Page 22 of Starchaser
“Okay,” I say, my brows quirked. “Thank you.”
Eliza smiles warmly as she straightens the lapels of my tweed coat. She laughs, as if she’s heard a joke meant for her ears alone, the sound clear and sweet, like silvery bells. “Billie doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into with you, does he?”
Margaret makes a choking noise. “Billie?”
Eliza winks at me. “Best of luck, Aster Oberon!”
And with that, the door to the platform opens with a groan, and Gabriel ushers me out into the gray light of morning.
I’m led down the icy steps to where a black open-air carriage waits, drawn by four horses the color of midnight, their dark coats stark against the snow-covered street. Both Flynn and Gabriel are on high alert, but it’s Margaret’s watchful eye on my back that gives me a small fraction of peace. I allow Will to lead me to the carriage door, allow him to guide me up the steps and onto the plush bench seat, where he takes his place across from Margaret and me.
The carriage lurches forward. I take in the buildings that line the cobblestone streets of Ink Haven. Repairs have been made since the riots that happened after Percy’s unlawful executions, but there are still traces of that horrible night—the occasional broken pane of glass or the bloodstains hastily painted over in shades of blue or green or pink.
Titus leads our caravan, surrounded by a troop of Bloodknights. He rides a gigantic horse the color of the night sky, its hide flecked white, reminding me of thousands of tiny stars. In his black uniform, his scarlet sash bedecked in medals, he looks every bit a prince—and every bit as terrifying as the stories portray him to be.
We pass Mrs. Carroll’s bakery, the windows boarded up, aVACANTsign on the door, and my heart sinks. And there, nailed to a wooden post, is a wanted poster of Captain Shade, now marked with a redX.
News travels fast, I suppose.
I meet Will’s eyes, and when he offers me a small, sympathetic smile, I’m reminded of the day I first arrived in Ink Haven, the way he showed me the city on horseback. It seemed so lively then, its people more jaunty, its colors more vibrant. Now, even the air tastes stale and ashen, an echo of a memory, and the people gathered in the street appear to cower in fear of Titus and the Bloodknights, either too brave or too curious for their own good.
“The Reaper,” the people whisper, retreating to the safety of their homes.
“Reaper,” they murmur, shuttering their windows.
I watch Titus over Will’s shoulder, and though I can’t be sure, I think I see his shoulders tense with every mention of the king’s beast. But he never looks back at our carriage, and he doesn’t acknowledge the townspeople, his posture rigid and his gaze set on the road ahead as we make our way to the outskirts of Ink Haven and the stone fortress that sits at the top of the snow-covered hill comes into view.
In the time that I’ve been gone, it’s as if everything and yet nothing at all has changed.
Metal creaks as the guards, Gylda and Hugh, open the iron gate that leads onto the long drive. At the end of the gravel path, the half-razed structure of Bludgrave Manor looms, a monument to the dead.
For a short while, this place was home. And I didn’t realize just how happy I could have been here until it was too late.
Now, as I take in the rubble that remains of the East Wing, all I see is a carcass.
The kitchen where my father and I prepared meals side by side—gone. The ballroom where my siblings and I toasted in honor of our brother—a hollow shell, marked only by a few remaining pillars. And there, in the middle of the circle drive, the cracked fountain, its basin dried up—the fountain I destroyed by the sheer force of my power as I channeled the water that extinguished the flames.
“I wish you were staying,” Margaret says, squeezing my hand. She hasn’t let go of me since we entered the carriage, and I don’t think she plans on letting go of me anytime soon.
“Me too,” I say quietly.
Will informed me we were here for only the night. Tomorrow, my family will observe Father’s burial rites, having waited for Will to rescue me from “captivity.” Then I’ll be leaving again. This time, I’m not sure when—if ever—I’ll be returning.
We come to a halt in front of the double doors as the Bloodknights take up their posts near the front gate and all along the perimeter of Bludgrave Manor, releasing Gylda and Hugh from their duties for the evening. I watch as they make their way down the long gravel path alongside Titus, who continues his slow, steady trot, headed in the direction of the stables without so much as a glance over his shoulder at what remains of our small party.
“My lady,” Flynn says, holding out his hand for me to take. There’s something gentle—almost sympathetic—about his voice that gives me pause. His remaining hazel eye lights with what I assume is a smirk. “Please don’t make me beg.”
I roll my eyes and place my hand in his metal grasp, allowing him to guide me down from the carriage. Once safely onthe ground, he does a sort of half bow before retreating to stand behind me.
Margaret follows, taking her place beside me at the base of the shallow steps. “Welcome home,” she says, looping her arm through mine.
Will turns to catch my eye, his lips curved in the slightest hint of a smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but…” He knocks four times on the double doors. “They made quite a fuss.”
“Who—” I start, but the double doors are thrown wide, and I have my answer.
Elsie, my youngest sister, comes hurtling down the steps before I’ve had a moment to take in the sight of my family gathered in the foyer.
“You’re back!” she squeals. “You’re—”
