Heavenly Bodies

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Elara took a step backwards, bumping right into Leonardo.

She must have misheard.

‘You want to kill a god?’ she asked hoarsely.

Elara was a royal. She knew the flaws of the Stars who the subjects of Celestia worshipped so blindly. Though her lands had been untouched by Stars—their patron goddess slumbering—when she was only eight she had heard her parents whisper to each other of what the Stars were capable of when they descended from their home in the Heavens. Capri had turned more than one subject in his land to solid gold for beating him at a game of cards. Aquaria, so Sofia had once told her, flew into such fits of rage that she could cast misfortune and curses upon an entire family line. And Ariete…well…any royal could recount the rivers of blood he had spilled in his time. She had questioned for years why they should pray to such cruel and capricious beings. And yet…to even speak the words aloud? It was utter sacrilege.

Idris twirled the yellow topaz ring on his little finger. ‘Not just any god. Ariete. The King of Stars.’ He rose from the throne and began to pace.

The emotions Elara had been trying so desperately to swallow now ignited in a pit of fire as she thought of the god who had cost her everything.

‘Why?’ was all she managed to say.

‘If the King of Stars falls, so will the others. For centuries, Elara, the monarchs of Celestia have had to kneel at the feet of these gods. Lick their boots, be nothing more than servants. I had thought that the Stars were invincible, impossible to kill. Until now. Until you.’

She turned. ‘Find someone else. I have no interest in being smitten by divinitas when the Stars inevitably discover your plan.’

It was the worst way to die, by divinitas. The Stars’ deathly starlight would blind you, then flay your skin, before quite literally obliterating your existence. Leaving not even a body to bury—and with that, no way to get to the Hallowlands, or the Graveyard at the very least, which sat somewhere between the paradise of the Hallowlands and the damnation of the Deadlands. She thought of the look in her parents’ eyes as red starlight had thrashed them, and squeezed her own shut.

‘Do you think you have a choice?’

As she opened her eyes again, horrible light seeped from the king’s fingertips as he sat back on his throne. He could wield that light, inflict pain on her with it. She forced herself not to even blink.

‘You can’t very well return to Asteria. Not as the god of wrath and blood himself hunts for you. Where else would you go?’

It hit Elara then. She had been trying so desperately to get back home. But how could she when the god who had murdered her parents would be waiting with open arms?

Nowhere. Elara had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. She had the years locked away in her silver tower to thank for that.

‘You will stay,’ Idris said. ‘I will put you in the finest quarters. You will want for nothing. So long as you allow us to train you. To make you the weapon you were always destined to be—one to bring down the very skies.’

This, or death. Elara weighed the options in her mind. To be a slave to Idris, or to spend her life running from Ariete’s clutches.

‘How will you train me?’

‘I know you possess the Three, princess. All of your kingdom’s powers, rather than just one. Rare, indeed.’

‘How could you know?’ she demanded. It was impossible. No one but her family’s innermost circle and trusted tutors had known.

‘I have my sources,’ Idris replied. His son’s lips twitched then. ‘You will be trained rigorously, and ruthlessly. The D’Oro way.’

‘And how will you hide me from Ariete?’ she demanded. If her pale skin didn’t give her away, then her silver eyes did—Elara was Asterian through and through.

He clicked his fingers, and the presence at Elara’s back disappeared, before she heard the doors swing open once more. She turned, seeing a beautiful woman glide into the room. She looked different from the other Helions that Elara had laid eyes on. Her golden hair glowed, her green eyes sparkling—so enticing that Elara found it hard to look away.

‘Merissa will see to it that you’re well disguised. We’ve already taken care of the details of your stay.’

‘Such a lovely euphemism for imprisonment,’ she said. Leonardo shifted behind her. ‘Let the record show that I will not agree to stay here, in the kingdom of my enemy.’

‘Then you’ll be dragged to your new chambers. It would be easier if you went willingly.’

Elara clenched her jaw. Toyed with the idea of struggling. But her bones were so weary, her mind more so. And so she straightened her spine, and spun on her heel, giving a look dripping with derision to Leonardo. ‘And I suppose it’s you who will be overseeing my training?’

There was a cold laugh behind her. ‘No,’ Idris said. ‘That would be my son.’

Her eyes flew to the prince’s as his glare bore into her.

She scoffed, making sure her only visible reaction was one of ridicule, before tossing her hair over her shoulder as Leonardo escorted her out, feeling the prince’s glare scorching her back.