Star Eater

by Kerstin Hall

  “El, I need help.”

  I could see the page in Celane’s book about Haunts, the descriptions of their abilities. They appear able to accurately mimic human voices.

  “Finn?” I whispered.

  I was met with silence. I turned around. The path and the boathouse had vanished, all I could see were miles and miles of dead trees and pebbled shore.

  “Osan! Millie!” I shouted.

  My heart pounded in my ears. I had made a terrible, stupid mistake.

  This way.

  For the first time, I felt the compulse. I severed it, but new threads slipped past my defences, pulling me in different directions.

  This way.

  This way.

  This way.

  It could use lace. My only real defence, and it could wield the same power. Fear surged through me. What kind of Haunt was this?

  The Old Ones, Finn whispered in my mind, his eyes shining gold.

  This way.

  I forced myself to breathe. I was still within the bounds of the path’s protection, or I would be dead already. If I stayed calm, I could fix this.

  “El, please!” Finn screamed in agony. “Please help me!”

  “Not real,” I muttered, pressing my hands to my ears. Resisting the barrage of compulses made my stomach turn, and my sense of direction was rapidly dissolving. “You’re not real.”

  I took a step toward where I thought the boathouse should be, and water splashed under my boot. I jerked backwards. How was that possible? The lake should have been behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and found only more trees, more beach.

  “Eater,” I whispered. There was a roaring in my ears, growing ever louder.

  “El, what are you doing?” shouted Millie.

  I whipped around. Her voice would lead me to safety; I should go that way—

  With a curse, I severed the compulse again. My breathing came out ragged. At the corner of my vision lurked a presence, an abomination just out of my line of sight. It moved when I moved, melting from one shadow to the next.

  I breathed out. No panic. No mistakes. Although it went against every instinct, every terrified animal impulse, I shut my eyes. Slow down. I focussed, blocking out everything but the faint, elusive pull in the recesses of my mind.

  Even dreaming, even now, the Star yearned toward her temple. Like iron to a magnet, I felt drawn by the same invisible tie.

  The temple lay behind me.

  “Okay,” I muttered. If I could not trust myself, I would have to trust her instead.

  Once again, I turned and slid my foot forward. Water lapped up the side of my legs. I clenched my fists and took another step.

  “You did this to me!” Finn accused.

  The water rose to my knees, ice-cold and bitter. I kept my eyes squeezed shut.

  “You said that you loved me, El.” His voice was raw. “How can you leave me here?”

  “Not real,” I breathed.

  “Look at me! Look at what you’ve done to me!”

  I took another step, and another. The water came up to my hips. I wanted to flee back to the beach. This could not be right. The lake reached my neck.

  “I hate you,” he cried.

  I took a final breath and let the water cover me.

  The Old One howled. The sound cut through me, freezing the blood in my veins. I was choking, I was drowning, and still the howl rang out. It burrowed itself into my brain and erased everything but terror.

  I took another step, clutching my head, and suddenly the water was gone. I fell to my knees, heaving. There was blood in my mouth where I had bitten my tongue.

  The sound stopped.

  I could do nothing. I sagged onto the hard dirt of the path, and my body trembled. My clothes were dry.

  “El!”

  “Not real,” I whispered.

  Osan dropped to the ground and wrapped his arms around me. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay now, I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

  I buried my face in his shirt. His heart was pounding.

  “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “I was so stupid.”

  He squeezed my shoulders. “It’s all right now.”

  “I’m sorry I lied to you. I was trying to do the right thing.”

  “I know you were. Don’t worry about that, it doesn’t matter. Lean on me now, let me help you inside.”

  “I’m so sorry. You are my friend, Osan.”

  “Shh. Come on, I’ve got you.”

  I let him guide me back to the boathouse. The lake was placid and the air still, the night deceptively calm. Although I could not see the Haunt, I knew that it was still watching me.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  WHEN DAWN ARRIVED, we saw the smoke of their campfires.

  “They’re here,” I said.

