Look to the Stars (The Orien Trilogy Book 1)

by Catherine Wilson

  It’s not long before our carriage comes to a stop, and I carefully lean toward the small opening in the door, taking in the massive wall that spans before us. Unlike Ashen’s wooden gates, these are made of pure stone. Without a doubt, they are impossible to breach. My head tips back as my eyes wander, sizing up the impressive height and circular watchtowers where men in white tunics stand in observation. I hear Bates give an impatient whistle, and there’s a loud shudder as the men begin to open the impressive gates etched right into the wall.

  All too soon, we jerk forward again, and my hands reach out, fumbling along the wall in an attempt to hold me upright.

  “You’ll be fine, Bravest. I promise,” Aras whispers, reaching out and pulling my hands into his own. “Please don’t worry. You have no idea how much it hurts me to take you here, but we both know that this is only a means to an end. You’ll get through this, and you’ll be far better for it, too.”

  I squeeze his hand, trying my best to let his words soothe the heating flame I feel building from within, but I can’t help notice that he only speaks of me and what’s to come. He doesn’t say a word of himself. Based on Ian and Bates’ words alone, I know this won’t be a happy homecoming for him either. If anything, it may be worse. I lean forward, the questions fresh on my lips, but he shakes his head as if he knows what I mean to say, stopping my words before they even have a chance to form.

  “Look,” he says, tilting his chin toward the window as the backside of Orien slides into view.

  Our carriage bounces and the hooves of our horses clop loudly against the cobbled streets, causing us to release our clasped hands and grab hold of the narrow benches below. I don’t know what I anticipated, but if there were ever a place of darkness in the full daylight, this would be it. All around us, tall stone walls rise, corralling our small carriage like a rat in a maze. The dark walls of the castle come into view, its turrets spiraling up like greedy fingers reaching for the sky, and I expect at any moment for the blackness of it all to swallow me whole.

  Which I’m sure is exactly my father’s intention any time his home greets new guests.

  “All of Orien isn’t like this,” Aras says as his careful eyes take in the familiar scene before us. “The city itself is mostly free from Knox’s obsession of black and all things evil. It’s colorful, even. A nice place to call home, if you can ignore the brooding, dark castle in its background, that is.”

  His words tighten the cord around my chest, digging up ugly thoughts I desperately hoped to ignore. A nice place to call home. And for some, who don’t mind bending to the needs of an angry ruler, I’m sure it is. But not for me. It will never be home. The only home I’ve ever known was in Ashen, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get those I love back there with me.

  “Bravest,” Aras calls, reaching out for my hands once more and forcing my eyes away from the towering walls above, “Bates is taking us in through the servants’ quarters. Some of Knox’s men will be waiting for us outside, and we’ll walk down some stairs and into a side door. Everyone is working at this time of day, so the passage should be clear.”

  Something about the way he mentions Knox’s men, as if he thinks I need to be prepared for the worst, forces clarity into my thoughts. A wave of defense shatters my fear. If I want to survive my time here, then I have to know what I’m up against.

  “And these men, are they some of his chosen few that you spoke of so long ago? The ones that guard him at every step in case the burning flames aren’t enough?”

  Aras’ shoulders slump, and a grim line crosses his face. He moves to take his hands from mine, but I hold tight. Instead, I pull him so hard that he ends up on the same bench as me, rocking the carriage with his weight. The sudden movement is undeniable, and together, we freeze, waiting for Bates to berate us. After a few long seconds, no voices come, and we release an uneasy breath, thankful that Bates didn’t stop the carriage outright.

  “Yes,” Aras finally whispers as his head falls back against the carriage wall. “They are part of his inner circle, and you’d do best to avoid them at all costs.”

  When I don’t respond, his head jerks up. His eyes are narrowed as if he can sense my unruliness from within. “I mean it, Bravest. None of this mouthy business. These men will serve Knox until their death, no questions asked. If they so much as think that you’re a threat, they’ll end you, and Knox would praise them for it.”

