Starburner

by Claire Luana

  “You have what is mine!” Vikal shouted at the soul-eater, who turned to face him. He wasn’t sure he only meant his totem. He wanted to run to Rika, to cradle her face in his arms, but he was intent upon the soul-eater. He had learned the hard way not to turn his back on these creatures.

  “Our little thrall, back so soon? I am not surprised that you could not live without us. Free will is not for the weak.”

  Vikal spit on the deck, unsheathing his swords. “I would rather die than be under your control again.”

  “We can arrange that.” The soul-eater was upon Vikal in an instant, yielding his own staff like a weapon against him. Vikal ducked out of the way, ready for the leech’s blows, having seen them time and again as he had stood mutely by these creatures’ sides.

  Kemala knelt over Rika’s prone form, and from the corner of his eye, Vikal saw Rika move. She was alive. “Help the others,” Kemala called.

  Ajij and Bahti plunged into the battle below, forces of nature turned against the tide of thralls and leeches that were threatening to overwhelm the little knot of desperately fighting burners and constellations.

  And then all his focus was pulled back to the task at hand, dodging and ducking, striking blows that glanced off the soul-eater uselessly. He needed the power of starlight to kill this creature. “Cygna!” he called, risking a glance over his shoulder. Horror welled within him. The huge, distorted soul-eater grappled with the constellation, raking Cygna with her armored claws, clambering over it with insect-like grace. Cygna thrashed and clacked its beak, trying to throw her off. Could a constellation be killed?

  “Magnificent, isn’t she?” the soul-eater said. “A queen to be worshipped. Worthy of our devotion.”

  “She has you in her thrall, just like I was in yours.” Vikal grunted, leaping over a swing of his staff. Gods, he wanted that staff back. “You are a slave, just as I was.”

  The soul-eater bellowed, and this time, when it swung at him, Vikal dropped one of his swords and caught his totem, his arm flexing and straining to wrench it from the monster. Power flooded through him, filling him with knowledge of the threads of the green things of this world. He laughed with relief at the surge, redoubling his efforts to wrench his staff from the leech.

  Cygna let out a scream of pain behind him, drawing Vikal’s attention for an instant. It was enough. The soul-eater punched him in the face with its other arm, its armored gauntlet connecting with a sickening crunch. Vikal crumpled to the ground, stars exploding in his vision.

  The soul-eater hovered above him, the black eternity within its helmet mocking him with rasping laughter. “To come all this way only to die at my hand. The gods of your world surely are the sorriest lot I have ever encountered.”

  Anger burned in Vikal, swimming through the pain. He tried to rise, but his body rebelled, still in shock from the power and pain of the blow. The soul-eater drew his sword, its attention locked on Vikal. So intent that it didn’t see. It didn’t see Rika coming onto unsteady feet, her face ghostly pale and grim as the grave. Rika pulling the thread of her totem, summoning it to her hand. And pulling the thread of a star, infusing it into the blade so it glowed with white-hot starlight.

  As the soul-eater moved to make its killing blow, it hesitated, seeming to recognize the incongruity of Vikal’s teeth bared in a smile of triumph. But it was too late. Rika plunged her blade up under the leech’s helmet, into its spine and brainstem, if the soul-eaters in fact had such things. Starlight snaked into the recess of its helmet, cracking and expanding until the soul-eater exploded, the weight of its armor crashing at Rika’s feet. “It forgot about the goddesses,” Rika said, her breast heaving, her eyes glowing and wild.

  Vikal laughed incredulously and heaved himself to his feet. He crashed into Rika, pulling her up into his arms, not able to stand another second of separateness. When his lips met hers, she tasted of blood and stardust and the rightness of coming home. The pain and adrenaline coursing through his veins vanished as she wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing her lips to his, she as desperate as he to make up for the foolishness of their parting. Why had he ever left her?

  She pulled away with a gasp, doubling over in pain. “Cygna!” she said. “The queen!” The constellation and the queen of the soul-eaters were locked in deathly combat, and it seemed killing blows had been given on both sides. Sickly-green blood leaked from the queen as she snarled and leaped at the bird again with slashing claws; Cygna ducking and slashing with its talons. Starlight leaked from one ravaged eye, and its movements were labored.

