Chapter 3 Caspia #2
Emery once told me that her senses had sharpened and changed after the ritus. She’d lost her love of crystalized lemon and candied honey. I hoped that when my transformation was complete, I still loved the smell of the sea.
We passed door after door as we walked the length of the palace. Each belonged to a suite occupied by a Starling. Sisters. Cousins. Aunts. Great aunts. Grandmothers.
A giggle echoed from an open room. A girl with wild, bouncing red curls—Starling hair—came racing out and into the hall with a fenek giving chase.
“Graciella.” I smiled and bent to a crouch, arms opening wide.
She crashed into my chest, laughing as I swept her up and spun her in circles. “Hi, Aunt Caspia.”
“How is my sweetling girl?” I kissed her cheek and tapped her freckled nose before setting her down.
She pushed a stray curl out of her face. “Bored and hungry. We’re sneaking into the kitchens for a treat. It was Hop’s idea.”
“Oh, was it?” I reached to scratch behind Hop’s ears. “Hello, my pretty pet.”
He nuzzled against my leg and purred. His cinnamon fur was nearly the same shade as the tiled floor, rich and warm and soft.
The white tusks that extended below his jaw were as bright as the walls.
Hop swished his bushy tail, then nudged Graciella’s hand, a silent order for her to follow him into mischief.
“Don’t get caught,” Xandra warned.
Graciella laughed, her gold eyes dancing as she skipped after my pet. “I never get caught.”
Xandra shook her head as we continued down the hallway for the staircase that would take us to the mews. “That girl is too much like her mother.”
The ache in my chest was instant. “That she is.”
Graciella was only six summers, but even this young, she was Emery’s in every way. They were mirrors of each other in looks and personality.
It surprised no one that Aunt Oleana had taken over care of Graciella after Emery’s disappearance. Oleana had done the same when my mother left Nelfinex, leaving three daughters behind. And Emery had always been Oleana’s favorite niece.
The niece she now refused to discuss.
Maybe she’d listen this morning. For Graciella’s sake, for Emery’s honor, I would try.
One last time.
We reached a set of curving stone stairs and climbed to the level above. The sounds of beating wings and chirping notes greeted us when we reached the landing.
The mews were still full this early. Nearly every nest was taken by a swift.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, by the time the temperature reached its peak, these nests would all be empty.
The massive birds would leave the palace to hunt the large elk and goats that inhabited Nelfinex’s rocky mountains.
But for now, they were crowded and noisy.
I walked to the closest nest, to a young female with glossy black feathers. “Hello, pretty girl.”
She lifted her enormous beak to my outstretched hand, then nuzzled closer so I’d stroke the feathers between her dark eyes.
Most swift lived in the wild, but a select few of the smartest and strongest stayed in the mews.
Xandra wandered to the opposite end of the space to find Bisten, her favorite male and the largest swift who called this palace home. His auburn feathers had a golden sheen in the early-morning light.
“Caspia.” My aunt’s voice rang through the room, carrying over the other noise.
She stood at the mouth of an open archway, hands clasped behind her back, staring out over Showe. Her expression was blank and unreadable.
Oleana’s hair was bound by thin straps of leather. The plait they formed fell down her spine in a thick line. She was dressed in an amber gown, the light fabric swishing in the breeze above her bare toes.
She’d never had children, choosing instead to raise me and my sisters as her own. Of her three nieces, it was said that I took after her most. That when she’d been my age, we would have been mistaken for twins. We had the same straight nose and bow-shaped lips. The same oval face and delicate chin.
In appearance, we might have been similar. But in spirit, we were as different as the sun and the moons.
Aunt Oleana wasn’t a loving woman. She was a leader, a ruler, and a politician. She was bound by duty to her people, to this country, and to our bloodline.
She viewed my tender heart as a weakness. A queen could not afford affection. Not even for the girls who were raised as her daughters.