  “Just like that?” I frown with not the least bit of understanding for his words. “And after all this trouble to get me here, Knox would be perfectly fine if one of them just decided to kill me?”

  He opens his mouth to speak, clear unease written on his face, but I plow on, not willing to go unheard. “And what do they think they could do, exactly? Chase me with a knife while I shower them with flames?”

  “No, Bravest, you don’t understand—”

  “You’re right,” I say, cutting him off again. “Considering I was close to burning my own magical cousin, I don’t understand. What could these men possibly do to me that I couldn’t match, and why in Ashen didn’t you warn me about Bates? I’ve never once held my tongue against him, yet you didn’t seem to have a problem then. Why now? What aren’t you telling me, Aras?”

  “I’m not…” He pauses, fumbling over his words and running a hand through his unraveling curls. “It’s not that I’m hiding anything. It’s just that these men are different. They aren’t like Bates.”

  “But I thought you said Bates is one of my father’s closest men?”

  “He is.” He sighs. “However, to truly become one of his inner circle, you have to let go of your own free will. Despite your father’s wishes, that wasn’t something Bates ever wanted to give up.”

  “His will? I’d say anyone who works for Knox never had any to begin with.”

  “I understand your confusion, but you’re only just beginning to fathom the powers that run in your blood,” he rushes, grabbing hold of my forearms as if he could shake the words into me. “Magic is different, and you don’t understand the price that some men are willing to pay for even just a little taste.”

  The carriage comes to a halt, and although I know we should move, the power of his words won’t let me go just yet. “What do you mean by a taste?”

  Aras opens his mouth to answer, but stops just as the door to my back rips open and a large head barges through. My body jumps as Aras’ hands release me, and I spin to take in our new guest.

  “Well, would you look at that,” says a man with long, dark hair that lays in a stringy mess past his shoulders. He wears the white tunic of Orien. When he catches the look in my wide eyes, his lips rise with a haunting smirk. “What do you think, Aras? Was she worth all the trouble?”

  My lips skew, and I start to lean forward, every muscle on edge as I fight to keep the nasty reply from leaving my mouth. Aras catches my arm, sending me a subtle shake, before moving toward the door and pushing our new friend out of the way. “Every delightful second of it, Hammel. Now move so we can all be on our way. The king has waited long enough for this moment, and I highly doubt he’d like to be put off any longer.”

  Hammel snarls, backing away as we pour from the tight box. “Perhaps he’s not the only one who has been waiting, aye, Aras? It seems as though you’re in a bit of a hurry to understand our king’s needs, but I think we know that will come in just a short time now, won’t it?”

  Aras slams his fists against the giant man’s shoulders. He has to stand at least a head taller and a half a body wider than Aras. Without thinking, I move to touch his back, not understanding the new rage that burns within his blood, but something stops me midway, and I jerk around to find Bates holding my arm.

  “Remember to heed Aras’ advice, Princess,” he says with a shake of his head. “For once, he may have been right.” Dropping my arm, he turns to grab my pack out of the carriage and shoves it into my chest. “If there is anything worth keeping in here, you’ll hold tight to it, or else you can consider it gone
. Understood?”

  I strap it to my back and give a stiff nod, fighting a cringe at the way my chin slightly quivers in response. In front of me, Aras and Hammel eye each other in some silent duel, and it takes all I have to clear my throat when I notice three more men approaching from the narrow stairs at the castle’s base. The quiet sound is enough to shake the tension as both Aras and Hammel break away and move to greet the men before us.

  “Aras.” The tall one with short, brown hair nods in a careless greeting.

  My eyes flit carefully to Aras, who now stands restlessly beside Hammel, as if his feet have somewhere to go, and it’s anywhere but here. The back of his neck crawls with tension, and more than anything, I wish I could see those blue eyes that normally light up any space. If I could, then maybe I’d understand a lick of what he’s thinking. But with the rigid line of his shoulders and sharpness of his breaths, I can’t imagine it’s anything good.

