Page 50 of Blood of the Stars

A short laugh escaped her lips. “No.”

She turned back to lean over the water, frowning. “It seems the barriers have only served to make men more curious, more desperate.” Her words came out mumbled, like she was no longer aware of his presence. It felt like a dismissal, but he hadn’t learned anything about her magic or her true motives. If he’d been able to touch her, he could use his weaker second spoke to determine if she told the truth, but she’d already warned him against that. Besides, the last time he’d tried, she’d been a blank wall.

He reached out, tuning in to her memories for some hint, but it was still like none existed. He frowned, unsure how she was blocking his intrusion so completely. Usually when he met resistance, flashes of images still broke through.

“How did you know my name the night we met?”

She watched the water long enough that he thought he wouldn’t get an answer. When she finally spoke, her words came out slow and measured. “Everyone knows the Prince of Elanesse.”

He made a face at the title. Those who knew him well knew not to use it.

“But I started paying attention when I heard you wanted the book The Sins of the Stars.” Her eyes found his, burning into him with an intensity that made him feel exposed. When her gaze shifted to his coat pocket, he knew she’d seen him studying it between tasks, poring over it for any detail he might have missed.

He’d put out requests for that book several moons ago. Did that mean she’d been watching him that long? “Why?”

She sat precariously on the boat’s edge, a single rogue wave away from being thrown to the sea. Against his better judgment, he felt no fear for her safety. Somehow, Gaeren suspected she was immune to such a simple end.

“The handwritten notes inside are peculiar, right?” she asked.

He stilled, thinking of how he’d first found her camped out in his swamp hideout. It bothered him that she’d been following him so closely, even going through his things. But his need for answers overrode that. What did she make of the strange symbols marked with references to various people groups and locations? Were they places the starbridges were hidden? Places they were last seen? The people who’d been given charge of them? Those were the questions he wanted to ask, but they felt too vulnerable.

“How did you see them?”

She shook her head slightly. “I wrote them.”

His mouth swung open before he could stop himself, and he clamped it shut before any of his men could see. He glanced around, making sure none were within hearing range while closing the distance between him and Orra.

“Have you already found some of the objects?”

Her lids lowered, and she ducked her head. “They’ve slipped through my fingers over the years.”

His knees felt weak even as his heart rate picked up its pace. He crouched beside her. “Which ones? When? Where did you last see them?”

“When we reach the island, what will you do?” She turned his own question on him. “Will you use it”—she spat the word out—“if we find it?”

He hesitated, unsure which answer she wanted to hear. It was only fair that she wanted to know his motives just like he wanted to know hers, but one of them had to show their hand first. He didn’t want it to be him.

Besides, he didn’t know. He’d wanted to find the starbridges to find Daisy. Now that she was accessible without the starbridges, the drive to find them had weakened.

Orra studied him while the spray of the salt water misted against their arms. When he didn’t answer, she let out a stilted laugh. “Two types of men seek the starbridges. One who wishes to make the world bigger, to fill it with all sorts of wonder created by people far and wide. And one who wishes to make the world smaller, to fit it in the palm of his hand and hold it in his fist.” She closed her eyes, her lashes suspiciously wet. “Which one are you?”

The answer seemed obvious, but her vulnerability made him truly ask himself the question. Why did he want the starbridges?

His hand slipped to his dagger once more, the hard lines of the grip swirling to the pommel, where the ridges of the daisy gave him focus. This had all started as a way to find out what had happened to Daisy. A small part of him wondered if the starbridges could still be useful for protection. He didn’t know why Emeris had sent Daisy away. Maybe he’d need to use a starbridge to take her back to Lorvandas to continue protecting her.

Beyond that, the adventurous side of him relished the idea of exploration. Finding the starbridges could unite the people, not just in Vendaras but all of Rhystahn. He thought that would make the world bigger—breaking down the barriers and bringing people together again. It would be a far better way for him to spend his time as throne warden than sitting in a stuffy palace.

But what if the people across the barriers didn’t want unification? What if war broke out the same way it had before the barriers had been put in place? Whether he wanted to or not, it was possible he could eventually use the starbridges for control, to make the world the place he thought it should be even if others disagreed.

The idea left him nauseous, like Lenda’s seasickness had suddenly become contagious. Deep down, he knew Larkos was right. Gaeren had been raised to see progenies as better, more valuable than half-lights who couldn’t do magic. He tried to work with his men and see them as equals, but even his authority as captain made it impossible to truly see them that way. It made it impossible for them to see him as anything other than someone who controlled them.

Orra waited for an answer, but the time he spent working it out seemed to already be answer enough. She turned away, her face impassive.

“I want to be the first man, the one who makes the world bigger,” he said, letting the words hang in the air as an unfinished sentence. But I don’t know if I am, or but I’m probably the second were both viable endings. Did that mean he should give up the search? Was she saying he wasn’t noble enough to use the starbridges?

“Perhaps you will be.” Her lips twitched, like she had a secret.

She was a mystery and clearly wanted to remain one, but she didn’t feel like a danger—yet.

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