Chapter 49
Starlight
MAX
“Idon’t think he would have wanted to stay in there forever, though,” Elio says, his hand resting on Ezra’s glass casket. “But we can discuss it later, when we’re all rested.”
“I think you’re right,” Willow says softly.
Elio and Willow had placed his body in a glass casket, as is custom in the Sun Court, to preserve him until the funeral. As Ezra’s wife and brother, it’s only fitting that they decide what happens next.
Right?
“He was so good to me,” Willow whispers, clutching her injured arm to her chest.
After the jewels fell, the metal insets sank through her skin like acid, and the result isn’t very pretty. Or functional.
Elio’s brows knit together. “I thought you blamed him for what Ethan did to you.”
“Oh, no. After you left the Sun Court, Ethan became even more vicious. Ezra and I were each other’s only comfort. It was Ezra who came up with the idea to fake my death. With Devi’s help, we made it appear as though I’d drowned at sea, and after that, we never saw each other again.”
The corners of her lips quirk. “Your brother offered me a second chance at life, but it cost him dearly, as you can imagine. Ethan didn’t want any of us to escape him, even in death.”
They’re discussing Ezra as though everything is finished.
As though he’s gone forever.
It disgusts me how easily they slip into the past tense, how quickly they start turning him into a memory.
My heart is hollow. The space where it should be feels empty, carved away more than cleanly removed. I’m not only sad, I’m angry. Furious that the gods saw fit to place him in my path only to steal him at the first opportunity.
There are no tears left in my eyes, no more salt to sting my cheeks. I want to fight.
I want to rebel against their divine plans. I want to grab the world by the throat and demand an explanation. I want to scream until the stars themselves answer for what they've done.
Because Ezra deserved better than this. He didn’t survive a cruel curse and claw his way back to life for nothing. The gods made a mistake, and they should be held accountable.
Maybe it's denial.
Maybe it's madness.
But mourning him means accepting his death, and I’m not ready for that. Not while his soul is still out there. Not while the same cruel gods who took him expect me to bow my head and cry.
I grip Devi’s lower arm. “Nick was captured by the Reds. We need to save him.”
My godmother caresses my hair. “And we will, Freckles. We will. But not today.”
Despite their healing abilities, they’re all in terrible shape. Bloodied. Exhausted.
But I’m not.
My fists clench at my sides. “I need to do something.”
“You have to rest. You’re in shock.”
“Where’s Percy?”
Devi freezes.
Her Faeling isn’t one to stay away from a fight, and had she forced him to stay behind, he should have joined us by now.
The light in her eyes dims. “He’s gone.” She swallows. “He’s gone too, Freckles.”
Percy…
I wrap my arms around her, but the pain, the hurt, the shock leave me disconnected from my body, my heart, my soul.
It’s so strange to see Devi in tears.
She’s the strong one.
“Did the rebel camp survive the fight against the Red Queen?” I ask suddenly, my grief-stricken mind hopping from one thought to the next.
“Yes. It’s intact. Why?” Willow asks.
I pull away from Devi. “I need to go there. Now.”
Devi’s freckles cluster together as she frowns. “Why?”
“I need to get my cat.”
The rickety tavern room is exactly as we left it, complete with Lady waiting by the door, her tail swishing impatiently behind her.
She’s scratched through the leftover food in my bag, and her water bowl is empty.
The moment I step inside, she taps the floor with one paw. Meow.
I scoop her up from the ground. Her fur is soft and warm, and the scary knot inside my chest eases a little.
“Oh, Lady.” My voice cracks. “He’s gone. He’s truly gone.”
She bumps her head against my chin, purring.
I carry her to the bed and collapse onto it.
The only bed E and I shared, and for such a short time. The sheets still smell like us—like love barely awakened. I bury my face in the pillow.
Then, exhaustion finally claims me.
I should be surprised to end up on the cliffs again, but I’m not.
Ezra walks carefully to me, his hands behind his back. “Hello, little fox.”
“You’re here,” I croak.
I can see him now. I can see him so clearly.
I never, ever want to wake up. I never want to leave these cliffs where we shared so many nights together.
Where he died.
Every memory I have of this place is drenched in daylight. We've watched the sunrise from these cliffs. Kissed beneath the midday sun. Held each other while twilight poured over the clouds below.
And now, for the first time, we meet under the stars.
