Chapter 43
Emmeric
After pulling Talon away from charging back into the fray by himself, Emmeric had to punch his best friend in the face. He hated the need, but Tal wasn’t seeing reason and the only way to keep him safe was to knock him out and haul him away. Emmeric and Iyana were still recovering from the healing process and the amount of magic she had expelled. They’d never used that much before. Altair said he was running low on his stores as well, having used most of his on the fire sword he’d wielded. Talon himself was flagging—he was only human after all.
Kaz was on board with restarting the fight, but she was the only one with any amount of energy left. However, she relented when Emmeric made it clear he would also knock her unconscious if he had to, and she rode away with the rest of them. Emmeric rode Ryunn with Talon slung across the saddle in front of him, while Kaz took Talon’s chestnut. Leaving the prince behind made him feel terrible, but there was no way of rescuing him without damning themselves.
They rode hard for an entire day, barely stopping to eat or for bathroom breaks. Luckily for them, the snowstorm raged, covering any tracks they may have left. The knowledge Emmeric had learned in the library was burning in his throat. He couldn’t help peeking over at Iyana and Altair riding together. She needed to learn about what he’d found, but he wanted to get her alone to discuss it. That first day it was impossible to talk to anyone, though, with the winds racing along with them. The book in his saddlebag felt like it weighed more the farther they traveled and the longer he said nothing. When they did finally stop, horses foaming at the mouth, the mood was somber.
Talon had reawakened a couple hours into the ride and tried to revolt. Tried to convince them all to turn around or to let him go by himself. They all talked him down, which didn’t go over well.
“When Iyana wanted to turn around, we did without question,” he yelled. “No offense, Em, you know I love you and I would, of course, choose to save you every time, but this is some hypocritical shit.”
“Talon,” Emmeric said, gently. “I get it, believe me. But we have to play this smart. If we had gone back right then, we’d all be dead. I promise we will get Zane back, okay? But we need to regroup and plan.”
“Fine, whatever.” Tal was quiet for the rest of the day, riding with Kaz because he was furious with Emmeric, his vision unfocused on the horizon. Emmeric had only seen him this way once before, when they were thirteen and they’d had a large falling out. What they had been fighting about was long forgotten, but he remembered Talon wouldn’t talk to him for almost four days. It was the worst four days of Emmeric’s life, and Tal only came around when he brought over a large platter of lemon bars they’d then shared in his yard—laughing and wrestling. Promising to never fight again.
Life happens, though, and people or responsibilities can easily come between childhood friendships. Sometimes, through nobody’s fault, those friends drift apart. Talking less and less until they are only a fond memory. Emmeric vowed that would never be him and Talon. They would always be together no matter the hurdles life threw in their way.
They finally stopped to rest for a few hours and, while Altair was busy starting a fire, Emmeric saw his chance. He sat down next to Iyana on the tarpaulin they’d laid out over the snow. She was sitting with her knees to her chest and her cloak wrapped tightly around her to keep it from catching in the wind. Her gaze focused unerringly on Talon, brow furrowed, who was moping across camp while Kaz attempted to cheer him up, and she refused to look at Emmeric.
“Iyana,” he murmured. He desperately wanted to call her Mouse but thought the nickname would spook her. “Can I speak with you privately?” He hated that her eyes flicked to Altair as if gauging how he would react to any decision she made. Iyana was fully capable of making her own choices.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Emmeric,” she said.
“Please, M—Iyana,” he said, catching himself. “It’s important.”
She laid her head on her knees and finally considered him. “If it’s that important, maybe the rest of the group needs to hear.”
Emmeric couldn’t help it; he glanced at Altair. Iyana noticed the direction of his gaze and frowned. “You still don’t trust him, do you?”
“Listen, what I found, I don’t think he should know about it—”
“No, Emmeric, you listen,” she said, shooting to her feet and talking down to him. “I’ve had it with this discussion! We’re going in circles now and I’m done.”
She tried to storm off closer to the fire, but before she moved too far, he grabbed her wrist. Looking down at him with fire in her expression, Emmeric was concerned she was about to blast him with some magic, making those dreams he had at least partially based in reality. He dropped her hand.
“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “For coming back for me.”