As I joined her, the female swift I’d been petting stood, stretching her wings as much as the space would allow. She hopped to another archway, and with a single push off her strong legs, she leaped from the ledge, her wings stretching wide. The spikes at their leading edge sliced through the air.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Aunt Oleana asked as I took the place by her side, both of us watching as the female flew higher and higher.
“Yes.”
“If Graciella isn’t able to shift after her ritus, I’ll pair them as riders.” She spoke so quietly it seemed more of a passing thought than a statement she’d meant to share. A dread she hadn’t meant to voice.
“Why don’t you think she’ll be able to shift?”
“A contingency plan.” Oleana gave me a small smile, her eyes dropping to the bands clasped around my arms. That hint of a smile vanished.
At twenty-five summers, I was long overdue for my ritus. Oleana had shifted at fifteen. Emery and Saskia both by sixteen.
My mother left Nelfinex when I was a baby, and since no one in my family spoke of her, I wasn’t sure if or when she’d gone through her ritus.
Every Starling felt the calling at her own time, and there was no rushing or forcing the change.
We simply prayed to the Divine that it called.
Xandra’s mother, my aunt Ophelia, had never gone through a ritus. Neither had her eldest daughter, Hara. They’d been born with Starling blood, yet they could not shapeshift. They would forever be Quiescents, flying on the backs of the swift rather than wings of their own.
Xandra’s biggest fear was that she’d never go through a ritus.
So was mine.
In the Starling’s written history, there was no record of the gift ever failing to manifest. To my aunt’s knowledge, Ophelia had been the first. Hara the second.
As much as I hated to think there was a chance I’d never be a Starling, it was possible. The gift in our blood might have passed me over. It could happen with Graciella, too.
“Emery shifted at sixteen,” I told Aunt Oleana. “Her gift was strong. I’m certain she gave it to Graciella.”
The queen stayed quiet.
As always, any mention of Emery was met with silence. Just like the mention of our mother.
The only thing Aunt Oleana had ever said about my mother was that she’d been a dreamer. Part of me wondered if my mother’s “dreams” were visions like mine.
A piercing scream carried from above a moment before a huge male swept down from the palace’s towers. Then came a shout, free and joyous, as the bird leveled out, wings outstretched. Hara rode on his back, her saddle harnessed around his chest.
My cousin, with a beaming smile, twisted to wave.
Oleana lifted her arm to wave back. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought the moisture in her eyes was tears. But I knew better.
She did not cry.
My aunt was not a woman to accept unfortunate fates. Instead, she’d built these mews so that the swift we tamed could be Ophelia’s and Hara’s wings. So that my daring cousin could fly, even if that meant doing so on the back of her precious bird.
In two or three or four generations’ time, maybe the Starling gift would have dwindled to nothing more than a memory. Maybe by that time, whatever it was in our blood that made my lineage special would be so diluted that we’d lose the gift entirely. But this way, we could still fly.
Hara and her male flew beyond the city walls, his horns gleaming beneath the sun as they raced into the distance.
“You must begin to tend to Bisten.” Aunt Oleana turned and nodded to where Xandra stood, stroking the swift’s feathers.
“Why?” Bisten’s temper was legendary, and he snapped at all the keepers except for Xandra. My cousin loved his prickly temperament, but I found it irksome. “He’s better suited to Xandra.”
“Possibly. But I have chosen him for you.”
I nodded, knowing better than to argue. Oleana had a reason for every decision.
Like Bisten could sense we were going to be stuck with each other, he let out a low chuff and set off for an archway window, leaving his nest empty as he flew away from the palace.
Xandra went to the rack of tools to get started on her chores. For those of us who had not gone through the ritus, our suns started with chores. Xandra and I were assigned to the mews, and when we were finished here, we’d move on to lessons and weapons training.
“If necessary, she can choose a different male,” Oleana said. “She gets on well with most.”
“I hope it won’t be necessary. For either of us.”
“So do I.”
