The Girl Who Called The Stars

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “The herbs are calling the spell to activate inside you,” she said. “You’re probably a little overwhelmed right now. Don’t worry, it’s normal.”

  I wasn’t sure if normal was the right word, but thankfully, the internal explosions had begun to sizzle out some, and I felt a little less lightheaded. I was left with the flavor: exotic citrus and lime. It made my insides buzz and hum.

  “What do I do now?” I asked.

  “Whatever the magic inside you needs.” Beck nodded at my teacup. “And you should finish that. When you’re done, you can go out back if you want to be alone. Or take it with you.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” I grabbed my cup and headed for the back door she’d pointed at. It was tempting to stay inside where I could hold on to Beck if things got any weirder, but she was right. The magic inside me—or something inside me, anyway—was pushing for fresh air. And solitude.

  I decided to listen.

  Beck held the door for me, and I slipped outside into the overcast morning. Behind me, the door shut with a soft click. When I was alone, I stared into the cooling liquid for several moments, debating. I wasn’t sure when or how this day had gotten so weird, but it didn’t matter. Scared or not, there was no turning back now.

  It was time to see if Beck could really deliver.

  It was time to remember.

  I raised the little cup to my lips and knocked it back, drinking the remaining contents in one gulp. Inside my chest, the fireworks exploded again, tangy and exciting, but the flavor was different this time.

  I stared at the empty cup in surprise as the hot liquid washed over my tongue. This flavor was heavy and dark, reminding me of bourbon and a musky cigar. I stood for a minute longer, lightheaded from the sensations that spread through me like wildfire. Until I couldn’t stand still anymore.

  One wobbly foot in front of the other, I ventured farther into Beck’s backyard. To my right the yard opened up to an empty space before giving way to the forest. I could still see the remains of the Ngili’s ritual remains from last night. Not an ideal place to go on whatever psychedelic trip this tea had in store.

  I went left, wandering among the neatly trimmed hedges of Beck’s garden. In this moment, with the cover of clouds like a blanket lying over the whole town and the hedges obscuring any sign of others from view, I felt more alone than I had in weeks.

  I continued down the winding trail bordered on both sides by bushes I’d never seen before. The tea wound its way through me as I walked, sending waves of dizziness over me until I knew I needed to stop and sit.

  Just ahead, a grouping of massive, flowering bushes created an archway that led into a small ringed garden. It looked like a small cocoon—the perfect place to sit and geek out on a magical (possibly drugged) cup of tea. Breathing heavily now, I stumbled the last few steps, and then lowered myself clumsily to the ground in the center of it.

  With slanted vision, I looked around me at the flowers that rose up around me on all sides. In the center of the bright blooms, black dots danced before my eyes, and no amount of blinking chased them away.

  I was glad I was sitting.

  The fire inside me had dulled again, leaving behind a buzzing along my skin that intensified with touch. I’d never done any sort of drugs on Earth. Peter had been too scared that it would cause me to lose my grip on my control, and I’d expose myself in front of humans. I’d been too scared of Peter to attempt it. But I had a feeling that’s what this was now. A drugged state that lulled me into a simple sort of enjoyment of whatever happened to be closest to where I’d landed.

  The flowers were beautiful. And pink.

  I had a feeling they’d smell good too, so I leaned forward and grabbed one of the stalks in my hand. Then I leaned in so close that my nose brushed over the petals—and I inhaled.

  But all I could smell was the same musk from earlier.

  I let go of the flower and felt my thoughts begin to float.

  What had Beck said? The tea would open my mind to the magic waiting for me. All I had to do was let it in.

  I closed my eyes, waiting for something to happen.

  My insides continued to buzz with the effects of the tea. I concentrated on the warmth in my belly and the sense of floating in my mind. Whether this worked or not, I was relaxed at least. And that alone was probably worth drinking the stuff.

  I wondered what Peter would say when he found out Beck had basically given me drugs and then sent me out to wander the streets.

  Someone snorted.

  It took me a moment to realize the noise had come from me.

  Exhaling, I closed my eyes again, and this time focused harder. There was a ball of energy in my belly; a warm, tingling ball of energy that seemed to grow bigger when I actually stopped and noticed it.

  As I concentrated, the energy expanded up and out of me until it floated just outside me. I didn’t dare open my eyes to see if it was real; it was real now. Here. Like this.

  I watched from behind closed lids, transfixed by the movement and color of the energy before me. The next image formed—solid and narrow and tactile. A door, I realized. It looked so real—complete with the scent of pine—that I opened my eyes, to steady myself.

  Only, the door was still there.

  It was beautifully made with intricate designs carved into each of the panels that made up the whole. When I looked closer, I saw that the carvings weren’t vague designs but specific pictures. Or scenes.

  The first was a giant bird, her wings tucked neatly around her so that her feathers framed a near-human face. She was perched on a high cliff and looking down at whatever lay below. In the panel beside her was a large, round stone split in half and nearly consumed by flames on both sides. Above that, I saw a wolf, a horse, and a man with his back turned; all of them bent over a table full of open books. Beside them, a knob had formed on the door itself.

