4. The Reckoning
The Reckoning
"I must say, Last Light is far more... spirited than I expected from such a simple village."
No one moved. No one spoke.
"We had planned, of course, to wait until tomorrow's official ceremony to conduct our business," the priest said, his tone conversational. "But when we heard the music, the laughter echoing from these caves..." He smiled. "Well, we simply couldn't resist joining your celebration."
The wine in my stomach turned to acid. Around me, I could feel the tension ripple through the crowd.
"You see," the priest continued, his gaze sweeping across the cavern, "we've had such an educational stay in your charming village. Your hospitality has been... adequate." He paused beside Henrik, who was clutching his fiddle like a shield.
"Last week," the priest said, "we witnessed quite the celestial display above your cliffs."
Beside me, Sulien had gone absolutely still. I didn't dare look at him. Didn't dare breathe. Thatcher's spike of panic stabbed me through the bond .
The priest’s smile widened. "A blessed walks among you tonight."
The words crashed into the cave, ripples of fear spreading outward from their impact. Faces I'd known my entire life transformed—neighbors looked at each other with sudden suspicion.
"Now." The priest clasped his hands behind his back, beginning a slow circuit around the fire. "Divine law demands that all blessed present themselves for the sacred Trials of Ascension. It is, as I'm sure you understand, the highest honor that can be bestowed upon a mortal soul."
Liar. The word blazed through my mind with such force I was amazed it didn't burst from my lips.
"However," he continued, his voice taking on a note of false compassion.
"We are not unreasonable men. We are not without mercy.
We understand that some among the blessed may feel.
.. reluctant to embrace their destiny. Fear is natural.
" His pale eyes swept the crowd, lingering on face after face.
"Therefore, we offer this blessed soul the opportunity to step forward voluntarily. No questions asked."
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. My heart rattled in my chest. Every breath felt like it might betray me, every movement might draw their attention.
The priest let the silence build, clearly enjoying the fear he was cultivating. He moved past Lira, who had gone pale. Past Elder Keth, whose hands shook around his cup. Past children who pressed themselves against their parents' legs.
"Come now," the priest said. "Surely whoever performed such a magnificent display possesses the courage to claim credit for their artistry?"
Say something, I told myself desperately. Step forward.
But my throat was closed. Terror held me frozen as surely as if I'd been turned to stone.
Move. Say something. Do something .
My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Beside me, Sulien's breathing was shallow and rapid. His hand closed around my wrist.
"A pity." The priest sighed. "I suppose we'll have to do this the unpleasant way after all."
His gaze swept the cave once more, no longer casual. No, now he was hunting.
The priest's eyes stopped, fixed on a point somewhere behind me. His smile returned, cold and satisfied.
"You," he said, pointing. "The young man there. Step forward."
I turned, following his gesture, and my heart stopped.
Marel.
Two of the priests moved past me, seizing him by the arms before he could react. His face went blank with shock and confusion as they dragged him toward the fire, his feet scrambling for purchase on the sandy floor.
"No," he said, the word barely a whisper. "No, I don't—I'm not?—"
"Such a shame." The priest clicked his teeth, circling Marel.
"You could have made this so much easier for everyone.
Instead, you chose deception." He gestured toward the cave mouth, where torchlight flickered against the darkness.
"We observed you descending from the cliffs not an hour past. The very cliffs where the disturbance originated. "
Oh gods. The blood drained from my face as I understood. They'd seen him coming down from our overlook.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Marel said. "I was just walking. I haven't done anything. I'm not—I don't have any powers!"
Around us, the villagers were backing away, instinctively creating distance between themselves and whatever was about to happen.
I saw the fear in their eyes, but that fear wasn’t alone.
A terrible, shameful relief hid behind it.
Relief that it wasn't them. Wasn't their children being dragged forward.
"Of course you don't," the priest replied. One of the other priests produced a length of rope—but it was not ordinary rope. This rope sucked in all the light around it. "Hold out your hands."
"Please!" Marel's voice cracked, and the sound gnawed through me. "Please, I'm telling the truth. I don't know anything about stars or powers or?—"
“This is an honor,” the priest said as they bound his wrists. I watched his face contort with pain as it touched his skin. Whatever that material was, it burned.
Do something.
"It's me."
The words tore from my throat before I could stop them. Before I could think.
Every head in the cave turned toward me. The priest's smile widened.
"It's me," I repeated, louder this time, taking a step forward on unsteady legs. "I'm the one you want. Let him go."
"Thais, no," Sulien whispered beside me, his voice breaking on my name.
But I was already moving, pushing through the crowd toward the fire. Toward Marel and the priests and the end of everything I'd ever known. Behind me, I heard Sulien start to follow, heard Thatcher's shout of alarm from across the cave.
