The Reigning Star

by Catherine Wilson

  Every day, I pray for more awareness. That I’ll not just hear, but also see… feel.

  Wake.

  Whenever I’m allowed to think—when the vast skies of nothingness settle and I’m allowed to breathe at last—I can only remember two things.

  I’ve put myself in the stars.

  I think I’ve put my father here, too.

  But no, that doesn’t make sense. If my father is here, why haven’t I seen him? Why hasn’t he reached out to me? Does the void not pull at him, making him edgy and afraid? Make him wish he could claw at his skin, if only he could find his hands? It doesn’t any make sense.

  Until it does.

  I think I’ve put my father here.

  He didn’t want to come. I made him.

  It’s a new truth, a new thought, and I cling to it. Just as the voices lead me to the light, this thought will lead me to freedom. To life.

  I’ve put myself in the stars.

  I think I’ve put my father here, too.

  He didn’t want to come. I made him.

  Like a ladder, plunging down into the great abyss, the thoughts flow free, adding rungs for me to climb.

  My father wasn’t nice.

  He wanted to hurt the voices in the light.

  I saved them.

  I am brave.

  Slowly, but surely, I begin to pull myself from the dark.

  Forty-Two

  The voices come more frequently, as if they can sense my awareness—my desperate climb toward the light. With each step I take, the voices become clearer, easier to understand. I no longer have to wonder at who they are. I know their voices as if they were my own. With each bead of light that trickles down through the dark, a new thought forms alongside it, making me claw at the ladder, frantic to get up.

  I’ve put myself in the stars.

  I think I’ve put my father here, too.

  He didn’t want to come. I made him.

  My father wasn’t nice.

  He wanted to hurt the voices in the light.

  I saved them.

  I am brave.

  I have a mother, a papa, a sister, and a cousin.

  I have friends who are like family.

  There is a boy I love. He calls me Bravest.

  I need him like the very air I breathe, and he needs me.

  I must break free.

  My climb becomes frantic, the black suddenly closing in. It pulls on my shoulders, tight across my throat.

  Just like my father. He took my air. He took my magic.

  My feet slip against the rungs, and I bang my chin against the ladder. I start to fall. A cry leaves my lips.

  “Brave!” Her voice finds me in the dark, sure and unafraid. I latch onto it, finding the strength to wrap my hands around the ladder. My feet find the rungs. I hang on tight, allowing the security of her voice to wash over me, calming my soul.

  This is the voice of my sister.

  I must break free.

  “What are you doing in there? Aras takes his one break of the day, and, of course, that would be the time when you start to convulse in your bed. Skies above, Brave! You yelled out! I thought you were… I thought…” Her words trail off, hoping to hide the emotion in her voice. A tiny hiccup fills the air. “Look, I already know you gave away my right to the throne, and I’m fine with it. Thrilled even. You’ve given me a gift, and you don’t even realize it. And if you’re worried about anyone, know we are all fine. Even Knox’s men are on the mend now that their promises are broken. It turns out most people who give their souls away to a madman were never evil—they were simply without hope. They have you to thank for their life as much as they do me. Just come back, sister. I miss you.”

  Pressure blooms across my fingers, pressing down against my grip on the ladder. Securing my hold. It’s takes a moment for me to realize what’s happened.

  My hand. She’s holding my hand.

  I must break free.

  Looking up into the light, I take a careful step, and then another. The darkness falls away at my feet.

  This time, I will not fall.

  Forty-Three

  The climb is never-ending. The light is just always out of reach. Some days, I get discouraged. I want to give in, curl into the ladder, and mold myself into its hold. But when I look down, the dark is all consuming, a playground for my fears.

  And I know I cannot stop.

  I must break free.

  “Your cheeks are getting some color to them, Bravest. Whatever you’re doing in there, don’t stop. It’s working.” A warm touch of heat envelopes me, pinning me tighter to the ladder so I do not fall. I pick up the speed, willing my arms and legs to push me toward the light.

