The Starless Girl

by Liz Delton

  Then Kira walked straight into Rabenda. Kira recoiled, drawing away several paces. She drew in a sharp breath, and they both froze, staring at each other.

  Under Rabenda’s dark bangs, her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying. Kira was prepared to ignore that, as long as Rabenda would leave her alone.

  Rabenda’s eyes grew wide then narrowed to tiny slits. The glittering tears turned to icy malice.

  “What’s the little Shadow lurking about the stables for at this time of night?” Rabenda hissed.

  “What are you doing here?” Kira retorted. She had no time for games. Ever since Rabenda had been caught antagonizing Kira by Miss Mayu, Rabenda had all but left her alone these past weeks. In their page lessons, Rabenda had sunk to mere dirty looks and whispered threats. Whatever punishment Miss Mayu had laid upon Rabenda must have been severe.

  “None of your business,” said Rabenda. She failed at casually checking underneath her eyes for tears.

  “Exactly. And mine is none of yours.”

  Kira made to walk past Rabenda into the tack room. As she had been expecting, Rabenda made no move to step aside.

  “Move. Please.”

  She needed to get out of here before that squire at the gate got curious. It didn’t take long to pick four hooves. She still had to saddle up Meluca and put on her bridle. She didn’t have time for this!

  Curiosity flickered in Rabenda’s dark eyes.

  “Obviously you’re in a hurry,” Rabenda said, casually leaning against the frame of the tack room, filling up the entrance. “What for?”

  “I’m meeting Lord Zowan.” She didn’t care about lying to Rabenda. She could tell this girl a thousand lies and not care. “He’ll come looking for me if I’m not on time.”

  She didn’t budge. “Strange time for a quest.”

  “Get out of my way.” The dagger, warm from her body heat, came up under Rabenda’s chin, as if Kira wasn’t controlling her arm at all.

  Rabenda froze, but an annoyingly smug grin graced her face. “You think you can threaten me with that?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  Not a second passed while Kira’s body—after hours and hours of drilling with Zowan—slipped into a familiar rhythm. She had Rabenda from behind now, the dagger pressed tight against her throat.

  Strands of Rabenda’s short hair got in Kira’s face, but she ignored it. “Get out of here,” she growled in her ear. “This is your last warning.”

  “Think you’re special, don’t you, little Shadow? Advancing to page so fast and training under the Defector? Well, even if you make it to knight next week, you’ll still be a dirty—little—Shadow—” Her words were punctuated by her attempts to escape Kira’s hold.

  After training for weeks with a grown man more than a foot taller than her, Rabenda had no chance of breaking Kira’s grip. And she had endured far more boring conversations with Zowan locked in those training grips. Zowan would be proud, Kira thought.

  “Rabenda, please,” Kira groaned. “Aren’t you tired of this? Just get over it. I never did anything to you.”

  “Get over it?” The words came much louder than Kira expected. “Get over it?” Rabenda repeated hysterically. “You want me to get over the fact that your people murdered my parents? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Rabenda was shaking in her grip. Her voice sank in disgust. “Even though you have Light magic, you’re still one of them. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was your family. How do I know? Did you know my parents were last seen near Heliodor?”

  The last word seemed to rip itself from Rabenda’s throat. Kira’s mouth popped open in horror, and she was glad Rabenda couldn’t see her face.

  She could feel Rabenda panting with emotion, pressed against her. Kira drew a deep breath herself and said calmly, “I’m sorry, Rabenda. I didn’t mean it, really.” She didn’t bother denying Rabenda’s other claim. How could she possibly back up such a statement? No, I didn’t kill your parents. I’m actually from another realm entirely.

  How many times had she longed to throw that in Rabenda’s face? It wouldn’t help now.

  One of the horses kicked the side of their stall, startling Kira. How long had she been up here? How long until the squire followed? It must be past curfew now.

  Making up her mind, Kira shoved Rabenda from her, twisting so that Kira now held the doorway of the tack room. Rabenda stumbled into the aisle, and Kira could see that her tears had returned. Rabenda made no effort to hide them this time.

