Chapter 42
“Quazar?”
I reached up starry fingers to his bloodstained cheeks. He blinked blood out of his eyes, looking down at me. Even in this condition, the defiant Prince managed to smirk.
“She does care about me.”
“Of course I—” I took in his wounds. “Who did this to you?”
A primal desire to protect him came over me. I was ready to throttle whoever had put their hands on him.
“Bleeding the Fallen Prince is the Orders favorite sport. Didn’t you know?”
“Was it…”
I didn’t want to say out loud. But I also had to know. He knew who I meant without me finishing.
“No my Starling. It wasn’t your Granmanmi.”
I released a tight breath. This grievance wasn’t our fault. Not this time. It felt like an invisible weight had slipped from my shoulders.
Since his blindfold was soaked in blood, I lifted the bottom of my gown to my knees and began wiping away the blood from his face.
My nails brushed the heat of his skin, tapping over the endless inscriptions on his neck.
I trailed them down in the neckline of his loose tunic.
Even bloodied, he was the most handsome male I’d ever seen.
My hearts raced as I brushed his hair back from his eyes.
“You’re a vision,” he breathed. “All I have been greedy to want and everything I know I’m too cursed to have.”
My hearts pounded in my chest.
What was he saying?
What was I supposed to do with that?
“Disciple!” the Farasee snapped. “Whatever it is you are doing, stop at once and rid me of these cursed shackles.”
I flinched at his shouting. Quazar snarled, the sound escaping his lips, feral and raw.
“She’s not your slave, swine. Stop whining like a little—”
I brushed my thumb over Quazar’s bottom lip. He instantly forgot what he was saying. His eyes snapped to mine. They darkened, and I knew, in this moment, I could get him to do whatever I wanted.
I was lost in his eyes, entirely mesmerized. The trial slipped from my mind as I found myself leaning into him. Lifting a leg over his thigh. Reaching my hands to the nape of his neck, tugging on his hair.
“You’re so rotting lucky I’m in these chains,” he said, his voice husky, all breath. “If I could get my hands on you—”
A heavy slam against the glass of the dome caught my attention.
“Oh my stars,” I gasped. “What are those?”
“Starling, promise me you won’t freak out.”
“I won’t freak out.” I slid my gaze to him. “Why would I freak out?”
Quazar’s eyes remained on the seven monsters outside of the glass chamber.
“Because.” A beat. “Those are Stareaters.”
“They’re what?”
“You said you wouldn’t freak out.”
Quazar was calm. Too calm if you asked me.
Stareaters were nightmares. Figments of the imagination. Fiction. Myth.
Papi told us stories about Stareaters to scare us at twinight. To get us to shape up when we were misbehaving. They weren’t supposed to be true. They weren’t supposed to be real. Dread sank in my stomach like stones. This trial was far from over.
“Help them first,” Quazar commanded, seeing my expression. I nodded and dove for the youngling Chronophim.
“Please,” she shrieked. “Get me out of here, Disciple. Please.”
“I will little one, don’t you worry,” I promised her.
“You will attend to me first,” the Farasee raged. “I am a Farasee of the Order. We are taken care of first!”
I ignored him. Honestly, I wanted to shoot him in the face with a starbolt just so he could shut up.
The Stareaters banged on the glass, slamming it with their unholy powers as I wrestled with the Chronophim’s blindfold, then her shackles.
The blindfold came off relatively easy. The shackles on the other hand were putting up a strong fight.
“Burning…” I grumbled, murmuring beneath my breath as I struggled with her manacles.
“Starling…”
“I’m working on it!”
I turned my hand into a starry hammer. I banged against her shackles until the lock finally popped. The Chronophim quickly shook it off, her bright galactic eyes swimming with stars. When she looked at my eyes she gasped.
“You’re Safah Anathelle. Thank you, Disciple Safah. Thank you,” she cried.
She squeezed my hands and turned. I looked up and found an open door on the back wall of the glass chamber, wide open.
