Chapter 3 Caspia
Three
Caspia
A man with silver eyes drives his sword through Emery’s heart. Feathers turn to flesh. Wings collapse to arms. Talons transform to toes.
She falls from the stars with the silver-eyed warrior.
My sister plummets to the earth.
Until there is nothing but blood and dust.
…
I woke from the vision with a jolt. My hair was stuck to the sweat on my brow, and every bone in my body felt as if it had been crushed, like I’d been the one to fall from the starry sky. There was a punishing ache in my chest, like the sword had gone through my heart, not Emery’s.
“Not again.” My hands gripped the bedsheets as I closed my eyes, giving my heart a chance to sink back down my throat. Then I kicked the blankets from my legs and stood, shuffling across the stone floor to the open windows of my room.
The salt breeze kissed my cheeks. The cool air filled my lungs. The scents of spice and sweet smoke floated to my nose.
The vision of Emery’s death would haunt me for hours, and as the weight of her loss settled on my shoulders, I sagged against the open sill, staring down at the sleeping city sprawled beyond the palace’s feet.
Moonbeams bathed Showe in gray and white. The streets were empty. The city was quiet, though that silence wouldn’t last long.
Soon, the sun would rise from the ocean’s depths to kiss the sky good morning.
By dawn, the coastline would be dotted with fishermen steering boats with colorful sails.
Wagons would stream toward the countryside fields to collect a harvest. Herdsmen would ride their steeds beyond the city’s walls to tend to their flocks.
And miners would pile into carts bound for the elfalter mines, where they’d reap the precious metal from Nelfinex’s rock.
The noise and chaos from Showe’s streets would filter through every open window in the palace, making it impossible to sleep. Not that I’d have time. Not with my chores and strict training regimen.
I’d be smart to crawl back in bed and rest until dawn, but I knew the moment I closed my eyes, I’d see Emery and the silver-eyed warrior.
Who was he?
Where was she?
I shifted to a seat in the wide windowsill, hugging my knees to my chest. In my heart, I knew she’d left for a good reason. But if my vision was true, if Emery had been murdered by that man and called to the afterlife by the Divine, we’d never know why she’d met that horrible fate.
I’d never have the chance to say goodbye.
“Emery,” I whispered to the wind, hoping the vision was wrong. Hoping the sun would come when she’d whisper back.
It wasn’t my first sleepless moon spent in the window, soaking in the light from the stars. By the time golden rays shone on the horizon, my back was stiff and my eyelids heavy. My body would be sluggish during training, and I could already hear the lecture from my tutors.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway beyond my bedroom. A moment later, knuckles tapped on the door and the knob turned. Xandra never waited for an answer or invitation.
“Caspia, are you awake? If not, wake up.” My cousin walked into my room and clapped twice.
Her long, coppery red-and-orange curls were pulled into a tight knot at her nape.
She was in uniform, her ecru pants molding to the lean curves of her hips and thighs.
The matching sleeveless vest left her strong arms bare.
Wrapped around her biceps and forearms were the elfalter metal bands that indicated her station. Our station.
Quiescent.
Xandra and I were both waiting to go through the ritus. Then we would be Starling, and those gleaming armbands would be replaced by rings on each finger.
Rings to represent loyalty to our country. To the Nelfinex people. To our family.
To the Starling.
“I’m awake.” I unfolded my knees and swung my legs over the windowsill to hop down.
Xandra took in my unmade bed and flowing white robe. My own fiery-red curls were loose and hanging to my waist. Normally when she barged into my room, I was fast asleep, drooling on a pillow. Those two claps of hers had become my morning call to arms.
Her eyebrows knitted together as I slumped on the edge of my bed. “You had another vision, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” There was no point denying it. I didn’t need a mirror to know my eyes were haunted.
“Was it the same one? About Emery?”
I nodded, picking at my thumbnail.
“Vexx,” she cursed.
“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that word.”
Cursing was strictly forbidden for the Quiescent. We were to be the epitome of stoicism, and cursing was an emotional crutch, according to my aunt.
Xandra frowned. “I know you don’t want to tell her about the visions again, but—”
“I don’t.” I stood and walked away from my cousin—from this conversation—and into my dressing room.
Aunt Oleana didn’t want to hear about my visions, especially this one. No matter how many times I told her they were more than dreams, she’d only ever considered them my imagination run wild. She dismissed them as nonsense, as moon terrors that would stop after the ritus.