  The others were running up the stairs now—two silver-haired women and a man with golden hair followed the other gods. “Together,” Rika said. “She’s too fast for me to get her alone. Hold her, and I’ll strike.”

  “With pleasure,” Bahti said, aiming a jet of fire at the soul-eater, sending her tumbling off the back of the constellation. They quickly moved around the queen, flanking her, surrounding her in a circle. Fire from Bahti and water from Ajij and lightning from the two silver-haired women pulverized the queen, pinning her to the deck even as she struggled to rise and flee. The bear and fox constellations flanked the queen, threatening her with gnashing teeth and rending claws. Rika moved in, her totem flashing, her three eyes glowing bright as stars. Vikal’s breath caught as Rika raised her blade for the killing blow, feeling as if all the world and past and future hung in the balance of this blow.

  Rika struck true. Her blade dropped, burying itself to the hilt in the soul-eater queen’s face. A shower of light exploded from the contact, searing his vision. When he blinked away the brightness, relief flooded him. The queen’s armor had fallen to the deck, empty and limp. Rika fell to her knees, leaning her forehead onto the deck. When she finally straightened, two crystal tears trickled down her cheeks. “Is it done?”

  Vikal turned and looked over the deck, praying that their theory had been correct—that without the queen, the soul-eaters would fall. All across the deck, the black-armored creatures were spasming and screeching, dropping to the deck, rolling into the fetal position. It seemed that they had no minds of their own without the instructions of their queen. It would be a simple matter of putting them down. “Almost,” he said, unable to believe it himself. The black-uniformed thralls milled about, rubbing their foreheads and looking about with confusion at their former captors, who now lay prone beside them.

  “Come on, fox,” Bahti said to the constellation that stood next to them, its bushy tail twitching.

  “I will assist,” Daarco said, motioning to the other constellation with a jerk of his chin. “Let’s finish these creatures so they’ll never hurt anyone again.”

  Vikal turned back to Rika, weary to his bones. He didn’t need to watch the extermination of these creatures. He’d had enough killing for a lifetime. He crouched down beside her. “Can you stand?” he asked.

  She shook her head, stumbling back onto her rear, leaning against the rail of the upper deck. “I think I’ll sit here for a moment,” she said, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Vikal sat beside her, stretching out his legs, taking her cold hand in his. She squeezed.

  The two silver-haired women sat down on either side of them, leaning back against the rail with a groan, laying down their weapons.

  The woman next to him had smooth skin and freckles across her nose, but her hazel eyes were deep and knowing. She wore her exhaustion like a fine cloak, regal even smeared with blood and covered with a sheen of sweat and dirt.

  “You must be Rika’s mother,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You must be the one she was waiting for,” she replied.

  His cheeks heated and he looked down at Rika, barely conscious, her head leaning against his shoulder. “I should have been here sooner.”

  “You made it. That’s all that matters. I’m Queen Kailani Shigetsu. But you can call me ‘Kai.’”

  “Vikal,” he replied.

  “And I’m Emi,” the other woman interjected, her scarr
ed face shining in the moonlight. “If you hurt her, I’ll be the one who comes for you.”

  Vikal’s eyes widened. Perhaps she was joking? But the woman had a certain ferocity that made him not want to cross her. “I do not intend to hurt her,” he said. “Not again, anyway.”

  Emi nodded. “As long as we understand each other, we’ll get along just fine.”

  Vikal looked down at Rika, her eyes still closed. A ghost of a smile danced on her lips. Yes, they’d all get along just fine.

  RIKA’S RIDE BACK to Yoshai passed in flickers and glimpses. It was all she could do to cling to consciousness, to keep feeding her energy to the constellations that were finishing off the remaining soul-eaters. The one steadiness was Vikal’s presence next to her—carrying her down the stairs into the rowboat, lifting her into his arms as they stepped back onto the sand of Kitina. Vikal gently brushing her hair off her forehead, running his thumb along her temple. Finally, she heard the words her soul had been longing for, praying for. “It’s done,” he said. “Rest now.” And she did.