  When Aras makes no move to respond, the man’s dark eyes break away, landing on me as an afterthought, as if he’s only just noticed my presence. His gaze roams from my braided hair to my worn boots, appraising me with a grim satisfaction before returning to Aras.

  “The king wishes to see you now. Both of you,” he says before he turns to walk back down the steps.

  As if on command, everyone else moves to follow. Bates takes me by the elbow, pulling me behind an ever-silent Aras. Though I don’t dare reach out or say a word, every part of me begs for him to turn around and send me just one tiny bit of hope. But the closer we get to the stairs, the farther away he feels, and I don’t even notice the scrape of my boot along the stones until I’m on my knees.

  “Now is not the time for cowardice, Brave,” Bates whispers in my ear as he yanks me to a stand. “You are a strong girl, and don’t you dare let a soul believe any different.”

  My eyes flash to his, a flat slate of gray with the hint of something more. His dark brows rise ever so slightly, as if daring me to speak against him, but I simply raise my own in return, showing him I heard his words loud and clear. I don’t know why Bates has suddenly taken to the spouting of sound advice, but something about the way his eyes dart about the men before us and back again tells the story of a hidden man. A very different one than I first met in Ashen and crossed the woods with not more than a day ago.

  Perhaps of a man who I’d like to know.

  Without another word, we descend the steps, taking them two at a time in an effort to catch up with the rest of Knox’s men. All too soon, the bottom floor greets us with a single door. The nameless man who greeted Aras opens it wide and moves ahead without so much as a glance back. For one fateful moment, Aras’ head turns and I catch what I know to be only the strongest of encouragements shining in his careful eyes. It isn’t much, but it’s all I need to carry me forward and through to the darkness inside.

  Just as I step into the narrow hallway with Bates still dutifully clutching my elbow, Hammel stops, rounding about until his large chest is near inches from my face. I startle, snapping my head back and not finding myself the least bit sorry when I can’t stop the glare as I look up into his sneering face. Small torches line the walls, but only a handful are lit, making him seem even more menacing in the low light.

  “It’s quite dark in here, isn’t it, Princess?” he whispers, and I try not to gag as his hot breath dusts against my cheek. “Perhaps we need a little light.”

  His dark eyes seep with an unspoken challenge, and when my heart pitters to a stop at his words, he smiles as if he can hear my body’s turmoil from within. Beside me, Bates’ grip tightens on my arm. Whether it’s to remind me to be brave or to remember my place, I’m not sure. Choosing to be a little of both, I shrug my shoulders, staring back with a coolness of my own.

  His brows narrow and his thin lips pinch in disgust. “I said, perhaps we need a little light!”

  His growl sounds through the hallway, bouncing off the thick walls. This time, even Bates can’t stop the shudder that rocks my frame. Ahead of us, Aras spins on his heel. The darkness holds nothing on the blatant anger that flashes through his eyes.

  “Get away from her!” Aras roars, snatching hold of Hammel’s shoulder and throwing him back against the wall.

  A callous laugh pours from Hammel’s lips, amusement lining his features. “A little too protective of the king’s daughter, are we? If she’s anything like him, I believe she can handle her own.”

  “Enough!” Bates barks, grabbing Aras’ arm and pulling him back. “The king waits.”

  Aras finally turns, barely pausing to meet his stony gaze before dropping his hands from Hammel’s chest and storming a few steps forward to wait ahead in the dark hall where Knox’s men disappeared. Hammel hangs back, watching him retreat, and I curl my fingers, fighting the flames that ache to be lit. If this man doesn’t move soon, I’m afraid that even Bates’ calm grip can’t keep the building heat in check.

  “Well, it’s no matter,” Hammel says, turning to flash me a smile. “You may be scared, but I’m not.”

  At his words, a single flame lights upon the tip of his finger. My body rocks back into Bates’ solid form. Pure satisfaction sings from Hammel’s pores as he watches my frantic retreat, more than a little happy to see that his secret caught me off guard.