  The thin grey ribbons rose from beyond the marsh. I strained my ears. In the distance, I heard the yapping of a Cat.

  We had doused our own fire hours earlier to conceal our location. In the morning light, the slopes of the mountains seemed much closer, and the marsh would slow our pursuers. But with Cats … I laced my boots and stood. It was going to be close.

  “Let’s get moving,” said Osan.

  The path looped around the edge of the reservoir. I could see my footprints in the mud above the waterline, evidence of where I had strayed last night. No Haunts had troubled us again after the incident, but I remained uneasy. A moment of thoughtlessness, and it had nearly cost me everything. I could not afford to make the same mistake again.

  The sun rose. Reflections gleamed off the water, dazzling our eyes. On my right, the land dropped sharply to a valley of dense scrub and bristling thorn trees; the vegetation growing denser toward the foothills of the mountains. The hair on my arms stood on end. There was an electricity in the air—even though the skies were clear, it felt like a storm was approaching. I knew Millie and Osan could feel it too: that tense, prickly tightness hanging over our heads. We moved without speaking, faster than yesterday.

  Too fast, thought a traitorous, stifled part of me.

  I wished my friends would talk. I didn’t want to think about the temple.

  By midmorning, we reached the far side of the lake, where a wide river drained into the reservoir. Our canteens were empty, and we drank directly from the rushing channel of water. The hills ahead were taller, scattered with huge circular boulders.

  “We won’t make it,” said Osan abruptly. He stared across the lake in the direction we had come from.

  “It’s not much further.” I followed his gaze. “It can’t be much more than an hour. If we run—”

  “Even then. They’re closing the distance too quickly; we have to do something to slow them down.” He glanced at Millie. “Kamillian, you’re a reasonable shot with a crossbow, right?”

  “I think so,” she said.

  “No, we can’t fight them,” I protested. “I don’t have enough lace to hold off one Reverend, never mind a group.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a fair fight.” Osan narrowed his eyes, still watching the path behind us. He nodded to himself, as if he had reached a decision. “Give me your bag, El.”

  I handed him my rucksack, expecting him to open it. Instead he slung it over his own shoulder.

  “Right, you’ll need to run.” He reached beneath his shirt and drew out his belt knife. “Don’t stop. We’ll buy you enough time to reach the temple.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  He pushed the knife into my hands. “Like I said, I have no intention of fighting fair. We’ll hide and ambush them, try to pick them off one at a time. If Kamillian and I keep our distance, their lace won’t be able to reach us.”

  “They will just close that distance.”

  “Then we’ll keep moving. Besides, with the threat of Haunts hanging over them, I think they’ll want to stick to the path.”

  “No.” I shook my head fiercely. “No, if they see you, they’ll break your neck in a heartbeat.”

  Millie ste
pped forward and hugged me.

  “You’re wasting time,” she said.

  “No.” I pushed her away. “I’m not leaving you. I can’t lose everyone!”

  She smiled, her eyes shining. “You promised to save Finn, remember? It’s not goodbye. I’ll be right here when it’s over.”

  She was lying; they were both lying. I felt like I was suffocating. I had not come all this way only to abandon them now. Osan grasped my forearms.

  “If you choose not to pay the debt, that’s fine,” he whispered. He drew me close for a second. “But you need to run, all right? For Finn, for Kamillian, for me. Run, Just El.”

  He let me go.

  “You can do this,” said Millie. “Go.”

  “It’s not goodbye,” I said, backing away. “Promise me it’s not goodbye.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”

  I turned, my heart breaking, and ran down the hill. I could hear Cats, their coarse braying calls ringing out in the silence. Stones skittered over the ground around me; I almost tripped, but caught myself and stumbled on.

  Make it count, Elfreda, whispered Cyde.

  The path curved sharply, drawing a red slash through the narrow valley. On either side the rocks stood like an honour guard, and the dark orange soil grew powdery, rising up in clouds of dust each time my feet hit the ground. I could hear Millie and Osan’s voices behind me; they had reached the valley floor.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. Stay safe.