  My head told me to leave it alone—but the strange humming in my belly whispered at me: doors were made for opening, weren’t they?

  On instinct, I rose to my feet, wobbly and dizzy, and reached for the silver knob. It twisted easily in my hands, and the heavy door swung inward. I went with it, stumbling.

  Bright, blinding light engulfed me. When I tried to retreat, the door closed behind me with a click, sealing me in. Then it was just…gone.

  The room had no other exits. All I could do was try to understand what had brought me here.

  Receive it, I could practically hear Beck saying now. Stay open.

  Moving slowly against the glare, I took a step and then another until I reached the center of the space. The light was brighter here. I sank to the ground, too wobbly to stand any longer. A moment later, the light began to dim. Shadows gathered in the far corners of the room until I could see past the glare. But beyond the light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, there was nothing to see.

  The space was empty.

  And it was getting darker.

  I watched as the furthest corners grew darker first. Then the shadows grew longer as the light seemed to recede toward me. Faster now. My eyes followed the movement from the floor to my own body. I glanced down at my hands and arms and found them brightly lit and glowing.

  I stared down at my skin, confused.

  My body’s glow, which I still hadn’t turned on, always came from my chest and radiated out from there. This light inside me came from everywhere. Every inch of my skin was lit with it.

  I watched in awe as the glowing underneath my skin grew steadily brighter until the entire room was lit only from the glow coming out of me.

  I was the source.

  I closed my eyes, overwhelmed with the sensations.

  When I did, a collection of images slammed into me—a room with a glass ceiling and powder pink walls, a dark-haired woman looking down into a crib, a gathering of wolves howling at twin moons in a gray sky, chaos and screaming echoing across a blanket of black mist.

  Recognition shot through me, jolting me from pic
ture to picture and face to face. Memories flooded me, overflowing from their secretly stored compartments in my mind.

  I saw my home planet through my own eyes, yellow and orange and warm. I saw my parents. My mother, with her long raven hair braided down her back, and my father with his kind eyes and an easy smile. Their beauty overwhelmed me until my closed eyes stung with tears.

  My heart tore open as the loss hit me full force.

  Before I could get lost in my own grief, more images replaced them. Grassy green fields with a little girl chasing after a bronze-haired boy, both of them laughing under an orange sun. In the distance, clouds gathered. Slow at first and then faster. Too fast.

  The colors shifted, and I saw the Shadows coming from their pods in the sky and the attack that followed. Hot power had poured off my skin as I watched them arrive. Xander had been worried I’d burn out, but he hadn’t known then.

  My skin pricked at the memory of the way the skullbush had scratched and tore at my skin when Father had tucked me away inside them. He’d made me promise to wait there no matter what I heard. It was the last time I ever saw him.

  When the last picture flashed by, I felt the tears falling down my cheeks at the scared little girl and the fierce young boy who hugged their goodbye.

  Grief was like a second skin now, dimming the light soaking through my skin. It was slowly dying out, but I wasn’t worried. When the time was right, it would be there for me again. The magic was in me—it had been since the night my mother had called it.

  My mother’s last act to save her daughter had been fulfilled.

  I remembered.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The outside world was a swirl of gray. Inside, my heart churned with a hundred thoughts and feelings vying for attention at once. I blinked, trying to get my bearings, and saw that I was lying on my back in the middle of Beck’s garden. The white room was gone. So was the door. Above me, gray clouds still coated the sky. A breeze had kicked up, rustling the ends of my hair so that they tickled my cheeks.

  I sat up slowly, breathing steadily against the wave of nausea. It passed quickly, but I stayed put a moment longer just to be sure. Next time Beck offered me a drink, I’d think twice.

  Somewhere in the distance, a howl rose up. Then another.

  My pulse sped, and I twisted toward the sound. Eamon’s recon team was returning. Had I really only been out here for such a short time? It felt like so much longer.

  The howls came again, and I wondered if they were a signal. Maybe they’d found something. My heart thudded at the prospect of finding—and stopping—the Ngili. It mattered even more than it had before. Everything did. Especially—

  “Alina!”

  A familiar voice called out, and my stomach leapt into my throat. “Here,” I managed, impatient and excited and nervous all at once.

  A second later, Xander appeared around the hedge. His eyes went wide when he saw me on the ground, and he closed the distance between us, dropping quickly to my side. “Are you all right? Did you get hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” I assured him, swallowing back the goofy smile that wanted to slip out. I’d just seen him a couple of hours ago, but with so many memories flooding me… It felt like I was seeing him all over again for the first time. We’d lost five years and part of me wanted to make it all up right now, right here in this garden. I might have been tempted to if the aftereffects of the tea weren’t still making me wonder if I was actually having this conversation in the first place.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

  “I’m just trying to figure out what’s real,” I said. “Are you really here or am I still tripping?”

  “I’m here,” he assured me. Then his forehead creased, his brows drawing together. “Is this why you’re on the ground? You tripped?”

  I snickered. “Something like that.”

  “My mom told me what she did for you.” His blue eyes swam with concern as he studied me. “Did it work?”

  “It did.”

  He swallowed hard, waiting, I knew, for me to answer the real question between us.

