Page 3 of Born of Starlight
Eerie, otherworldly—while it sounded far away, I felt breath on the back of my neck. The winds seemed to change direction before the night sky returned to its usual twinkle and relative stillness. My heart pounded in my chest, and Van returned to my side once more, tilting his head.
“I don’t know either. But it can’t be good.”
Chapter2
Asterie
Iwas late—Firose hated it when we were late.
My hurried steps down my spiral stairway felt heavy against the wrought iron stairs. I’d overslept—it had been hard to pull myself awake. I hadn’t been sleeping well and was gluttonous for any small reprieve. Nightmares wracked nearly every sleeping hour, and no amount of valerian root was helping.
The Sisterhood met each week; we gathered just after sunrise.Fartoo early for my liking. Not that I’deverloved mornings. I preferred to sleep during the daylight hours, and when the stars were swept out of the skies, my body longed for dusk.
I shuffled across the foyer of my tower, not stopping in my kitchen for a tart or tea as I normally would. While the other towers had compartmented rooms, I preferred open space. The foyer connected to the sitting and dining rooms—the only separate rooms were the kitchen and a large greenhouse that I tended to daily.
The Egress was built into the lower balcony of my tower, just off the main foyer. I pushed open the door to step outside, and a bird’s-eye view of the sparse woodlands of the Central Corridor was laid out before me. There was no time to admire the view.
As I stepped into the Egress, I cringed against the sun. Taking refuge against the abrasive rays inside the carved space in the stone wall of the balcony, my hand still shielded my eyes.
“North Tower.” The words came out as more of a groan than a command. The Egress pulled me away in a dizzying gust of darkness that felt like both falling asleep and waking up.
Within seconds, my body was thrust into Firose’s entryway, halfway across the realm. Incredible magic—Egresses. The only ones remaining for transportation from Corridor to Corridor after the Great Wars were those in our five towers. The others, I was told, had long ago been covered or destroyed.
I hurried into the hallway, nearly tripping over one of the many Lynx that lazed about cleaning themselves.Nasty creatures. Skirting around their feline bodies and snoring rat noses, I made my way toward voices bickering in the sitting room.
Everything in the North Tower was gilded, fit for royalty, fit for Firose. The hall was arched intricately with the finest marble, and nearly a dozen glistening gold mirrors lined the sides. During childhood, I’d told Amara that I imagined Firose stopping at each one to admire herself. Amara laughed but quickly scolded me to respect our Sister.
I caught a glimpse of myself in one of those mirrors. My robes were ruffled and unpressed, which was to be expected of garments you accidentally fell asleep in. If you could call tossing and turning sleep. This was no acceptable way to look during a Sisterhood meeting.
Turning the corner into the sitting room, I nearly ran headfirst into a kettle as it floated across the room to pour coffee into their cups.Some Oracle I was—couldn’t even see a kettle coming.
My Sisters sat upright and quieted as I entered.
Wyeth of the West.
Cassidee of the East.
Firose of the North.
Amara of the South.
All four of them assessed me with raised brows and piqued curiosity.Great.I was the only one late. My cheeks heated.
I looked at Amara first. Finding warmth in her attention settled my stomach. But Firose’s words cut through the air.
“Asterie—preciselywho we have been waiting for.” Firose’s tone was always sweet in a sickly way.
Firose looked like a golden goddess—blonde hair plaited into a crown, blue eyes shining. She was the second eldest of us, only younger than Amara. Age did not rank us—though if it did, I was the youngest with my two centuries.
Though none of us outranked the others, within the tower walls, Firose dictated when we would have meetings, she decided when they started and ended, and she motioned nearly every vote. She held us together and kept us focused. I aspired to meet her expectations, always. And in that moment, my stomach sank to realize I hadn’t.
Firose had taught me everything I knew. I had her to thank for my lavish life in those towers.
I nodded, taking my seat across from Amara and giving her a knowing look.
“I apologize for my tardiness. The time slipped away from me.”
“Hmph.” It was the only response Firose gave as she smoothed her robe. Below the robe, she wore a gaudy mauve monstrosity that one might call a gown. We were the perfect contrast—she with her floral hues and me in all black. Dark robes, dark tunic, gray breeches.“Has someone died?”Amara would often joke.