  “Put that flame out, you fool,” Bates says in a voice I thought he only reserved for me when he’s particularly annoyed. “Unlike the princess, your gift is on borrowed time and can be snuffed out whenever the king sees fit. If Knox knew you were wasting it on one young girl’s reaction, he’d light up your whole being himself.”

  Hammel’s cool smile falters, turning into an ugly scowl at the edges. In an instant, his flame goes out, and he turns to push past Aras, who still stands frozen in the tight hallway, watching from a few paces away. The force of Hammel’s retreat sends his long hair flapping to the side, and like a magic all in itself, my eyes land on the dark mark hidden upon his neck.

  A small, black circle with four curving lines rising from the top—each of their tips tinged in red. Except now, I understand that they were never simple lines to begin with.

  They’re flames.

  I don’t even realize that my legs have begun to crumple until I feel the pull of Bates against my arm, begging me once more to stand my ground. Aras lurches back to take hold of my other side. Together, they force my feet to move down the hall. Though they don’t say a word, it’s their chosen silence that speaks the most.

  For they were right when they said I have a lot to learn, starting with why this horrible man has the same black mark that’s painted on Aras’ back.

  Fifty-Five

  A taste of magic.

  “We’re almost there, Bravest.”

  Free will.

  “At the top of these stairs, we’re going to turn onto the grand hall, which will lead us right into your father’s meeting chambers.”

  Black marks.

  “Knox’s men will wait outside the chambers when the three of us go in. You should just let Bates and me do the talking. Better yet, it’s best if you don’t speak at all, unless you’re directly addressed. Even then—”

  Promise.

  “Bravest?”

  Gentle hands pull me to a stop as we top the last of the stairs, and I’m greeted with smooth stone floors lined in the middle with thin, red carpet. Arched windows crawl up from the floor and curve back down when they nearly meet the ceiling. Ornate, candlelit fixtures hang from above. Their curved rods like twisted branches, falling every ten paces down the massive hall, adding light to the already-bright room. At the end, the red carpets meet with a wide staircase, rising up several steps before stopping at a large landing and parting into two smaller cases that ascend in opposite directions. In the middle of the cases, settled back upon the large landing, stands an arched, wooden door. Its front is painted a dark red to match the carpet, and its sides are guarded with what looks to be two sculpted panthers. Their stone gaze pins me in place, sending chills acr
oss my sweaty neck.

  Death.

  “Bravest?” Aras repeats, stepping in front of me as if he can block the bleeding red that now oozes across my vision. “Did you hear me?”

  Before he can stop himself, his hand reaches up to cup my cheek. I jump back as if burned from even his softest touch. Aras’ lips twist into a grimace, and his eyes cloud over with more than just worry.

  Fear.

  I can’t wait any longer.

  “What does the mark mean, Aras?” I finally whisper, catching the way his shoulders flinch at my words.

  Beside me, Bates drops his hold, muttering something about Aras’ mental capacity being that of a small animal before he marches down the hall toward the looming door. The rest of Knox’s men stand near the bottom of the stairs. Their eyes stare holes into the carpet, just as sure as their ears burn with strain.

  “Please,” I beg, well aware of the slight quiver in my voice.

  His handsome face all but crumbles, and his mouth moves to open before closing again. Behind him, a throat clears, and Aras’ eyes jump to my own in a silent plea. He wants me to wait. He wants me to give him time to explain. And I will. I’m more than willing… but something tells me our time together came to an end the moment we exited those woods.

  In answer, I grab hold of his arm, willing him to pull me forward and straight to the man who may very well kill me on sight. Kill us both. Aras follows my command, leading me down the hall toward the looming red door. When we reach the steps, Knox’s men stand emotionless, another set of stone panthers waiting for their prey. But then my eyes land on Bates, and it’s the emotion that sparks deep within his eyes that makes me feel something else entirely.