Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nova
It felt as if the ground beneath me had vanished and I was falling, tumbling, careening through nothingness.
I might have fallen forever if not for the steady hand that gripped my shoulder. Slowly, my gaze traveled upward, over the odd scar that split through the inside of his arm—a charred black line of rough, ruined skin. The scar on the opposite arm was identical. I couldn’t see his abdomen, but I wondered…did he have a mark splitting up the center of it, too?
These were the sort of scars that had destroyed my brother’s skin, according to the ones who had found him dead in his crib over twenty-four years ago.
Ripped apart by his own magic, they’d claimed.
I choked on a breath.
None of this made sense.
Those scars should have been smaller. More faded with time. And yet…the longer I stared at them, the more convinced I became that they had been left behind by magic, whether it had torn through him twenty-four years ago or otherwise. The gnarled twists of black clearly weren’t normal. I could sense something brooding beneath the surface of them, too—the energy of something far more powerful than any common blade or other weapon.
“Sit down,” the man suggested again, nodding toward the nearby bench.
I listened, this time, just barely making it to that bench before my knees gave out completely.
He hesitated a moment before sitting down beside me. We were silent for a long moment. I clenched my hands together in front of me to keep them from shaking.
“Who are you?” I asked, again, my voice cracking.
“My name is Bastian.”
I gripped my hands more tightly together. “No, it isn’t. It can’t be.”
I could feel him watching me closely, but I kept my eyes straight ahead, fixed on Phantom. The dog was still staring at us with interest, his ears fully perked and his head occasionally tilting, silently questioning if I needed him.
“Bastian is dead ,” I whispered. “He died when we were just infants.”
“…I didn’t die that night,” he said, after a long pause. “Though I came close, I’m told. Our adoptive parents and Orin ended up sending me back here, in hopes that the magic around this palace would help bring me to full health once more. Somewhat ironically, since they’d originally sent us to the Above to protect us from being overwhelmed by the very same magic.”
Orin.
The name was a lifeline, something familiar to grab hold of, tossed out into the sea of impossible revelations raging around me. And yet…now I felt as if the truth of my beloved mentor was in danger of slipping through my fingers, too.
Though I was afraid of his answer, I asked, “You knew Orin, as well?”
“Only by name, really. I was too young to remember the journeys he apparently escorted me on. He hasn’t been back here in nearly twenty-four years; it isn’t easy to cross between the realms, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
“So he knew the truth about what happened to you…”
“Yes.”
I squeezed my hands so tightly together I’m surprised I didn’t snap any bones. “No,” I said. “ No. You’re lying . He wouldn’t have kept such an enormous secret from me.”
His voice was astoundingly level—especially compared to mine—as he said, “I imagine he kept a lot of things from you, in hopes of keeping you safe for as long as possible, and keeping you away from this realm until you were ready to come home to it.”
“This isn’t my home,” I said, getting back to my feet.
Bastian stayed on the bench. “But it’s where you were born. Where we both were born into royalty. And you came into this world with the mark of the Vaelora in your palm…the last hope of this lost world that’s been decaying for centuries now.”
“The Vaelora…” I tried my hardest to match his even tone. “What are you even talking about?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging away some of the distress beginning to creep into his expression. I couldn’t help noticing how much that nose looked like mine. Narrow, gently sloped, a smattering of faint freckles across the bridge…
“It’s hard to imagine how thoroughly the truth has been scrubbed from the world above,” he said. “But it’s a plot centuries in the making, so…it makes sense that you wouldn’t be aware of any of it, I guess.”
“ What has been a plot centuries in the making ? Give me the plain truth, or I swear—this conversation is over .” I looked to the door of the palace, thinking of running back inside, either way.
I didn’t move, in the end, mainly because Phantom chose that moment to trot to my side and lean against it, nudging his head under my hand, urging pets. The solid weight of him held me in place as it had so many times in the past.
