Page 64 of The Starlight Savior

Her mother and father retreated as the sound of hooves echoed outside the cottage. The door was left astray, sending Saige in a panic. If she was to be safe from whatever danger approached, shouldn’t the door be closed? Wriggling her body on the ground, she found she couldn’t move. As if something tugged on the cloak, keeping her in place. Not even her hand could outstretch past the barrier of the bed’s frame.

What happened next was too quick for her to understand. From across the house, an orchestra of knocks came from the front door. But no one answered. Her mother and father stood with their backs to her. Blades twinkled in their hands. She had never seen either of them wield heavy swords or twin daggers. Her hand rested on her throat, feeling a tightening emerge across her. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She needed to join them. Help them. But from what?

Crack. A double edged axe split down the front door. A flurry of soldiers raced into their home, weapons wielded and eyes burning. One man stepped forward, tall and lanky. A sword identical to her father’s rested in his hand.

“Stop!” the man shouted in a booming voice, causing the girl to flinch. “You are being tried for the usage of magic!”

Magic? Such a thing wasn’t allowed in Brevil.

“There is no magic in this household,” her father said, his words warming Saige’s heart. It was a misunderstanding, of course. Her father would be able to explain, and this would all be over. She’d be able to come out soon.

More soldiers piled into the room, but the man just scoffed and spat on the ground. “You cannot deny treason, you demented wielder! We felt the ground shake; we saw the light through your windows. Someone in this home used magic. That is executable on sight.” The soldier stepped forward. “Now we can do this the easy or hard way.”

Her father didn’t falter, but she could see her mother’s shaking hands as she held on tightly to the crafted daggers. “There is no magic in this household. Now get off my property.”

For a moment, the soldier paused. Head cocking to the side, he remained locked on her father’s gaze. He repeated the words again and again.

“No magic in this household. Get off my property.”

She didn’t understand what he was doing. Wasn’t he supposed to explain they bore no magic? Show their certification? Prove they were born in Brevil? But her father didn’t move. And no matter how hard she tried to push herself from under the bed, neither could Saige.

The soldier’s head flung back, eyes wide. “Are you trying to enchant me, warlock?” he spat. “Seize them!”

The soldiers flung forward, taking her parents’ arms. Her father swung his sword, slashing the tip across the face of a young soldier. Something purple danced on the blade, but Saige’s mind couldn’t quite possibly piece together what she was seeing. A dagger flew from her mother’s hand, landing in the thigh of another. But there were too many soldiers. Soon their blades were taken, and no amount of kicking or punching could get them out of death’s grip.

Saige was paralyzed under the bed, forced to watch. Her heart hammered in her chest, breaths becoming labored. She tried to scream, but her throat was stuck. She called for her mother and father, but they were worlds away.

She couldn’t pull her gaze away as the man raised his sword. She watched as the soldier leveled it halfway, dragging it across her parents’ necks. They didn’t scream nor falter. Blood burst from their wounds as their bodies tumbled to the ground.

“Finish them,” the soldier demanded. “Make sure they can’t heal.”

Another soldier stepped forward with an ax, hacking away the tendons and bones that pieced together her parents. Until finally, they were beheaded, executed for an accusation that made no sense.

Her home, her peace, began to blur. Mouth rested open, she tried to scream, but still couldn’t. Her fists beat against the floor as she couldn’t look away no matter how hard she tried. Her mother and father’s dead eyes bored into her, where moments ago they were so full of life. Of love. Those eyes would never leave; they would haunt her—

“Saige!”

Her body jerked up and down, large hands gripping her shoulders. Her eyes flew open to see a curtain of dark hair mingling with her own, an urgent voice shouting in her ear.

“W-What?” Saige sat up, pushing the figure off her. A deep grunt echoed from the floor.

“Saige,” Conor coughed from below.

“What are you doing here?” She gaped. Wrapping her arms around her body, she hid the thin sleeping gown. One hand wiped at the trail of tears, flattening the mess of curls that always tangled deeper in sleep.

Shaking his head, Conor pushed himself onto his feet and brushed his hands on his pants. Saige’s eyes trailed up, snagging on his smooth skin and hard muscle. His hair stood up in all directions, tousled from sleep.

“My room is across from yours,” Conor said, speaking as if it was the most obvious thing in Opela. He sat on the bed, dipping his chin until their eyes locked. “You were screaming in your sleep.”

Saige’s hand instinctively flew to her throat. It had been a week since she controlled the magic in the meadow. Since then, the floodgates of her mind opened. The same nightmare haunted her each night, replaying like a lost memory. The bright light, pain in her body, her father’s frantic orders, and the beheading. Who knew that metaphorical walls truly existed. Not only had they held her magic back, but also the majority of her loss.

With a sigh, Saige rose from the bed. Walking over to her wardrobe, she felt Conor’s eyes roaming over her thin nightgown, and heat flushed her skin. Reaching for her mother’s cloak, she wrapped it tightly over her shoulders. The fabric was soft against her goose bumped skin, sending a flash of her mother wrapping it around herself.

It will keep you safe.

Saige flinched, her mother’s voice so fresh in her head. “I’ve been having more nightmares,” she admitted. Moving books from the chairs, she fell into the soft leather. Beside her, the remainder of the sleep tonic Kira brewed sat on the table. She was disappointed to find it cold.

She hadn’t noticed Conor joined beside her until he spoke. “When did they increase?” Purple lightning shot from his finger, into the air, and landed on the mug. Instantly, the liquid steamed in her hands. She hid a smile as she took a sip.