  The Star’s consciousness flickered inside me, and the landscape stuttered as visions rippled through it. A sea of black blossoms burst open from the grass, then wilted in seconds and evaporated like smoke. With a crack, the path split in two. My foot caught on the edge of the fissure and I was sent sprawling.

  From the top of the reservoir, a shout rang out. I had been spotted.

  I picked myself up. Run. The ground trembled like an enormous creature disturbed from its sleep. Out of the cracked path, a seething mass of termites surged to the surface. Their bodies crunched under my feet, and still more kept appearing, emerging from the ground as the cracks branched and grew wider, pouring over one another in a furious river. From deep below, I heard a plaintive keening sound.

  Adrenaline powered me forward, and I pushed myself to run even faster. Ahead of me, where the fissure gaped open widest, a white hand emerged from the ground.

  I did not stop. The termites swarmed ankle-deep, biting, vicious, their tiny mandibles tearing at my calves. The pale hand gripped the side of the fissure and levered itself upwards. Drawing closer, I could see that it was composed entirely of buzzing locusts with chalk-coloured wings. Another hand groped through to the surface, crushing the termites in its path. Then the headless torso appeared, followed by legs and twitching feet. A grotesque parody of a body. The creature took a step forward, and its chest split open to reveal crimson ribs like teeth, stretching outwards to devour me.

  I ran straight into it.

  The locusts swallowed my arms, their sharp legs scratching my fingers, wrists, chest, face. Blind, I fell through the creature and out, beyond the limits of the vision. Locusts clung to me, but I slapped them off, then dropped to the ground and rolled, crushing those that remained. My legs streamed with blood from hundreds of bites.

  “Deal with your own nightmares,” I snarled.

  I staggered to my feet and when I raised my head, I saw the temple for the first time.

  The building looked like it had grown right out of the rockface—the yellow walls curved and melded to the cliff at its back, and the roof rose high and peaked. Empty rings marked where there had once been stained-glass windows. At the temple’s base, the river coursed like a living creature, hissing and wild, the old bridge long since washed away. Smaller buildings clustered at the water’s edge, all of them overgrown with vines and trees, their foundations obscured by sheets of long grass.

  The path of grace ended a hundred feet from the river, red soil crumbling into earth and grass. My stomach sank. The distance was too far; the path’s protection would not shelter me all the way. In this last stretch, I would be exposed.

  With a fervent, wordless prayer, I broke into a sprint.

  My world narrowed to just the temple, to just the shining, sunlit curve of the arched entrance, and my lungs emptied. I had no thoughts, no fear, no pain. I moved like light.

  Declan Lars caught me.

  I never heard him. He slammed into me from the side, taking us both down. With a crack, I felt one of my ribs break. I gasped and thrashed, but he was twice my size and far stronger; we tangled and he wrapped his hand around my neck. His touch was cold enough to burn me.

  With a growl of victory, he sank his teeth into my shoulder.

  I screamed. Lars’s face contorted in ecstasy, golden eyes shining, his pupils small as pinpricks. The agony increased; my vision went white. I tried to weave a net, but my tainted power was slick and slid away as I reached for it. Blood bubbled up in my mouth.

  Lars’s teeth drew free from my shoulder. I struggled to rise, and he grinned, rows of unnaturally long teeth glistening. He clamped his hand down on my forehead, holding me still so that he could rip my throat out.

  “Please,” I choked. “Please don’t.”

  Just as I had been taken by surprise by his attack, Lars failed to see Finn until it was too late. His teeth grazed my skin and then he was thrown off me, slamming into the ground.

  Finn had changed. His spine was bent and the skin on his face had turned colourless. He jerked me to my feet and pushed me toward the temple.

  “I’ll deal with him,” he said, his voice like sandpaper, tongue struggling to form words. “Go.”

  He released me and flung himself back at Lars. The two collided with shattering force.

