Page 70 of Death of the Glass Angel
“What’s she like?”
“If I had to describe her in a word, I would choose ambition,” Alfaris said thoughtfully. “Maybe it would be easier to show you.”
Glancing back at the cluttered desk, Janus started as Alfaris grabbed her shoulders and tilted her chin to stare at the stars.
But this time, something happened.
The sea of celestial bodies morphed and stretched, the stars brightened and grew. It was terrifying, like a maw widening to swallow her whole. Janus wanted to tear her eyes away and run, but she couldn’t move.
Flickering and pulsing, the stars scattered as a constellation took shape—the vague outline of a woman crowned by a celestial headpiece appeared in starlight.
Flashes of figures, white silhouettes against the dark backdrop, moved within the constellation’s borders. Janus recognized one, its curly hair and proud posture—Chief Heras. A flicker of red swirled around her waist—the color of the Gaevral clan.
Her hand shot above her head, commanding. Soldiers gathered around her, bodies quivering and shaking unnaturally. They stood taller than any man and jerked back and forth as though in deep pain. Heras pointed into the distance, and the soldiers marched, heading to war.
The sky shifted. Janus felt like she was atop a horse, galloping deeper into the starry sea, flying faster than any bird. The horrible sense of inertia and motion ceased as a new star drew into focus.
Another constellation appeared, and Janus winced as the stars brightened into the pattern of a man hanging from the gallows. Within the constellation, the sky darkened, creating a stage for the bright silhouettes to dance.
A woman appeared again, one Janus did not recognize; short, with plain hair. She stood before a great dragon, its head rising to reveal a pair of enormous horns, similar to those of a deer. Its wings spread around the woman, engulfing her in darkness.
Janus gasped as the sky shifted again, tearing her away from one scene to another. Her vision bolted through the sky, traveling to a new constellation.
A dragon appeared in the stars. The white silhouette of a familiar man appeared in the dark canvas of its wings. Tall with wavy hair, a cloth trailed behind the man as he strode forward confidently.
Gemellus raised his arms, and Janus could feel the grin spreading across his face. The world collapsed around him, raining chunks of rock from above and cracking the earth below. Janus lunged forward, reaching for Gem as the dragon constellation was swallowed by shadow.
But there was no time to linger; the great sky was already shifting, metal rings spinning as it focused on a new star.
A great tower appeared in white, crowned by a clock with great wings. A small figure rose from its knees, hair thrown wild in the breeze—herself.
The other Janus extended a hand, as though beckoning to someone. Fire caught on her palms, raging white in the dance of silhouettes. It consumed everything around her—the tower, the wings, and the black sky.
Janus shrieked. But she couldn’t hear her voice. The sky was already changing.
A metal ring spun overhead, framing the final constellation. Star by star, it took shape: a skeletal figure shrouded in tattered cloth, a scythe clutched in a bony grip.
A roguish figure walked within its bounds, hair stylishly messy, hands tucked in his coat pockets. He tossed a coin and caught it—Talon. A shadow stretched behind him, darker than the night sky.
Blood seeped from the stars, spreading over the sky as a woman appeared behind Talon and drove a dagger into his back. They twisted the handle and yanked it out, and the constellation collapsed as Talon fell forward onto his knees into a puddle of blood and died.
Everything snapped back to reality. Janus crumpled, hands pressed to her face, stifling a scream.
What had just happened?
Gasping, Janus stumbled to her feet, trying to make sense of what she’d seen. Alfaris grabbed her shoulder, steadying her. She looked up, desperate to see more. But only a single star danced in the black sky, flickering and far away.
“How did you-” Janus spun around.
“I showed you fate,” Alfaris said calmly.
Closing her eyes, Janus replayed the memory in her head. She could recall it. What she had seen was real.
“Alfaris,” Felsin said, an edge to his voice. “Should you have-”
“Have you found your answer?” Alfaris asked.
No, no, of course not! Janus hardly understood how the sky had changed, let alone what any of it meant.
