Page 47 of Blood of the Stars

Velden held out the star. “Congratulations.”

Aeliana backed away. “I don’t want it.”

Sylmar’s back straightened, his face darkening as the knot of scars once again bunched together. “You don’t get a choice. It’s the Sun who chooses the half-light, not the other way around.”

He turned, stalking off toward the others to bark out orders, once again leaning heavily on his staff.

“I think you offended him,” Cyrus said.

“Everyone’s mere existence offends him.” Velden stepped forward, turning Aeliana’s hand palm up. He dropped the thimble-sized star in her hand and closed her fist around it. It felt heavy and warm like the golden arrow had. Alive.

“It’s an honor to be chosen.” His smile softened the rebuke. “Whether you use it or not is up to you, but it’s still a gift from the Sun that you should accept.”

She glanced at Velden’s neck—void of a starlock even though she’d seen Velden do magic. He joined Sylmar before Aeliana could work out the inconsistency. Aeliana held back, knowing that if she continued on with these people, she was making a choice to join their war and learn their magic.

The object that had previously felt harmless now seemed sinister, a snare lying in wait to trick her into using it. They made it sound like she’d done something to earn the thing. Like they expected her to use magic almost out of reverence for the Sun. She didn’t even know what to think of the Sun. She wasn’t sure what the Vendarans believed about it or how that lined up with the Stars she’d worshiped all her life.

She squeezed the object, letting it dig painfully into her palm as a reminder of its danger.

Cyrus stepped away, his actions momentarily seeming like a rejection. But he spoke with Lukai, gesturing back at Aeliana. Lukai nodded, then handed over his own bow with the white wood Aeliana had admired, along with a leather quiver and several arrows.

Cyrus returned, holding out the bow. Aeliana hesitantly grasped its wood, but Cyrus didn’t let go. “Is this bow evil?”

The soft question ushered in the memory of their archery lessons. Aeliana pressed her lips together, still not ready to face the deeper truths of his analogy.

“The magic in your blood is no more evil than this bow,” Cyrus said. “Your guardians used it for evil, but you can use it for good. The motivation behind it can change the outcome.” He released the bow.

Aeliana hugged the weapon close, unable to hold his gaze.

The wind picked up, bringing heat and the threat of flames with it. The events of the night passed over Aeliana in a wave, weighing her down with exhaustion. Clouds covered the moonlight, bringing the fresh clearing into deeper shade, the glow of the dying fire at their backs their only light.

When Jasperus and Kendalyhn returned, the slight shake of their heads seemed to propel the others into action. Lukai checked everyone’s injuries while Kendalyhn and Jasperus gathered fallen arrows. Sylmar and Velden held back, watching Aeliana and Cyrus.

“Look,” Cyrus whispered, his eyes following Sylmar and Velden’s approach. “Gams’ dying wish was that I protect you.” He looked away, his jaw tight. “The truth is, you probably don’t need my protection. You’ve got all these progenies and your magic. But maybe I’m not meant to protect you from external threats. Maybe she wanted me to protect you from yourself and your own doubts. You don’t believe your magic can be good? Prove it. Let Sylmar train you. Let him teach you how to control it.”

Her heart pounded with his words. “I need to learn how to get rid of it.”

“It sounds like the same thing to me. If it’s as bad as you say, they’ll be eager to teach you how to get rid of it. Besides, it’s no longer just about your magic. These people can help you find your mother.”

Her gut clenched as Cyrus hit on the one thing Aeliana couldn’t refuse: the chance to find her family.

“Plus,” he added, “if they’re trying to get back your blood, they can probably help us get the golden arrow that started all this. We—I—could go home.”

She blinked back tears. “I’m so sorry, Cyrus. I’ve taken so much from you.”

His fist tightened around the hilt of his sword, which looked odd against the singed priestly robes he’d refused to exchange for the Vendaran leathers. “The Stars saw fit for me to do without. Gams wouldn’t want me to waste these opportunities blaming someone else, especially when that someone is just as much a victim.”

“You’re a good friend, Cyrus.” Aeliana swiped at the wetness in her eyes. “I don’t think I’ve had one before now.”

His smile bloomed, and he elbowed her in the side. “Gamps said we would be the best of friends. I can’t make a liar out of him.”

Despite everything, she returned his smile. She even wanted his words to be true.

She’d wanted freedom from her magic—she still did. But she couldn’t expect to be free from something she didn’t understand. Finding her mother and a way home for Cyrus had to be her new priorities.

Even if it meant learning magic.

As Sylmar and Velden approached, one more objection rose to the surface, a dark thing that tainted any acquiescence she might have leaned toward.

---