Chapter 80
Orra stood in the courtyard as hordes of Ahmranans ran past her.
A few paused occasionally as if debating whether they should engage her.
But after being in the presence of Stars for several moons, it seemed they’d developed a recognition for what she was or what she’d been.
They passed her by, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth the risk.
Their high cheekbones and golden tattoos brought back memories of life before the Great Divide.
The Ahmranans were a prideful people, but not without reason.
They held more starblood than most half-lights, partly because they’d intentionally bred themselves that way, the same way the royal family verified starblood concentration before bonding their children.
But the Ahmranans had taken it to a different level, often turning those without magic into slaves. Perhaps they’d changed in the last thousand years, but if her experience with Lance and Victor during her days as Pirate Redwood was any indication, they were just as harsh as they’d always been.
“Have you seen Reyna?” she asked a few people passing by.
One woman side-eyed her. “She’s with the other Stars,” she said noncommittally before continuing on.
Orra scanned the people, looking for someone who might have more authority. The crowd grew thicker, forcing everyone’s progress to slow, which worked in Orra’s favor.
A tall lanky man stood out with twice as many tattoos as the others, his chest strapped with dozens of daggers and his starlock held in place at his collarbone with a bright red piercing meant to draw the eye to his power.
She placed her hand on his arm to stop him, then sucked in a gasp as a familiar darkness welled in him.
“Victor,” she murmured. He shared blood with the despicable Ahmranan pirate from her past, whether he was a direct descendant or some distant offshoot, she couldn’t say. But it left her troubled. Why had Reyna and the others chosen to commune with these people?
The man’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know my name?”
She shook her head and pulled her hand away, her fingertips feeling seared. “I didn’t—you share his name?”
He pulled a dagger from his chest straps and angled it up toward her chin. “Who are you?”
The challenge brought back memories of her years with Captain Moss, along with a remembered response. The smirk that spread across her face was a welcome shift after so many lost years.
She knew exactly how to handle this sort of man.
“I believe your history books would refer to me as the Fearsome Pirate Redwood. I bested your ancestors, and I’ll gladly do it again.”
An amusing mix of fear and disbelief crossed his face, but all that mattered to Orra was his hesitation, which she took full advantage of.
As if mere moments had passed since her time aboard the pirate ship, she knocked the dagger from his hand, stole a second from his strap, and cut the remainder from his chest.
Blood spilled from his torn shirt, and she winced. “I apologize. I’ve grown rusty over the years. I never used to be so imprecise.”
He backed away, his face turning a dusky grey.
“Wait!” This time it was she who held the dagger beneath his chin. “Where’s Reyna?”
The people rushing past gave them a wider berth.
His gaze flicked to the tallest tower, then back again. “They took to the skies with the Sun’s descent.”
“There are no Stars out dancing tonight,” Orra said flatly.
He shrugged sheepishly. “Maybe they’re not in the mood to dance.”
The crowd nearly slowed to a stop, her stance with the dagger becoming more noticeable as others around them whispered and frowned. She’d have to trust that his slip-up was genuine.
She feigned a lunge to make him flinch, then took off in the crowd, dropping the dagger in the grass. He’d follow, but her lithe form slipped easily between warriors, whereas his bulk would not.
Before she left the outer courtyard, she stopped another woman. “Are the Stars on the tallest tower yet?”
The woman grinned maliciously. “Hopefully they’re well past that now. Seems like there’s some sort of hold up at the main door. If they can open up more doors, we won’t be so bottlenecked.”
Orra grimaced, wondering how these people had been chosen by the Sun and gifted by the Stars. It went against everything she understood of the Sun’s goodness and the Stars’ honor. Even when she’d had the joy of delivering starlocks, she’d shied away from gifting hers to the Ahmranans.
She glanced at the woman’s starlock, which lay nestled in her collarbone, held in place by a piercing not quite as ornate as Victor’s had been.
She placed a finger on the sphere-like charm, far more interested in what lay inside than its shape.
The woman stiffened, but before she could push Orra away, Orra let go.
“Telnar,” Orra murmured.
The woman’s eyes lit up. “Is he your Star as well?” she asked in awe.
