Page 11 of The Starlight Savior

Baron and Althea’s father, head bent, surrounded by so many glasses Saige couldn’t count them on two hands.

A large man with dark hair and a sharp face resting back in a wooden chair.

Saige didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. She was almost tempted to drink in the middle of the room and head straight back.

“Saige!” Althea shouted, “you made it! Over here!”

She turned to the familiar faces of her loved ones, sitting in a corner facing the musicians. Candles flickered in the middle of each table. Althea’s curly hair cascaded down her back, dark skin glistening. She was wearing her best dress, sky blue chiffon hugging her waist and arms. Her brother sat next to her, nursing a mug of ale. Baron was still in his uniform, a handful of new patches sewn on since last time they spoke. Every step Saige took towards them, she felt Hadeon’s stare. He sat next to Baron, arms crossed over his chest. Thankfully, he abandoned his uniform, sporting a white tunic and dark trousers. As he sat up straighter, Saige couldn’t help but notice the muscles that moved under the thin fabric.

“Gods.” Althea sighed once Saige approached. “Today was a shit show.”

Baron gave her a sidelong look, raising a single brow.

“What?” Althea said. “Your soldiers raided every home, and there were five executions just today. It’s not part of my job to burn bodies, and yet it took me till nightfall to scrub the scent of burning flesh off.” She shivered in her chair, making a gagging noise.

“Executions?” Saige said a little too loudly, taking the empty seat next to Hadeon.

Hadeon nodded. “One witch, one warlock, and three villagers who were spotted with plans to immigrate to Nasala. We brought them back here. Hung em’ and burned their corpses. Their fault if they can’t return to Caelum.”

“Don’t know how far they would’ve gotten.” Baron huffed. “Nasala is no man’s land. There isn’t a village or inn for days. Would’ve ended up in the Otherworld anyways.”

“They say some of the best healers come from Nasala.” Althea took a sip from her mug.

“How did they find them?” Saige remarked slowly, ignoring the way her voice slurred. Had she eaten today? Her head was heavier than normal, skin tingling below her cloak. She did ask for the strongest Klara had though.

Hadeon lifted his arms, stretching them into the air before settling one on the back of Saige’s chair. It took all her effort not to lean into him. “Same as we always do, neighbors or soldiers report any suspicions. With that water-wielding bitch, Anya, trying to siege land, our borders are monitored at all hours. They’ve begun to recruit younger than fifteen to keep up with the demand.”

Saige’s body tightened, grateful for the liquor in her system. Soldiers younger than fifteen? Neighbors reporting one another? Her typical fear was a dull ache in her gut. Brevil was morphing before her.

“I guess there have been some reports of magic wielding. Basic things. Growing plants, healing wounds. It may be harmless, but it isn’t Terrus’s way. Besides, the glow of their veins gives it away. And the stench lingers.” Baron’s dark eyes were glassy as he spoke.

“What does it smell like?” Althea inquired, hands resting on her chin.

“Depends on the magic.” Hadeon shrugged. “Sometimes it smells of salt or whiffs of fresh herbs. But it’s strong. Stronger than anything natural.”

Or burnt wood. Anytime Saige had an outburst, the air would be tinged with the smell of burning timber. As if she were scorching the earth below.

Althea arched her brow. “You know a lot about that.”

“We’ve dealt with a lot of wielders,” Baron said, avoiding his sister’s gaze. “Hadeon especially.”

Saige shifted in her seat, her hand absently reaching for her throat. Killed a lot of magic wielders was what they meant. She wasn’t sure if that made him any different than the general. Her stomach clenched just thinking about it.

“So,” Althea said, voice rising, her gaze burning into Saige. “How has big ol’ Moore Manor been? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“You saw me yesterday!” Saige tried to smile, but her chin quivered.

“Under terrible circumstances,” Althea mumbled with a scowl, shaking her head.

“You know,” Baron said. The table creaked as he leaned on his elbows. “I heard the manor is haunted. Ghosts hiding in every crevice and corner. It’s why the Moores moved to Yethor, but they didn’t want to get rid of their property.”

Hadeon snorted. “That’s rubbish. There is no such thing as ghosts.”

“Gods, I forgot how dull your brain is. You were probably so boring as a child,” Baron laughed, a rare smile dancing on his lips.

“I am what they call practical,” Hadeon said slowly. “Sorry I don’t confine myself to some magical world where one revolves around wielders and ghosts and mythical creatures.”

“But doesn’t the world technically revolve around magic?” Althea pointed a thin finger towards Hadeon. “I mean, the world was created with the intention of magic. They say it’s what keeps everything functioning. Without it, we’d all be dead. Like the mist.”