Page 67 of Blood of the Stars

The men all shook their heads, each on the edge of whatever barrel, bench, or space they could call a seat.

“The ancient cutlass she’d stolen from him on that first raid when they’d met.”

A few men clapped while the others laughed. Lenda had been right about Orra knowing details that weren’t included in the story sailors typically shared, but Gaeren wasn’t sure if that made it truer or just a better lie.

“Ancient cutlass?” Gaeren asked. “How old was this sword, and where is it now?”

Orra’s secretive smile returned, the glow in her eyes receding as she went from a lively narrator to her former mask of subdued wisdom. “Some say it was made by the Dehvlonians themselves.”

Breeve sucked in a breath, excited at the prospect. Before the Great Divide and the rise of the barriers, the Dehvlonians had separated themselves from the Vendarans by claiming lands far east. They valued intelligence over physical strength, whereas the Ahmranans, who had settled in the north, were strong but simpleminded. Each race was the product of half-lights attempting to breed what they believed was the best of the best.

Collectors around Vendaras claimed to have some of the rare Dehvlonian artifacts that had survived the Great Divide, but somehow the number of artifacts grew each year, making Gaeren suspect each one’s authenticity.

“Even their advanced metals would have corroded in that time,” Gaeren argued.

Orra wrapped her arms around her knees, tucking them up under her chin like a child. She toyed with the braid on her wrist. “True. Which is why I suspect it has different origins.” Her words felt heavy with meaning as they drifted over the heads of his men. Was she giving him a clue? “I suppose we’ll never know.”

She turned to Thallahan, requesting a song. Everyone else resumed their shouting and dancing, prepared for a long night that would turn into an even longer tomorrow at sea.

Gaeren still stared at Orra, ignoring Lenda’s tug on his shirt sleeve. Orra had said she wrote the notes in the front of the book The Sins of the Stars. He pulled it out from his coat pocket now, his gaze landing on the miniature weapon with the word “Falls.”

An ancient sword unaffected by corrosion. One with different origins. Perhaps celestial origins.

Lady Redwood’s cutlass was one of the starbridges.

This time when he glanced back at Orra, she gave him a knowing look and a nod.

CHAPTER 27

The morning after Aeliana’s initial test, Sylmar had her sit just outside the campfire, eyes closed, instructing her to focus on each individual in the group. The others packed their belongings, and Aeliana wished she could be helping them instead of trying to understand what Sylmar wanted her to do. Light rain splattered against her trousers, a welcome coolness in the muggy heat of the jungle.

She felt hatred pouring out of Kendalyhn, but that had more to do with the glares she’d seen before closing her eyes than any magical intuition. Cyrus and Velden bantered over the safety of eating raw bamboo, their voices too energetic for the Sun’s rise. Holm and Iris were closest, and Aeliana thought she might detect a heat from them that represented their energy levels, but what if it had more to do with the love she’d constantly felt between them? Jasperus was the farthest away, but she still felt his presence like the flare of fire. Although even that might have just been his loudness that she sensed more than any energy levels.

Sylmar had insisted that she see each person as a vessel requiring the extra energy she held, energy she could push into them to strengthen them for that day’s climb. But it remained trapped beneath her own skin.

“Throughout the day, I want you to practice reaching out.” Sylmar’s commanding tone pulled Aeliana from her thoughts.

She opened her eyes to find him frowning down at her, leaning on his staff.

“You may have to place a hand on their arm to heighten the connection. Focus on altering their energy levels. It’s the crudest form of magic, the hub of the Wheel. It’s the type of alteration we teach children waiting for their Awakening.”

Her cheeks burned, and she dropped her eyes.

“It’s not meant to be an insult.” Sylmar’s rough voice softened a hair. “Until we know your spoke, it will be difficult to teach you the finer methods of tuning, sifting, or adjusting. For now, it’s more of a large-scale alteration rather than a tweak. Even your efforts to assess the others’ energy levels will help use bits of your energy and take the edge off your growing pain. We’ll work on it more tonight whether you’re able to do it during today’s trek or not.”

He awkwardly patted her back before turning to check on everyone’s progress.

Aeliana sighed as Velden approached and held out fruits and cheese on a bamboo leaf.

“Cheer up,” he said. “His face always looks like that. And don’t take it personally—I never do.”

Throughout the day, Aeliana made minimal effort to alter the other travelers’ energy. Most of her efforts were attempted on Lukai, who entertained her with tales of cresting Mt. Vescano and made her mouth water when describing his mother’s banana-leaf pouch holding shrimp and rice. She enjoyed talking to Lukai, but Sylmar’s assignment put a damper on things.

Even if Aeliana had managed to succeed in transferring her energy, which she hadn’t, the effort of imposing it on other people felt invasive. Her mind played tricks on her, and at times she swore blood seeped from cuts on her palms before they healed themselves. It was a vision she’d received hundreds of times over the years, especially when her blood grew bloated with magic, but it was no less disturbing. By the Sun’s sleep, her feet dragged, less with the effort required by the walk and more with the weight of her blood having been replenished.

Later that night, Aeliana curled up on her bedroll, the familiar ache spreading through her body. It was like fire being pumped from her heart to every appendage, warning her that eventually the heat’s pressure would be too much.

“Are you all right?” Cyrus asked from his place beside her.

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