The Silver Star (Kat Drummond Book 11)

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  Allandrea nodded. “But they weren’t always forged in hatred. War is necessary. There is evil in this world. Do not forget that. And we must fight it. But, sometimes, we turn our blades on the wrong enemies. Lianthorn and the War Court have been hurt too much on this world. And they see nothing but the red of their banners. He is not a bad man. But he has forgotten what it is like to love. He sees nothing but darkness within humanity. Perhaps, how many humans view us.”

  I couldn’t help but think about how Trudie must see Candace. The necromancer who had abducted me. Who had killed so many people. Perhaps…we had been unfair on my friend.

  Hate was understandable. So was vengeance. I had felt it so many times before.

  But sometimes it was best to forgive.

  “That’s it for training today,” Allandrea said, but waited for me to move away before she lifted her hand from where she had been stroking my hair.

  “But I didn’t learn anything.”

  She raised her eyebrow quizzically, feigning offence. “Did you not?”

  I paused, as realisation hit me. I smiled. “Thank you.”

  She inclined her head and stood as I did.

  “Your time here draws near its end. I know you are anxious to get back home. I have a few more lessons to teach you, and then I shall see you depart back to your home.”

  “It has been an honour meeting you, my queen.”

  She laughed. “You’re not leaving yet. And I’m not your queen.”

  “Then, thank you, Allandrea…”

  She smiled, satisfied, and departed. That left my day wide-open. Usually, I would detest being idle. It gave me time to brood. But, after my time with Allandrea…I felt I could face the silence.

  I left the confines of the Star Palace’s halls and strode into one of its many gardens. This one bore more alien foliage than the others. Giant red mushrooms provided ample shade, while glowing blue vines snaked their way around the stems. At their feet, more Earth-appropriate flowers bloomed, despite the lack of direct sunlight. As I thought, anything could grow here.

  I bent down to examine the flowers, just as I spotted a hint of gold from the corner of my eyes. Glowing eyes.

  “You can pick them,” Trudie said, idly, as she reclined underneath a mushroom stem. “They grow back almost instantly.”

  Her eyes did not look predatory, but that glow meant something was going through my friend’s head. Something was worrying her.

  I picked one of the red flowers to test Trudie’s claim. It took a few moments, but another flower bloomed in its place. A blue flower this time.

  I made my way to Trudie’s resting place and handed her the flower, she idly accepted it and let it lie limply on her chest. Yeah, something was up.

  “You sure know how to woo a girl,” Trudie remarked, but it lacked zest. She sighed.

  “What’s up, Troodz? Bored of the forest?”

  “No, no. Well, maybe. It’s just…not as fun without someone to go with.”

  “Sen?”

  “With his new girlfriend.” She said the last word with a hint of scorn.

  “I think they’re sweet. But if you’re scared that she’ll take your wittle werewolf from you, don’t be. We’re going home soon. And she’ll remain.”

  Trudie dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand.

  “No, no. She’s fine. It’s important that he gets some independence. Pranish keeps telling me that. And, like always, he’s right.”

  “Well, right most of the time. He was wrong to take so long to profess his feelings to you.”

  “I don’t know…” Trudie trailed off, her voice a bit dreamy. “I was a different person back then. I don’t think that things would have worked out. It could have ended the friendship.”

  “We were, and still are, thick as thieving goblins, Troodz. And if Pranish had professed sooner you…”

  I stopped. Bringing up the bastard who’d turned her wasn’t the best thing to do.

  Trudie sighed. “Perhaps, you’re right. I wonder what life would be like if I wasn’t…you know…”

  She flexed her hand, allowing it to morph into a black fur wreathed claw for a second, before morphing back.

  “You seem to enjoy being a werewolf.” I offered. “And you aren’t a totally different person. You’ve always been fun loving, caring, stubborn, hard-headed, ignorant of danger…”

  “Gee, thanks for the compliments.”

  I grinned but then went serious as I put my hand on hers.