  It’s been a while since I last heard what I now know is Aras’ voice. Or at least, it’s been too long for me. He’s been here all along, the others say. Barely moving a muscle except for when he’s made to rest. Every time he’s here, he speaks to me, just as if I were awake. As if he knows I’m here, fighting for him underneath the raging seas. The story he shares is always the same, never told a different way. He tells me of a girl with tangled hair as dark as midnight. A girl who fell in love with a boy and fought for what was right. A girl who was given a destiny, but decided to forge her own. It’s a story I’ve come to love.

  I must fight harder if I want it to come true.

  I must break free.

  “I care for you, Bravest Penelope.” His words whisper against my ear, causing that same sweet warmth to spread across my face. Light touches slide from my brow, to my nose, to my lips. A soft surrender of his love, even when I cannot give it back. “I care for you so very much.”

  My fingers twitch against the rung, squeezing hard to keep my place.

  “Bravest?”

  Pressure covers my hand, and the light above me brightens even more.

  “Did you just move your fingers?” The pressure lifts, and I slip from the ladder, clawing at the rungs. “Emory! Get in here! Something’s happening!”

  Footsteps fall away, the warmth dying with the light.

  No! Please, don’t go!

  I flail against the ladder, panicked as my feet slip and I plunge several feet into the abyss. “Aras,” I scream, the name raw and scratchy against my throat.

  Steps pound the floors, this time several at once. I grab onto the ladder, pulling it tight to my chest. Above me, the light shines so bright it blinds. I raise my arm, careful to keep a firm hold as I shield my eyes.

  I must break free.

  “Brave? Are you there, my heart?” The voice is different, one I haven’t heard in ages, and not just since I disappeared under the waters, never to resurface again. Heat covers my hands, giving me strength as I reach for a rung. And then another.

  My mind whirls, trying to remember who Aras called before he left my side. I could almost swear he said Emory, but how can that be? The last time I saw him, he was a panther, cursed with a magic that couldn’t be undone.

  Unless… unless Knox’s death set him free.

  “Papa?” I whisper into the dark, the words loud and harsh to my ears.

  The light pulses from above, cracking like brilliant streaks of lightning in the middle of a storm. My breath quickens, and I double my pace. The blackness opens to a clear blue sky at the end. If I’m going to make it out of here alive, now is my only chance.

  I must break free.

  “Yes, my Brave. It’s me, Papa.” The light starts to spiral, spinning from gold to white as I near its end. His hand squeezes my fingers, and I squeeze back as hard as I can, begging him not to let go. “I’m here. I’m back to myself, all because of you.”

  I stifle a cry, the light so close I could reach out and touch it. The ladder ends, the edges of awareness resting at its very tip.

  Taking one last breath, I jump.

  Forty-Four

  When I open my eyes, the world looks different. Clearer, as if I’d never taken the time to truly appreciate it before, and I’m hungry to correct my p
ast mistakes.

  I’m lying on my bed in Theron’s palace, tucked away in the quiet of my chambers. The balcony doors stand open, allowing the warm summer breeze to flow through the room. Despite the heat, I find myself chilled.

  A man with short brown hair and startling blue eyes sits down on the bed beside me. Careful. Hesitant. Unsure of whether to speak or let me be. His lips tip up, a wobbly smile trying to peek its way through, even as unshed tears cloud his vision.

  “Papa? You’re back.”

  “Yes, my love,” he says as a few of the tears slip free, running down his cheek. “I’m back because of you.”

  I start to sit up, but my arms fail, and I wind up falling back against the pillows. Papa leans forward, gently pulling me into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much. You don’t know how happy I am to be able to hug you. There was a time when I believed I’d never have another chance.”

  I wrap my arms tighter around his back, letting him know I feel the same. That I often wondered if I’d be able to defeat Knox and end his curse… that I didn’t know if I’d survive after I did.

