Shattered Stars

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Shattered Stars Page 11

by Theresa Kay


  I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder. I’d welcome one of Rym’s corny jokes right now, but he’s uncharacteristically silent. Or maybe his attention is elsewhere… like firmly directed toward the front of the ship, where Kai’s sitting as the pilot.

  The idea of this trip sounded good, but now that we’re here… I don’t know. After my little jaunt into Jace’s head, I’m more aware of what Jastren can do, and it’s so much worse than I thought. His ability is much stronger than it should be. Even I can realize that. Could it be that whatever he did to himself after his kitu was disabled, whatever manipulation or experimentation he performed on himself, resulted in something much darker than the Reva line’s original ability? Something that may or may not have a lasting effect on the minds Jastren manipulates? It’s certainly a good possibility. This is probably one of the things Dad would know more about. I guess I have to talk to him once we’re back. And after my chat with Rym, maybe that doesn’t sound quite as awful as it once did.

  The askari file out of the ship one by one. Rym exits next, leaving Lir and I alone.

  “Do you think this is the time to chat we were promised?” I ask, half-jokingly.

  Lir shakes his head. “I doubt it. We should probably get out there.” He doesn’t move.

  I squeeze his hand. “Whatever happens… we’ll be together.”

  He nods.

  I move to exit the ship, but his hold on my hand stops me. The eyes that meet mine are worried and intense. He squeezes my hand. “Please promise me one thing. Promise me you won’t throw yourself into danger, not without talking to me first. You don’t always…”

  “Think things through?” It’s on the tip of my tongue to remind him once again that I didn’t do anything back there—but a smile ghosts across his lips, only barely reaching his eyes, and I don’t want to do anything to make that bit of levity go away. “I promise,” I say. “I know I haven’t always been the best bondmate. I’ve doubted you, doubted us, doubted everything. But I want you to know that I’m in this. I never bothered to try to understand how this all works, but when you found me after Bridgelake and Flint and everything… I finally got it. It’s like Peter said: if you don’t have at least a little faith, then you have nothing. I didn’t let myself have faith in our bond before, but I do now. You can make it through this. We can make it through this.”

  Warmth flows across the bond and wraps around me as he brings his eyes to meet mine. A smile—a real one—breaks across his face, and adoration shines in the depths of his emerald eyes. There is no need for you to apologize to me. I felt it when you accepted the bond. I already knew you were “in this.” He chuckles. Besides, I had my own instances of doubt and lack of faith. You are probably due an apology from me.

  I return his smile. “We—”

  “Guys.” Rym’s head pops through the doorway. “Come on already.”

  Lir leads me off the ship, never letting go of my hand. We find Rym leaning on the ship next to the doorway, but the others have spread out again, this time with their backs to us.

  Rym straightens and uncrosses his arms. “Ready?”

  Lir gives him a sharp nod. “Yes.” His shoulders stiffen, and he holds his head with an almost arrogant tilt. It’s the soldier side of him coming out, that “prim and proper” son of Stellan Vestra.

  I chuckle under my breath, and he glances at me from the corner of his eye.

  “What?” he asks.

  “It’s weird seeing you act like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re…” My voice trails off, and I shrug.

  “Like I am someone important?” One side of his mouth is curled upward, and that damned eyebrow of his is up again. He’s teasing me.

  I give him a droll look and roll my eyes. Oh yes, all hail King Lir.

  He grins, and his body relaxes slightly as he nudges me with his shoulder. You can simply address me as “Your Majesty.”

  Yeah. I’ll get right on that.

  He smiles again. There’s still tension and worry on his face, but there’s hope there too, like maybe this will all work out. Clearly, Rym isn’t the only one who’s helped by joking around. For all their differences, the two guys have more in common than they realize.

  Case in point, Rym’s stature right now. It’s a mirror image of Lir’s: shoulders back, chin up. It’s a side of the golden joker I’ve never seen before, and as the askari circle around us and I walk forward with the two boys side by side just ahead of me, his status here—and Lir’s—hits me again.