  “You’re my friend, Troodz. Back then, and now. You’re the same person. Just furrier sometimes.”

  She stared into my eyes. The gold was gone and behind her gaze I saw an immense…sadness. A sort of cold numbness. I recognised it. I’d seen it in Brett. And me.

  “I did things when I first transformed, Kat. Things I couldn’t help doing, but I did all the same. And I remember the people I killed. I went rogue. And nobody was there to put me down.”

  “I thought rogues were trapped like that forever…”

  She shook her head. “Sometimes, we break out of it. But most of the time, we’re doomed to be consumed by the beast inside ourselves. That’s why we…I had to put down those rogues. Because even if they came to their senses…like me…they’d remember what they did. And they’d live with the regret.”

  She looked away, contemplating the red flower I’d given her.

  “Is this why you’ve been drinking? Testing your limits?” I asked.

  She nodded, slowly.

  “It helps. For just a bit. Drinking, adrenaline. I’ve tried drugs as well. But the numbness doesn’t last long until I remember what I’ve done.” She shook her head. “I regret coming back. Dragging you all into this.”

  “We love you! You know that!”

  “And that’s the problem! I don’t deserve to be loved after what I’ve done!” she yelled, suddenly, gold afire in her eyes.

  She looked on the verge of yelling again, before slumping back down. The gold cooled as she pulled a petal from the flower.

  “I don’t know how you can forgive us. After what she’s done. After what I’ve done. I hate her, Kat. Because I hate myself.”

  The unnaturally light shade of the mushroom canopies leant increased sombreness to the silence that followed. I felt Treth watching, his sadness and pain mixing with my own.

  I placed my hand on Trudie’s head and pulled her into my shoulder. She resisted, for a second, but then let me pull her in. It was possibly a very dangerous and very stupid thing to do to a werewolf but, by the Rifts, she’s my friend!

  “We all deserve redemption, Trudie. Candace and you. We can’t change the past. But we can determine the future.”

  “So deep…” she replied, sarcastically.

  “But true. You have both changed. And I love both of you. Because you both deserve to be loved. You aren’t the same people who did those things. Because if you were, you’d still be doing them.”

  Trudie snorted, unconvinced.

  “I won’t attack her,” she said. “Is that what you want?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s a start. But not what I want.”

  Trudie sighed and stood up, slowly.

  “I don’t deserve your love or pity.” Her lip quivered, almost breaking into a smile. “But I appreciate it all the same, Kats.”

  She left, leaving Treth and me to enjoy the flowers and mushroom shade.

  ***

  My moments with Allandrea and Trudie should have been emotionally taxing but, in a way, they were cathartic. I had been keeping my feelings bottled up for so long. Letting them out uncorked the bottle, releasing pressure. Coupled with finding out a bit more about what Trudie was going through, I could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel.

  Things were tough. They always were and always would be. But, nothing worth doing is ever easy.

  With my newfound semblance of solace, I wandered the halls of the Star Palace, venturing out further than I had before. It really was its own to
wn. Hundreds, if not thousands, of elves and humans resided within these magical halls. And every room told a story of millennia of history. Perhaps, I should ask my aunt about it.

  There was still sadness there. But…I think I was getting used to her again. She wasn’t what I needed. But she was all I had left. That meant something.

  As I travelled through the palace’s halls, appreciating fine art of various artistic movements that echoed and contradicted many equivalent Earth art movements, I also observed the people of the palace. Many elves looked at me askance. They didn’t stop me, of course. Allandrea had been thorough in ensuring that our free movement around the palace was uninhibited. I hadn’t understood her extreme trust in us. But I did now.

  Allandrea could see into all of us. Into me, Treth, Trudie, Pranish…all of us. And Candace. And despite all we had done, she saw goodness. She trusted us.

  Perhaps, that’s what counted most. There was goodness in each of us. She saw it. And we should see it too.

  She insisted that I not call her queen. But, if I was to swear fealty to any person, it would be to her. Probably because she would be the last person to accept.

