Chapter 40 Caspia
Forty
Caspia
Ink stained my fingertips. The scrape of my quill against parchment mingled with the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth.
In the suns since the Malynn had sailed away from Roslo, Andreas and I had been inseparable.
We’d spent most of our time at the house, locked away and wrapped in each other’s arms. But we couldn’t hide from the world forever, and at dinner last evening, a missive had come, marking the end of our isolation.
The missive had come from his father, a summons to a meeting. Something about preparations. The castle was busier than normal today. So while I was spending my sun in this alcove of the library, Andreas was in a meeting room somewhere in the castle, dealing with his family.
As much as I missed spending countless hours in his bed—our bed, as he reminded me daily—it was time to get started on a task of my own.
It was time to tell my story.
Maybe there was a book in this library that described the continent of Kenn. A book that mentioned Nelfinex and Showe. If there was, neither Faxon nor I had found it yet.
So I was writing one of my own.
This journal would be a record that a world existed across the Marixmore. And maybe the next Starling who was called to Calandra for her ritus wouldn’t feel so lost.
Summers from now, maybe everyone in Calandra would know of Nelfinex. Maybe a voyager would set sail across the ocean in search of my beloved city, Showe. Or maybe this journal and the other on this table would spend generations in this library collecting dust.
All I cared about at the moment was penning my memories, my beliefs, and my culture onto these blank pages.
Since the thrum had stopped, my mind felt quieter. It made sifting through the memories easier. My visions had lessened, too. I’d only had one in the eight suns since the morning on the docks—a vision of Faxon speaking to Andreas about adopting Kos.
I flipped the page of my journal and dipped my quill into my ink pot.
Queen of the Starling
But before I could begin the tale of my aunt’s rise and reign, Faxon swept into the alcove, his arms laden with books.
“Here we are.” He set them on the edge of the table, wiping the damp from his brow with the back of his sleeve. “Some of those are quite heavy. If you’d like to take any of them with you when you leave, I’d be happy to escort you and carry them.”
“Thank you.” I closed the journal, set my quill aside.
I’d asked Faxon for any books about Calandran lore and history as well as accounts of past migrations.
Maybe if I scoured enough books, I’d learn why Calandra was different than Kenn.
I’d learn why the Voster had magic. Why I’d been so sick when I first arrived.
Why a Starling got trapped in her shifted form.
Maybe I’d find a way to save Xandra.
If she was still alive.
I reached for the book on the top of the stack. It was small, slightly larger than my hand, and more of a novel than a tome. “What’s this one?”
“Well, you asked me for anything about Calandra’s history. That is more a storybook than a history, but I thought you might find it interesting.”
I opened the cover to the title. Sonnet’s Ninety.
Faxon took a seat on the edge of the table. “It’s a collection of ninety stories written by a man named Sonnet. He was once a famed gladiator in Laine, never bested by man or beast. Because of his skill, he earned favor with Mack.”
Mack. Which god was he? The God of Death. Or maybe Izzac was the God of Death and Mack was the God of War? I got the Six jumbled up more often than not.
“Sonnet wandered the desert for ninety days during a migration,” Faxon continued.
“He had no magic or shelter or weapons. He should have been easy prey for the crux, but Mack took pity on him and gave him stories to tell the crux. For ninety days, Sonnet whispered those tales of magic and monsters and wars and legends. And when the crux finally left Calandra, he returned home to write this book. It’s more lore than fact, but it’s significantly more entertaining than some of these others. And it’s easy to carry around.”
“Thank you.” I set it with my journals. “Then I’ll take it home to read tonight.”
Faxon stood, smoothing the front of his scapular and adjusting the cord tied at his waist. He shifted from foot to foot, opening his mouth only to close it before speaking.
“What is it, Faxon?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. This was what he’d already spoken to Andreas about.
“Lady Caspia.” He squared his shoulders.
“I will understand if you refuse. I realize you may consider this an overstep. But I would be remiss if I didn’t ask.
I would like to ask your permission to adopt Kos.
My husband and I have often talked about having children, but we wanted it to be the right child at the right time.
Enough years passed, we both thought maybe that time would never come.
Then Kos arrived, and, well…we’ve both grown quite fond of the boy through our teachings. ”
Faxon’s husband, Gable, was the weapons master in the castle. He, like Faxon, had once taught Andreas, too. And now Kos was their student. It didn’t surprise me at all that the boy had stolen their hearts.
“I realize we’re getting on in age.” Faxon’s forehead furrowed as he clasped his hands together. “But our home is well established. Our family is simply missing—”
“Kos,” I said.
He nodded. “Andreas had no objection. But he urged me to ask you.”
“And you have my blessing.” I stood, walking to the bibliosoph to take his hands.
Tears filled Faxon’s eyes before he pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you.”