  The E’rikon elite, Dad called them. In a weird way, the two of them are royalty here. Princes, or something like that. Hell, for all I know, “king” might be an accurate comparison to whatever position Lir’s father held. The position Lir should hold now.

  And I’m like some kind of ill-mannered peasant next to the two of them.

  They are literally “golden boys.” And as I look closer at the Vi’askari around us, I see that they all have a subtle metallic tint to them as well. The other askari, the ones who trail behind, are plainer somehow… more like Karo. They lack that inner light, the “shine” I thought was characteristic of the E’rikon. Maybe it’s only a characteristic of some of them—and from what I gather, it’s probably only the elite or upper class. That definitely makes me a peasant, because there’s not the slightest bit of shine to me.

  I study the back of Lir’s head as he walks in front of me. I’ve learned more about E’rikon culture today than I have in the entire time I’ve known Lir, but I have more questions now instead of less. Exactly how “strict” is the caste system my dad talked about? Is my… “pedigree” going to be a barrier to these negotiations? Vira thought it might. Craziness aside, Vitrad never seemed very open-minded about humans; does that extend to the lower classes of E’rikon? And what about the rest of the E’rikon elite—where will they stand? Where will the Council stand? Hell, who’s on the Council? Is it made up of E’rikon from all classes, or only the higher ones?

  Worry crawls into my stomach.

  And past status aside, where does Lir stand here? Kai said the Council spared his life. But what about now? Rym seems pretty confident his sister is on our side and that his father is capable of seeing reason, but I’m not so sure. Are we doing exactly what Vitrad wants—exactly what Jastren wants—by waltzing back into the city?

  I’m so absorbed in my increasingly pessimistic thoughts, I crash into Lir’s back instead of noticing he’s stopped walking. He reaches back to steady me, shooting me a reassuring half smile over his shoulder.

  Kai and Miri incline their heads slightly and part to allow someone to enter our little protection circle or whatever. It’s Trel, and she’s just as gorgeous as I remember. With her long golden hair and silky white gown, she looks like some sort of goddess. She leans in to hug her brother, and her rounded stomach finally registers with me. She’s pregnant? How… er, well, when?

  She hid it well. Lir’s voice startles me, and I jerk my eyes away from Trel to find him staring at me.

  Is that why my dad promised her a kitu? For the baby?

  He nods, then looks back at Trel with a wistful expression.

  She and Rym appear to be having a pretty intense mental conversation. Rym nods, and her eyes dart to Lir and then to me. She smiles and steps around her brother to take one of my hands in both of hers.

  “On behalf of my family, let me welcome you, Jax Mitchell, bondmate to the Vestra heir. May the stars and the suns shine upon you.” She inclines her head slightly, punctuating the words with the graceful movement.

  Some kind of response is clearly expected, but I have no clue what it is. I swallow and wrack my brain trying to come up with something that will sound suitably… formal?

  I thank you, Lir prompts as he moves to stand next to me. He hovers his hand over my lower back. And I accept your welcome. May the stars and the suns shine upon you.

  I fumble through repeating the lines Lir fed me, and I try to mimic Trel’s fl
uid movement. The side of Rym’s mouth tips up at my efforts. Graceful I am not.

  Trel turns to Lir. “Welcome home, my cousin and my friend. May the stars and the suns shine upon you. ”

  Lir smiles—a dazzling thing, full of light and hope. “I thank you, cousin… friend. May the stars and the suns shine upon you.”

  I’m gathering that whatever is going on here is a good thing, and judging by Lir’s reaction, it’s unexpected as well. She really is on our side.

  Rym links arms with his sister while Lir removes his hand from my back and gently twines my left arm through his bent elbow. He places my hand on the cool metal of his kitu, and we stride forward as a group, the Vi’askari spread out around us.

  I’m still not quite sure what just happened.