  Rika awoke in her bed in Yoshai, sunlight streaming through a crack in the dark curtains. The down of her bed felt luxurious and heavenly beneath her aching body. Everything about her room looked the same. The gauzy canopy over the bed, the lacquered wardrobe covered with soaring cranes, her bookshelves piled with astrology notebooks and journals. It was as if the past weeks had been a dream. Strange and horrible at times, powerful and heady at others. She squinted in the darkness, and her gaze fell on a figure sleeping next to her. Her heart stuttered. Vikal. Sitting in her armchair, dragged over from the fireplace to her bedside. He snored gently, his head tipped against the brocade wingback of the chair. No, it wasn’t a dream. Rika’s hand strayed to her forehead, where she ran her fingertips across the marking of her tattoo.

  Vikal looked so peaceful; she didn’t want to disturb him. But her stomach growled and her bladder urged her to emerge from the warm cocoon of her bed, so she threw back the covers and tiptoed to the bathroom to relieve herself. When she returned, wrapping herself in a colorful silken robe, Vikal was just beginning to stir.

  She sat on the bed facing him, watching the dark of his lashes flutter against his cheeks as he groaned. He was as exquisite as a statue, too handsome to be fair. Her lips tingled at the memory of their kiss, of the heat and salt of his mouth pressed against hers, his hands firm on her back. Had it been a moment of madness birthed by the heat of battle? Was their connection some imagined thing manufactured by danger and adrenaline and mortality? True, they were soulmates according to legend, but was that real? Was it what her heart felt?

  Vikal opened his eyes, the lemongrass green of his irises meeting hers. A jolt of heat burned through her—awareness and anticipation. He smiled sleepily at her, and all reason fled. All she wanted was to see that sleepy smile every morning for the rest of her life. There was no denying what her heart felt.

  “You’re finally awake,” he said. “How do you feel?”

  “Good,” she said. “Refreshed. Starving, though.”

  He chuckled, stretching his arms out, arching his back. “I’m not surprised. You slept for the better part of two days.”

  “Two days!” Rika squeaked, shooting to her feet. “Where’s my mother? What’s going on? Are any of the leeches still fighting? Is Cygna okay?” The last she had seen of the night sparrow, it had been grievously wounded in its battle with the queen.

  “Relax,” he said. “We did it. The last leeches are dead. Cygna survived and has returned to the stars to mend. The thralls are all free. A little confused about where in creation they are, as most of them are Nuan. But your mother and her council have been distributing food and arranging temporary housing. She is a very efficient monarch. A little scary how good she is at handling everything, actually. I could learn a thing or two.”

  Rika sank back onto the bed in relief. “Yes, my mother always made being queen look easy. As a kid, I was certain I’d never measure up.”

  “That is not the case anymore. You should hear her go on and on about how proud of you she is. It is almost like you saved your entire nation singlehandedly.”

  Rika blushed. “Not exactly singlehandedly.”

  “Perhaps not, but do not discount your contribution. You are a more magnificent goddess of bright light then I could have ever imagined.”

  Rika’s blush deepened. “Thank you for coming, Vikal. All of you. If you hadn’t…”

  “I should have come from the beginning. I promised.”

  “I released you from that promise. I understood why you stayed. You needed to protect your people. Were you able to defeat the soul-eaters? Did everyone…make it?”

  He shook his head. “Everyone but one. Sarnak. He used his powers to hold the cavern and all our people out of time until we could arrive. They killed him for it.”

  Rika closed her eyes. Sarnak. Another man who had felt like a father to her, albeit briefly, dead. He had been an infuriating, but wonderful, teacher for their short time together. “I’ll miss him,” she finally said. “But it sounds like his sacrifice saved many.”

  “It did. And in Nua, we do not mourn the passage of a god. Not really. We celebrate their life and what they accomplished in this incarnation. He will be back.”

  Rika smiled wryly. “Can you imagine Sarnak’s grumpy face on some tiny baby body? His poor parents.”

  Vikal laughed. “I hope I am alive to see it.”

