a few seconds as they disappear inside a dwelling and then swing my attention back to my group, who are already nearing Vihann’s home.

  Max looks back and waves me forward, and I jog toward him.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “I got distracted,” I say.

  Max gazes around. “This place is pretty amazing. I see your draw to the Alku.”

  I start to speak, but Max clears his throat and rushes through Vihann’s door behind the others.

  Inside, Vihann greets Dad with a handshake. Javen’s father still has an air of worry about him, but his warm smile is all for Dad.

  I hang in the doorway as Dad initiates all the introductions. Vihann invites everyone to sit around the table. An Alku woman with white waist-length hair and pale skin slips around me from behind. She’s on the Alku Council. I remember her from the first time I met Vihann. She takes the final seat at the table.

  “Thank you for your willingness to meet us, Vihann,” Dad says. “I know this is a difficult time for you and your people.”

  The woman nods. “This is a difficult time for all.”

  Shuffling near the door draws my attention. A pair of eyes, belonging to the girl I saw on the street, peek around the door’s edge. When she sees me, she zips out of sight.

  I turn back to the others. But something tugs at my mind, telling me I need to talk to her. I catch Max’s attention and mouth that I’ll be right back. Max raises an eyebrow but nods and returns to the group’s conversation.

  I slip out the door and spot the girl running around the corner of Vihann’s dwelling.

  “Stop,” I call out in a breathy tone, trying to keep my voice like a whisper. But the child doesn’t stop. I round the corner as she ducks behind a cluster of bushes.

  My heart sinks into my stomach. I don’t want to scare the kid. I glance around to check if anyone is searching for her, but there’s no one other than her and me. Most of the Alku who were on the road a few moments ago have either returned to their homes or left.

  I walk to the bush and peer into the child’s now-brown eyes.

  “What’s your name?” I whisper as I kneel to her level. She must be around eight. Being an only child, I didn’t hang out around a lot of younger kids, but occasionally I would do a little babysitting to earn extra funds. One of the kids I sat for was about her size, and he was eight.

  “Laina.” She darts her eyes around and then grabs my hand.

  The second her fingers interlace with mine, my vision fills with cyan. I gasp as the color clears.

  “You know you are the one,” she says in a flat tone.

  I gape at her. “The one?”

  She tightens her grip on my hand. “Yes. Follow me.”

  Before I have the chance to agree or disagree, she pulls me around the rear of Vihann’s dwelling to a forest situated a hundred feet away or so.

  “I . . . I really need to get back, or people may come looking for me,” I say. “I can’t leave the meeting!” But Laina pays no attention to my protests and continues tugging me into the trees. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To see Zarah. It’s time for you to remember.”

  As soon as the words leave Laina’s mouth, my mind flashes with a series of images. A young and devastated Vihann, a baby in the arms of a woman, and another woman, the same one who led me to Vihann’s home, with dark hair and swirling eyes who reached for my forehead.

  My lungs heave in shock as my eyes shoot open. I didn’t even realize they had closed. The forest has changed. The trees and undergrowth are thicker, and only a few feet away from where I now stand is a small cottage. Laina pulls at my hand once again.

  “Inside,” she says.

  My mind races with what I’ve just seen. I remember this woman. Her name is Zarah, and she’s Javen’s mother. She died. No, I thought she might have died, but I have no proof. But she was sick after giving birth to Javen . . .

  I gnaw the inside of my lip as the memory settles fresh in my mind. The Starfire had shown me the time following Javen’s birth, and then somehow Zarah—or the crystal—made me forget.

  I wriggle my fingers free from Laina’s. “What’s going on?”

  “Last night Zarah told me to bring you here when you arrived in the village.”

  I tilt my head. “But how could anyone know I was coming?”

  “The Starfire told her.” Laina grabs my hand again and tugs. The hinges creaks as she pushes the door open.

  “Shouldn’t you knock?” I ask.

  “She won’t answer.” The girl steps in and I follow her.

  “How do you kn—” But then I see why. Inside is a single room, and on the floor is Zarah. She’s laid out on a pillow-like bed, facing up. Her eyelids are closed and she looks peaceful, but I know something is wrong.

  “Is she asleep?” I ask.

  “Zarah is always asleep.” Laina releases me and closes the door behind us. “We mustn’t take long. Her nurse will be coming to check on her soon.”

  My brows pull together. “Has Zarah been asleep for a long time?”

  “Eighteen years.” She shrugs. “But I haven’t been alive that long.”

  I kn
eel at Zarah’s side and touch her smooth, silky hair. If she’s been asleep for eighteen years, then someone takes excellent care of her. There’s not a snarl in sight among the strands. “How do you know she wanted to see me?”

  “Zarah visits my dreams. My parents don’t believe me, so I stopped talking about it with them.”

  Laina plops next to me and sits, legs crossed while leaning her elbows into her knees and cradling her head in her palms.

  “How does she eat?” I mutter.

  “The Starfire takes care of everything for her.”

  I sit back on my heels. “But why doesn’t the power heal her?”

  The girl shrugs. “Never told me. Maybe she doesn’t know either. The Starfire has its own mind.”

  I glance at Zarah. Now that’s a fact I know is true. The Starfire does have a mind of its own.

  “You’ll need to take her hand. It’ll be the easiest way for her to communicate with you.”

  A shiver runs down my spine, and I don’t make a move.

  Laina peers up at me as though her instruction is the most natural thing in the world to do.

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you have to,” Laina pleads.

  A tingling in my gut whispers that she’s right. But it still doesn’t mean I want to listen to her—or my gut. She’s eight . . . or whatever. What does she know?

  “How old are you?” I ask.

  Laina pinches her lips together. “Old enough—and you’re stalling.”

  “Maybe you’re trying to trick me or something.”

  She lets out an exasperated sigh and grabs my hand. Then she places it into Zarah’s.

  My instinct is to pull away from this woman since the Starfire obviously did something to damage her. But once I touch her skin, every apprehension falls away. This is Javen’s mother, the woman who should have raised him but couldn’t. He never mentions her, and there must be so much pain in his heart to have not shared her with me.

  My head lightens, and the room suddenly spins, my body lost in the carousel. I release a silent scream as I stop at the edge of a cliff. The world is cyan again, like in the Intersection, and I twist my head around to see where I am. I’ve been here—with Javen. No. My lips press into a line. This is the place from my dreams after the explosion on the Pathfinder, after Javen saved me. He was never really here. All I experienced was in my head. At least, I think it was.