Chapter 17
Gaeren watched Aeliana leave with a tightness in his chest. He’d spent the last eight weeks looking forward to returning, but the reunion had been so brief.
It shouldn’t matter; they were barely even friends.
He remembered her as a child, but she had no memories of him.
She’d even spent much of their time together unwilling to trust him because of his royal status.
But when they’d finally set aside their differences and worked together against Mayvus, it had thrown them together in ways that felt far more intimate than any of his time with Lenda.
He frowned as he gathered supplies and joined the other men heading inland.
He should have gone to see Lenda like Fernandus suggested, but he’d been too eager to get away from his family before they decided to imprison him for his treasonous words.
He turned his palm over, examining the dark mark of raised skin.
It seemed smaller, like Enla had said, less present.
It hadn’t itched or twinged as much either, not since he’d first left Elanesse.
But after his sister’s painful experience with a broken bond, he couldn’t bear to cut it out and put someone through the same, even if their bond wasn’t taking.
Not without asking. He’d rather Lenda made that choice for herself.
Maybe it wouldn’t even be considered treasonous since he’d abandoned his role as throne warden.
He wanted the freedom that would come from the release of his bond, but he didn’t want the responsibility of taking it away from someone else. Did it make him a coward to hope Lenda might be willing to do that to him?
“I’m told you have memories to show me.” Felk’s voice rose above the murmurs of the men around them, his large blue eyes a welcome sight even if they were clouded with age. He had to be near his rebirth—was the new moon tonight or tomorrow?
Gaeren grinned and opened his arms to hug the creature, but Felk shrank away.
“I can only give you the memories if we touch.” Gaeren held out his hand instead. “My spoke as a noetic progeny allows me to pull memories from people nearby, but we have to be touching for me to give them to you.”
Felk stared at his hand. “Only because Mama said,” he grumbled.
When Felk gripped Gaeren’s hand, Gaeren sent a barrage of memories toward the winex, doing his best to keep them positive.
In the past, he’d shown Felk ways that the winex had failed their party, ways he’d reverted to his more predatory instincts.
But this time he saw no purpose in it. It was clear Felk and Lilik had made their home in the fortress, and there was no need to warn the creature about how tenuous his relationship with the people could be.
It didn’t take long, but the energy that drained from Gaeren left him as exhausted as if he’d climbed to the northern keep of the fortress and back. The starlock around his neck burned with its effort to feed his blood’s power, and he sagged under the weight of its use.
Felk’s eyes filled with tears that he self-consciously batted away before dropping his hand.
“We’ve been through far more together than I realized.” Felk frowned, staring out over the water.
“We are friends, though,” Gaeren said. “That will never change.”
Felk nodded. “I hope you’re right.”
The memories seemed to age Felk even faster than before, his shoulders hunching with the weight of all he’d seen. In some ways, Gaeren wished he’d been able to let the winex stay innocent and unaware of all their trials.
“Would you rather not know these things in your next life?” Gaeren asked.
Felk hesitated. “I’m not sure. I suspect I’ll want more time to decide than I have in this cycle.”
Gaeren nodded.
“It might not matter. Mama will want me to get them either way.”
Gaeren’s eyebrows rose. “They’re your memories. It’s your choice.” He felt the weight of Felk’s stare as if he was being judged for his words, but he wasn’t sure if Felk was pleased or bothered by Gaeren’s willingness to go against Aeliana.
Felk made his way through the crowd of sailors, greeting each of them and learning their names.
He seemed determined to show his tame side before they all reached his clan.
A wise move on his part. Erech greeted him the most exuberantly, then the two ran back and forth through the forest as they urged the other sailors to catch up.
By the time they reached the fortress, the sailors were beyond hungry.
Iris welcomed them all to the kitchen and dining hall as if she’d been running it all her life.
The meal was meager, making Gaeren wonder about their supplies.
Mayvus had probably had stores of food for her soldiers, but they would need to bring in more from the cities further south if they all remained here for any length of time.
Bartholem’s offer to sell starlocks suddenly seemed slightly less blasphemous and a bit more practical.
