In this moment, I do trust him. I trust him with my life.
He squeezes my hand, cool fingers laced tight about my own, holding my gaze. It’s a speaking look, but explanations will have to wait. With a weighted sigh, he releases me and darts off, melting into the shadows. I wait, back pressed to the alcove, ears pricked.
Long minutes later, heavy boots tramp in the distance. I edge forwards, careful to remain hidden, craning my neck till I spy moonslight glinting off a starburst mace. I flatten against the wall, breathing hard. A city guard.
I’m unarmed, but I have the Celestial Chain. My palms itch to unleash starshine again, to test my theories about the relic. But something holds me back. The memory of the exhaustion that gripped me after I summoned it at Thawtide, the splitting pain, the icy spasm in my chest, the ash brimming my mouth when I unleashed it against the hoarclaw.
Orthriel warned me not to summon starshine if I felt any ill effects. All magic has its price, and I don’t yet know the toll for wielding this.
But as the footsteps draw closer, something inside me snaps. I’ve been weak long enough. I breathe in and reach for the light.
I focus on the image of Star-Aether travelling down my arms, its energy trickling into my hands. My arms tingle and my palms start to glow. It’s working.
The footsteps are almost upon me. I lift my flaring hands to my chest, palms outwards. Gulping down air, I step from the shadows, throwing that energy in front of me. A dazzling arc of light, brighter than anything I’ve previously summoned, less wavering too. Mesmerising. Beautiful.
A yell reverberates. My heart cracks – I know that cry.
Sister’s mercy, what have I done?
Monster. Monster. Monster.
Blayze tumbles backwards, starshine striking the dead centre of his chest. He falls to the ground. The milky arc of light shimmers as it engulfs him, then flickers orange. Like he’s garlanded by a halo of flame.
And then the light snuffs out.
My hands fall to my sides, fingers humming from the force that’s just burst from them. Exhaustion rips through me, my muscles spent and shaking. The taste of ash unmistakable as coldness pierces my chest.
‘Blayze!’ I run towards him, pain splintering my skull, and kneel on the snowy ground. His eyes are closed. He’s motionless, pale. I trace his jaw, searching for signs of life. Placing my ear to his chest, I lean into the vestigial warmth of him, inhaling a lungful of amber and musk that makes my head spin. I can’t find a pulse.
A sob tears up my throat as I cradle him close. Tears well. Burying my head in Blayze’s chest, I don’t try and stop them. Rocking on my heels, I sink against him and weep. Wishing I could take this back.
But then something skitters beneath his ribs. His chest lifts.
He’s breathing. I raise my head. His leg’s twitching.
Without thinking, I crush him to me again. ‘You’re alive!’
His arms tighten around my back. ‘No thanks to you, Sparkles.’ The low burn of his voice is rougher than usual, muffled against my cloak. The familiar timbre brings me back to myself with a start. I draw back, straightening my furs as I scrabble to my feet.
Blayze props himself on his elbows and attempts a lopsided grin. But the smile’s too tight, doesn’t reach his eyes. And he’s shivering. ‘Nice breeches by the way.’ His gaze roams my legs, making my stomach squirm.
Insufferable. Even in a moment like this. ‘I-I thought you were a guard,’ I say, dashing my tears away.
‘First you try to bludgeon me, now you almost blast me into the Void. Anyone would think it’s something personal.’ He runs a hand through his hair, smoothing it. ‘Remind me not to get on the wrong side of you again. A rat’s only got so many lives.’
Despite his armour of ready jokes, his attempts at deflection, Blayze is shaken. More than shaken – he looks awful, all cheekbones and razor-sharp jawline, like he hasn’t eaten properly in moons. His skin is dull and sallow, like when he first arrived in Meissa. Dark, sunken circles shadow his eyes. Eyes so heavy and haunted, I almost don’t recognise them.
Guilt knots my stomach as I stand and search his body for injury – burns or blisters. ‘The flames. I’ve never seen starshine do that before. I-I don’t know what happened. Are you hurt?’
A flicker of something passes over Blayze’s face. Fear? He looks away. ‘I’m fine.’
Still disgusted by my magic, then. And with good reason.
‘We have to go. The others are waiting at the gate.’
‘So, everyone’s all right?’ I make the sign of the Star.
His jaw tightens as he pulls himself to his feet, but he doesn’t answer my question.