“Go.” I shoved her forward. “Get through the door and fly free little one. Go.”
“I’m not trying to rush you or anything,” Quazar drawled.
I turned to find his eyes on one of the Stareaters. When I turned, I saw the creature had managed to chip the glass, creating fissures that now spread along the rest of the glass.
Rot.
I raced for the Farasee, using the same hammer maneuver.
I refused to remove the blindfold from his eyes first. I wouldn’t look the parasite in the eyes while he was being vile.
It took some work, but I popped his lock.
Without a word, I flew behind him, jerked on the blindfold, and loosed him.
The Farasee instantly floated up with an air of superiority as he glared at me.
“I told you numerous times to free me first, Disciple,” he seethed. “You females are as stupid as you are useless. The Order will hear about this. Mark my words. You’ll learn what happens to those who put anyone above the Order.”
I flinched. He couldn’t make me forfeit my Ascension. Could he? I’d worked so hard, survived too much, for some greedy, careless Farasee to ruin all of my efforts.
“Such a shame,” he said, his eyes dragging down my body lewdly. “You are a pretty one. Even prettier than Amaryss. And she was a vision to behold. You’re not smart like her though. You don’t have her cunning. Her sharp mind. You do not obey. But maybe you can be taught, yet.”
The Farasee whipped around without another word and flew out of the open door. I turned to Quazar, unable to process everything the Farasee had just said.
“And then there were two.”
Quazar’s eyes were dancing. How could he make light of something as terrifying as this? I set my efforts on Quazar. I reached for his shackles and hissed jumping back. His shackles had a thin, black flame around them. When I looked closely, I saw his skin had been burned raw.
“Quazar,” I screeched. I looked up at him. He was still smirking. But his eyes told the truth. He was in great pain.
The Stareaters began cracking through the glass. Through the narrow gap, they shot bolts of black fire our way. I dodged the first three, yanking Quazar out of the way. The fourth slammed right into my wings. And burned. I cried out.
“Safah!” Quazar yelled.
Tears instantly welled in my eyes. This was the same pain I felt when the Spirit Harvesters had come after me and were tearing me apart. If the Stareaters were the same in ferocity as the Spirit Harvesters, I wouldn’t be able to fend them off. Especially not seven of them.
“I’m okay,” I grit through my teeth.
I forced myself to focus on Quazar’s shackles before I started circling him, desperately trying to think of a way around these manacles.
A table had surfaced beside him. And on top of it was a dagger with a crimson blade and a gilded hilt. Inscribed on the side was the proverb of Temple Efysis:
Ascend, or enlarge the Hèls.
I went to pick it up—
“Starling, don’t!” Quazar snapped, his eyes full of panic. “It’s poisonous. Crimson blades, like obsidian blades, are laced with dark majik. If your skin comes into contact with it you’re dead.”
“But why is it here?”
I looked up. That’s when I noticed the door that was open earlier was also gone.
“Wait…They want me to…to end your life?”
Quazar smiled at me, but there was no joy in it.
“You didn’t expect anything different, did you?”
“This is wrong,” I seethed.
“You think your little bloodthirsty temple cares?” Quazar chuckled. “Besides, I’m a Fallenspawn, remember? I’m their beloved Prince. And you are the sweetheart of the temple. Of course they’d use you to get rid of me.”
“Sweetheart of the temple is rich considering they let one of the Order nearly wrench me out of this life,” I scoffed.
Think. I needed to think.
An idea clicked in my mind.
“Stay behind my wings,” I ordered.
I floated in front of him, turning to face the Stareaters who’d broken enough of the glass to shove an arm through.
I channeled the depths of my power. I threw an arm in the air and flooded the chamber with starfire, mixed with lavender and iridescent starlight.
The power flowed out of my hand like a vortex as my wings flapped.
My body thrummed with the energy, creating a strong shield.
As the shield sealed around us, the Stareaters cracked through the glass of the chamber. Burning like a lavender star with an iridescent glow, I turned to face Quazar. He looked up into my eyes, as if staring at a Celestial.
