Page 97 of Fallen Stars

In a bid of total violence and the use of black magick, Princess Elara of Asteria murdered Star Gem, patron Star of Castor, in a brutal and unprovoked attack. They are hereby traitors to the Stars. Harbouring these criminals will result in immediate death.

Elara scanned down the rest of the poster, seeing the reward printed at the bottom.

“A million midans for their capture—alive,” Enzo breathed.

Elara looked up, face stricken. “They’re calling me the Star Killer.”

Isra cocked her head. “Has a ring to it.”

“Why now?” Leo asked. “Elara killed Gem over a month ago.”

Isra paced. “They likely were trying to keep that information as private as possible. A ‘mortal’ who killed a Star? The gods are meant to be invincible.”

“It was your awakening,” Elara said quietly to Enzo. “They probably would have let it lie or were hoping I’d die trying to save you. Now we are both alive and awake—two titans with powers that combined can wipe out the Stars… No wonder they’re blaring the news to the world.”

Leo nodded gravely.

“What’s that sound?” Elara whispered, finally noticing the din that seemed to be coming from within the palace. Leo cursed, ear pressed to the door.

“We need to leavenow,” he said.

“The papers are stuck to every building. All over Helios. I imagine across the whole of Celestia.” Isra replied. “There is a bounty on your heads. And every civilian here is being made known of it. The Stars have declared you a traitor—a public enemy. And now they are beginning their hunt.”

Part Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

“If the ocean’s my mistress, and rum’s my vice, I’ll fall in love with a siren, now wouldn’t that be nice?”

The lone voice wavered across the deck, off key and slurring, the rush of black waves and shouts from Midas’s Bay keeping the voice company.

Adrian’s boots slapped against the wet boards as he made his way to the helm ofThe Starred Siren. He gazed up to the heavenly body now piercing the night, its silver glow bouncing off dark ripples in the ocean. With a shiver, he raised three fingers, a sign to ward off evil.

When the moon had first risen—as he had since learned it was called—a month ago, the whole kingdom of Neptuna had descended into chaos. As the one country surrounded and submerged in water, the moment that silver orb had tugged the tides to it, utter bedlam had ensued. Tidal waves wrecked entire towns, every tider in the kingdom working day and night to control and quell the unruly ocean, Adrian included, until finally, after three days, it had settled. He could feel it in his bones, a pull to it, one he did not appreciate.

He suspected it was the water magick within him since this mysterious orb that no astronomer could conjure an explanation for, now apparently controlled the tides—tides that had been doing just fine without it previously.

The ocean was within Adrian’s veins. That was what he told people when they asked him to explain his magick. He could feel every buffet and current beneath the wave, understood its changeable ways as deeply as he understood himself. It was what made him the most powerful lord in Neptuna. Well… Pirate lord.

It wasn’t Adrian’s fault that he’d turned to piracy. No… Once upon a time he had been an esteemed lord, one clawing his way up through the ranks of the Neptunan Royal Fleet to commander.

That was…until Scorpius had heard about him.

But exile suited Adrian just fine. No pompous twat ordering him about, no rules and regulations that he’d have to follow or get whipped for disobeying.

And yet the ocean… It called to him, haunted him. He felt like the greedy king from the Book of Stelle every child had been forced to read growing up—the one who had disrespected Aquaria and been forced to spend his life in hell, eternally starving as the fruit that hung above his head retreated whenever he reached out for a bite.

The ocean was always with him, always around him. And yet he could never touch it.

Some nights, when the rum wasn’t strong enough, he’d dream of her. Of greens and blues, of the salt and brine that flavoured the air Below. It had been ten years since Adrian had set foot below the waves into the sunken kingdom of Neptuna. He’d been not shy of sixteen when he was forced Above. Ten years since he had dared touch the water his ship sailed on or seen his family or his Queen.

He took a swig from the dusty bottle of rum in his hand, savouring its sweet burn as it slid down his throat. He was in the midst of wondering why he felt so morose tonight when he heard another set of footsteps on the deck and turned, nodding to his first mate, Santi.

“A message has been delivered, addressed to you, Captain.” Santi’s gruff voice held a twang of Altalunian in it although the pirate had lived in Neptuna for most of his life. His iridescent hair, one day silver, the next blue, was the only other tell that the man wasn’t pure Neptunan.

Adrian frowned. He rarely received post.

“How exactly—"

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