  “I’m sorry, Papa,” I say, hoping he understands how much I value his sacrifice, one he wouldn’t have had to make if it weren’t for my life.

  He looks down at me, eyes serious as he draws a deep breath. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Brave. You are my daughter—my heart—and I’d do it all over again if it meant protecting your life.”

  I start to speak, to tell him it’s not worth the risk, but he shakes his head, stopping the words before they’ve had the chance to begin. “But if you really want to apologize to someone, then it should at least be to that young man over there. He’s been waiting day and night for you to wake up, and you’ve given him quite the scare.”

  Together, we turn, watching Aras as he waits patiently a few steps away from the bed, allowing us space. But I don’t want space. Not from him.

  Papa eases himself off the bed, nodding once as he walks around Aras and slips out of the room. For a few minutes, we simply stare at each other, neither one of us sure where to begin. Although I know I’m far from a vision, Aras, on the other hand, looks the best I’ve ever seen him. His dark curls are trimmed so they barely touch the tips of his ears, and his perfect olive skin stands out from underneath his royal blue tunic. His eyes beam with happiness, a satisfaction that cannot be undone.

  While I was gone, he was healed.

  Careful not to lose my balance, I hold out my hand. “I’ve missed you.”

  He’s across the room with two swift strides.

  “Bravest!” Aras’ hands fly to my cheeks, sliding across my skin as if he’s afraid I’ll slip away again, lost to the black tides of oblivion once more. “You’re awake! You were gone for so long I was worried… I thought…”

  The rest of his words are lost as I pull him to my chest, burying my head into his neck. My fingers dig into his tunic, tugging him closer until he is all I can feel. His broad chest, his racing heart, his honeyed scent. I take it all in, drinking him in and never once daring to come up for air.

  When we finally break apart, I take his hand, placing it over my heart. “I’m here,” I say, leaning my forehead against his. “And this is where I’m going to stay. With you.”

  He leans forward, lips warm against my own. In an instant, I’m lost again, but this time, I am in no hurry to be found.

  ↄ

  The following days are a whirlwind of visitors and detailed accounts of what took place while I was gone. It turns out I was in a deep sleep for almost a week, with very little signs of consciousness until close to the end. Tolan, along with the palace’s healers, assured everyone I had surpassed my magic’s limit, and, as a result, my body went into protection mode. It wasn’t unlike my stint in the woods when I used too much power to build the cage of flames, but this time, the scope of my power had doubled. Not only had I drained my father’s magic, I had drained my mother’s as well.

  As it turns out, Knox was in the stars all along, but I was not.

  While I’d like to say I’m fully recovered, the truth is I’m far from it. It helps to have Vivi, Papa, Mother, and Ian stop by for visits, but my main source of strength comes from Aras. As my official protector or nursemaid, as he likes to call himself, he keeps me from going crazy while the world continues to spin on without me. He brings me food, makes me laugh, and when he thinks no one is looking, he climbs into my bed and hugs me tight. I don’t tell him, but there are some nights when the terrors from my time in the dark come roaring back into my mind. It’s then I wish he would never let me go.

  But every night, I go to sleep, and every morning, I wake up, just as it was before. The darkness doesn’t take me. I broke free of it. One day, I won’t even be afraid of it anymore.

  “How would you like to get out of your room for a bit? I know someone who would really like to see you.” Aras finishes binding my braid, a practice he started taking on himself since I awoke from my sleep. He grabs my hand, pulling me up from the chair. Though I never asked him to do it, he said he wanted to because it brought back good memories from our one time together at his house by the pond.

  Although we haven’t said, I know we both hope to make many new memories there together as soon as I get strong.

  “Please tell me you mean Sara,” I say, more than willing to leave my chambers and explore. The faster I’m able to heal and gain my strength, the faster I’ll be able to move on with our future. Not to mention Sara is still the one person from Ashen I haven’t yet been able to see. Her leg was badly hurt when she dove in front of Ian to save his life, and her recovery has been even more brutal than mine.