  “What are you really up to?” Rabenda demanded. “Sneaking out late at night to meet up with the Defector? Going to summon another dark-creature with your traitor knight?”

  Kira snorted. “Me? Me?” she cried. “What in the world would I do that for?”

  Rabenda seemed at a momentary loss of words, so Kira stormed into the tack room. She found the rack neatly labeled with Meluca’s name and hoisted the saddle off of it. Her momentum carried her past a stunned Rabenda, but the girl followed her like a vengeful crow.

  “Because he’s the Defector,” complained Rabenda, following Kira into Meluca’s stall. “He’s the Storm King’s nephew, for Light’s sake! You think family ties like that just break? I think Zowan’s a spy, letting in the dragon—or perhaps he didn’t need to, perhaps his own little page—”

  Kira heaved the saddle over Meluca’s back and spun around. Her hand froze reaching for her dagger, as she spotted a weapon now in Rabenda’s hands. Kira hadn’t been the only one honing her skills these past few weeks. A blade the size of Kira’s outstretched hand topped Rabenda’s staff, pointing right at her.

  Rabenda shook her bangs out of her eyes, glaring at Kira.

  Without thinking, Kira reached out and grabbed the staff. She surprised Rabenda and forced it horizontally between them. She only wished she could shove Rabenda out of the stall, but the staff was wider than the door.

  “This is none of your business,” Kira grunted, pushing.

  “I think it is.” Push.

  “I’m going to be late.”

  “Good.”

  “You really want Lord Zowan coming up here when he sees you’ve been keeping me?”

  “I’m not afraid of him.”

  Kira groaned, gripping the staff with all her strength. And then she remembered her last lesson with Zowan. Could she break Rabenda’s staff?

  It all depended on the strength of Rabenda’s will. Right now, she looked pretty willful.

  Kira’s curled fingers were white from the strain of holding it. Zowan hadn’t actually managed to teach Kira how to break something, only to feel if something were made of Light. This definitely was. The staff glowing with her rage, Rabenda hadn’t yet mastered the art of creating objects in their worldly likeness, like some of the older pages in their class had.

  Kira reached out, as if she were going to pull the Light from Rabenda’s staff.

  It gave a jerk, warding her off, just like the sword when she practiced with Zowan. She pressed on, trying to pull the Light from it.

  Another jerk, this one from Rabenda. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think?” Kira retorted, trying to make it sound menacing.

  Rabenda wasn’t convinced. “You don’t know how,” she scoffed.

  Kira ignored her and pulled.

  It wasn’t working. She was sweating now under her layers of clothes. If Rabenda could have just left her alone!

  Just then, the door to the stable slid open.

  They both froze. At Kira’s fearful look, Rabenda narrowed her eyes, correctly assuming that it wasn’t Zowan, that Zowan wasn’t coming.

  “Please,” Kira breathed. “It’s important.”

  Rabenda stared at her, wide eyed. Kira took advantage of the hint of confusion in Rabenda’s gaze and sank into a crouch, pulling Rabenda with her as they both still grasped the staff. They were hidden behind the lower half of the stall wall, out of sight.

  Footsteps soft on the earthen floor padded down the aisle. Kira plea
ded at Rabenda wordlessly. Stay quiet.

  They were crouched by Meluca’s feet, inches from the sawdust and what the sawdust was there to keep the floor clean from. Kira wrinkled her nose and waited.

  After an eternity, the stable door slid shut again. Rabenda pushed Kira off her, and Kira let go of the staff.

  They separated and stood. Rabenda leaned on the staff, still blocking the stall door.

  “Well?”

  Kira sighed. Opened her mouth. Closed it.

  What did it matter if she told Rabenda now? Ichiro and Nari didn’t have a second to spare her, and besides, they told her not to tell anyone she was from the Starless Realm so that the Storm King wouldn’t find out. Well, she was on her way to the Storm King. It wouldn’t be a secret for long.

  “Why not?” she muttered to herself as she tightened Meluca’s girth.

  Rabenda cocked her head.

  She had envisioned this moment so many times. How should she start?

  “I’m not really from Heliodor. I’m not from the Realm of Camellia at all.”

