“What do you mean?” she asked, arms crossed.
“She be shipping Starshards, girl. Barrels of it. To the highest bidder.”
Her blood froze, fear creeping into her mind. People had tried manipulating the Stars, attempting to create their own bonds using the Starshards, remnants of the Shattering. Some people succeeded, creating synthetic partial bonds, weakened forms of the Constellation’s blessings. They called themselves the Shardborne. Others went too far, experimenting with multiple different star shards, which always ended in death or worse—unnatural bonds and unimaginable pain. This group of zealots were known as the Tredecim. If Delphi was in league with either group, Astraia wanted no part in it.
“Stars…” Astraia cursed under her breath. “You mean to tell me Delphi was smuggling Stars-forsakenStarshards?”
Val’s face was deadpan. “I told ye, it was better off ye not know.”
“Stars!” she shouted, throwing her hands up. She knew Delphi was likely smuggling illegal goods, but never this.
“We need to move. Now. Before they come back to finish us off as witnesses.” She kicked dirt onto the fire, smothering it.
“Ye really think they’d come back just to kill us?” Val lumbered toward her.
Astraia stopped and pivoted toward Val, facing him. “Look, Val, I like you. You’ve always been kind to me. But I know about bad people. And people who want Starshards are bad people. Now you can linger, and become collateral damage, or you can come back with me.”
And watch me deal with Delphi, she thought.
She had worked for five years to build the life she now had, albeit a pathetic existence on the surface, but she treasured it. She once believed the emptiness she harbored in her soul would engulf her, devouring her will to keep breathing. Working in the slums had healed a part of her. It gave her purpose. Tenebris was all she had left, and by the Stars, she would not lose it over some wretched black-market deal.
“I’ve been runnin’ these woods longer than most have drawn breath,” Val said quietly, not looking at her. “But I don’t like the feel of this one, girl. Feels like the Stars are holdin’ their breath.” He paused, looking at her with a smile. “I’ll go with ya. But only cause I’ve grown fond of ya.”
Astraia stared at the man, wide-eyed. He had been her companion on several shipments but had never spoken to her like this.
“Okay then.” She turned and started walking toward the road.
The air was too still. Not even the river’s waters rippled. Her bond thrummed in her bones, a silent drumbeat warning her to run.
That was when she heard it. The sound of branches snapping, leaves crunching, horses breathing, vibrating through the twisted and tortuous woods.
She swore under her breath.Stars, I hate being right.
From the shadows of the Starfell Woods, the forest awakened.
Figures moved—swift, spectral, emerging from the twisted trees with silent intent. Not just Thalen and Vastor. More than ten men emerged. Shadows cloaked in ash-gray and leather, faces hidden, blades gleaming like serpent’s teeth. They were only forty yards away and would be upon them in seconds.
Astraia didn’t hesitate. Her bow was in her hands. She took aim in a single breath, and the world slowed.
Sounds dulled around her, the thundering footsteps fading into a distant hum. Replacing the sounds of her surroundings was just her own breath, in and out in a slow rhythm. She could smell everything. The pine in the woods, the saltiness of the sweat coating her brow, the blooming wildflowers of the clearing, the lingering ash of the doused fire.
Her vision sharpened, narrowed, until her arrowhead gleamed like a star before her, and in a heartbeat, her eyesight expanded. Vastor’s face swam into focus, every detail crystal clear. The damp strands of hair clinging to his brow. She could see every freckle that dotted his nose, the crude smile that blossomed on his lips. Every stitch of his cloak, every scratch on his blade. He was moving, but through quicksand.
Astraia took another breath, and her eyesight cleared even more. The air around him shimmered, thick with floating pollen, golden in the dim light. She exhaled purposefully and released her arrow with deadly precision straight into Vastor’s chest.
Time snapped back.
Sound returned in a crash. The world lurched, senses reeling. The glow behind her eyes faded, her breath ragged now.
Vastor crumpled to the ground, clutching the arrow as blood oozed from his gaping mouth.
“Val,move!” she shouted, but her voice was swallowed by the crashing of hoofbeats, the snap of branches, the roar of betrayal.
Val reached for his sword—but it was too late.
Thalen roared at the sight of Vastor on the ground and spurred his horse into a full gallop, overtaking Val in seconds. A flash of steel, a grunt of effort, and Val staggered, blade sunk deep in his side.
“No!” Astraia’s scream tore through the clearing.