Iyana glanced again at Altair, who still stood at a distance, watching the scene unfold. After turning back towards Emmeric, blocking the star from view, she mouthed the best word he believed had ever graced her lips. Always.
When they awoke the next morning, the storm had finally cleared to sunny skies, but a thin layer of snow covered their campsite. Emmeric was the first to wake in the winter wonderland, shivering with ice in his eyelashes. Snow had buried his entire bedroll, and he unfortunately hadn’t thought to burrow his head within it before he fell asleep. Mist curled away into the air with every exhale. Standing and stomping his feet, he tried to warm up a bit, but it was useless.
Soon the others woke as well. Kaz complained loudly about the conditions, while Talon still sulked without engaging in conversations. Emmeric hated seeing his friend this way. He wished there was something he could do, but he knew the only thing that would cheer Tal up now would be Zane’s safe return. Maybe he should talk to him about it.
Iyana was raving about the sun shining down on them again, finally. Neither she nor Altair seemed as affected by the cold, but they had magic to warm their blood. The rest of them had to make do with layers, but the frost still crept in, finding holes in his clothing Emmeric hadn’t even realized were there. Dusting the snow off, they packed up for another day of travel. Iyana surprised them all by making coffee and heating it with her magic. Her control really was improving, and Emmeric was impressed. The hot beverage revived him and renewed his resolve to speak with Iyana about his research.
He would make her listen if he had to.
Hours later, they stopped for lunch and Emmeric saw another opening when Altair wandered off, stating he was going to check behind them to ensure they weren’t being followed. Iyana, Kaz, and Talon were all seated on a large outcropping of rock, eating their meager rations of jerky and dried fruit. He seated himself between Talon and Iyana, placing the library book behind him. Kaz hadn’t spoken to him much since his rescue, and he wasn’t sure if everything was okay between them. He made a note to talk to her later to see where her head was at. Apparently, a lot of conversations needed to be had.
“I need to talk to you all,” he started. Iyana scoffed and moved to leave. Emmeric placed a hand lightly on her knee to keep her in place, staring deep into those caramel-colored eyes, begging her to listen. She settled back down reluctantly. Something within him loosened at her miniscule concession.
“After you all left, I was led into a section of the library we hadn’t found yet.”
“Led? By what?” Iyana asked.
“The owls.” Three pairs of brows raised. He raked a hand through his hair, then pulled the tome onto his lap. “I know, it sounds crazy, but let’s forget about the owls for a minute. I found this book, and it outlines the conflict the first Aztia and Kanaliza faced.”
Iyana’s eyes lit up, and he knew he finally had her full attention. Emmeric’s heart sped up. He opened to a page he’d marked in the middle of the book.
“Once the gods slept, the only beings still on the continent were humans and the stars. The humans had been gifted with magic by the gods before they left, but the stars were still vastly more powerful. Many of them saw an opportunity to become gods themselves. They had always been second, as the gods had an infinite amount of power, and so they largely kept to themselves. But once the gods were sleeping, they became the apex predators, so to speak.” He looked at each of his friends in turn. “The stars enslaved the humans. They made them do all the grunt work, serve them within their palaces…some were even sex slaves. Humans were worked to death, with an average lifespan of only thirty years. If a slave stepped out of line or tried to revolt, the stars murdered their children. If they had no children, their spouse was killed. And if they didn’t have a spouse, the stars hunted down the person closest to the slave and cut them down. Just to prove they were untouchable.”
Iyana’s face paled, her lips parted slightly as she listened to him raptly. He loathed that he needed to tell her all of this, and he hoped she’d forgive him.
“Smaller human enclaves were mostly left alone, and that was where the rebellion was born. However, the stars’ might proved too powerful even for groups of humans with magic, and many of them died. After hundreds of years of this behavior, the humans had mostly accepted their place as slaves, but the gods had finally taken note of the situation. They found a woman with more magic than most, and Zaya gifted her with even more, making her the first Aztia. This woman realized she still was not strong enough on her own after a vicious defeat, and prayed to Zaya for guidance. That was when Zaya created the Kanaliza to help. Together, they and other magical humans rose up and banished all the stars to the sky where they’ve been ever since.”