  At my questioning look, Lir explains. You have been formally welcomed by the Linaud family. She also formally acknowledged our bond, and the way we are positioned now demonstrates that bond to any who may be watching.

  Geez, wouldn’t a handshake suffice? This all seems overly complicated. None of you acted like this before.

  He chuckles under his breath. He angles his face in my direction and raises an eyebrow, relaxed and happy. He’s back in his element, comforted by the formality and familiarity of all this. You have never seen any of us in circumstances that require the more formal traditions.

  He’s right, but that doesn’t make it any less strange to me… or any less nerve-wracking. I’m not exactly the bow-and-curtsy type. Is this what will be expected of me if—

  Stop worrying. No one will make you do anything you do not want to, least of all me. Lir’s other hand comes up to cover mine. This is a good thing. The formality… protects us in a way. By welcoming you publicly, Trel has shown that you have favor with her family.

  Now that he’s mentioned the word “public,” I can feel the eyes on me. It wouldn’t be so bad—the few E’rikon I see aren’t looking at me with open hostility or anything—except that the closest ones are brushing across my mind. The touches are gentle, almost curious, but they fill me with a cold dread all the same. A chill shoots through my body, and nausea twists in my stomach.

  I grit my teeth. One foot in front of the other. They aren’t trying to hurt me. Breathe.

  I’m not sure if I transmitted that last thought or if something in my face tips him off, but Lir releases my hand and wraps his arm around my waist. “What’s wrong?”

  A harder graze against my shaky mental defenses has me squeezing my eyes shut and tensing my jaw. Blind, I stumble. Lir’s arm around my waist is the only thing keeping me from falling on my face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks again, a hint of worry invading the question.

  “They’re…” I wave my free arm around. My voice drops to a whisper. “They’re trying to get in my head.”

  His brow furrows, and he shakes his head softly. “That… they… I do not think…”

  Another wave hits, and my knees nearly give out. Lir catches me again, concern and confusion rolling through the bond as he completely stops walking.

  “Rym,” he calls out. “Something is wrong.”

  Rym pauses, turns, then quickly steps toward us. Trel follows his lead. Rym’s eyes move over me in a quick assessment.

  “She says the others are trying to access her mind,” Lir says.

  “This has not been a problem for her before. Why would it be now?” Trel pulls her lower lip into her mouth and bites down.

  “She has not spent much time around other E’rikon lately,” Rym says. “She could be pulling them to her somehow—which should not be possible, by the way—but there is no telling what Jastren may have messed around with.” He crouches in front of me and looks into my eyes. “Jax, you need to find a way to block them out.”

  “No kidding,” I say through clenched teeth. “How exactly do I do that?”

  He turns to Lir. “Can’t you…”

  Lir throws a hand out helplessly. “I tried. I cannot feel them, not like I could with her brother.”

  Rym’s mouth twists. “Let’s get her inside. We can figure it out then.” He spins around and links arms with his sister again.

  “It is not much farther,” says Lir. “Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?”

  I shoot him a sharp look, raising my eyebrows.

  He smiles. “Walking it is.”

  The next few blocks pass by in a blur, and I barely register it when we stop in front of a tall building and Trel uses her kitu to unlock the door. We step inside, and instantly the other minds skittering across mine fade away—except for the now-familiar feeling of the bond. Weird.

  My steps steady as I follow the group to the elevator and file in behind Lir. The askari have all remained outside, leaving only Kai and his… crew to join us in the too-small metal box.

  I rest my head on Lir’s shoulder and close my eyes, trying to lessen the throbbing pain building in my head. What was that out there? Jastren tried for ages to get me to link with him, with no success, and now I’m practically linking with people all over the place. What the hell is going on with me?

  A steady current of worry flows from Lir, which makes my anxiety about the whole thing worse. If he doesn’t know what’s going on and it’s gotten him this worried, what does that mean for me?

  He presses a kiss to the top of my head as the elevator draws to a stop. Tension floods into Lir—tension unrelated to his concern for me—and Rym is looking a little pale as well. Where exactly are we?