There is no moon tonight, and that only makes them brighter. They spill across the heavens in impossible numbers, crowding every stretch of dark velvet sky. The sea of clouds below reflects their glow, and for a dizzying moment, it feels as though we're standing between two skies.
“Shh. Don’t cry.” He kisses my forehead. “Isn’t it sweet for us here, in the Dreaming? To have someplace to meet across time?”
His fingers slide into my hair as the wind plays with the loose strands around my face.
“But you’re dead.”
He shrugs dismissively, but the small smile tugging at his lips holds only tenderness. It’s not casual in the least. “Semantics.”
My prince kisses me beneath a sky that outshines every jewel in Faerie, stripped bare of everything but starlight.
He tastes of clean linen, sun-kissed stone, and sweet blossoms. I kiss him harder, desperate to commit every part of him to memory.
How his mouth curves against mine.
How his arms feel around me, strong enough to make me believe that nothing can take him away.
The steady rhythm of his heart beneath my palm.
The roughness of his fingertips tangled in my hair.
The warmth of his breath against my skin.
His scent.
His light.
I want to remember every stolen moment we shared on these cliffs and in the waking world, even if I know there aren't enough of them to fill the empty space he'll leave behind.
Not enough to carry me through a lifetime without him.
“You’re about to wake up,” he finally breathes, straightening his spine, softly holding himself away.
I shudder and hold on to him, sinking my nails into his shoulders. “Will I see you again?”
“There are things that we can have, but can't keep,” he muses, sliding a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you done with me, little fox?”
“Do I have a choice?” I croak.
He tilts his head to the side. “I don’t know. Do you?”
His question leaves my heart in free fall.
Boom, boom, boom.
I wake with a start.
The room swims in and out of focus, and my chest aches.
Lady is meowing, tapping her paw against something, which is a refreshing change from her usual strategy of walking across my face. I rub the grit from my eyes, my heart feeling brittle as frozen glass, enormous and on the verge of shattering.
“What’s going on, girl?” I ask groggily, wishing I could have stayed in the Dreaming with my ghost.
In my mind, I’m still on the terrace beside the cliffs.
I’m back in that moment—with Ezra’s blood on my hands and his final words echoing in my ears. I can still feel the weight of his body in my arms, hear the strain in his dying voice, and remember the torturous way his hand slipped from my cheek.
Lady leaps onto my chest and lets out a questioning meow.
I blink slowly, and for a moment, I forget I’m not dreaming.
Ezra's lantern sits on the nightstand.
The stained-glass panes catch the light from the window in gleams of sapphire and gold. It isn't broken, but it’s not exactly as it was either.
A soft, ethereal blue light shines within it.
I’d rather haunt you, E used to say.
Tears streak down my cheeks as I rest a hand on the lantern. I never figured out why it mattered. It didn’t seem to tether him or affect him at all. Yet it’d been mysteriously fixed after my fight with the reavers, much like now, and I’d carried it all the way here…
The familiar heat of E’s magic warms my hand. Right there beneath my palm.
He’s still here.
His soul was severed from his body, but he’s here, still burning bright.
I’ve lost so much. Nick is in mortal danger, and so many others are already gone. My mother, Percy, Kerri…
Death has taken enough from me for me not to fight back, so I dry my eyes and force a breath into my lungs through clenched teeth.
Enough tears. I came to Faerie with a spindle and a ghost, intent on bringing him back to life. Now I’ve got his soul in a lantern, his body in a glass casket, and a gods-forsaken fire burning red inside me.
It’s time to roll up my sleeves and do whatever needs to be done.
Ezra was never meant to fade into the dark. Iris defied the laws of nature, and if she hadn’t possessed Lori, he’d still be alive. He paid the price for her flouting her reaper husband, and that’s not fair.
I won’t let Ezra be collateral damage.
If I’ve got the fire needed to change the will of the gods, alter destiny, and kill Death itself, why shouldn’t I use it to save Ezra instead?
He’ll be the light that beats the darkness. The exception to the rule.
The sky is filled with millions of souls flickering beyond the veil. Who cares if one of them arrives a little late?
Who cares if Ezra takes a little longer to make it up there than originally planned by a bunch of cruel, old gods?
Who cares if it’s selfish?
I don’t know when. I don’t know how.
But I’m going to change his destiny, alter his fate, and hold him in my arms again.
The starlight can wait.
To be continued.
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