  “I remember,” I told him softly.

  He started to smile, his eyes lighting up, but I could see him holding back as if reminding himself to be patient. “I’m glad to hear it. The council will be too.”

  I reached for him, leaning close as waves of emotion washed over me. Now that I had my memories, seeing him here was overwhelming me. I couldn’t believe we’d found each other again. “Xander, I—”

  Thunder cracked, booming through the cloud cover hard enough to shake the ground. The wind kicked up, whipping my hair into my face.

  “What the…?” I began.

  Another rumbling of thunder drowned out my words.

  Xander reached for me, and I let him pull me to my feet. I leaned into him while I got my balance, his hands bracing my shoulders to steady me. We both looked up. Overhead, the clouds swirled wildly.

  “The Ngili must be doing another spell,” I yelled over the deep rumbling.

  Xander nodded grimly. “The shield is being tested.”

  My eyes widened. “Where’s Peter?”

  Xander’s gaze locked on mine in understanding. “I left him at home to tell you… Eamon’s recon team tracked the Ngili back to town.”

  I stared back at Xander.

  If the Ngili was back in town and calling up another attack on our shield, it could only mean one thing: It had learned where to hit us to weaken—or even remove—the reinforcing Peter had done to stop it the first time.

  Thunder boomed again, and the earth beneath our feet shook harder. Someone screamed, and a howl rose up, then another. And another. Until my ears were full of nothing but eerie, echoing howls.

  I didn’t bother trying to yell over the sound as I darted around Xander and ran for home. Beck yelled something as I passed, but I kept going. Xander caught up easily, but rather than ask me to stop, he pushed onward, gaining ground until he was half a step ahead.

  I pushed harder, sprinting past faces that were much more familiar than they’d been before. My sense of self and of country were larger than they’d been before and every fiber of my being—the girl I’d once been and the woman I was now—was focused on Peter.

  We had to get there in time.

  While we ran, Xander yelled out to the wolves he saw, shouting orders in Zorovian that only partially translated over the wind in my ears.

  “We’ve tracked it right back to town,” one of them shouted back in response to what Xander had said. “Then we lost it again.”

  “Gather the rest of the team and meet us at Alina’s,” Xander told him.

  The wolf growled a response and then ran off, howling again.

  Just ahead, I spotted my house.

  The front door was wide open which only served to heighten my panic—and my determination. Xander entered first, and I followed him inside, not bothering to slow down as we passed through the open doorway.

  Xander stopped short at Peter’s bedroom door, and I barely managed to keep from running him over. “Empty,” Xander said, moving aside so I could see the rumpled covers tossed onto the floor.

  Peter would never leave his bed unmade.

  The sight of it confirmed what I’d already dreaded.

  “This way,” I said, doubling back into the main room.

  The only other option was the door that led to the backyard. It was hanging open a crack, and I raced to it, throwing it wide and hurrying outside. The first thing I saw was the circle of stones at the far end of the yard. Inside it, lay a body, unmoving.

  “Peter!” I scrambled toward him, nearly tripping on the stones that had been piled around him.

  Peter didn’t answer. He lay in the center, bound and gagged and bleeding from a wound I couldn’t identify. He didn’t stir at the sound of his name. Blood coated his shirt and arms, and I had to force myself to look away from it. To ignore the fact that he didn’t seem to be breathing. There was no
time to panic. I couldn’t afford a single mistake now.

  “Alina.” Xander’s tone was a warning.

  Before I could turn to identify what had made him call me back, he grabbed my arm and yanked me backward—out of the circle. A second later, a bolt of lightning struck the ground where I’d just been standing.

  Smoke rose from the newly charred dirt.

  An angry curse rose from behind us, and Xander and I whirled. When I saw the figure on the roof, I snarled and started forward. Xander’s hand closed around my elbow, pulling me back. I looked up at him, and our eyes met.

  Worry lined his expression. “You can’t win against all that magic,” he said.

  “You’re wrong,” I said quietly. “That magic is nothing compared to whatever’s inside me. I think that’s why it wants me so bad.”

  Xander stopped and stared at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “My memories weren’t the only thing my mother hid from me,” I said.

  “What else is there?”

  Before I could answer, another bolt flew past, narrowly missing both of our faces. We both jumped backward and turned to face the onslaught. When two more bolts flew at us, I dove behind a tree. Bark flew as a third bolt landed behind my head.

  I looked over at where Xander had taken cover behind a pile of dirt that had been removed to create the small garden in the back. A bolt landed in the dirt only inches from his head. When it was clear, he sat up and fired back with a bolt of his own. His was larger than the others and it crashed into the incoming fire, slicing clean through it until there was nothing left.

  The cloaked figure snarled in frustration.

  More bolts flew from the figure’s fingertips, and one of them grazed Xander’s shoulder. He grunted, but otherwise didn’t react except to fire his own volley right back. One of them nearly reached the Ngili before it was snuffed out mid-air.

  I stared in shock.

  How in the hell had it done that without a single weapon? I hadn’t even seen a sign of magic being used. It was like the air around it was a force field. A protective wall that no one else could see.