Page 3 of A Sky of Emerald Stars

“Aw, don’t,” I said, giving him a smack on the shoulder and clearing my throat. “Rauxtides don’t do feelings.”

He chuckled. “True.”

We wound our way through the forest as views of OlmdereCity peeked through the autumnal foliage. A long row of white boats sat nestled on the eastern shores of the lake for the night. Only two punters were still working, sitting on the bow of one boat playing cards. During the day, the boats ferried people all around the city: to the northern end with rolling gardens and cottages, the eastern quarter with its theaters and restaurants, the southern streets that were packed with workshops and trade stalls, and the western markets where you could buy just about anything your heart desired.

Despite my prickly state, I still appreciated the capital of the Golden Court every time I walked through it: the gold-flecked red stones, the towering domed architecture, the old dusty bricks, and the sound of the river rushing through the city never too far away.

My neck craned further as the castle rose above the last stretch of woodland between us and the city. The striking gold-flecked stone that comprised most of the city was also used in the castle construction, but with much more gold embellishments and detailing. It was clear the Gold Wolves of old were as rich as thieves, having made good use of the gold mines of Sevelde—much to the humans’ peril. But that was part of what Calla was trying to change. Tearing down the castle wasn’t going to change that, though—not that it would be easy to do anything to the castle: the stones were expertly cut and arranged, forming intricate patterns that caught the light and seemed to glow more in the fading sun.

“Do you think the sight will ever stop filling us with awe?” Hector asked as if he’d heard my thoughts.

The castle of our birthplace, Damrienn, was enormous and formidable, but it was also sharp and cold, nothing like the warmth that seemed to seep from this castle, open and welcoming. Still, part of me yearned for that coldness and for the unquestionable sense of belonging that came with it.

“This, this is our home now, Sadie,” Hector added, and it made my already tight lips curve downward.

“Home,” I echoed. It certainly didn’t feel that way. I had no clue what home was meant to feel like, in fact. Maybe the feeling was just a made-up faery story.

Our family’s townhouse in the city of Damrienn never felt like home, nor did this giant castle, despite Calla’s best efforts to make it feel like ours. Briar and Maez’s cottage felthomeybut didn’t feel like mine. Goddess, even that roving wagon had felt more right compared to the intricate adornments of castle life, but that wasn’t it, either. I would have taken a seat in the wagon in a heartbeat rather than be here, though. I was done playing the games of kings and queens. I couldn’t just sit on my hands and politic for the rest of my life. I wanted to move, wanted to roam, wanted tofight.

We plunged back into the forest, taking the last little deer trail toward the boats as the sun set. As if summoned from my thoughts alone, a structure caught my eye. I squinted into the shadows, seeing the arched roof of a giant wagon through the trees, and my heart met my throat. The last thing I wanted was to be anywhere near it. Nearhim. I would have gladly ignored it, thinking I might have actually conjured it in my mind. Maybe I’d finallylostmy mind, and I was about to thank all the wine I’d drank the last month...

But then I smelled it.

Hector stiffened beside me. “Blood,” he said, sniffing the air and confirming my fears.

I started running toward the wagon, my mind racing to catch up to my feet. As we darted through the thick undergrowth, a body appeared on the narrow path. His long frame, tattered velvet clothes, and scent like old song sheets and resin... With that scent, the memories hit me harder than I’d ever remembered them.

“Navin!” I screamed, darting the last stretch of forest. My knees squelched into the muddy ground as I dropped in front of Navin, all my anger replaced by ice-cold dread. He was so caked in mud and dried blood that I didn’t recognize him at first, onlyhis telltale scent shot through me like a poisoned arrow: Navin. He was here. In Olmdere.

Hurt.

Relief coursed through me as Navin lifted a shaking hand, and I thanked all the Gods that he was alive. I’d hate him later, wish him death again, once I was certain he was alive. I didn’t care about the hypocrisy. Right now, I just needed him to be alive.

Navin’s hands slid under his chest and he tried to push himself to a seated position, but he collapsed back to the forest floor. My eyes scanned over his body, searching for the wound.

“Ora,” Navin panted. “They’re gone. Taken—taken by...”

“What?” Hector barked, rushing over to Navin’s other side. “Who? Who took Ora?”

“Wolves,” he groaned.

Hector perked up, alert, looking around. Sniffing. He paused a moment, but then shook his head.

The Wolves were gone.

Not that I cared. “Where are you hurt?” I begged, searching for the slash marks in his clothes, trying to discern where the blood was coming from.

A small wooden instrument that looked like a tapered flute still remained clutched in one of his hands. Navin swayed up onto his knees, his shaking grime-covered hands dropping the flute and reaching out to me. He cupped my cheeks and leaned his forehead against my own, taking a deep breath like a Wolf scenting the air. I hated that my eyes pinpricked with tears, but I couldn’t stop it. Nothing about how I felt about him had ever been in my control. The same relief bracketed his expression before his eyes clenched closed. His body trembled as he whispered, “Sadie,” and collapsed.

I caught Navin’s long torso in my arms, slowing his fall as I teetered over with him.

“We need to get him to a healer,” I barked.

“What does it mean?” Hector asked, frowning down at Navin. “Do you think the Silver Wolves took Ora to retaliate somehow?”

“Hector,” I snapped as I slung one of Navin’s arms over my shoulder. Navin groaned, barely clinging to consciousness. “Help me.”

My brother, seeming to remember himself, burst into action and helped me lift Navin to his feet. “The boats are just through there,” he said. “We’ll take him to Calla.”

---