“Beautiful.” He blinked at me in awe. “So rotting beautiful.”
I smiled sweetly. Picking up the blindfold that had been around the Chronophim’s eyes, I gingerly picked up the poisoned dagger.
I looked at Quazar’s shackles and decided to trust my gut.
He said nothing as he watched me bend down, putting the dagger to his shackles.
For a moment, it was just the shield of light, Quazar, and me.
I fyused back, letting my Seraphim skin return. I pressed close to Quazar, my leg perched over his thigh. He scooted forward. The world fell quiet as we drew close. I tipped my head down. He angled his own, mouth open, drawing me in like a serpent to sin.
I slipped my bent leg further, angling myself over his lap, straddling him. A growl filled the back of his throat. He was completely disarmed, his eyes burning with liquid desire.
I brought the dagger to his shackles and listened as the poison burned through the manacles. We remained like that, the two of us locked in a quiet battle. All I had to do was tip my head and I’d close the gap between our lips.
The lock on his shackles popped.
In one swoop, I tossed the dagger as Quazar swung his arms forward and reached up to grip my waist. Like a reflex, I fyused again, becoming entirely my starry self. Quazar leaned forward, ready to press our lips together.
A Stareater shoved his sword through my shield. It felt like he’d pierced straight into my spine. I arched, contorting in pain in Quazar’s arms, screaming loud.
“Safah!” Quazar roared.
He laid me down gently on the marble, then he was out of my vision.
All I could hear was his grunting as I wrestled with a fresh wave of pain burning down my spine.
I began choking on acid as tears welled in my eyes.
My bones suddenly felt brittle. The sword.
It had to be poisoned if it could affect my power like that.
Quazar was already wounded to the point of needing a Raephim. Pain or not, if he was going to fight back, then so was I. Wasn’t that the point of all this? For Disciples and Legionnaires to work together? For them to fight together?
With tears wetting my cheeks, I rolled over and pushed up to the balls of my feet. I looked out and saw Quazar had already impaled two Stareaters and was working on two more. Good heavens. He was a machine of war.
I watched him move. He was undoubtedly a highly skilled warrior.
There was an elegance to his movement. He was ferocious, deadly, and graceful.
There was a beauty, an art, to how he killed.
How he unarmed his foe and defeated them.
He used his shadows like whips, slinging them around, lassoing the Stareaters, before turning the shadows to swords, and impaling them on it.
It was in this moment I realized, every time Quazar and I had gotten into a fight, he’d gone extremely easy on me. I was almost embarrassed at the thought. I was so lost in watching him, I almost missed the Stareater sneaking up behind him.
“Quazar!” I yelled, racing forward.
The Stareater lifted his sword and swung.
But I was faster.
With a blast of starfire, I shoved Quazar out of the way, while simultaneously stabbing the Stareater directly in the chest with my sword. He instantly began to burn, his bone white skin charring away while his horrid, starry face turned to ash.
Reaching Quazar, we launched into the fray against the remaining Stareaters.
I lashed out with my starfire, while Quazar used his shadows.
I kicked out at a Stareater, snapping the bone in his leg while bending to shove the talon of my wing straight into his chest. I jerked upward and wrenched my talon through his flesh.
Quazar clapped all of his wings together with such force my body vibrated with it. The Stareater I fought against fell face down, falling lifeless. When I turned, Quazar had ended the lives of the other two. All the Stareaters were dead.
I floated before him, a silhouette of lavender galactic fire.
Like a burning star. He lifted his head to me, already creating a perimeter of shadow around us, over my starlight.
Then he reached up, gripped my waist, and pulled me to himself.
We were wounded and hurting, but in this moment, in his embrace, I felt alive.
“Come here,” he whispered.
I pressed in, placing my hands on his chest. He leaned down, ready to claim my mouth. Then a star gate appeared, dragged us through, and spat us back into the great room of the wingtower.