Page 135 of The Starlight Savior

Wherever her path now laid, she couldn’t sit with all this knowledge.

Her father’s final letter had revealed more than Saige could comprehend. It provided a whole new perspective on Brevil’s inner workings with the magical world. Not only was her father the village blacksmith, but he made enchanted weapons for the mortal king. So why had he been executed if he was such an asset? If King Brennus knew of his lineage?

And who was Lyla? Neither he nor Eva had uttered a single word of a younger sister. But if what her father’s letter detailed was true, Saige had similar power to her deceased aunt.

Someone clearly failed to mention that overpowering magic and burnout ran in the family.

Reaching for her mother’s cloak, she wrapped it tightly around her body. Its scent alone filled her with a sense of relief. She grabbed a leather rucksack from the wardrobe, filling it with whatever seemed necessary. The one book that highlighted ancient magic, vials of rejuvenating medicine, a bundle of herbs, a waterskin, bread, and dried meat for bouts of hunger. Even if she couldn’t leave Etrane, she could at least find somewhere safe. Maybe Priestess Domina could help her understand what to do next. It was she who had provided her the answers she needed when everyone was keen to keep her in the dark.

She left her quarters and didn’t look back. Her eyes snagged on Conor’s door, now closed.

You’re placing blame on things that aren’t mine to hold.

She knew there was truth in his words that echoed in her mind. In moments where fear overcame her, building a hot simmering feeling in her gut, it was difficult to place the feelings anywhere else. She couldn’t scream at King Vospella or General Zathos. They’d send her to the dungeon cells instantly. And truthfully, she was terrified of what else she might discover if she confronted her aunt.

Despite it all, Conor always felt safe.

But she’d seen that wolf helm before, during the last evening in Denholm, General Zathos holding the twin. Her mind and heart tugged her in different directions though. Her heart remembered the way Conor looked at her, kissed her, and feared for her. It felt so genuine. But her mind latched onto whatever truths she could discover. If that was Conor’s wolf helm, it meant he held her down. And lied to her about being there.

Saige shook her head, expelling Conor from her mind. Even if he didn’t lie, it was too late to take her demands for space back. All that mattered was escaping the castle. Once she was free, she’d figure out the next step.

Striding down the hallway, she faltered near her father’s quarters. It was still ajar, revealing the mess of letters scattered across the floor. She stepped across the barrier.

If she was to venture alone, she needed some sort of weapon. In the corner, Saige grasped a dust covered dagger. The hilt was shaped as a wolf.

The main floor was a flurry of madness when Saige descended down the grand staircase. Guards, handmaids, and magic-wielders scurried throughout. Every exit was guarded heavily, the wielders sporting thick armor and polished swords. Conor must’ve warned someone of her discovery. Maybe he sensed her necessity to leave. Or had King Vospella felt the hint of betrayal in the blood bond?

Back pressed against a pillar, she rested her hand on her chest. With a deep breath in, she urged her body to relax, but Saige was cornered. Her hand flew to the blood bond forged into her skin. There was no escape from Athalos, at least not before her eyes.

Quickening steps approached Saige from the left. Without much thought, she veered to the right, praying her cloak concealed her enough. The halls of the western wing greeted Saige as she descended a servant staircase. The castle’s western wing consisted of rooms designated for combat training, magic-wielding, and meetings. If there was another exit, Saige prayed it was somewhere near here.

She followed her feet as the floor descended to uneven, slick steps. No hidden doors revealed themselves as Saige approached the castle dungeons. Her steps quickened as she descended deeper and deeper into the belly of the castle.

A smile broke through her face as a familiar sight greeted her.

The portals’ mirrors awaited her, beckoning her forward. Of course, if Saige couldn’t exit out of the castle gates, she’d have to travel through magic instead.

The mirror stood waiting for her, unguarded. The floor below was stained from her previous travels, Saige and Conor’s blood soaked through the musty stones. She had no time to second guess herself as she stepped forward. Her movements were frantic as she swiped her palm with the dusty dagger.

Leave, echoed through her brain, over and over. The walls of the castle, once labeled as a sanctuary, were smothering her. She was not safe. Her father hadn’t wanted her here. The thought and blood bond felt like a hand around her neck, choking her.

The deep red flowed through the crevices of the forged silver, just as it had in the banker’s manor. Her foot tapped on the stone floor as she thought of safety. Warmth and kindness. Truth and knowledge. All she ever wanted was to feel safe. For a moment, Saige truly had felt safe here. But now…

Her magic came forward with a lurch as she finally let her anger and grief fully flow. The room lit up with spectacular light, as if the stars were right there. The ground shook below her as she funneled her magic to the mirror, even before her blood shined through the edges of the portal.

Leave, leave, leave.

This was not her home. She had no home, yet she wouldn’t make it here. Not against her father’s final wishes.

The mark on her arm burned even more. She ignored it, despite knowing in her gut what that meant. She was going against her promise. But if it killed her, it would be better than being trapped in the cage of deceit that the kingdom had forged.

As her blood consumed the edges of the mirror, it activated with an explosion of light. Get me to safety, she demanded her magic.

“Saige!” Conor’s voice filled the air, amplified by power.

One hand shifted from the portal to the open space behind.

Protect me, Saige thought. A wall of white flames shot up around her, warding the figures descending the stairs. They all stumbled to a stop. She could feel Conor’s own power push back, the air in the room shifting as he tried to smother the flames surrounding her. But she was stronger.