Page 91 of Above
She had the stars.
I needed them.
She craved acceptance.
I’d never live without it.
“You have the stars,” I whispered, peering at her. Something had changed. More than just her having what I had always dreamed of. A sort of vibration began beneath my skin—in my very bones. It was cold and warm at the same time. Both soothing and unsettling. Blinking repeatedly, she watched me. I found myself missing the honey in her eyes. Perhaps because the darkness there was now a reminder of how powerful she was and how much stronger she’d become.
“I have the stars,” she repeated, not moving. Yes, something strange was happening.
“Are you ready for what will come?” I dared to ask. Not that I was on her side. In fact, I quickly fought off the concern for her, willing my pinched brow and pursed lips to relax. It wasn’t my job to care for her. Not myburden.
“No, but I figure I don’t have a choice.” Her voice shook, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. Without looking, I knew she had begun to rub her fingers together, those nerves getting the best of her. She wasn’t built for this. It was so obvious. Why hadn’t the stars seen that? “Are you?”
Was I? Cocking my head, I studied her, thinking over the question. Was I ready for what was to come? Would I ever be? She had stolen everything from me, and now I would suffer for it. A part of me hated her. Wanted her dead still. Another part, the stronger one, hated myself for not despising her nearly enough.
She was still hurt, blood seeping in various places, her wild curls matted. Such a mess. Such aneadi.Without letting myself second guess it, I scooted toward her, watching with barelytempered glee as she tensed in what had to be fear. I liked her terror for some reason. The tension that bled from her.
Despite how cool, calm, and calculated I liked to think myself, I threw caution to the wind for a moment. Allowing myself to act without thought. Without worry of the consequences that would surely follow. My hand moved to her cheek, a smirk lifting the left half of my mouth when her fingers wrapped around my wrist. I didn’t stop though. My face was just mere inches from hers, our breaths mingling, tainting one another. Poisoning ourselves and everything around us. Just as the stars had suggested, Tershetta and I could destroy worlds together. I didn’t know how, but I felt it deep in my chest. In the electrified air.
For a split second, her eyes flicked down, stilling on my lips before rising to my own once more. Perhaps she felt it, too.
“I’m always ready, Little Void,” I hummed, willing my magic into her, healing her as best as I could with my limited expertise. She flinched, her eyes scrunching closed. For some reason, I hated that. “Eyes on me, Tershetta. It’s the least you can do.”
To my surprise, she listened. Her eyes met mine, enemies acknowledging one another, born to hate and loathe. To tear apart everything the other held dear. We both stood in one another’s way.
Together we absorbed that mutual understanding. Then, with her body mostly healed and nothing left to do, I got up and moved to the door, the two of us sucking in desperate breaths as I put distance between us. The space seemed to clear my mind, the sound of my revelation loud now.
Tershetta was the last thing standing in my way, and I was beginning to doubt that I could get past her.
Maybe, just maybe, there was freedom in such a truth.
Chapter Forty
Nova
“Celeste didn’t get magic today. I expected her to cry, but she almost seemed…relieved.”
-From the journal of Nova Tershetta, 9254 AS
Graduation had been moved up.
Somehow they had readied us within a day, which I figured was mostly for damage control.
According to Talon and Zura, I had demolished the entire planet when I pulled the magic from it. While not every trainee had survived the fight, anyone who was alive at that moment had successfully shadow walked out.
Because of me, we had experienced the quickest conquest in known history, the total time spent on planet nine-three-four being only fifteen minutes in Dajahim time.
Everyone seemed eager to congratulate me, their eyes locking on mine—staring into my black irises with their silver dots. A night sky now existed within my eyes. And in my mind, the stars whispered.
They had been quiet for the first day, my slow and dazed walk to Talon and I’s barracks room leaving me disoriented as I waited for their voices. Nothing came while I moved. Nor did they speak when Talon, who had still been blood-soaked—frantically checked me. Lunch was silent, as was dinner. So was training and my trip to the alchemy classroom.
But then, suddenly, they began to mutter in my mind this morning. It was nonsensical, but the constant chatter had already put me on edge. Worse, I was absolutely positive I wanted nothing to do with any of it. Even when surrounded in a room, I felt a creeping and bleak loneliness. There was a foreboding darkness in my chest, one that swirled with every thought of the hundreds of thousands of people I had killed.
Once, I had dreamt of possessing the stars. Now, I was quite literally terrified of them. The only bright side came with the knowledge that I was likely days away from finding a solution for my family.
The stars hadn’t confirmed it, but I had a sneaking suspicion that if I could siphon magic, then I could also award it. If I possessed the very essence of the stars—if I could speak to them and pull magic out of planets—then why couldn’t I also give magic to others as they did?
