Page 89 of Blood of the Stars

“Tonight.” Aeliana straightened to her full height. It wasn’t much compared to Cyrus and Lukai, who still loomed over her, but at least she was eye level with Sylmar’s stooped figure. “But probably not how you’re thinking. There’s only one time I’ve used my magic with focused control.”

She passed the horses, making her way to the tree to snatch up the white bow and arrows. She recalled the sensation of drawing the arrow back against her cheek, only this time she remembered the tug in her chest, the desire for the arrow to meet its mark combined with the energy to put it in its place. The pull of magic.

She hadn’t carried these for days, even before they had the horses, because she’d been too weak. Even now, she lifted the bow and every muscle in her arms argued with her plan.

But it was the only plan she had.

Planting herself a fair distance from the others, she created targets in her mind, honing in on the distant node of a bamboo tree, then the large leaf of another. As they’d traveled, most of the bamboo had given way to lush forests, the trees’ canopies blocking out all Sunlight. The leaves were as big as her body, and the flowers held intoxicating scents.

She picked each of these objects out, aiming for them like Cyrus had taught her, then pulling energy through her body and arms to create force behind the arrows like she’d accidentally done before.

She used such a minimal amount of energy it was almost laughable, but her aim was true every time. The physical energy required to lift the bow was probably more than the relief she gained from expending the energy in her blood. But after emptying her quiver, she thought she detected a change. An ease to her lingering pain.

A few daisies had sprouted by her feet. For the first time, she saw them as a mark of her power rather than a mark of her sins. She still slid her boot over them as she turned, wondering if Sylmar would consider this a waste of time.

The entire camp had stopped to watch, a few shocked expressions scattered amidst Sylmar’s and Cyrus’ pride.

“I taught her. Just last month.” Cyrus beamed.

Velden chuckled. “Yes. Her skill is most definitely a product of your excellent teaching.”

Lukai quietly gathered her arrows before dropping them in her quiver. He smiled, his gaze boring through her eyes until her soul felt bare. She didn’t turn away, daring him to see her from every vulnerable angle. Almost desperate for him to find her wanting in some way.

His smile widened, and he nodded. “Again.”

CHAPTER 37

To Gaeren’s relief, Orra kept them riding at a fast pace. Still, it took them a week to reach the creek running from Lovers’ Falls. Hints of the other group’s trail became obvious to Gaeren: an old cookfire, prints in the soil from both man and horse. Orra’s promise that they were gaining on Daisy no longer felt far-fetched.

“We’ll camp up ahead,” Orra said, surprising Gaeren.

They still had a fair amount of time before the Sun’s sleep, and she’d been as determined to catch up as he was. Still, he was grateful. If they traveled much farther, it would be difficult to sneak out to the Falls during the night to hunt for the cutlass and return by the Sun’s morn.

“Maybe we should go farther from Lovers’ Falls,” Riveran said. “Aren’t the sprites close?”

“Close enough.” Orra’s murmur came so low Gaeren wondered if he imagined it.

Gullet took to the treetops as if he understood it was time to make camp, and when they rounded the bend, it was clear someone else had recently camped there. Flattened grass and evenly cut bamboo shoots surrounded an old cookfire, showing evidence of more than a half-dozen people having slept in the clearing. Gaeren’s eyes narrowed at the surrounding trees filled with pock marks, like someone had been practicing archery.

He closed his eyes, searching for wisps of heat left from the memory of the people before him, but it had been too long.

“They must be at least a few days ahead of us,” he said.

Orra nodded. “It should still be easy to catch them within a week or less. We can travel faster with fewer people.” Her words were accurate, but something about the way she said them felt like a lie.

“I wouldn’t mind riding later into the night,” Riveran said even as he dismounted. His roan gelding stomped, eager to be freed for grazing. Riveran had taken to calling him Maw, claiming he didn’t know which of his animals had the bigger mouth. “Get away from the sprites faster, catch up with the progenies sooner. Sounds like a win all around.”

Orra glanced at Gaeren, her face passive. “No sense wasting a good campsite.”

She knew. Of course she knew Gaeren’s plans. Was there anything she didn’t know? He slid off his horse, using the gelding to hide his irritation more than his guilt. Besides, she wasn’t doing anything to stop him. She wanted him to find the cutlass. He paused. Did that mean he’d find it? How much did she really know?

The gelding turned, nipping at Gaeren’s cheek, reminding him to keep working at the ties.

While the horses grazed, Riveran and Gaeren gathered sticks and dead grass, making use of the cookfire pit left by the group before them. Orra pulled out the bedrolls while mumbling to herself.

“You won’t tell me who you’re after, but you’ll follow her blindly?” Riveran asked.

“She’s been right so far.” Gaeren shrugged, eager to change the subject and avoid more of Riveran’s questions. “Besides, she’s better company than Lenda.”

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