Page 208 of Blood of the Stars

“It’s too late,” Sylmar said, his voice weak. He leaned his forehead against the wall, his lips dry and face pale above his beard.

Riveran gave Gaeren a nod, then turned. Gaeren caught glimpse of a glint of steel before the final stones fell and cut them off completely. Silence echoed around them, choking Gaeren as much as the dust settling over their bodies.

Gaeren fell to his knees, vaguely aware of his sudden weakness. They’d cut Riveran off along with the enemy, possibly burying them all alive. Their deaths could come at the hands of soldiers or even other sailors in the chaos. All because Gaeren had wanted to protect himself.

“Your actions have given the others a chance,” Sylmar rasped out, patting Gaeren’s back, likely more for his own support to stand than to comfort Gaeren. “We’ve given Aeliana and Emeris a chance to stop Mayvus. We’ve given all of Vendaras a chance at freedom.”

His words stirred up the dying embers in Gaeren’s chest. They hadn’t lost everything yet. He’d made promises he needed to keep. A promise to himself to protect Daisy, and a promise to Daisy to kill her if need be. He stood on shaking legs, pulling Sylmar up beside him, reaching for the staff the man had lost.

They slowly made their way down the hall toward the others.

It was time to break one of his promises, but he still wasn’t sure which one.

CHAPTER 83

Beyond the battlement, Orra saw the northern keep where it practically grew out of the mountain. She’d been present when this keep was first built, after the split of the family of Elanesse. It had started as a refuge for Valyn Elanesse, but as her piety grew and the threat on her life lessened, it had turned into a Sungazer. She and Willem Wyndren had settled down, content with their life as servants of the Sun.

Their descendants had chosen different paths, growing bitter over the throne they felt entitled to. Now the keep was a shadow of the great house of worship it had once been, the ceiling closed off and the rooms filled with weaponry. Usually clouds covered these mountains, almost as if the Sun wanted nothing to do with what the fortress had become. Orra closed her eyes to bask in the Sun’s rays, wondering if maybe its presence today was a sign that it approved of their plans.

That it still might approve of her.

Warmth filled her chest, spreading out toward her limbs.

Kendalyhn nudged her side, breaking her concentration. “We don’t have time to rest. Up the stairs.”

They crossed the battlement at a crouch. The door to the keep was already open, which Orra took as a bad sign. Their group was aiming for stealth, so it had likely been left that way by Zealot soldiers unconcerned about giving away their location. They went in one by one, taking the steps two at a time.

The moment Orra crossed the doorway, the entire tower rumbled. She gripped the stone frame, trying to find purchase.

“Are they bringing the whole thing down?” Marnok’s eyes widened as he looked back at Orra.

“No.” Orra traced her fingers over the stone, sensing Sylmar’s work. “They’re blocking the top of the stairs. It’s Sylmar, not the soldiers.”

“Why would they—?” Marnok cut off, his voice turning resigned. “There are Zealots between us, aren’t there? Zealots in front of us and either Zealots or winex behind.”

Orra turned back, still able to see the door leading back to the larger fortress building across the battlement. As if they’d heard Marnok, the door across the battlement flew open, and a horde of winex poured out like fleas.

Orra shut the northern keep’s door behind her. “Seal it, Kendalyhn.”

“I’m not—I’m a pneumatic. I can’t do that kind of magic,” Kendalyhn said.

“Then give your energy to Marnok so he can seal it.”

“But that would drain both of us.”

Orra pushed past the younger woman, not waiting to see if she obeyed. She kneeled down, placing a palm on the lowest step. Her mind traveled through the possibilities without her permission, seeking out all the ways they could overtake the soldiers above, all the ways people would die if they didn’t. Every way she looked ended in failure. Every way without her interference ended in death.

Even if she did something, she wasn’t sure it would change things. The end result still might not include the golden arrow.

But this time, it was like the Sun itself urged her on with a whisper of hope. Her throat grew tight with the familiarity of it. It had been so long since she’d felt not just the Sun’s presence or possible approval, but its guidance. The overwhelming presence of it both stung and reassured her. No matter what happened, in life or death, the Sun would not abandon her.

She brought the braid to her lips and kissed it. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll try again.”

Then she placed both palms on the step and reached out, searching for the smallest of seeds. Her mind drove through the cracks of the steps, the mud holding stone upon stone until she found a tiny sapling, more like a weed sprouting in the dank corner of the fourth stair up, grown by water that dripped when it rained and by the Sun’s morning light. She fed her energy to the sapling until it grew and twisted, its vines wrapping along the steps and up the wall.

Holm gasped and jumped back, but Marnok made his way up the steps, careful to avoid stepping on her creation.

“Earth,” Kendalyhn breathed from behind her. “You control earth. You have rim magic. But you have no starlock. You really must be a Star.”

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