Page 44 of The Stars are Dying

Cassia joined me in lying back. “You didn’t…?” she asked carefully.

“I don’t know what I had with Hektor. I knew that it was safe and that I had a lot of figuring out to do before I could face the world without his help. He told me he loved me often; I said it back, and sometimes I truly believed it. I wanted life with him to work after all he’d done for me, but he would always be cruel. Now I don’t think I’ll ever say that word again. Love. Because I’m scared to think of him with it.”

“I should have seen it sooner,” Cassia said.

I shook my head, mapping the stars with no hard feelings. “It wasn’t your job to see it, and I didn’t want you to. I was planning to leave him eventually. I just needed more time, and that’s why I didn’t agree to go with you. I didn’t want you implicated in that escape plan when I knew he would come after me.”

Cassia sat up abruptly, swiping the bottle and taking several swigs before holding it out to me. “To the death of that bastard. And to your bravery for breaking free.”

I didn’t think I deserved her praise, but I accepted the offering. The burn of alcohol began to numb, and I wasn’t certain how much more I drank before I set it down panting.

“Now, if only I could get my damn memories back,” I said. My balance swayed a little as I got to my feet. “Maybe if I’d had a better lover in the past I could even exchange scandalous bedroom affairs with you now.”

Cassia planted her hands on her hips, slipping as she got to her feet, and I giggled. “He didn’t even satisfy in the bedroom? Stars, I hate him!” she yelled skyward.

“Shh…” I slipped and skated over to her, the air becoming an infusion of our laughter and alcohol. “We can’t hate on the dead—they might come back to haunt us,” I said.

Cassia huffed, reaching into her cloak and fiddling with something for longer than necessary with the effects of the whiskey. She unclipped the belt of six small daggers, taking three before holding the others out to me.

“Precarious heights and very sharp implements don’t pair well with whiskey,” I commented, but I took the remaining knives anyway.

“I figured we could both use a release,” she said. Finding a discarded wine crate, she sloppily set it up across the roof.

“Sounds like you got plenty of that tonight already.”

Cassia gaped at me, and it was too easy not to enjoy the teasing. It drifted all our burdens afar. “Fair point,” she said, composing herself and taking an expert stance.

Knife throwing was a particular favorite sport. I’d tried swords, but they never felt right compared to the lightweight precision of daggers. Despite her impairment from the liquor, Cassia’s first knife lodged into the wine crate with perfect accuracy.

“If there’s one thing you’re not allowed to give up on, it’s love, Astraea. That’s a demand.”

I threw my own blade, and it hit close to hers. “I didn’t say I’d given up. I love you, don’t I?”

“I don’t just mean platonic love,” she amended.

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “What’s it good for anyway? Lust can be satisfied without such things that only serve to trick or make one vulnerable.”

“Just promise me you won’t stop believing it’s out there for you.” She turned to me after letting go of her second blade.

My brow arched at her seriousness, and I used my next throw to distract myself from the unease that threatened my growing buzz. “I’m sure you won’t let that happen,” I mused.

“I’m not always going to be here.”

My arm dropped at her sudden change of tone. I couldn’t look at her, barely able to keep my lip from wobbling.

The crack of a whip against stone made us both whirl around. It came from over the edge.

“Hurry up!” a man hissed.

I copied Cassia’s stealth to crouch and observe the commotion. Finding a large cage on wheels, I nearly gasped at the forms being forced inside. It looked to be something crafted for animals, but these were people, albeit like none I had seen before.

“They’re fae,” Cassia said with an air of wonder.

The term pricked my interest, faint knowledge trickling in, but it was overshadowed by the sorry sight of them. I couldn’t understand why they were beingherded.Some had dark skin, others pale, plus some beautiful shades in between, and they could’ve almost passed for human if it weren’t for their pointed ears. Except some had particularly mesmerizing traits. A tall, slim male wrapped a tail around his lower leg to prevent it from being stepped on. Another petite female had small horns peeking out of short black hair. They all kept their heads bowed, submitting to the voice of authority that threatened punishment if they didn’t enter the iron wagon.

“I wasn’t sure if it was true,” Cassia said quietly. Her brow firmed with calculated anger as she watched them. “People see the fae so rarely that many believed they were extinct with the celestials.”

I had certainly never seen them, only in fairy tales—or those I had thought to be. “Where are they taking them?” I dreaded to ask.

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