( Do you want me to bite his legs off? )
I numbly shook my head, but gave him a few extra ear scratches for the offer.
Red was dozing under a tree in the distance. I watched the tree’s flowers shaking loose above her, swirling down in the arms of the strange, warm wind that seemed a constant in this yard. It was tempting to follow each drifting petal, to let my mind drift with them and escape my current reality.
The man who claimed to be my brother took a deep breath and said, “This is how it used to be, for several millennia: Two worlds. One in the above, one here in the below. Soltaris and Noctaris, respectively—both of them fueled by the magic of the Aetherstone that rests between them. In the beginning, they existed in tandem, the Stone granting life and power to both. But over time, its magic failed to the point that only one world could be sustained. Bitter and bloody wars were fought over which world would live and which would die, until finally, the two most powerful magic users from each side stepped forward and made a deal.”
“A deal?”
He stood, moving closer to me, his gaze lifting toward the sky. The clear, perfectly calm, perfectly blue sky. It still sent a shiver down my spine to look at it. To think of how alive it looked—how all of this realm had supposedly looked, once upon a time.
“Yes, a deal,” Bastian said. “One that involved a ritualistic, periodic shifting of the Aetherstone’s magic, so that it concentrated on one world for a set period of time before shifting to the other. In every generation, a being known as a Vaelora was born within each world, and eventually, they were destined to meet and wield their powers together to turn the stone. Aequinoctium —or Equinox Day—it was called, when this turning took place.”
“I’ve never heard of any of those things.”
He lowered his gaze to mine, his voice turning solemn as he said, “Yes, because at some point in the past, the agreement was broken. The Stone didn’t turn toward Noctaris when it should have, and the Light Keepers and their minions have been working for centuries to keep the magic shining over their world, alone, and to scrub the Above of all knowledge of this world that lies below it. It’s a…complicated story.”
“It seems like an impossible story,” I said, frowning. “Especially considering there’s no knowledge of it that I can recall. I was well-read enough as a child and beyond—surely, I would have come across something about all of this in my twenty-five years.”
He mirrored my frown. “You’d be surprised how quickly knowledge can erode when the wrong people manage to put themselves in charge.”
I bit my lip, unable to bring myself to speak. My thoughts were racing too quickly to settle on words.
The Light Keepers …
Those were the dangerously powerful beings who essentially ran Aleksander’s kingdom. So did he know about any of this history? Again, it seemed impossible that they could have hidden the truth so thoroughly…
But they’d put an imposter on his throne, and he claimed he hadn’t seen that coming, either. So, maybe it wasn’t improbable that he was oblivious to whatever grander schemes those Keepers were concocting.
“It’s a lot to take in, I understand,” said Bastian, gently. “But you were always meant to come back here. You were a princess here before you were adopted by the King and Queen of Eldris—two rare, Above-world allies to our cause. Your true crown has been kept safe, deep inside this palace, ever since you left.”
I was staring at his nose again. And then his eyes—they had the same deep-set look as mine. His high cheekbones, his bow-shaped lips, the particular way of tilting his head and arching his brows. Such silly, small things we had in common. And yet…
“You really are... him , aren’t you?”
He gave me another sad smile. A slow, yet certain nod. The weight of all our lost years seemed to settle between us, crushing down all the things I wanted to say. It seemed unfair to be forced to make sense of him—of us —and all our broken pieces while also facing the earth-shattering revelations he’d just dropped at my feet. If all he was telling me was true…
Where was I supposed to start when it came to making sense of it all?
He rolled some of the tense weight from his shoulders. He seemed to be bracing himself, as though he’d only just skimmed the surface and he was preparing to dive deeper.
I couldn’t bear the thought.
“I have to go.”
“Nova, wait just a moment—”
I didn’t wait. I couldn’t wait. The gravity of the situation hit me, all at once, and I wanted to crumble underneath it—but I also didn’t want an audience for that particular breakdown. I called Phantom to my heel and headed inside.