Orra smiled softly. “I have no Star. Stars are not owned or assigned to people. He is not your Star either. Your starlock simply holds his essence.”
The woman’s gaze shifted to fear. “You’re one of them?” She bowed her head and made to kneel, but Orra stopped her.
“Do not worship those who sin the same as you. And that includes Telnar.” Orra stepped away, not bothering to see if the woman took her words to heart. If the Stars had been accepting these people’s worship, things were far worse than she’d realized. Still, she would wait to get answers from Reyna.
She fought her way against the flow of traffic to reach a side door hidden just outside the gate.
It blended well enough into the stone wall that she wasn’t sure the current royal family was even aware of its existence.
And when it took far too much of her energy to shift it out of place, that theory was confirmed.
Thankfully, the Ahmranans were all too focused on getting through the main gate to notice her slip in and shut the door behind her.
Dust filled the air as she made her way from the derelict passage to the main floor, where she was forced to use another ridiculous amount of her reserves to push through to the main hall.
Each path she took was eerily quiet, the soldiers having been called to defend the king and queen.
And yet they hadn’t been out in the courtyard fending off the gathering Ahmranans, who’d easily entered through the gates.
The deeper she went into the palace without any signs of fighting, the more she had to assume the Ahmranans had been welcomed, or at the very least expected.
Were they secretly allies of the royal family?
Or had the Recreants aided them in some way?
She sensed the presence of several half-lights in a room above her, one of them likely Emeris, if her internal map of the palace was still accurate.
She hesitated, wondering if she should aid them in any way, but the warmth in her gut urged her forward like the rays of the Sun pulling on a string at her navel.
Her friends knew how to take care of themselves, but she was the only one who could speak to the Stars, maybe make sense of their actions or challenge them to reconsider.
When she finally approached the highest turret, she nearly doubled over as she sensed their presence growing nearer. It had been so long since she’d communed with her brothers and sisters. The brief taste of Reyna’s presence on Summer Solstice had been a painful tease.
Tears spilled onto her cheeks. She wasn’t sure she could survive if she lost access to them again.
When she left the stairwell for the open night air, it was Andreas who saw her first, and this time an audible sob left Orra’s lips. She gripped the wall for support and reached out her other hand, longing to reassure herself he was real but also terrified he would reject her.
Instead, he ran to her and wrapped his arms around her, his welcoming touch so different from Reyna’s judgmental hatred on the north tower’s balcony all those moons ago.
Over his shoulder, she saw at least a dozen Stars with more arriving as they shot from the sky and shed their reflective fire for human forms.
“I wondered if you might come.” He moved to pull back, but Orra held him tighter, relishing the feel of arms around her, acceptance from her own kind.
“Forgive me,” she whispered.
“It’s not my forgiveness you should seek,” he said. “I gave that long ago.”
“I don’t think Reyna will forgive me.”
His laugh spread through her, the warmth as inviting as the Sun spilling over a mountain’s ridge. “Reyna forgives no one.”
This time when he pulled away, she didn’t resist but kept her eyes downcast, unable to see his pity or distrust. “When I reunite the starbridges, I will ask Bryton’s forgiveness.”
“I’m not talking about Bryton either.” He bent down and tilted her chin up, raising his eyebrows. His full meaning hit her.
“I don’t deserve the Sun’s forgive—”
“And yet,” he interrupted quietly, “the Sun offers it.”
She nodded, knowing he was right but still not ready to face all that she’d done.
She couldn’t earn that forgiveness by reuniting the starbridges, but it was difficult to imagine asking before having at least accomplished that task.
The advice she’d given to so many others over thousands of years was now too difficult for her to take herself.
“I thought you’d all given up on me. That you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Not all of us.” Beyond Andreas’ understanding smile, Reyna’s scowl came into focus.
“Joining us won’t allow you to return to the skies,” she said.
Orra stepped away from Andreas, not wanting to implicate him in the confrontation that was to come. Wind whipped her hair into her eyes while the other Stars’ long locks ruffled near their knees—another reminder of the sacrifices she’d made for all the wrong reasons.
“I’m not asking to join you. I’m asking you to stop.”
Reyna laughed, and a few of the other Stars around her echoed her titter. “Does it not fit with your plans?”