Page 130 of Fire to the Stars

Claire takes one of her own.

“Abby, look!” Lyle shouts.

Only my eyes move as I shift my attention to him. The gendarmes tense, weapons raised at the screaming prisoners they’ve bound with rope. All at once, the Immortals rip away their masks,then claw at their black-veined faces. Eyes sink into their skulls. Cheeks cave in. Knees buckle. Finally, they burst into clouds of dust. One by one, their cloaks flutter into the snow, as if they never held a body at all.

Relief breaks me—then the pain rushes in. Each breath shifts the bolt in my stomach and makes me shudder. Every inch of my body trembles and stings. I barely feel the lingering flames.

“Lucy,” I croak. Her name comes out garbled, but she knows what to do. She licks the embers from my clothes.

I’m no fool. I’m dying.

Knowing I saved the girl I love should satisfy me, but it doesn’t. Waking alone to the sight of a dead loved one is her greatest fear. And she will think she is responsible.

A rustle fills the quiet.

Lucygekkers excitedly at Noctu’s cell. With a blinding, pulsing glow, his ashes swirl and coalesce to reshape his previous form, this time unbound outside the cell’s remains. He approaches Claire with a blanket made of silverwolf pelts, as if he’s returned to the mortal realm just to gift it to her. It unfurls with a glimmer that disappears by the time the silver fur settles overher.

He places a hand on her head. “Thank you, Claire Belgard.”

Something about his gratitude feels unfair. Too small. It’s not enough. Not after everything Diu stole from Claire—andfrom me.

Maybe Noctuisangry with us.

He might leave me to die.

Somehow, I drag my left hand out from under me and draw a dagger.

The burns on my fingers flare, hot and raw. Good. If I can feel pain, I have enough of my mind left to fight. My arm dipsand bobs as I try to lift my weapon. To draw that precious water of life and maybe—maybe—heal myself.

Darkness invades the edges of my vision. My breath comes in pitiful gasps. Noctu glances at me, eyebrows raised, as if he didn’t think I would survive.

“Don’t move,” I sputter through gritted teeth. “Don’t leave.”

Noctu approaches me. I close one eye and aim the trembling dagger. My heart pounds from the effort. My lungs strain against me. I’m fading. I need eau de vie. Noctu kneels beside me and slips the dagger from my grip. The black of his starlight eyes reflects the burns on my face. I close my eyes as my vision blurs anew.

Sometimes, trying isn’t enough.

The wet sound of a blade slicing flesh crosses my ears. My eyes snap open. Noctu rolls me onto my back, removes my helmet, and tilts my chin up. The tang of blood touches my tongue. The sudden overflow forces me to swallow.

An ice-cold sensation floods my veins.

“I told you, Abel Estellio. I am not your enemy.” Noctu holds his bleeding wrist above my lips. “All you had to do was ask.”

You never know how much good a few kind words can do.

—Nicolas Belgard

Chapter Forty-Eight

Claire

Teeth chattering, I startle awake, pushing upright on hard ground. A blanket made of silverwolf pelts falls from my bare shoulders. Gooseflesh spreads across my skin as my surroundings sink in. Smoke. Ash. A cavern scorched. Silence. Horrible, voiceless silence beyond the crackle of trees on fire.

“Claire!” Marshal Payen calls from her place outside, standing in blood-streaked snow. “Is Abel safe?”

The sight of her alive and well makes me release a breath, but only just.Abel.I look around the cave—then gasp. Abel is flat on his back, blistered and broken, dragon-skull helmet cast aside. Lucy licks the embers from his charred hair, as if that will help him.

“Abel?” I whimper.