  “Really.” The word dripped in sarcasm.

  “Yes, really,” Kira urged, palms facing Rabenda in a plea for understanding. “I’m from the Starless Realm.”

  Rabenda snorted. “This just gets better and better. Now I know you’re a spy. Why else would you have such a ridiculous cover story?”

  “No, listen, Rabenda! There is no spy—at least not that I know of. I was chased into this realm by one of those dark-creatures. The dragon wasn’t the first one. And there will be more!”

  Rabenda narrowed her eyes at Kira. “If you’re from the Starless Realm, how come you have Light magic?”

  “Ah—well—it’s complicated. They think I’m originally from Camellia but went to the Starless Realm as a child.”

  “They?”

  “Ichiro and Nari.”

  “Figures,” Rabenda muttered. “No wonder they advanced you so quickly. I can’t believe I thought you might have been as skilled as Jun, the son of a Grey Knight.”

  Kira let the insult fall flat. She thought Rabenda was only doing it out of habit, anyway. She slipped Meluca’s bridle on and began to tighten the straps.

  “So you believe me?”

  Rabenda leaned against the door, almost but not quite leaving enough for Kira to lead Meluca out of the stall.

  “I don’t know.” She dropped her arm, and the Light staff disappeared, dispersing into the air around them. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “You don’t really act like someone from the Shadow region,” she admitted, staring at the ground.

  Air suddenly filled Kira’s lungs as her chest finally relaxed. “Look, I need to leave.”

  “Where are you really going?”

  Kira bit the inside of her lip. “I made an agreement with the spirit of the mountain, Gekkō—you know, the statue in the garden? Well, he apparently took a liking to me. And his flying squirrel tricked me into making an agreement to argue their case to the leaders of both temples.” She emphasized the last two words.

  Rabenda’s head snapped back up, the confusion in her eyes coming to a horrified clarity. “You’re not—you aren’t saying—?”

  Kira nodded. “I have to. Zowan said it’s impossible to get out of an agreement with a spirit.”

  “Well, yeah.” Rabenda loosened the cross of her arms a little, staring at Kira appraisingly. “You’re really from the Starless Realm?”

  “I grew up there, anyway.” Kira smiled. She reached over and grabbed the reins she had looped around Meluca’s neck and made for the door. But Rabenda didn’t move out of her way.

  “How do I know this isn’t just some ruse to go back to the Shadow region?”

  Kira took a steadying breath. “You really think I made all that up?”

  Rabenda didn’t answer.

  Kira dove her hand in her pocket and dug out the library card she still carried with her. She held it out to Rabenda, who didn’t take it.

  “This is from the Starless Realm. It’s the only proof I have. Look, it says my name on it and everything. Have you ever seen anything made out of plastic before?”

  “Plastic?” Rabenda muttered then finally reached out and took it between two fingers. She bent it a little and read both sides. Kira saw her mouth the words North Noxbury.

  “So?” Kira asked.

  For several frustrating minutes, Rabenda thought about it. Finally, she said, “Flying squirrel, huh?”

  “Named Thistle.”

  Rabenda snorted. She handed back the card and stepped aside. Kira led Meluca out before Rabenda could change her mind.

  When Kira reached the door leading out of the stables, she paused. “Why were you up here, anyway?”

  The lamplight cast a glow on Rabenda’s suddenly red cheeks. “I—well, I heard about Jun, and—”

  “Jun?” Kira repeated stupidly.

  “Kuma said he came in covered in blood, and his father just stormed off ready to go attack the Storm King. I thought—”

  “Jun’s fine,” Kira assured her. “I just saw him before I came here. He was eating soup.”

  “Really?” Rabenda had lost her usual scowl.

  “Really. Jovan just left? Are you sure?”

  “That’s why I was hiding in the tack room,” Rabenda muttered. “One of the other Grey Knights had arrived, and they were going to meet up with the others on the way to Heliodor. They were talking like Jun wasn’t going to make it.” The last sentence was an embarrassed whisper that surprised Kira.

  Kira secured her pack against Meluca’s saddle and swung herself up.

  “Then I’ll follow them.”