  “Me too,” she said, but the words stalled in her mouth. She pursed her lips. She wasn’t Nuan, even if she was their goddess.

  Vikal stood and in one swift step came to sit on the bed by her side. When he intertwined his fingers through hers, her body came alive with awareness of his presence. “Rika,” he said. His voice was tentative, unsure.

  She wanted to encourage him. “Yes?” she asked.

  “It will be time for the gods to leave soon, to return to our people. And before I do, there is something I must say. I do not have much to offer a woman. A half-burnt island across a universe of stars. A scattered people, shell-shocked by war and death. A heart so deeply scarred that I thought…I thought it would never be whole again. Memories that I do not want to forget, but that I am ready to set aside. So they no longer own me. These things are a meager offering for a goddess blessed by the heavens themselves…” He trailed off, raising his gaze to hers. Her breath was tight in her throat, but she didn’t respond, letting the silence stretch between them. She needed to hear. Needed to hear how he felt. That he chose her. That he wasn’t just a god giving himself over to the whims of fate.

  He continued. “What I can offer, however, is my love. Because you have brought to life a part of me that I thought was long dead and buried. What I thought was only darkness is light once again. I love you, Rika. I’ve loved you from the moment you, a tiny scrap of a woman, looked a soul-eater in the face without a trace of fear in your eyes and destroyed him with purifying fire. I did not see it for what it was until I almost lost you, and you hovered near death in the caverns. And even then, I was too afraid to feel it, to let it be true, until you were gone, sailing away and I realized I could never deny what is between us. It is as deep a part of me as my arm or my totem or my magic. I love you, Rika, and I hope beyond hope that despite all my foolish missteps, that you might love me too.” The words had tumbled out, faster and faster, until they were all spent. Finally, Vikal looked up, gauging her reaction. “You are crying,” he said, raising his hand to wipe away one a tear.

  She nodded. “I love you too,” she whispered. “Sure took you long enough.”

  A wide grin split Vikal’s face, and he took her other hand in his. “You do? Truly?”

  “Truly.” And then she kissed him.

  After an instant of surprise, Vikal wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. Her heart sang with the rightness of it, the taste of him, the heady elixir of passion and possibility. His tongue expertly parted her lips and his hands tightened as they ran up he
r back to tangle in her hair.

  She lost all her moorings, her thoughts swept away in the delicious tide that was Vikal. All she wanted was him, more and more until she knew every part of him, every bright space and dark place alike.

  She melted into him, hooking a knee up to push him back onto the bed, but her momentum was cut off by a knock on the door.

  Vikal broke off their kiss with a gasp. “Should we get that?”

  Rika pouted. “They can come back later.”

  Another knock. She sighed and broke off the embrace, wiping the corner of her lips, which were pleasantly buzzing from Vikal’s ministrations.

  “Come in!” she called, straightening her robe.

  “It’s so dark in here,” Koji said, striding into the room. “What were you two doing?” He crossed the room and threw the curtains open.

  Rika squinted, raising a hand to block out the sudden influx of light. “Sleeping?” she retorted, her heart hammering in her chest.

  “Whatever you call it.” Koji smirked. “I’m glad you’re awake. Saves me the trouble of shaking you back to life. Mother wanted me to tell you that you have two hours until Father’s wake. She wanted you to have enough time to get ready before sundown.”

  “Wake?” Rika’s soaring heart thudded back down to earth.

  “We were so busy defending against the soul-eaters that we haven’t had a chance to honor him. Tonight is the full moon; Mother thought it would be best.”

  Rika nodded. “I’m glad I’ll be able to be here.”

  “Me too,” Koji said. “It wouldn’t have been right without you.” Koji stood awkwardly for a moment before turning to leave.

  “Thanks, Ko,” Rika said softly.

  He nodded, closing the door behind him.

  Vikal stood, taking a step back. “I will let you get ready. Perhaps we can talk after this wake?”

  “You’re not coming?” Rika asked, grabbing his hand, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

  “I did not know your father. Except…” He trailed off. Oh, yes, she remembered. When he helped the soul-eaters kill him. “I want to be respectful,” he finished.