With each brutal tithe on my magic, the akasha coursing through me feels different. My simurgh has been growing stronger and fiercer. There’s a primalwildnessto her that unsettles me. When I’d addressed my worry with Aran, he’d explained that in ancient times of the magi, ascending magic had to be anchored because of its potency, usually via the bonding of a soul-fated pair.
There’d been no information as far as he knew of such an anchor for the Starkeeper, but power like mine would only evolve if there was thepossibilityof a soul-fated union. It was baffling, to say the least. Because magic matching mine doesn’t exist, at least not in Oryndhr.
Roshan isn’t my soul-fated, that much I do know, since he possesses no magic, despite both of his parents being magi. Aran maintains that any inherited akasha might still be dormant, especially after my starlight had essentially resurrected Roshan from the brink of death.
Admittedly, I’d harbored an infinitesimal hope that he could be my not-yet-awakened soul-fated, but alas, my simurgh senses nothing but minute traces of me in his blood.
However, magic or not, I’d stillchosenhim.
My parents hadn’t been soul-fated, and they’d lived happily together for years.
Roshan’s father, the former king, had been soul-fated with Roshan’s mother: the only soul-fated pair in centuries. As far as Aran remembers, they had never performed the bonding ritual to anchor their magic—there’d been no time to do so before Nihira had been jealously murdered by her sister, Morvarid. Soul-fated pairs are so rare, they’re practically myth.
And if I had one anywhere in this realm, I’d know.
Mysimurghwould know.
There has to be a way to anchormyselfand to stabilize whatever this latest ascendancy is. I just have to figure it out before my magic becomes more feral and puts us all in danger. Perhaps Vena will be able to shed some light on the matter... if she ever actually shows her face again, that is. Apart from her cryptic premonition, the Royal Star has been frustratingly absent.
Quietly, I push the covers off and ease from the bed, grabbing the dagger in its sheath on the bedside table. My mother’s blade that I reforged with my own hands is a comfort more than a need. The polished golden head of the simurgh on the hilt is a reminder of where I came from as well as what I am, and a symbol of the magical entity that lives inside of me.
I feel her ripple in response, a gentle brush along my senses.
It took weeks of training with Aran before I felt even capable of summoning the simurgh’s incandescent presence—a majestic, winged spectacle that was everything the king needed me to be. And the moment I had manifested her as a demonstration of my magic in the Oryndhrian court, Roshan’s closest naysayers had gone quiet. A king with the powerful Starkeeper as his right hand was invincible.
It’s no wonder your keeper doesn’t let you out of his sight,an inner voice taunts.You’ve become the very thing you said you never wanted to be—weaponized.
I don’t know if it’s my conscience or my magic speaking. My simurgh has communicated with me before, but this doesn’t sound like her. No, it sounds like the lingering bitterness I’ve kept at bay since Coban. Exhaling harshly, I push the warning away and swallow the knot rising in my throat. I have to believe that Roshan will keep his promise that this isn’t forever.
On silent feet, I pad from the bedroom to the balcony beyond that overlooks the palace courtyard. It’s a moonless night, only the barest sliver of a curve visible. No stars wink through the clouds, though I know they’re there. I can feel them like part of the living tapestry of my soul. Once, Vena had offered me a chance to join them in immortal rest, but I’d chosen to return to the mortal world for Roshan... for a chance at love and a future together.
I’ve never regretted it, but lately, I find myself wondering if I made the right decision.
Shivering in the cool air, I wrap my arms around myself, peering up. It’s been months since Vena spoke through Amma. None of us had been able to discern what she’d truly meant.
I peer up into the sky. “Vena? Are you there? I could really use a friend.”
But there’s no answer.Again.
A sad sigh leaves me. I used to resent when she appeared on a whim in the guise of a crone with her esoteric advice on how to master my Starkeeper gifts, but now, I’d give anything to see a familiar face. Has she abandoned me? Have my actions and the abuse of my gifts sickened her? I would not be surprised: I’ve sickened myself. My eyes burn with unshed tears for what I’ve done in the name of the Starkeeper.
In the name of a man I love.
Is this how villains are born? With the best of intentions?
“Sura,” a drowsy, deep voice says as two thick arms band over mine and a heavy body crowds mine from behind. “What are you doing out here?”
Desperate for any comfort, I lean back into my king’s tall frame, breathing in his earthy iron-and-bergamot scent. Emotion swamps me. Stars, I’ve missed him. Missedthis. Being held by him for no reason at all. One would think sleeping in the same bed would mean something, but most nights, he collapses after hours spent arguing with his council on matters of the realm, or he’s gone for days to other cities to meet with the houses or the Dahaka.
“I was watching the stars,” I murmur.
Roshan nuzzles my neck, and I sigh at the unexpected caress. Court life leaves little room for affection, not in public anyway, and especially not when I’m now the king’s most prized weapon. Keeping up appearances as rulers to be feared is worth more than indulging ourselves in any stolen moments. “It’s cold out here. Come back to bed.”
Not wanting to give up whatever this tiny moment of connection is, I sketch the rune for fire in my mind, feeling my magic flare in response. Suddenly the crisp air around us heats to a balmy temperature. I’ve mastered most basic elemental runes working with Aran—fire, ice, air, and earth—but I’m still working on more complex magic, including wielding my own starlight.
“Better?” I ask Roshan.
“You’ve become adept,” he says with fond amusement.