He passed the book to Iyana, allowing her to see for herself he was telling the truth. “We can’t trust him,” Emmeric said softly.
Iyana read the book herself wide-eyed. He felt her heart cracking and breaking. The ache pierced deeply into his soul.
“I assure you, you can,” a deep voice said behind them all. The four whirled around to find Altair had returned. None of them had heard him approach. The star only had eyes for Iyana, and she stared back at him questioningly. Emmeric could tell she wanted to believe him as confusion and betrayal warred with hope within the bond. Altair joined them on the outcropping, crossing his legs. He stroked a strand of Iyana’s hair behind her ear, and the woman practically melted. Acidic anger and jealousy bubbled up within Emmeric. Iyana glanced at him, and he tamped down the emotions, wishing he knew a way to block her out.
“A majority of the stars had a desire to live as gods, yes,” Altair began. “My constellation, my family, was not one of them. I was part of the Aquila family. We were small compared to some of the other constellations. Four great families ruled over us: Centaurus, Draco, Scorpius, and Ursa. Centaurus was the highest ranked of those four and dictated the laws we were all duty-bound to follow. They were the ones who decreed humans were to be slaves, and the rest of us were unable to do anything. While the humans were staging their rebellion, some of us were helping at great personal risk. We’d befriended the human resistance, including the Aztia and Kanaliza. When the time came to enact the plan, they double-crossed us, and instead of only banishing the stars who wanted slavery, they banished us all.”
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Talon asked.
Altair shrugged. “I guess you don’t. But I have been stuck in the sky for a thousand years, and I’d rather not go back.”
“Doesn’t that make a great motive? Revenge?” Kaz asked. Emmeric could kiss the shifter.
“It does,” Altair agreed. “At first, a righteous anger fueled my motives. But time softens all—even stone is worn down by water after thousands of years. Now, I only want to live my life here. Even before falling, all I wanted was my freedom. Our superiors chose me to fall when we found the Aztia in order to stop Uther. The original plan was that for helping you defeat the emperor, thusly saving your continent, you would help me restore the smaller constellations back to the earth.”
“You wanted us to bring the stars back?” Iyana asked, hurt lining her voice as she frowned at Altair.
“Astalle, you need to know their plan and mine were very different. I was planning on falling and then living the rest of my long life in obscurity. I never thought about bringing anyone else down with me. The stars, even those of us who were against slavery, can be…aggressive. Possessive. I worried eventually temptation would call to even the strongest of us, and we would be back where we started.” He placed a gentle hand on Iyana’s face. “But then I met you, and I could no longer let Uther do as he pleased. Not when you lived in this world. I wanted to help you make it safe.”
Iyana put her hand over the star’s and closed her eyes. Emmeric couldn’t believe it; she was believing his lies.
“Mouse,” he warned, “you cannot trust what he’s telling you. Not without proof.”
“Is there any mention of the Aquila constellation in your book?” she asked.
“There’s no mention of any specific constellations, and no way to confirm he’s telling the truth.”
Caramel eyes met golden ones, and they spent several seconds staring at each other. “I trust him,” Iyana finally said.
Emmeric’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious! He—”
“Has helped us every step of the way!” she shouted at him, tearing her gaze away from Altair. “Phaedros take me, he came back with us to rescue you! He exposed himself to Uther, the man who wants to use him for some nefarious plan, to save you, Emmeric.”
“He’s got ulterior motives, Iyana! When are you going to wake up to see that?”
Iyana scoffed. “You’re just jealous.”
“I am not just jealous. I am just looking out for your best interests!”
She threw her hands in the air, small sparks of fire exploding from her. “I love him!”
Emmeric recoiled, speechless. She loved him. She loved him? Even after Emmeric laid out the entire sordid history of the stars, she still was going to sit here and say she loved him. Pursing his lips, he nodded slowly.
“Okay. I’ll drop it. But this is on you, Iyana. I’d hate to say ‘I told you so’ someday.” Then Emmeric left the group, sparing none of them a glance. He barely contained his anger and his hurt, and now he was thankful he didn’t have a method of blocking her. That rage…he hoped to all the gods Iyana could feel it through their bond. A reminder that she was physically and magically connected to his soul. Not Altair’s.
Phaedros take him, this woman was infuriating.