Page 191 of Blood of the Stars

“Aeliana is central to everything,” she said. “I can’t leave her out of my plans any more than you can.”

He let out a huff. “And what are your plans?”

She ripped apart the bread even though her appetite was gone. “To find the starbridges.”

“What does that have to do with Aeliana?”

Orra smiled. “Maybe nothing.”

She took a bite of the bread without tasting it.

Maybe nothing. Or maybe everything.

Aeliana and Gaeren had already thrown stones and caused ripples, but they still had more to throw, more waves to cause. Orra was content to watch their ripples expand and move things in place to ensure maximum impact. That was the part she had to play.

“I know you’re after the starbridges,” Sylmar said. “It was all over Gaeren’s memories when Kendalyhn sifted his past. I didn’t trust you when you showed up, not when I knew what you’d done. But I kept you close, waiting for you to show your true motives. Only you saved Aeliana.”

Orra returned his stare, not even blinking.

“What will you do if you get them tomorrow?” he asked. “Why do you even want them?”

There were several answers she could give, but none she was willing to say. “You talk about how much motive matters, but say little of your own motives. Why are you so determined to remove Mayvus from power?”

Sylmar went still. She knew how he’d gotten his scars, and not just the ones dotting his skin. The more he dug for her secrets, the more she could expose his own.

He stood. “I’ll leave you to your brooding, then.”

As he walked away, Orra closed her eyes and tilted her head toward the Stars. Did they watch her from above? Did they still despise her for her choices? Or did they root for her to reverse what she’d done wrong?

“I’m not doing it for them.” She lifted the braid to her lips. “I’m doing it for you.”

She winced, still not sure if she had her motivation right.

CHAPTER 77

The next morning, Aeliana rose before the Sun.

They weren’t planning to leave for the Myndren Mountains until mid-morning, but she couldn’t fall back asleep. She sat at the edge of their camp as dawn approached, her gaze traveling over the hundreds of people she could see with thousands more stretching beyond them in the woods, all resting for maybe their last time in this world. She tried to remind herself that they’d planned to move forward with this attack long before she’d arrived. They pushed on out of loyalty to her mother and their country, not any loyalty to her.

But that didn’t lessen the weight on her chest.

If anything, the thought of her mother made the burden heavier. She hadn’t let herself think much about what success might mean, but now she let the hope of her family flood in and warm her from head to toe. The few glimpses she had from her childhood seemed almost brighter than when she’d first dredged them up for Velden, the faces clearer. But it was probably her imagination filling in the gaps, her hopes for the memories to solidify and become available in the present.

She patted her shirt pocket, making sure the vial of Durriken’s blood was still there, ready to soak in as much warmth and rays of the Sun’s light as possible.

Others around camp began stirring, forcing Aeliana out of her thoughts. She made her way to the war tent, and, without ceremony, she cut her palm and gave Sylmar a vial of blood. He tried apologizing, but she refused to hear it. She told herself it didn’t matter, that Jasperus wouldn’t need to use her blood because she had her own backup plan to brand Durriken.

But that still didn’t sit well with her either.

Gaeren stood at his bedroll two fires away, his eyes seeking out hers. He grinned and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, making it stick up more.

She supposed she ought to get this one last task out of the way. She picked up two purple strips of cloth and headed toward Gaeren. Several people greeted her, the awe she’d grown accustomed to in their eyes now clouded with the sober truth of what they planned to do in mere hours.

By the time she reached Gaeren, he was fastening the buttons of his new shirt—one of the uniforms Felk had given them. Her gaze dropped to the skin and hair of his chest, then to the fabric in her hands as her cheeks burned. “Do you have a moment?”

“Of course.”

She led him through the maze of bedrolls to the edge of camp, where they found a decent enough log. As soon as they sat, she tied one of the purple strips around his arm. It was one of the widest she could find, so it would hopefully be the most visible. She dreaded the thought of any of the soldiers being taken down by Felk’s friends, or even worse, Felk himself.

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