  I clutched one hand over the gushing wound on my shoulder, and lurched toward the river. The world glowed; I smelled incense and metal and decay. Visions danced through the air. Behind me, I heard Finn and Lars snarling, the crack of breaking bones. One of them screamed in agony.

  I waded into the water, breathing heavily. Hot blood seeped over my arms and chest. Not much further, not much further. The current unbalanced me—I slipped on the algae-streaked rocks and went under. Cold water rushed into my mouth. I floundered back to the surface, gasping, and scrambled up the bank to the far shore.

  Lace coiled around my limbs, freezing me in place.

  “Elfreda,” said Celane.

  No!

  “Don’t be afraid.” I heard her splashing through the river behind me. “It will be over soon.”

  I drew on my lace and cut through the Reverend’s nets. I stumbled a few feet further, and Celane paralysed me again. She stood tall and proud, a little flushed from the chase through the valley, and the glow of victory shone in her eyes.

  “Enough,” she said.

  She was so strong; her lace wrapped around my legs like steel bands. No, no, no! I felt sick. This could not end here; I had not come all this way to be martyred here. She reached the shallows, and I sliced through her nets again, crawling away on my hands and knees. She followed me.

  “It’s all right,” she said, her voice soothing. “I know you’re scared, but this is necessary. You know that, don’t you, Elfreda?”

  Her expression was almost tender; she looked at me with a kind of pity, like I was a child to be punished. Look what you’ve done, said her eyes. Look at the mess you’ve made. My defences buckled beneath the force of her power, and I was frozen, unable to move. She drew a scalpel from her pocket.

  “No,” I gasped.

  “I understand.” Sunlight reflected off her hair; she briefly appeared radiant, holy. “But this is too important, and your actions have already cost us too much.”

  I bared my teeth in a snarl. “You’re one to talk.”

  “Generations of Sisters have given up their lives to protect our home.” She advanced. “Don’t spit on their sacrifices.”

  I threw lace at her head, but my
power bounced harmlessly off her defensive net. Celane’s face hardened, glittering with droplets of water from the river.

  “You know your duty.” Her lace wound tighter around me. “Think of your mother, your grandmother. Think how proud they would be.”

  “Shut up!”

  “They gave everything for you.” She shook her head. “You can’t possibly be selfish enough to throw that away.”

  “Don’t you dare”—my voice trembled with rage—“talk about my mother.”

  Celane’s eyes bored into mine, and she recognised my hatred; the deep, bloody depths of my heart, the burning core that would never bend to her will, to the Sisterhood’s will, to the will of the Eater.

  “I wanted to offer you the chance to redeem yourself,” she said, and for a moment she sounded sad, even though it didn’t show on her face. “But so be it. I will restore the Order myself, and save Aytrium.”

  Not here. Not when I had come so close.

  I let go of all my protective nets and wove the last of my power into a single rope. I thought of Asan at Geise’s Crown, I thought of my lace catching Osan’s foot in the Gardens, I thought of everyone who had ever underestimated me. One last gamble, one last chance. Celane smiled, assuming my power had run dry.

  “You will save no one,” I whispered.

  I hooked the rope around her ankle and yanked as hard as I could. Shock crossed Celane’s face; she had not thought to shield her legs. Her foot slipped on the slick river rocks, and she fell backwards. Her lace tore loose around me. Freed, I lunged after her. With the full force of my body, I drove Osan’s knife through the water and into her chest.

  A rush of air bubbled from her mouth, and her power knocked against me, wild cords of lace lashing my arms. I let go of the knife handle, and Celane surfaced, drawing a shuddering breath. The river ran red around her. She convulsed. Her lips turned scarlet.

  “Eater,” she gasped. “Eater, help…”

  She choked, her hand closing on the handle of the knife. Then all the force seemed to drain out of her body. Her face went slack.

  I did not move. At any second, I expected her to rise out of the water. Her scalpel shone in the shallows, and her hair washed across her face. Her body swayed with the movement of the river.