Page 5 of Blood of the Stars

Gaeren supposed fifty years of bonding was a big deal, but he and Lenda had been bonded for twenty years already, since he was a toddler, and he didn’t think that was anything worth celebrating.

Gaeren raised a hand, waving it like a ridiculous child over the heads of the people. Several around him covered their mouths and whispered, but along with the gossip, his efforts had the desired effect: Enla’s gaze flicked to his.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Lenda tried again. “I love how it brings out the highlights in her braids.”

Gaeren scanned his sister’s dress once more, then hummed his agreement with Lenda as Enla’s eyes narrowed in his direction. Enla was a pneumatic progeny, gifted with the ability to sift through a soul’s future, but as his sister, she also had the uncanny ability to read his every emotion. He forced a grin and blew her a kiss, stepping closer to Lenda.

Enla hesitated, clearly warring between approval of his presence with Lenda and irritation with his antics. Eventually, she nodded, and her gaze moved on.

Now that she’d seen him in attendance, his duty had been fulfilled.

Gaeren slipped his arm out from Lenda’s grip, placing his hand on the small of her back. He bent close to her ear. “Why don’t I go get you a drink?”

She preened under his attention.

The bond mark on his palm twinged at the lie, but as usual, it never manifested into actual guilt. He hadn’t chosen this bond any more than he’d chosen to be born into the royal family, and yet he’d been saddled with the titles of bondmate and prince. He slipped through the crowds of people all eager to get a glimpse of the king and queen, who had made fewer public appearances over the last several moons.

No one cared about the wayward prince who spent more time at sea than in the palace, which made it that much easier for him to escape.

Instead of making his way out the back to the gardens, where all the guards would see him, he snuck through a servants’ door, stopping to wrap up half a dozen rolls and pastries in a napkin. He wound through the narrow corridors until he reached a wider public hall far from the festivities, where he climbed the stone stairs to his chambers.

With everyone down in the main hall, it was eerily quiet, and Gaeren was tempted to stop and breathe in the silence. But he was already late. He slipped through his rooms, tossing his pompous overcoat and hat on the bed and shaking his hair loose around his ears.

He opened the door to his balcony just enough to slide through with his stash of food. The moon was blocked by clouds, so he slipped his legs over the railing and found the lattice by memory. When his boots hit the dirt, he raced past the statue of the first Queen of Elanesse in the gardens, giving her his customary mocking bow. Then he slipped through a gap in a hedge, which he’d made several years before. The stables loomed before Gaeren, but instead of skirting them, he ran to the barn door, where he knocked three times, paused, then knocked again.

Furtive whispers came from the other side, making him grin. The door slipped open just enough for him to shove the napkin full of food through for the stableboys on the other side.

One green eye showed through the slit. “Thank you, Master Gaeren.”

“That’s Captain Elanesse to you, Erech,” he said. “Won’t be long before I expect you on Starspeed as my cabin boy.”

“Yes, sir—I mean, Captain Elanesse.” The boy choked on a laugh as he slid the door shut once more.

When Enla had found out he brought the stableboys extra food, she’d increased their wages. Then the boys said that meant they could send more money to their families, so he kept bringing the food. Next time he got caught, she’d probably make him start a donation program instead. It wasn’t a bad idea for the future, when he was stuck in Elanesse all the time.

Beyond the stables, Gaeren was mostly free, but still, he had to be cautious. It wouldn’t do for a couple’s evening stroll to reveal the prince sneaking out for black market trade.

He slipped across a creek and deeper into the woods, taking random turns so as not to form a trail. Slipping his dagger from his belt, he entered the wetlands, wrinkling his nose at the rotten swamp stench. With the mangroves’ canopy and the dark night, it was nearly impossible to see. He cocked his head as he drew energy from his blood to tune in to his surroundings. Just because there weren’t usually people around didn’t mean there wouldn’t be hippos or crocodiles. As a noetic progeny, he could tune in to the mind, or more specifically, the memories of a mind, even one that had come and gone, leaving traces of their recent memories behind.

The heat of his silver tear-shaped starlock warmed against the skin beneath his shirt, where it hung from a leather cord. Reassuringly close to his heart. Like all progenies, he’d earned the small charm that housed a lock of a Star’s hair during his Awakening, and now it heightened the power already flowing in his blood.

Small pinpricks of memories stood out between mangroves as if discordant notes settled into harmony in the spaces recently inhabited by creatures. One in particular was brighter and hotter than the rest—the memories not just remnants left behind, but memories from an active mind.

As he’d hoped, there was one man out here, if that was what Riveran could still be called.

Gaeren let out a low whistle. When Riveran returned his signal, Gaeren couldn’t help grinning as he picked up his pace, heedless of the water soaking through his boots and pants. He didn’t trust the traitor any more than the hippos he sensed grazing a hundred yards to the west, but if Riveran was here, that meant he’d found what Gaeren needed.

“I didn’t think it’d really be you.” Riveran’s timbre brought a rush of memories flooding through Gaeren’s mind.

Gaeren paused, shin-deep in water reeking of sulfur, and closed his eyes, involuntarily filtering through his memories of the other man. Swimming in the lake as boys, hunting baby winex together, giving and receiving bloody noses in their first childhood fight. The nostalgia was ten times stronger than when his progeny mentors made him tune in to someone else’s memories, because these memories came mixed with pain. His nose even twinged where it was still bent from being broken.

At one time, he and Riveran had been meant to become brothers.

The bright spots in his childhood shifted to later memories, marred by the truth of Riveran’s betrayal. Enla’s tears, the burn on her palm, the desire for revenge. It had only been two years since they’d severed ties. And yet it felt like ages.

“I figured you wouldn’t show up for anyone else.” Gaeren stepped out of the shadows so the little light from the moon could reveal his minimal weaponry. He lowered his dagger to a semi-dry stump, then raised his empty palms.

Riveran eased out from behind a mangrove, weaving between the tangled roots like a dance. Even though his head was nearly shaved, Riveran’s dark beard reached the middle of his chest. Gullet, his ever-present hawk, rested on the leather trim of his shoulder. The bird’s beady eyes watched Gaeren with even more distrust than Riveran.

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