  He flashes his dimple, placing a light kiss on the tip of my nose. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

  I send him my most fearsome glare. “Watch it, Aras Renn. Even though Darcy has probably hidden my dagger again, I know it’s around here somewhere.”

  Aras throws his hand over his heart, stumbling back for good measure. “Ouch! You wound me, Bravest. It’s a good thing I like my women fierce.”

  “Yes,” I say, falling into his waiting arms and repaying him with a kiss. “It’s a good thing you do.”

  Forty-Five

  The walk to Sara’s chambers is surprisingly easy, considering I haven’t ventured past the four walls of my room since I’ve come back from the dark. I wish I could say the same for my dear friend, but according to Aras, Sara has been stuck in her chambers since the very moment Knox met his doom. Although Aras does his best to stay positive, I’m concerned there’s not much more anyone can do for her leg.

  Aras squeezes my arm, sensing my hesitation as we near her door. “Ian said this would be a good time to visit. I know she’ll be happy to see you. She’s asked about you every day since the accident.”

  The accident. That’s what everyone is calling it now.

  I can’t decide if this is out of respect for me or for Sara, but either way, it only serves to sugarcoat what really occurred on that awful day.

  There was a fight, and I made the decision to murder my father before he could murder me. Even though I did it to protect myself and the ones I love, it doesn’t make my actions settle any easier.

  A cruel and terrible man is dead because of me, but he was a man nonetheless.

  Aras must catch my expression, because he stops at the door, lifting my chin so he can see my eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, Bravest. I’ve seen it on your face since the second you opened your eyes. What you had to do to was horrific, terrifying even. But you had to do it, or else you wouldn’t be standing here today. I wouldn’t be standing here today. Even though it hurts, know that we are thankful. We live because of you.”

  I take his hand, cradling it between us. “I know, Aras, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “And it never should be easy. That’s how you know your heart is true.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, leaning in close to my side. “You are good, Braves
t. Don’t ever forget it.”

  “I won’t,” I say, vowing to let go of the guilt and live in the present. In a place full of peace and those I love most. “I promise.”

  He watches me, making sure I don’t back out of my words. Then he tugs on the handle, opening the door into Sara’s chambers. The room is ornate, even fancier than mine, and I might have been able to take in more of the finer details if it weren’t for the young couple locked in a passionate kiss beside the bed.

  Aras clears his throat, and the man jumps back to reveal the red-cheeked face of Ian. Behind him, a beautiful girl sits propped up against the pillows. Her blonde hair lays perfectly across her shoulders, her blue eyes sparkling with a mischief I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed.

  “Sara!” I bolt forward, almost tripping over myself to get to her side. I pull her into a hug, careful not to bother her bandaged leg where it rests on top of the sheets. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “You and me both.” She grins, motioning for me to sit in the chair beside the bed. “If it weren’t for the leg, I’d have come to see you long ago.”

  I pat her hand, understanding the feeling of being stranded more than she knows. “Don’t you dare try to explain. Ashen knows your leg needs to heal, and the best way to do that is to give it some rest.”

  Aras laughs, cutting a glance at Ian, who stands awkwardly by the bed—still embarrassed, no doubt, by the timing of our visit. “If that’s the case, then we need to get the prince out of here. Unless you have some healing properties in your… touch that we’re unaware of.”

  Ian, who was already a light shade of pink, turns scarlet. “Oh, come on, Aras. I’ve seen you in action, Mr. Nursemaid. If anything, I’ve learned from the best.”

  Aras shrugs, regretful acceptance edging his words. “This is true.”

  Sara and I roll our eyes, leaving it to the boys to fight it out. But there’s nothing that can make me miss the bright smile poised on Ian’s lips as he watches Sara, hanging on her every breath. The sight alone reminds me of why we did this—why we went through so much pain. All we ever wanted was to be happy and free from Knox’s reign.