Page 53 of The City of Stardust

There is still a price that must be paid.

Marianne nods wearily. “I know.” She stares down at her hands. “A curse is just a contract, really.”

The scene holds for another second with a lustrous fragility. Then it dissolves, and Violet’s back in the dark room, her palm still pressed against Tamriel’s chest. Not collapsed on the ground. Her mother is gone, whisked away by time. The creature’s chest heaves, his breathing heavy with effort.

We have shown you.And now we will take.

“I—hold on a minute—”

An immense pressure descends across her head, and images flash through her mind. A viridian field; her mother tucking her into bed, looking so sad. A story falling from her lips in her soft, easy voice. The faint trace of perfume as she bends down to kiss Violet’s forehead. This is the last day she saw her mother, she realises.Not that one!she tries to say. There are others—Marianne arguing with Violet over something misplaced; Marianne half cooking, half reading in the kitchen; Marianne pushing Violet towards her uncles becauseI have work to do, always—and he can have them. But not this one. Not the last.

Then the pressure abruptly disappears. She reels back, trying to hold on to… what was it? But already the images have drainedaway like water. Her face is wet, tears streaking down her face, though she has no idea why. She wipes them away furiously.

“What did you take?” she demands.

We took what is fair. The exchange is complete.

“I don’t understand,” she says. “A price? What do you mean, Hand? Will they have the key? Prague is a big city! How am I supposed to find them?”

That is not our concern. We will never see beyond this darkness again.

There’s something about the way the astral says it that makes her pause and look at him again. After Marianne’s memories, it’s impossible not to see so clearly the remnants of a god. Astral. Her gaze drifts to his reveurite chains.

“What was it like?” she asks softly. “Elandriel?”

Tamriel watches her with his silver-rimmed eyes, his unfathomable expression.

It was without peer. Elandriel, the doorway to untold worlds. A dream, thousands of years in the making. Our brethren had such plans for this world of worlds, this treasure of ours.

Yet heavy dreams make for heavy burdens. And look how it weighs upon us.He tilts his head to the side, curiosity evident in his gaze.Why do you ask us of this?

“I—” She opens her mouth to tell him about her mother, the Everly curse, her own internal clock ticking downwards.

But it would be a lie to say those were the first things she thought of. She thinks of the talent that runs through her veins, that might still let her walk through worlds one day.

“I just… wanted to know,” she says.

He leans close enough to her that his chains jangle with the strain.You remind us much of another. We see your mother, she who wanders, but there is something else…

The astral suddenly looks up at the ceiling, as if sensing something there.The time for a reckoning is almost at hand. Leave us, O star-child.

“But I—”

LEAVE!he screams, and the command is so heavy that she has no choice but to obey. She’s halfway up the ladder before she evenrealises he has compelled her again. But whether she wants to or not, she keeps going. She has so many questions, waiting to explode off her tongue. Elandriel, birthright, her mother, what will happen to Tamriel—

She emerges from the basement covered in dust, feeling as if she’s spent a lifetime down there. The sun has descended, leaving the kitchen swathed in darkness. Something creaks in the house and she freezes.

A reckoning comes.But for who?

Penelope emerges from the shadows, watching Violet leave the house. It’s always curious how fast children grow up, she observes. What they take with them into adulthood; what they leave behind. And Violet takes after the Everly line, with little trace of her worthless father—whoever he might have been.

But then again, Everly blood is stronger than most. Stubborner than most.

Penelope descends the ladder to the basement, where Violet’s footprints are still embedded in the dirt. Tamriel looks up and laughs softly.

“Tamriel,” she says. “You lied to me.”

O star-daughter, you return. As we knew you would.

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