Page 29 of Blood of the Stars

Cyrus laughed uncomfortably, but Aeliana wasn’t amused or offended. The words touched on the truth of her experience too much for her to feel anything other than understood.

“It builds,” she agreed. “Like a boil needing to burst.”

Velden made a noise of disgust. “That’s even worse.”

“But apt.” A smile was evident in Sylmar’s voice, like a teacher pleased by his student’s success.

“Can my blood be neutralized?” Aeliana asked.

“You can learn to control its energy,” Velden said.

Aeliana shook her head. “No. I mean, remove it.”

Sylmar paused, half turning to study her face. He cleared his throat. “If you learn to control it, there will be no need to remove it. But our priority will be weaning you from the blood magic.” He faced forward again, picking up his lumbering pace among the thinning foliage.

She didn’t quite agree, but less supply and demand of magic was a step in the right direction.

“What about Arvid and Vera?” Cyrus asked. “Why didn’t they just use their own blood?”

“They did,” Aeliana said. “I mean, when I was younger. Around thirteen, they tested mine and never went back. I used to think they didn’t want to cut themselves, but now I’m guessing theirs isn’t as strong.”

“Exactly,” Sylmar said. “They have so little starblood they probably never even had the basic skills in the hub of the Wheel of Magic.”

“What’s the Wheel of Magic?” Cyrus asked, his voice breathy.

“Now you’ve done it,” Velden muttered.

Aeliana glanced back, tripping over a root jutting out of the rich soil. Cyrus’ eyes glinted in the moonlight. She thought she’d sentenced him to this foreign existence after watching his grandmother murdered, but he almost sounded eager to be here. She supposed it was like the books in the Stargazer’s library coming to life for him.

“If the source of our magic is the energy in our blood, the Wheel of Magic is the product.” Sylmar’s voice gained volume, the gravelly quality thicker and more obvious. “The simplest magic only requires that energy—the movement of small objects, the infusion of that energy into muscle. It enhances what our bodies and the things around us already do on a daily basis by speeding it up or making it more. That type of adjustment is the hub of the Wheel, and most half-lights who have enough starblood can make those adjustments during their puberty years.”

Waves crashed against a rocky beach they’d almost reached, the sound overriding everything else. The surrounding bamboo had been replaced by ferns, which were thinning as the soil grew rockier. Light finally filtered through the clouds as the moon’s descent shifted to the Sun’s morn. There wasn’t a boat in sight.

Despite everything, there was something about the sea that calmed Aeliana, something about the salty scent that put her at ease.

“And then they’re trained to control it?” she asked. If that was the case, she was several years behind.

“Not quite.” Sylmar paused to lean heavily on his staff. “If they don’t earn a starlock, they outgrow their skills. Only the progenies go on to train. So even though you have magic, you won’t be a progeny until you earn your starlock.”

“What’s a starlock?” Cyrus asked.

“It’s a lock of hair sent down by the Stars.” Sylmar reached under his tunic, pulling out a metal staff hung from a leather cord, an oddly detailed miniature of the weapon he carried. “They’re encased in metal, each a unique shape. They enhance a half-light’s magic, guiding and controlling it along one of the three spokes on the Wheel of Magic—pneumatic, somatic, and noetic. But starlocks are becoming more and more rare. It’s not even one in ten anymore.”

“They’re earned during an Awakening,” Velden added. “Usually some life-threatening experience that’s never spoken of.”

“Unless you’re Velden,” Sylmar muttered.

Velden turned and winked at Aeliana. “I fought off a giant squid that had just smashed an entire ship in half. How could I not talk about it?”

For a moment, both she and Cyrus chuckled, but when their eyes met, his smile dropped, his face taking on the heaviness of grief.

Sylmar cleared his throat. “Awakenings are both feared and desired. Not everyone survives, but if you walk away with a starlock, you are chosen—a progeny—handpicked by the Sun to tap deeper into the Wheel of Magic.”

Aeliana shivered. It sounded like the exact opposite of what she was asking them to teach her.

“The Sun?” Cyrus asked. “You mean the Stars?”

“The Stars are created beings just like us,” Sylmar said. “They serve the Sun and do its bidding, same as we do.”

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