But as soon as we stepped through the massive wooden door, we found ourselves facing another obstacle: Thalia.
Phantom bristled at the sight of her, a low, uncertain growl escaping him.
She darted a gaze toward the dog, but ultimately seemed unbothered by him. “You’re finally awake,” she said, her eyes sweeping over me, assessing. “That’s a relief.”
She did look relieved, but I wasn’t in the mood for niceties. My confusion was swiftly turning to anger that made my voice sharp. “Why did you bring me here?”
She seemed taken aback by my tone, but recovered quickly. “Because you asked me to bring you to Luminor.”
Luminor. Of course—the whole reason I’d descended into this dark world to begin with. With everything else that had happened, it had slipped my mind.
I gave her a skeptical look. “…It’s here?”
She nodded curtly.
It wasn’t enough to assuage my anger. “So you truly did know where it was, but you also knew the truth about this realm all along.”
She didn’t deny it. I hadn’t expected her to; I was getting used to her unapologetic attitude.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded.
She lifted her chin. “I had to make certain you weren’t working for the Keepers of Light. You or your companions. Those Keepers of the Above believe this world is entirely dead—and it’s imperative that they continue believing that, if we want to keep it safe long enough to carry out our plan to save it. A plan that we fully intended to involve you in, once you proved yourself trustworthy.”
“What kind of plan?”
She didn’t seem prepared to elaborate just yet, which did nothing to quell my irritation. Our silent standoff lasted long enough to allow my brother time to catch up.
“What plan do you have to save this world?” I asked, again, alternating my glare between the two of them.
Thalia folded her arms across her chest, and her expression darkened and closed down, as though she wasn’t entirely convinced I was trustworthy, even now.
Bastian laid a hand on her arm. I was surprised when she didn’t shrug it off; his relentless calm seemed to soothe even her prickly nature.
“There are several parts to that plan,” he told me. “And now that you’re here, you and your magic can help—”
“My magic is dangerously unpredictable.”
“Maybe. But we’ve seen what you can do. What you did for the wraiths outside of Erebos. And even before that, Thalia tells me.”
“I didn’t do any of it alone. My magic—my unpredictable magic—is affected by Aleksander’s, and we still don’t truly understand the nature of how it all combines.”
“…So I’ve heard.” His expression remained soft, but there was an undercurrent of urgency that made my own pulse race faster in response. “Nevertheless, you clearly carry the mark of the Vaelora, and the magic that comes with that. Magic that could be enough to turn the Aetherstone’s life-giving power in our world’s favor. Maybe with the Light King’s help, maybe not; there are things we need to work out, certainly. A lot of questions that still need answering.”
I took a deep breath, shaking my head. “Why do you need me for whatever your plan is? You have magic, too, don’t you?”
“Yes, but it’s nowhere near as strong as yours. I don’t carry the Vaelora’s mark. The only reason it’s as strong as it is, the palace scholars believe, is because I once shared a womb with you and absorbed some things. I’ve done what I could with what I had, helping to build up the protections and wardings of cities like Erebos. But I’m not the one who created any of those things. I’ve never managed to truly bring life back to this world, either, or…” He trailed off, a shadow crossing his features.
Silence settled. They both stared at me like they’d truly been waiting a lifetime for something—an answer, a sign—and here I was. Even Thalia’s usual hard features eventually softened, a flicker of something like hope in her eyes.
I could only shake my head again, my heart pounding with a mixture of disbelief and fear. “You’ve made a mistake. I’m not the savior you think I am.”
I started to back away. Thalia moved as if to stop me, but Bastian caught her arm again, his grip firm yet gentle. She shot him a sharp look, something unreadable passing between them. Her jaw clenched, and for the first time since I’d known her, I saw a flicker of something like uncertainty in her pale purple eyes.
Her mouth opened as if to argue, but Bastian spoke before she could, his voice low but full of a king-like authority: “Let her go.”
What he said beyond that, I didn’t hear.
Because I was already walking away.