  She turned back to face Rabenda. “Thank you. You should go visit Jun in the morning. He’d be happy to have a visitor.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Luck

  Six paths led down the mountain from the stables, some of them steep and full of rocks and other obstacles, others winding gently down and well-traveled. Kira had ridden down two of the easier paths so far in her horse care lessons. She chose one that wound easily down the mountain, knowing herself not to be skilled enough for the others. She doubted this was the path that Sir Jovan had taken, since it wasn’t the fastest way down, but she still hoped she might spot them down at the gate or at least catch up with them along the road.

  The woods were quiet. Kira could only hear the sound of Meluca’s hooves on the dirt path as they trotted down it. She was glad the path she had chosen didn’t come anywhere near the temple’s walls where anyone might hear them. Once or twice she spotted an owl gazing down at her, outlined and glowing with Light magic, perched high above. Nothing else moved. She could see each tree, each leaf, each stone in the path, infused with Light.

  Kira checked her dagger, securely tucked in her sash. She patted her pocket, where she had stashed her folded hand-drawn map. With any luck, she wouldn’t need the map at all.

  She would follow Jovan and the Camellia Six. But somehow, she needed to reach the Storm King before they did. That would be tricky. She must deliver her message, fulfill her agreement with Gekkō. Well, she would just figure that out when she got there.

  The moon was nearly full. One more day. Where would the next dark-creature strike?

  Thousands of stars shone down on Kira through the trees. A light wind picked up, pelting her and Meluca with soft, somewhat crunchy leaves, freshly fallen.

  Something slightly harder struck her in the back.

  She squealed in surprise, her pulse racing. She would have screeched in terror had she not been trying to be stealthy.

  She flailed her arms around her back. Something clung to her. It moved slowly up to her shoulder. In her mind, she immediately pictured an enormous spider. The squeal came again.

  “What is that sound?” a voice like the autumn breeze questioned.

  Kira’s breath exploded from her lungs. “Thistle! You scared me to death!”

  The fluffy ball of white fur crested her shoulder, his ti
ny paws clinging to her jacket. He stared at her with his enormous, dark eyes. “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m glad to see you.”

  Thistle chirped.

  The wind died down, and Kira heard another noise. Horses. Men, calling to one another. The hinges of an enormous door.

  The gate! How could she have forgotten? It was always open whenever she and Zowan had left the temple grounds.

  “Oh no,” she muttered. “How am I going to get through the gate?”

  She couldn’t see the gate yet, which meant the guards couldn’t see her. Once she came into view, though, anyone with Light magic would spot her instantly. She doubted she could come up with a lie that would convince them to let her walk through.

  The chirp came from her shoulder again. “I knew you needed me,” sang Thistle.

  “You can help?”

  “Of course. Just give me a moment.”

  Kira felt the tiny feet adjust their grip, tighter, pinching her skin a little. She kept quiet and slowed Meluca to a walk. A moment to do what? He hadn’t said to stop. Kira’s heart thudded with anxiety.

  Seconds ticked by. Soon they would be spotted.

  “Thistle?”

  “Yes, hold on.”

  “Should I stop the horse?”

  “Nope,” he said proudly. “They won’t see us now.”

  His words were put to the test immediately as Kira rounded a bend and the gate came into view. One massive door was open, and she could just see the glow of two horses and their riders beyond the wall. Most of the guards were focused on the departing men, but two faced inward, staring in Kira’s direction.

  Her heart fluttered, as if it wanted to be noticed. Kira had heard of no magic in Camellia that could render a person completely invisible, but Thistle was Gekkō’s messenger. Spirit magic must be different.

  The guards called a last goodbye to the two riders and began the lengthy business of closing the door.

  “Can they hear us?”

  The door was moving now.

  “No, go!” he cried.

  On instinct, Kira’s heels tapped Meluca’s sides, urgent and sure. The horse jolted forward into a canter.

  Time slowed. Being invisible and soundless will do that to you, Kira reflected. She caught sight of the guards working to close the heavy door, and then she was past them. They cantered a good distance until Meluca slowed. The other two riders were shining specks in the distance, moving fast.