Chapter 7
One would hesitate to assume that eleven Constellations could be so easily toppled; yet, it is the opinion of several scribes, most notably Sophia Alquentias, that inner turmoil within the Stars is the only justification for such distraction, allowing Dominion’s assertion of supremacy.
The Decline and Fall of the Constellations
AQUARIAN DID NOT LOOK LIKE a prison with its stone roads and bustling markets, but Astraia had never felt more caged.
The length of the town ran along the Hydraneas River, with docks dotting the river’s edge, making easy access for rafts and small vessels. It was the heart of trade between Tenebris, Villeria, the Hollow City, and practically every outlying province of Astradeon.
The manacles stifling her bonds and the massive bounty hunter beside her drew too much attention. Between his enormous build, eyes like the sun, and menacing broadsword, he would certainly be a beacon for trouble.
She needed to find a way to get the cursed shackles off her and vanish into the crowds. Astraia had lost count of the number of ways she planned to kill the bounty hunter, but none would be successful with her hands bound.
She twisted in the saddle, biting back the thousand venom-laced words that wanted to claw out of her throat.
Draven rode just ahead, reins loose, his posture annoyingly at ease.
“So how does one stoop to the position of lap dog, bounty hunter? You must either be incredibly stupid or incredibly desperate to owe the king your allegiance. Willing to capture innocent Starborne for torture at His Majesty’s command.
” Her voice was placid, hoping to elicit the undercurrent of rage she knew brewed beneath his icy exterior.
He did not glance back, but she could see him straighten in his saddle.
He laughed—soft, bitter. “If you think innocence has anything to do with survival, you’re living in a fairy tale, Starborne.
” He paused, casting a sideways glance as she rode beside him.
“You think I owe him allegiance? I owe him nothing.” His teeth clenched, words clipped.
“I have a skill of collecting things that bleed.”
His eyes met hers, unreadable. “You included.”
Before she could spit another curse, a scream pierced the air.
The people crowding the street stopped, heads turning. A hush fell over the people as the crowd parted like waves, citizens stumbling back and ducking into shops, covering their mouths with trembling hands.
A man stumbled forward through the gap of people, clutching his chest, his skin pale and hanging loosely over his thin frame. Dark crimson splotches mottled his skin, blood oozing from some of the open sores, his eyes wild as he spoke with a raspy voice. “Please, help. Please…”
His hand reached out to the surrounding crowd, but no one moved, some covering their mouth with their cloaks and backing further away.
The man shuffled forward another step before collapsing onto the stone road, choking on his own breath as blood-tinged foam trickled out the edges of his mouth.
Astraia watched, frozen, realization hitting her.
The Plague.
Her hands flexed against her manacles, her instinct to heal overtaking common sense.
“He’s infected,” she breathed.
Draven pulled her horse closer to his, scanning the crowd for any threats.
She eyed him sharply. “I’ve seen this before. I worked in the slums of Tenebris helping to treat it.”
“Not without your bonds, you didn’t,” he replied, turning their horses toward a side street.
Astraia jerked her shackled wrists upward. “Take them off. Let me help him.”
Draven laughed. “So you can flare and burn the town and me to ash? I think not.”
“If I flare, restrain me. But if I don’t help him, he will die.”
Draven stopped the horses, staring at her with a brow raised. “Why do you care? I can see the way your mind schemes of destroying anyone in your path. This man is a hindrance.”
“I care because I know what it is like to feel helpless in the dark.” Her voice was soft. “And as a healer, I cannot live with myself if I stand by and do nothing as he dies.”
“They will see you. They’ll know what you are. You’re willing to expose yourself?” His eyebrow quirked upward.
Loath as she was to admit it, the bounty hunter was right. She had been so cautious in Tenebris. Starborne were hated by most, scapegoats for the dismal state of the realm. Secrecy helped to keep her from hatred and harm. But a soft voice in her mind pushed her forward, tugging on her heart.
“Yes,” she replied.
He let out a long exhale, running his fingers through his tousled hair. “You get ten minutes,” he said, already dismounting from his horse. “One flare, and I swear—”
“You’ll cage me again. Understood.” She held out her wrists. “Now do it before he dies.”
His hands moved achingly slow, retrieving a key from around his neck, his brows furrowed. He was battling with himself, that much was apparent.
Astraia breathed deeply as he turned the key and the manacles slid off her wrists. It only took seconds before a distant warmth rushed back to her spine. A flicker of her bonds breathed to life inside her, her mind focused with clarity once more, a part of her soul restored.
Her bonds enveloped her like a cocoon, edging to her core and into her hands. It would be too easy to flare and force Draven to cower, but she bit down on her contempt and pulled on her tether, forcing the bonds to quiet.
Breathing deeply, she swung her leg over Orion’s saddle and hopped down onto the cobblestone.
Draven stood mere inches from her, staring down at her with suspicion. “Do not test me, Starborne.”
Astraia couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She could have sworn she heard him curse as she strode past him, straight for the infected man who was still convulsing on the ground.
Many onlookers had dispersed, eager to put distance between themselves and the Plagued. The spectators who remained whispered amongst themselves as Astraia approached, gasping as she knelt beside him.
She surveyed his wounds, noticing he likely had been infected for some time, given the extent of damage the boils had caused to his eyes and hands.
Steeling herself, she closed her eyes, diving into her Sacrifice bond, allowing it to rise to the surface of her mind. Making sure she held firm to her tether, she pushed the bond beyond her spine, into her fingertips.
Astraia did not have to open her eyes to see the bright blue light illuminated her hands, the crowd gasping and someone whispering, “Starborne.”
Ignoring the mutterings, she stretched out her hands, placing them gently on the chest of the man, allowing warmth to seep from her into his cold skin.
For a moment, she allowed a memory of Elion to flash before her closed eyes.
They were racing down the beach on horseback.
Sand kicked up behind their horses as they flew across the beach, wind whipping through Astraia’s dark hair.
Elion laughed as he tried to pass her, his face moving in slow motion, as if frozen in time.
Astraia’s breath slowed as she packed away the memory inside the corner of her mind, then released more of Sacrifice, feeling the Plague lift from the man.
She opened her eyes, seeing the boils fade and color return to his skin as his breath became more even. More gasps filtered through the crowd, watching as death lost its victim.
Astraia began to rein in her bond, the blue glow fading from her hands. Peering out of the corner of her eye, Draven approached, the clanking of the manacles making her pulse quicken.
She stood slowly, backing away from the healed man and from Draven.
“You said ten minutes. That’s all I needed.” Then she whispered—not to Draven, but to herself, “No more cages.”
She stared into his amber eyes, lingering a moment longer than she should before forcefully channeling Power, driving it forward .
A blinding white light erupted around her, more screams rippling through the townspeople, before she vanished.