  The doors slide open, leading into an apartment. Trel steps out and motions for us to follow.

  “He is through here,” she murmurs under her breath as she leads us across a small sitting room and down a hallway to another door.

  He? We’re doing this now?

  But there’s no time for me to question the wisdom of facing Vitrad right now—unprepared and with a headache from hell—because Trel is already opening the door and gesturing for us to go in ahead of her.

  There, sitting behind some sort of metal desk, is Vitrad. He’s pale, sickly-looking, and his chest rattles with a cough as he stands. Trel rushes to his side and threads her arm through his. She helps him across the room to a couch. Once he’s situated, he turns to me.

  “Hello again, Miss Mitchell.” His gaze falls on Lir and Rym, and pain flashes across his face. “Steliro. Virym.” He nods at each of them. “We have much to discuss.”

  LIR HAS BEEN HOLDING MY hand in a death grip for the past twenty or thirty minutes, and my fingers are beginning to go numb. There’s a weird mixture of rage and fear swirling around him, and a hyper-vigilance has turned his whole body rigid. His shoulders are angled to place me slightly behind him, and the one time I tried to scoot forward, he practically snarled at me. The rapid spikes in his emotions, flipping from protective, to enraged, to terrified, to helpless… they aren’t like him. He isn’t ready for this—not one-on-one, and sure as hell not on top of what happened at Peter’s cabin earlier. Trel should never have put him in this position so soon.

  But there’s nothing I can do. I can’t even understand the majority of what they’re saying. Any of it, really. Lir spewed out a long stream of E’rikonese as soon as we sat down, and the rest of the conversation has been entirely in that language.

  I wiggle my fingers and gently squeeze Lir’s hand. He doesn’t so much as glance at me. He’s too intent on whatever his uncle is saying in that annoyingly placating tone. Lir’s stoic facade falters with each of Vitrad’s patronizing smiles.

  To top it all off, I’m fairly certain they aren’t talking about the threat Jastren poses—but that instead, Vitrad is busy making excuses for his past actions.

  Rym, who’s sitting in a chair on my right, has his lips pressed together and a closed-off expression. If I’m reading him right, he’s having a mental conversation with his sister while he leaves his cousin to fight this battle alone. Why aren’t either of them doing anything?

  I’m not the biggest fan of the Linaud twins
at the moment. Rym should at least be doing something. Hell, even cracking a joke might help lower Lir’s rising tension level. But no. He’s been so blase about everything since Kai showed up that I’m beginning to wonder if he cares about anybody but himself. And maybe Kai.

  Or maybe I’m just hungry, have a killer headache, and am completely fed up with the whole situation. My growing irritation has completely washed away any of the fear I felt when I first saw Vitrad. Well, that and the fact he looks like he’s aged twenty years since I last saw him. Whatever has happened to him stole his ability to intimidate me. I suppose I should be grateful for that. It gives me an objectivity I wouldn’t have if I was busy fighting off anxiety. But it doesn’t help Lir—all he sees is the guy who tortured and beat him.

  Another wave of emotion, a confused devastation, crashes through the bond. Lir inhales sharply, then goes silent. His shoulders and his head drop.

  That’s it. I’ve had it.

  “Enough!” I yell, finally slipping my hand free and rising to my feet. I start with Trel, who’s perched on the arm of the couch next to her father. “I know this had to happen sometime, but I don’t know why you thought this was a good idea right now. It’s late. We need to rest. Whatever family drama you all need to hash out can be done tomorrow, after we have a chat with the Council, or whoever we need to talk to to discuss what we’re all going to do about Jastren.”

  Rym opens his mouth, and I shoot him a glare. “No. I don’t want to hear from you either right now.” I grab Lir’s hand and pull him to his feet, then stride toward the hallway off the living room. Oh crap. I have no idea where we’re supposed to sleep. I turn back to Rym. “Where are we staying?”

 

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