Page 114 of Above
There, on an island to the northwest of our continent, was the barest hint of magic. A faint, rhythmic pulsing. Something so small that I imagined only someone with the stars could sense it.
My eyes flew open, landing on the islands where they had been depicted on the map—this one better than the rest seeing as I had purchased it from Artie a few months ago.
He had stopped helping me not long after the public became aware of my future position as general. I could still hear him apologizing just before telling me to never step foot in his shop again. The same had happened with my mother’s apothecarywhen I had tried to hire help to keep it afloat. No one wanted anything to do with a shaytan, let alone an elite with the stars.
Touching the map fondly, I slowly used graphite to circle the islands.
I’d check tomorrow. Alone.
Wiping my tears, I finally allowed myself to take a deep breath. Once I killed Altair, I’d be able to move on.
Death wove through my legs, her eager purrs settling me further. I bent low and picked her up, running my fingers through her black fur.
“I’m going to get justice for them, Death. Don’t worry.” She stared at me with those big yellow eyes, and for some reason I felt as if she disapproved. “What? You can’t judge me. They were our family. He deserves to die.” Again she stared, her tiny head quirking to the side slightly. “You wouldn’t understand. You didn’t get as long with them as I did.”
Sighing, I made my way to the stairs, walking this time. My moods changed fast these days, fury coming and going in waves before revealing the grief and sorrow that made up the sand below. Grains of it would seep into my every waking thought, and I wondered silently when it would stop.
“You grieve the wrong people.”
Groaning, I slammed the door behind me, wishing I could have a moment of peace.
“We’re only telling you what you already desire to know.”
Wait, what?
“Ah, there’s that attention we crave. Too late now, sweet catalyst, you’ve greatly offended us. Figure it out yourself.”
Thanks for nothing!
Their giggles faded, my head once more filled with my own thoughts. I had a sneaking suspicion that they fed into my belligerence. They loved to see me cause a scene. It was a wonder the other holders of the stars didn’t go completely mad.
Stopping just before mine and Celeste’s bedroom, I thought about that. Maybe they had gone insane. It was the Altairs after all. Madness was practically a prerequisite. Probably seeped into their blood and down their family line.
Shaking my head, I walked in, trying not to dwell on Celeste’s belongings for too long. I hadn’t moved anything other than my own clothes. I didn’t want to disrupt what she had left behind.
In the closet, I had slowly begun adding items that Talon gifted me. Mostly exquisite gowns. He was always eager to buy me things that I didn’t need. For the first time, I was actually going to make use of some of it.
My fingers skimmed over the dresses, settling on one that shone as silver as the flecks of stars in my eyes. I toyed with the silky fabric, imagining how beautiful it would have looked on Mama with her grey eyes and blonde hair. Beside it was a gold one that Celeste would have adored, the shade similar to Dad’s eyes. It would have made her soft brown skin glow and her irises she got from Mama shine.
Closing my eyes, I tried to picture them.
Celeste’s freckles that covered just slightly more of her face than mine. Her nose that was a bit too large for her face—just as mine was. Her big eyes and oval face.
Mama’s pale skin and perpetually rosy cheeks. Her sharp jaw and button nose. Her sunlight hair and signature twist. Like Celeste, her stormy eyes always seemed too deep to see the bottom.
Dad’s wild curls and his dark skin. His honest smile and booming voice. His ears that hung low from the gold hoops he always wore and his thick beard.
Despite how intimately I knew their faces, I found that it was hard to picture them. They faded, just as the days since their deaths did. One day, I knew I would no longer be able to recallthe exact shade of their eyes, the slope of their jaws, or the shape of their smiles.
Death’s loud meow brought me back from the catacombs of my mind. Shaking my head, the images of them rattling and falling back into the depths of darkness, I grabbed the silver dress.
Without much grandeur, I stripped my leathers and headed to the tiny bathroom down the hall, making quick work of scrubbing my body with the rag and bucket of cold, soapy water.
After drying off, I slipped the dress up my body, realizing it was growing tighter with my continuous training and eating. How sad that their absence somehow led to me taking up more space instead of less.
Slowly, painstakingly, I worked to untangle my curls and force them to cooperate, trying to accomplish the twist that had once taken my mother mere seconds. In the end, after poking my skin with the pins more times than I cared to admit, I settled with a messier, more wild version. Then, for the first time ever, I opened up Celeste’s drawer of cosmetics. She had worked hard to save up for them, each product special to her.
With a deep breath, I reached in and grabbed the first product.