I laughed, hugging him back. “By the grace of the Divine, Kos is lucky to have you both.”
“Bless Daria for her luck and Arabella for her love.” He let me go and wiped his cheeks dry. Then he waved to the stack of books. “I will let you return to your work while I find Gable and share the good news.”
As he hurried from the alcove, I returned to my seat, a smile on my face. It had been a while since a vision had made me happy. Maybe in time, I’d forget the horrible futures I’d seen, the glimpses of death and loss. Maybe those visions would be overshadowed by those of love and life.
I shuffled through the books, picking one from the middle of the stack.
Migration Defenses: An Analysis
I opened the cover, then turned the title page only to have the paper’s edge slice into the pad of my finger.
“Damn.” I hissed, pulling away to inspect the cut.
A drop of blood welled on my fingertip. Dark-green blood.
My blood in Nelfinex was red.
The first time I’d seen this green blood was the sun I wandered through the streets of Roslo and got blisters from my slippers. I’d spent countless hours pondering how this was possible. How so much of my body had changed.
This had to be part of why the Starling were different in Calandra. Maybe the reason I’d been so sick when we first arrived was because every fiber of my being was altered, including the color of my blood. It had to be from the magic.
Had the Voster’s blood changed, too, when they came from Kenn? Or had they simply been gifted magic? As painful as our initial meeting had been, I’d endure it ten times over if I could have the chance to speak to Brother Nold again.
Every book I read just left me with more questions.
The sound of thudding boots made me hide my hand beneath the table just as Andreas strode into the alcove, his jacket unbuttoned and the ties beneath his throat loosened.
He looked frayed and frustrated, but his eyes crinkled as he gave me a soft smile, rounding the table to stand behind my chair, then bending to kiss my forehead. “Hello, my heart.”
The endearment was something he’d been using since the docks. I’d go through all the pain and anguish again just to hear him call me “my heart.”
“Long day?” I asked.
“Very. And unfortunately, not over quite yet. But I had a moment and wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m good.” I nodded to my stack. “Faxon brought me plenty of books.”
“I see that.” He chuckled. “Did he talk to you about Kos?”
I nodded. “Yes. I gave them my blessing.”
“I knew you would.” Andreas settled his hands on my shoulders. “I’m happy for them.”
“So am I.”
Andreas and I weren’t looking to give Kos away. We both cared deeply for him. But there’d never come a moment when I’d considered myself his mother. Andreas was not his father.
We loved him. But we were not his parents.
Kos was special, and the bond he’d formed with Faxon and Gable was unique. They belonged to one another. We’d simply been the link to unite a family.
Andreas sighed and kissed my forehead again. “I’d better go and finish my obligations for the day. How much longer will you stay?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d like to read for a while.”
Neither of us loved being in the castle. Andreas had his own reasons. I simply tired of the hushed whispers and gossip that seemed to follow me through the halls. But if I stayed hidden away in this alcove, I could pretend I was reading somewhere else.
“Some of these look heavy. Don’t even think about carrying them home.”
“Just the small ones,” I promised. “The rest can stay here until tomorrow.”
“Good. We can read some together tonight.”
Andreas was as eager as I was for answers about why the Starling and Voster were different in Calandra. While he was working during the sun, I muddled my way through these tomes. But after sundown, it was much faster for him to read, as I still stumbled over certain Calandran words and phrases.
He kissed the corner of my mouth, lingering long enough to send a shiver down my spine. Then he was gone, refastening the ties of his collar and buttoning his jacket as he left the alcove.
I waited until the sound of his footsteps faded before I lifted my hand from beneath the table. The bleeding had stopped. The cut was already healed.
My stomach knotted as I wiped the last hint of green on my skirt.
Even if it took me a lifetime, I would find the truth. I pressed two fingers to the center of my forehead. “I vow it.”
“What do you vow?” Kos bounded into the room, wearing a teal scapular that was clearly made for adults. It was bunched and rolled at the waist, and the cord was wrapped around three times to keep the fabric from pooling at his feet.
“Look at you.” I laughed. “Are you my librarian now?”
“No, I’m the bibliosoph.” He puffed up his chest, claiming the title of head librarian. “Do you need any books from the tall shelves? I can find the ladder and get ’em down.”
“I think you’d better leave those to Faxon, sweetling.”
Kos pouted. “He won’t let me climb up anymore since I almost fell, and he says I would have broken my neck if he hadn’t been there to catch me.”
“He’s probably right. Besides, don’t you have to go to weapons training soon?”
The boy tugged at the cord around his waist, freeing its knot. The scapular puddled at his feet as he wiggled free. “Want to come? I bet Gable can teach you how to use a sword.”
“Who says I don’t already know how to use a sword?”
“Do you?” He gave me a sideways glance. Always skeptical, my Kos.
Maybe in the future, he’d read my book about Nelfinex. And decide to find it for himself.