Page 12 of Bound By Stardust
An icy shiver went through me as I recalled the blade in my side. The warning made me want to turn away instead of returning to the kingdom of grace and glory.
At least this time, I had someone to return to in Terrin.
Asira.
Unless the kiss scared her off and she ran away. That was an entirely possible situation, and the idea of hunting her down entertained me.
It would be wise to forget about being entangled with a mortal, although I recalled the pointed ears she kept hidden. Spending a week with her didn’t give me the chance to find out more about her, apart from the fact that she was raised by her grandmother, who groomed her to become the next Stardust Collector.
I waffled with the idea of returning for her after the tithe. Wasn’t it risky to put someone I cared about in danger, especially when my memories were still unclear?
The largest island rose before me, and I balanced on Egon’s back and leaped. I rolled onto peat moss, the impact knocking my breath from my lungs, but I forced myself to keep moving, rasping as I crawled to the marble statues.
The Masters were fond of carving their likeness into statues, or at least the version of themselves wearing their golden hair—I recalled those were wigs—and the carved masks that hid their faces and eyes.
Statues dotted the three floating islands, and as I walked, I recalled each statue held a secret. Was that the clue I’d discovered? No, who would stab me for learning the entrance to the network of tunnels underground?
I reached the first statue, unlocked a trap door, and closed it behind me. As I made my way into the tunnels, memories flashed before me: running, screams, blood, a roar of anger, the stink of decay, and red. So much red.
A chill passed over me, and goosebumps pebbled on my arms. A warning. But I couldn’t flee. The tunnels were where I’d crept in secret, spying and searching for the truth. It was also where I stored my clothes and weapons. Today, I had a jar of stardust to add to my collection.
Finding my stash, I dressed, pulling on the robe, my golden hair, and that horrible, restrictive, gilded mask. It had a symbol on it noting my identity, which was risky to wear in a place where I was supposed to be dead. Why hadn’t I been wearing the mask when I’d fallen?
During the past six months, no one had found my things. Had I taken a risk and gone out unmasked? A sense warned me that it was forbidden to walk the halls of the floating kingdom without a mask, at least for the Masters. Frowning, I tucked away the stardust and tugged on a vial to hang around my neck. Tucking my knife into the band of my robe, I set off for the exit.
Rumor had it that because of their magic, the Masters were susceptible to iron, a rumor I knew to be false. There was something that the Masters could not tolerate, and I sensed I had found it and planned on using it to discover the truth. That revelation still escaped me, and I had to be careful as I sought out Iscariot for revenge.
I crept through the tunnels and took the ladder that led to the kitchens, ignoring the foul tang that hung in the air. After a while, I’d grown used to the odd scent, yet it still threatened to turn my stomach.
My fingertips touched the walls, the familiarity of the place growing stronger. I recalled the twists and turns, the passageways that led nowhere, the twists that made no sense, and the secret entrance I couldn’t find. Because of the tithe, the halls were silent, only hushed whispers spoken. Most must be at the great hall, preparing for the ceremony. What if I was too late?
At last, I reached the hall of chambers where the Masters dwelled. Double doors were closed, and on each one was carved a rune that matched the ones on their masks. I paused outside of Iscariot’s chambers, frightening memories surfacing, but it wasn’t enough. I placed my hand on the knob, envisioning the truth on the other side. If he’d already gone to the great hall, I could at least search his chambers for clues.
Opening the door, I slipped inside and took off my mask.
Iscariot’s chambers were vast and rich, three connected rooms with tapestries and carpets, mirrors and crystals, clothing made of the finest silk, and a mask for every day. I closed the door behind me, my hand going to my knife as a voice drawled from the other side of the wall. “Is that you, Jabel? You’re too early, go away.”
“It’s not Jabel,” I said, “and you run the risk of being late to the ceremony.”
Iscariot snorted. “As if I’d miss my own mating ceremony.”
I stilled. Iscariot’s time had come, and he was to mate with one of the chosen today. A marriage, if one could call it that. If he went missing, the incident would be far too noticeable, and I feared what retaliation the Masters would take.
Iscariot chose that moment to come around the corner and enter the main sitting room. He was half-dressed, mask on, golden hair shining, but he paused, staring at my naked face. “Oh. You. I could have sworn I killed you the first time.”
I held up my blade. “A mistake you’ll regret, because you won’t get a chance to kill me again.”
Iscariot stepped toward me, unafraid. “You forget, I know who you truly are, and I warned the Masters about you. You’re not one of us, you infiltrating spy. You seek to undo all the right we’ve done for centuries.”
“I seek to free Terrin from your masquerade.”
“What is done cannot be undone. We are too strong, too powerful.”
I laughed. “With one flaw. I know your weakness: your race is dying out.”
“You forgot about the tithe; one of the women will be the answer. In fact, this year, we changed the requirements and focused on families with a little magic in their bloodlines.”
“Mortals don’t have magic,” I countered.