Our country was vast, the largest on the continent of Kenn. But Oleana was not the only ruler, and the three southern countries were controlled by tyrants.
If they suspected the strength of the Starling was weakening, they wouldn’t hesitate to strike. The kings from the south were as hungry for power as they were for land.
We needed to stand strong.
We needed to ensure that anyone who harmed a Starling was dealt a fast death.
“Aunt Oleana, I must tell you something.”
She turned to face me, her attention fixed so firmly I nearly shied away. “Your ritus? Do you feel it calling?”
“No.” Not yet.
“I see.” Disappointment flashed over her face before she schooled her expression to cold indifference. “What must you tell me?”
I steeled my spine. “I had a vision of Emery’s death again.”
If there was any hint of warmth in Oleana’s golden eyes, it vanished. “Emery is not dead.”
“I don’t want to believe it’s true, either. But what if—”
“She’s not dead.” Her voice was as sharp as a blade.
“She left us to go on some ridiculous journey with that man. She abandoned her family, her daughter, when I expressly told her she was not to leave. She defied my order. She has forsaken her duty. But she is not dead. She will return and take her rightful place.”
“But the vision—”
“Enough.” Oleana sliced a hand through the air.
I hid my fists behind my back. “I’ve had the same vision of Emery six times, Aunt Oleana. It’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt. There is a man with silver eyes who—”
“I said enough,” she shouted, so loud I rocked back on my heels. “You will not speak of this again. I forbid it, Caspia.”
It wasn’t an order from my aunt. It was a command from my queen.
I ducked my chin, ever the obedient princess. “Yes, Majesty.”
She hooked a finger under my chin, tilting up my face until I met her gaze. “They are only dreams, Caspia. That’s all they’ve ever been. Nothing more. Your sister is alive. And by the grace of the Divine, she will return soon.”
Dreams. No matter how many had come true, no matter how often I pleaded with her to believe, they’d only ever be dreams. “Yes, Aunt Oleana.”
She cupped my cheek. “We must focus on our family. This country. The Beesan king has been pushing against our southern border. If he learns that Starling blood is wilting, he may get reckless ambitions. I will not let a single Nelfinex person suffer the same fate as the Velvi’os-telfer.
We will not be driven from our own land and hunted to near extinction.
We must stand strong. Together. Do you understand? ”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Good. Now, get on with your work.” She swept past me and walked to the stairs, lifting the hems of her skirts as she set off for her auditorium, where she’d spend the sun ruling our country.
I waited until she was gone before I let my shoulders sag.
Xandra abandoned her shovel and crossed the room, joining me at the open archway. “I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you to tell her. I thought… I thought she might listen.”
“It’s not your fault.” It wasn’t my aunt’s, either.
She didn’t want to believe Emery was gone, and my visions were something she simply could not understand. Only two people had ever believed they held merit.
Xandra.
And Emery.
When—if—I went through the ritus, would the visions stop? Part of me hoped I’d never dream again.
Turning away from Xandra, I let my gaze wander to the ocean, where waves crashed against the shore. The coastline was as blue as an azure jewel, the sand as bright as our uniforms. The water was endless, darkening as it stretched toward the unknown.
A tingling sensation crept up my arms, raising bumps on my flesh. My blood stirred. Something inside me tugged toward that dark blue, pulling so hard I took an involuntary step forward and gasped.
The ritus.
“Caspia?” Xandra asked. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I lied, not ready to name the sensation quite yet. I lifted my hand to the pendant resting over my heart, and the elfalter metal warmed as I covered it with my palm.
There were answers across the sea. Answers for Emery. Answers for myself.
Oleana had told me the ritus beckoned us in different ways. Some were called to journey into the mountains. Others would trek across the desert.
My future was beyond Nelfinex’s shores.
“Oh, I don’t like that look,” Xandra muttered.
I tore my gaze from the sea, feigning surprise. “What look?”
Her mouth flattened into a thin line. “The look that says you’re going to get us into trouble.”