"How noble," the priest murmured as I approached. "But I'm afraid we can't simply take your word for it. We have quite compelling evidence that it is him." His pale eyes glittered as they flicked between Marel and me.
"Then I'll prove it," I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded.
"Thais, don't," Marel begged. "Whatever this is about, don't?—"
"I'll prove it," I repeated, never taking my eyes off the priest.
He cocked his head to the side, curiosity crossing his features. "Excellent. Please, demonstrate this gift of yours."
Behind me, I heard Sulien's sharp intake of breath. Heard Thatcher pushing through the crowd, calling my name. But it was too late for any of that now. Had been too late from the moment the priest pointed at Marel.
I raised my hands toward the cave's opening, toward the night sky beyond.
"Thais, please." Sulien's voice was raw with anguish. "Please don't do this. We can find another way. We can?—"
"There is no other way," I whispered, and reached up to touch the heavens.
Power rushed through me. Above us, a single star pulsed brighter than the others. Brighter than should have been possible.
Then it began to move.
Gasps echoed through the cave as the star detached itself from the constellation, blazing like a tiny sun as it descended toward us. I could feel its flicker, its weight, its ancient fire responding to my call.
Stop. Thatcher's voice in my mind, desperate and commanding at once. He'd fought his way to my side, his hands closing over my wrists. Thais, stop. Please.
But I couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. Not when Marel was about to pay for my cowardice with his life.
The star settled into my cupped palms. Around me, the people of Saltcrest—my people, my neighbors, my family in all but blood—stared at me with expressions of awe and terror and betrayal.
I was no longer one of them. Would never be again.
"Fascinating," the priest breathed, his eyes fixed on the orb of light.
"Stellar manipulation. Quite rare. Quite powerful.
" He gestured dismissively, and the priests released Marel, who stumbled backward with shock written across his face.
"You may go, young man. Our apologies for the inconvenience. "
I didn't resist as they bound my wrists, even though the rope burned against my skin like acid.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to Sulien as they dragged me toward the cave mouth.
"No!" Sulien lunged forward, reaching for me even as two villagers grabbed his arms to hold him back. "You bastards! Let her go!"
"I'm sorry," I called to Thatcher, who was fighting desperately against the hands trying to restrain him. "I'm sorry for everything."
We were nearly to the cave mouth when the priest spoke again.
"One moment." He studied Thatcher with the same intensity he'd focused on me. "You're twins, aren't you?"
My blood froze. Thatcher said nothing, his face a mask of stubborn defiance.
"Interesting," the priest mused, circling Thatcher. "If one twin is blessed..." He smiled that cold, beautiful smile. "Well. I suppose we'll need to test that theory."
"No," I screamed, struggling against the ropes that held me. "No, he doesn't have any powers! It's just me! Only me!"
"Seize him," the priest ordered.
"He's normal!" I shouted as two priests moved toward my brother. "He's completely normal!”
The priest tilted his head, considering. "I suppose we'll find out during the Proving, won't we?"
They bound Thatcher with the same burning ropes, his face stone as he refused to make a sound. Through our bond, rage simmered.
We’re going to figure this out. The words flew out of my mind and into his. Thatcher. Don’t attack them. You’ll only make things worse!
"And you." The priest had turned to Sulien, who stood alone by the dying fire. "The father who harbored not one but two blessed children. Who helped them evade their sacred duty, who kept them from their destiny."
"I did what any father would do," Sulien said quietly. "I protected my children."
"Yes," the priest agreed pleasantly. "And divine law is quite clear about the penalty for harboring the blessed."
The words slammed into me. "No. No, please, he didn't know?— "
"Of course he knew." The priest gestured, and one of the others drew a curved blade that gleamed like silver fire.
"Please," I begged, thrashing against my bonds until the ropes drew blood. "Please, I'll do anything. I'll come willingly, I'll?—"
"You'll come regardless," the priest said calmly.
Sulien dropped to his knees by the fire. He looked at Thatcher and me with eyes full of love and pride and terrible, terrible peace.
"I love you both," he said, his voice carrying clearly through the silent cave. "Remember that. Always remember that."
"Father, no!" I screamed. "Don't you dare! Don't you?—"
The world tilted sideways. My vision blurred, edges going dark and strange. My ears began to ring, a high whining sound that drowned out everything else.
Through the haze, I saw the blade begin its descent. Saw Sulien's peaceful expression in the firelight. Saw Thatcher struggling against his bonds, his mouth open in a cry I couldn't hear.
I tried to reach for the stars above us, tried to bring them crashing down, but there was no spark of my power left. My sight was failing, the whistling in my ears becoming a roar that swallowed everything.
The last thing I saw was the blade reflecting the firelight as it fell toward the man who had raised me, loved me and protected me for twenty-six years.
Then darkness took me, merciful and complete, stealing away the sight of my father's blood and the sound of my brother's screams.