Page 35 of Blood of the Stars

“What happens when we get to the mainland?” Aeliana asked. Traveling with half-lights might be safer in one sense, but this small group seemed likely to attract trouble. Aeliana watched as Lukai folded up dozens of arrows and knives in blankets and tied them together in bundles. Or maybe they went looking for trouble.

Aeliana shuddered.

“Now that you’re here, we’ll head north—join the rest of the new Celanoft. Those of us who survived Mayvus’ rampage years ago went underground.” Iris rifled through a bag, pulling out fine, unfamiliar clothes and passing them to Aeliana. “We thought you’d be here moons ago. It’s a relief to know you’re all right.”

She patted Aeliana’s cheek, then nudged her toward a sheet hung up as a makeshift dressing screen.

Was that why they had so many weapons? Had they been prepared to fight for her? Aeliana watched the others more closely, noting that in addition to Sylmar and Lukai, the shorter man and Kendalyhn had matching cords tucked into their shirts. Only Iris, Velden, and the larger man had bare necks, and yet Sylmar had said starlocks were becoming rarer. They’d not only been prepared to fight for her, but they’d sent several progenies.

All because she was the daughter of a well-loved high priestess? It didn’t seem to fit. Vera’s strange story about curses and prophecies came back to Aeliana. She couldn’t trust anything that woman said, but these people weren’t telling her everything either.

Aeliana changed, then rounded from behind the screen, pulling at the trousers as if they might grow a skirt. She quickly pulled her robe on over it.

Iris fussed over her a moment longer, then stood back with a critical eye. “Well enough. You won’t pass for an average Vendaran with all that hair. Some will think it disrespectful to the Stars, but we can braid it and hide it in your hood.”

Aeliana ran a hand over her waves. Disrespectful seemed like a bit much. “I thought you didn’t worship the Stars.”

Iris’ hands went to her hips. “Doesn’t mean we don’t respect them.”

Aeliana didn’t want to stand out, but she wasn’t sure she could cut her hair. Not yet. It was the pride of a Lorvandan. During desperate times, men and women cut a lock of hair to lie out in the Stargazer as an offering to the Stars. Otherwise, it was shameful to have hair as short as Iris’.

The man who had rolled up the bedding stood, towering over Aeliana until she took a step back. He bent to give Iris a peck on her cheek.

“I’ll load your herbs up next.” His voice held a gentleness Aeliana hadn’t expected.

“Don’t be rude,” Iris said, swatting his arm. “Aeliana, this is Holm. Holm, this is Aeliana.”

“Good to meet you,” Aeliana said, unsure how the Vendarans greeted one another. A handshake? A curtsy?

He ducked his head in her direction but said nothing more before ambling toward a stash of supplies in the corner.

Iris leaned close with a grin. “He’s formidable in battle and intimidating at first glance, but don’t let him fool you. He’s a giant puppy.”

Aeliana’s gaze swept over the room, taking in their varying shades of skin. In Lorvandas, she’d stuck out with her copper tones, whereas Cyrus’ pale skin had been more common. Here, he looked almost sickly against the warm browns.

“What about the shorter man?” Aeliana asked. The stranger still chewed biscuits as he bent over a map, his trim grey beard belying his youthful frame.

“Jasperus,” Iris said. “Loud and a bit of a know-it-all, but he tells the best stories. He missed his calling. Could have made a fortune with a traveling troupe.”

Aeliana smiled, even though she was already forgetting names. They seemed like an odd bunch, but with only seven of them besides Cyrus and herself, maybe she would find her place among them.

Cyrus sat on a large rock, where Lukai’s hands slid over Cyrus’ wound. Lukai took his time, his touch gentler and more exact than Sylmar’s had been. Every place his fingers brushed on Cyrus’ hand and arm showed pale, freckled skin. If scars remained, they were almost impossible to see. Cyrus stared in wonder, but at this rate, it would take all day for Lukai to finish smoothing out the scars left by Sylmar’s healing. After a moment, Lukai patted Cyrus on the back, then stepped away to pack his bag.

Cyrus walked over to Aeliana, holding up his hand and examining it in the low light in wonder. “He said he’ll finish tonight.”

Aeliana’s hand grazed the back of her neck. She longed for that kind of relief on her wounds, but the idea of volunteering for someone to use magic on her felt like madness.

“Which route are we taking?” the short older man called out to Sylmar, his focus still on the map. Hadn’t Iris called him Jasperus?

“We may need to take the Pass.”

The room went still once more.

The larger man stood, his hair nearly grazing the cave’s ceiling. He’d been the one to kiss Iris, and Aeliana thought his name might be Holm. “We can’t get an army of ten thousand men through the Pass.” His eyes darted everywhere in the room but on Sylmar, his tone still soft despite his urgency.

“Army?” Cyrus’ voice rose. “Are you at war?”

Aeliana tried imagining a group that large. On Harvest Day last year, she’d seen, from a distance, a thousand gathered in a town’s square. But ten times that? Aeliana couldn’t even picture it.

---