  I explored many halls and chambers before the sun set and the natural light of the outside was replaced by magical lights reminiscent of starlight. The palace definitely followed a theme.

  Mandy had told me that the Sintari believed that they had been created from stars. That every star was an elf. At least symbolically. They were the star people.

  Much like how many humans had abandoned religion, many elves had done the same. But some still clung to the symbolism. The Star Court was one of them.

  While every court was a complex subject, with epochs of history needed to truly understand it, I had gathered, in my short time here, that Allandrea and the Star Court believed in the celestial whim. Divine guidance. Magic. The energy of the world and between worlds.

  They were the mages. The seers. The philosophers. The priests.

  It was no wonder they didn’t see eye to eye with the War Court, who believed in steel, fire and raw, unbridled passion.

  I saw credence in both. But I must admit to being biased in favour of the Star Court. Allandrea was a convincing representative. Probably because she never tried to convert me. Courts did not proselytise. They just existed.

  My trip around the palace ended almost accidentally, as I soon realised that I had circled my way around the entire building and reached the wing housing my apartment. Dinner would be soon.

  I entered my apartment to be greeted by the familiar smell of tobacco.

  “Hey,” I greeted, eloquently, as I went out onto the balcony. Brett was sitting down, a full ashtray by his side. I made a mental note to have Cindy check his lungs when we got back.

  “Hey,” he replied, equally as eloquent.

  “What you been up to today?” I asked, taking a space by the balcony railing and looking out onto the dryad wood.

  He hesitated, taking a puff to process his answer. He exhaled slowly.

  “Not much. You?”

  Casual answer. But loaded.

  “Allandrea and I had a talk. It was good. And then I talked to Trudie. Less good, but I think I’m starting to understand her again.”

  “That’s good. I’ve been worried about her.”

  I felt a pang. Brett and the original Crusaders had always been my hunting friends. The fact that he was worried about my childhood friends really meant a lot to me. I should stop thinking about them as different. They were all Crusaders now.

  “I explored the palace afterwards,” I continued. “Was fun. You should come with me next time. Tomorrow?”

  I saw hesitation again.

  “I…I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

  “Why? The elves are helpful. Only some of the War Courtiers look at me suspiciously and they don’t do anything. And if you’re worried about getting lost, there’s actually a trick to…”

  “It’s not that,” he interrupted me. He’d let his cigarette burn too fast. A pillar of ash fell to the balcony floor.

  I frowned. “What is it? Have you…I can’t actually recall if you’ve been out of the wing.”

  “I have. To the clinic and to the feast hall.”

  “That’s it?”

  He sighed. “It’s fine. We were on a ship for gods knows how long. I’m used to being confined.”

  “But you don’t have to be. This place is a marvel. We should go explore it. Together.”

  I saw him considering my offer. I moved closer, placing my hand on his hair.

  “It feels wrong,” he finally said. “They smile at me and let me eat their food and sleep in their beds. They’re so nice. And they don’t know what I did.”

  “What the Corps did.”

  “I was in the Corps. I had a choice. And I chose to pull the trigger. Again, and again. Vampires, werewolves, orcs, elves, fae…all the same. That’s what we were taught. That we had to reclaim our world from them. And we…I killed. Killed so many. I’m not sure how many of them deserved to die. Or if that even matters. But…I don’t know if I can face them knowing what I did. What I am. It’s better if I just wait till we get back to Hope City.”

  It always came back to the Corps. Like how it always come back to necromancers for me. I hated the Corps for what it had done to Brett. But I couldn’t hate it completely. Because Brett was Corps, and hating it meant hating him.

  I let my hand fall to his cheek, where I held it there until he grabbed my hand and pressed it closer towards his skin. He closed his eyes. He accepted what he had done. He accepted the price he had to pay. He was not at peace, but there wasn’t turmoil there. He was a willing convict. A man who didn’t think he deserved redemption. So, he lived a life which punished him for what he had done.