Gaeren ate quickly, his gaze wandering the room for the faces of those he’d left behind eight weeks ago. Velden and Sylmar greeted him, but Lukai and Kendalyhn were nowhere to be found. When Iris and Holm joined him at his table, he learned that Aeliana was dining privately with her parents.
“Where’s Orra?” Gaeren asked.
“She keeps to herself,” Holm said, reaching over Iris for a second slice of bread.
“She hunts for the stone starbridge like the rest of us.” Iris slapped Holm’s hand away, then passed him the platter.
“Not just the stone,” Holm muttered.
Iris shot him a look. “Not here.”
Gaeren tensed. “What are you talking about?”
Iris’ glare shifted to a sweet smile for Gaeren. “You’ll have to ask Sylmar, dear.”
“But he won’t tell you until he’s dragged you at least a mile from the fortress.” Holm used his finger to clean out the last bits of squash from his bowl.
Iris pulled the bowl from his grasp, her lips curled in disgust. “He’s being cautious.”
Holm pulled the bowl back, and despite Iris’ glare, he resumed scraping the bowl clean. “It’s a compliment to your cooking.”
Iris huffed and turned back to Gaeren. “If you’re looking for Orra, she often ends her day on the balcony of the northern keep.”
Gaeren shuddered. “That thing’s still standing?”
“I wonder if she’s strengthening it,” Iris admitted. “It almost seems more stable than before.”
“No,” Holm said. “I don’t think she’s willing to use her magic on something so trivial.”
“You’re one to talk,” Iris said, pulling the bowl away from him once more.
The two continued their banter, reminding Gaeren of Larkos and Calia in a way that made him homesick. Would he never be content where he was?
He excused himself, making his way through the maze of halls until he reached the battlements surrounding the northern keep.
The sight brought back painful memories, vivid images playing through Gaeren’s mind whether he wanted them to or not.
Sometimes it was a gift to be a noetic progeny, to hold on to those memories so clearly, but other times it was a curse.
His mentors had taught him to tamp down the memories he didn’t want, but the stronger the emotions surrounding the memory, the harder it was to ignore.
He closed his eyes, remembering the sight of Aeliana, branded by Mayvus, walking toward the evil woman against her will. The need to save her, even if it required performing his own branding ceremony. He opened his eyes and ran his hand over the scar on his palm.
At one time he would have scorned someone’s use of blood magic. He probably would have fought to have them detained. But now he understood that blood magic in and of itself wasn’t wrong. It had far more to do with the intention behind it.
He would do it all over again if it meant he could save Aeliana.
“You’ve returned.”
Gaeren swiveled at the sound of Orra’s voice.
Her skin seemed paler than he remembered, more cream than brown.
The waning moon still managed to reveal her frailty, leaving him shocked, not because she looked worse than before, but because she didn’t look much better.
He’d thought she would have been back to her full strength, especially knowing what she was—who she was—but she seemed nearly as exhausted as when he’d last seen her.
“You look tired,” he said. “You’re using too much energy.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Telling a woman she looks tired is the same as telling her she looks awful. It’s never a wise move.”
Gaeren barked out an awkward laugh. “I just mean you need to rest.”
“I’ve spent far too long resting. There are things that need to be done, and now is the time to do them. I’ll have time to rest later.”
He shook his head, irritated that he’d already forgotten how cryptic her words could be. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out the golden arrow.
She shivered as he held it out, then reached out to take it, her fingers trembling as they hovered over the starbridge. Her gaze traveled to the dancing Stars.
“Maybe I should let you keep it for me,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“It seems that every time I find one of these, a different one slips through my fingers.”
Gaeren considered her words, the way they’d come full circle in their hunt.
At one time he’d wanted the starbridges for himself, first to find Aeliana, then as a means of leverage—whether to protect Enla or Aeliana.
But Orra’s need for them seemed far greater, her purpose far more important.
But as always, she held her reasons close, closer than he’d been allowed.
“What exactly do you hope to gain from gathering them?”
Her eyes closed, her hand still a finger’s breadth away from the arrow. “Everything. And nothing.”
He sighed, tucking the arrow back into his pocket. “I think I’ve figured out who you are.” He’d come to terms with her being a Star, with her being Sheen even, but now that he stood before her, he felt ridiculous suggesting it. “Is that why my magic doesn’t work on you? Because you’re a Star?”