Page 14 of Starchaser
And not just any Shifter.
“I don’t believe we’ve officially met,” Owen says, flourishing a bow in his fine purple suit. His lips curl, a wolfish smile full of vain secrets and wicked promises. “Owen Oberon, at your service.”
I can’t breathe. Owen hasseemingly appeared out of thin air, as if he has used his powers as a Shifter to transform into something small enough he could enter the dining compartment without detection.
Will stands, his hands flexing at his sides, the air thickening as he draws on hisManan.
Owen smiles, his demeanor unnervingly calm even as his eyes light with mischief. “Lord William Castor,” he drawls, extending his hand. “You are every bit as intimidating as they claim.”
“Odd,” Will says, ignoring Owen’s proffered hand. His voice is cool, his expression aloof, but I catch the way his jaw tightens. He shifts, shielding me with his body. “You don’t seem intimidated.”
Owen’s eyes narrow as his smile grows, showing teeth. “Looks can be deceiving.” He cocks his head slowly, his hand retreating to his jacket pocket. “I’d think you, of all people, would understand that.”
I get to my feet, my fists clenched in a feeble attempt to hide the way my hands tremble. “This isn’t the place,” I say, struggling to match his poised composure, as if seeing my dead brother again doesn’t completely rattle me.
The last time I saw Owen was under the violent crimson skies of Reckoning Day. That night, I learned he was the monster haunting me for the past few months. He died trying to save me from the Nightweavers who attacked us that fateful day aboard theLightbringerand was reborn as an Underling. As a Shifter, a kind of Underling who can transform into any living creature, he left a trail of bodies in his wake to lure me from the safety of Bludgrave Manor, a string of vicious murders that led, ultimately, to our father’s death.
I learned of Owen’s allegiance to the Underling queen, Morana, just before he drove a cursed dagger through my chest. I nearly succumbed to the Shifter curse that night. And if I had, I would have been forced to join Owen in service to Morana and leave our family behind without so much as a goodbye.
Will takes a step closer to Owen, a subtle threat in the protective way he angles his body in front of mine.
“We don’t have to do this,” I say, my voice more even than I expected.
Because it’s Owen—because he knows me better than anyone ever could—he flicks a glance at my trembling hands, amusement glittering in his eyes. “Now, now. There’s no need for violence,” he says, one hand raised in a placating manner. It’s only now that I notice Gabriel and Flynn have crept quietly up behind me, their hands on the hilts of their swords. This seems to incite Owen, who gives a sinister grin. “Of course, if it’s violence you prefer, I’m happy to oblige.”
Flynn and Gabriel fall limp behind Will and me, unconscious. Their bodies hit the ground with a dull thud at the very moment Eliza grabs a steak knife from the table and Winona shrinks behind her, sobbing quietly. Eliza raises her arm as if to strike, but Owen lifts his hand, halting Eliza midmovement.
He gestures to Flynn and Gabriel. “Don’t worry; they’re alive—for now. I learned that trick from a friend of mine, actually. Did you know that as a windwalker, I can simply… steal the breath from their lungs?” He snaps his fingers, eyes bright with perverse merriment. “Just like that!”
“What do you want, Owen?” I say, my hands straying to my hips, only to remember that Titus has yet to return my daggers to me.
“Must I need a reason to visit my own flesh and blood?” he asks, his expression one of mock innocence. He looks even paler than he did before—as if something terrible has happened in the two weeks since I saw him on Reckoning Day—and I can’t help but wonder if he was punished for failing to retrieve me.
“Fine,” he says, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I admit I didn’t come here to chat. Believe it or not, I’ve come to warn you.” He brings a hand to the side of his mouth and lowers his voice, leaning in as if to share a secret. “You’re in grave danger.”
Will forces me back a step, and my heel catches on Flynn’s armor.
“What do you mean?” I ask, my heartbeat kicking into a gallop. I think of the assassin who attacked me on the train platform—his ominous warning. “What kind of danger?”
Owen watches Will with a gleeful sort of curiosity before fixing his gaze on me once more. “Some time ago, Morana sent her best general to seek out a”—he rolls his tongue in his cheek—“lost treasure. If the general failed, he would be forced into exile. Now, Morana has reason to believe that if he finds thistreasure, he plans to keep it for himself—to use it against her. He is second in power only to Morana, but if he were to recover that which Morana seeks, he would become all powerful. And she can’t have that.”
My brow furrows, my palms slick with sweat. “What does that have to do with me?”
“More than you realize,” he says, his expression suddenly serious. “All the lies Mother and Father told us—I know the truth now. And you will, too. Join me, Aster.” He extends his hand, as if expecting me to take it. “Forget the Red Island. The Known World is ours for the taking. We can go anywhere—be anything. We’ll go together, just like we promised.”
The truth. Something within me latches onto those words, drawing me a step closer to Owen, and I find that I’m barred only by Will’s solid frame.
“Aster,” Will says softly, gently, his hand brushing mine. “You can’t trust him.”
My chest aches. Will’s right—I know he’s right. But as foolish as it is, some part of me believes Owen when he tells me there’s more to be known than what Mother and Father revealed. After all, they lied to us about so much—about our heritage as Nightweavers, about what life was really like on land—what else didn’t they tell us? And if Owen knows…
I shake my head as if to clear it. This is no different from the last time we spoke, when he tried to turn me into a Shifter. The only way to join Owen is to become like him—to become an Underling and forsake everything I’m fighting for, turning my back on my family, my people, Will.
“No,” I say with renewed determination. “I won’t join you. Not like this. Leave now, or—”
“Or what?” Owen challenges, flashing his teeth in a baiting smile. “You’re going to kill me?” He throws his head back with laughter. “You can’t save them. You can’t save any of them,” he says, his tone dripping with pity, as if I am still just a child grasping for something I can never reach. “You can’t even save yourself.”
“Maybe not,” I say, raising my hands, reveling in theMananthat vibrates in my palms, in my chest, eager to be tapped. “But I’m going to try.”