  But I knew better.

  Because people do change. And Brett was not the evil Corpsman he thought he was. And perhaps, he never was.

  “We can’t change the past, Brett. But we can decide what we’re going to do next. There’s no use hiding. And I know you know that. You don’t hide. Not because you’re Corps. Not because you’re a Crusader. Because you’re Brett Callahan. And you aren’t going to keep running away from your past.”

  He opened his eyes, slowly, and looked up at me.

  “Some chat you must have had with Allandrea,” he said, but there was no hint of mockery.

  I smiled, faintly.

  “I’d still rather be in Hope City, but I think we needed to come here. Not for my aunt. But because there’re things holding us down. And, perhaps, we need to let go.”

  Brett, his cigarette now completely burnt out, pondered my words, as the palace slowly started to glow in the evening light, the sun now fully hidden by the horizon.

  Finally, he nodded, and stood.

  “Let’s go get dinner, Katty.”

  I let him put his arm around my shoulder and smiled as we made our way to the feast hall.

  Chapter 26.

  Hate

  “You have managed to master channelling the Vessel’s energy to power your spells,” Allandrea explained, as I sat cross-legged on the stone floor, surrounded by the ritual circle. I was panting. Incantation wasn’t as physically straining as monster hunting, but I was out of shape, and it took its own toll.

  “But it still feels like I have so much to learn,” I replied, in between pants.

  Allandrea nodded, seemingly satisfied. “We are always learning. And there is more to learn. I cannot admit to knowing every facet of your power. But I have figured out some aspects of it. Treth, you said that you managed to bring Ithalen to her. But that your corporeality isn’t reliable.”

  Treth manifested next to the queen, his head inclined in respect.

  “It was odd, Your Majesty.” He ignored her insistence to not call her that. “I knew Kat needed the sword but even if I was to grab it physically, I wouldn’t have been able to carry it from the hold to the deck. Usually, I can’t pass through solid objects. But
I can manifest to places I know well.”

  “You seemed to manifest onto the deck with the sword,” I offered.

  Treth nodded. “I knew you needed it. And then, before I knew it, I was holding it.”

  We both looked to Allandrea for explanation. She looked a bit taken aback at our reliance on her knowledge.

  “Can I see your sword?” she asked.

  I stood and slowly unsheathed my blade. I carried it with me most of the time. Even here. The elves actually stared less at it than humans in Hope City did. War Courtiers were always armed.

  Gently, I offered the sword to Allandrea. I noticed a flicker in her eyes. She knew how much this sword meant to me. And how much this gesture of letting her touch it really meant. The first time I had handed it to her, it may have been out of desperation. But this…this was trust.

  Allandrea accepted the blade and held it aloft, stroking her hand along the flat of the blade. I thought I’d feel nervous with anyone other than me or Treth holding my sword, but I didn’t.

  Allandrea muttered a word in Sintari, and the sword began to glow. First, faintly, but then a splendid blue. Treth and I were speechless as the blue coalesced into various curving shapes along the blade. Runes.

  Allandrea examined the runes and then nodded, satisfied. The glowing blue dissipated, and the runes disappeared.

  “Nimue knows more than we give her credit,” Allandrea explained.

  “If Nimue is the Lady of the Lake, then I expect her to know everything from creation to Ragnarok.”

  Allandrea chortled. “She’s not the omniscient. But she’s wise. There are few beings of magic who are native to Earth. But magic has existed here before. Some of the more charitable mages among my kin sense it too. Earth is no stranger to magic. It was just subtler, in a time. It held its own form of magic.”

  “Some scholars think rifts opened in the past.”

  “Undoubtedly. I visited Earth, in ages past. A lot has changed since then. Things have improved, but also gotten worse. It is easier to prosper, but also harder to hide. Elves cannot remain concealed and incognito on this planet anymore.”

  “And that’s why the War Court wants to ensure elves can survive and fight?” I asked.