Even when the visions were true, when I had proof that what I saw had happened, she didn’t believe. I’d stopped telling Oleana about them when I was sixteen. For years, I’d acted as her dutiful Quiescent, and if she wondered whether or not I still had dreams, she hadn’t asked.
But after this vision of Emery had come again and again, I’d decided to break my silence.
She’d dismissed it with a flick of her wrist.
So no, I wasn’t going to tell her about it again.
Clothes littered the floor of my dressing room. There was a towel in the doorway to my bathing chamber. The chest of drawers against the wall was nearly empty, its contents strewn in various piles.
I stripped off my robe, tossing it onto the nearest heap that I’d sort through later. Then I rummaged through the mess for the cleanest of my uniforms. All were wrinkled and had been worn at least once.
Instead of sitting in my window, I should have done my washing. But laundry was my least favorite chore and the least of my worries, so I donned my pants and vest, the same as Xandra’s, and began braiding my hair in twin rows.
Xandra was making my bed when I emerged from the dressing room.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind.” She shrugged and straightened a pillow. “Where’s Hop?”
“Graciella asked if he could sleep in her room.”
“If you’re not careful, she’s going to steal your fenek.”
“You’re probably right.” I laughed, righting a corner of the linen blanket, running a hand over the saffron-colored fabric. Then I sat on the bed’s edge to pull on my knee-high leather boots.
Xandra took a seat at my side. “If you tell her, she might believe you this time.”
“She won’t.” Of that, I had no doubt.
“But this is the only vision that has repeated. That must mean something.”
“Yes,” I murmured as a sinking feeling settled in my belly.
I’d had visions my entire life. They’d come infrequently when I was a child, but as I’d grown from Nestling to Quiescent, as I’d matured into a woman, they’d come more often. Sometimes every four or five suns.
Yet in all that time, the vision of Emery and the silver-eyed warrior was the only one I’d had more than once. Last moon’s marked the sixth time.
Nothing good came from the number six.
“You must tell her, Caspia. If not for your own peace of mind, for Graciella. If it’s true, she has the right to know her mother isn’t coming back. And if Emery has been murdered, there must be retribution.”
She was right. We both knew she was right. Vexx.
For Graciella’s sake, I needed to tell my aunt. And Emery deserved vengeance.
It was the Starling way.
“Fine,” I muttered.
“Thank you.” Xandra took my hand, holding it tight.
With her other, she lifted the elfalter pendant hanging around her neck and brought it to her lips.
The red-and-orange metal glimmered in the sunlight.
The silver wing inlaid into the circle sparkled like a star.
“By the grace of the Divine, she will listen.”
I lifted my own necklace, pressing a kiss to the emblem of Nelfinex, of the Starling, as I gave a silent prayer.
By the grace of the Divine, give us the rite.
By the grace of the Divine, turn us true.
“We should go.” I stood, tugging at the hem of my vest in the hopes of it working out a few wrinkles.
“To speak to Aunt Oleana?” Xandra asked.
“Yes. Before I lose my nerve.”
“Make a vow. Then your courage won’t wane.”
The Starling honored loyalty. We believed in vengeance and strength and discipline. But above all else, we kept our vows. Or died trying. So I pressed two fingertips to the center of my forehead. “You have my vow.”
“Thank you.”
I went to the tray on my vanity where I kept my elfalter bands and quickly slid them on my forearms and biceps. Then I followed Xandra out of my room.
She and I took the nearest staircase, jogging up eight flights. When we reached the palace’s top floor, we passed a servant coming out of Saskia’s suite.
“Princess Caspia. Princess Xandra.” His caramel eyes were bright as he passed us for the stairs, carrying a tray with Saskia’s half-eaten breakfast.
“Good morning.” I returned his warm, kind smile.
Once we were through the ritus, once we were Starling, the servants and attendants would be required to drop to their knees and bow when we met them in the halls. They would treat us as they did the Starling. As they did Aunt Oleana, the queen. For once we completed our ritus, we would be royalty.
But we weren’t Starling yet.
I’d miss the easy smiles and casual greetings. I’d miss the informality of being a Quiescent. I’d miss my room on the middle level of the palace, where I was closer to the city. I’d miss visiting the Nestlings each afternoon in the libraries.
At least as Starling, I wouldn’t have to do my own laundry.
Xandra and I walked past a row of arched openings that overlooked the city and the Marixmore Ocean beyond. The scents of sage and citrus and salt wafted into the hall, and I drew in a deep breath, holding it in my lungs.