Page 56 of Starchaser
“It’s not you,” he says, looking as if he were about to jump out of his skin. He refuses to look at me. “I believe in you, Aster. More than I’ve ever believed in anyone. But I don’t have much time left, and I don’t want you anywhere near me when it happens.”
“Don’t say things like that,” I say, trying—and failing—to keep my voice below a whisper. “You have time.Wehave time. We’re going to get the cure—”
“Aster,” he breathes, reaching for me.
“No!” I cast off his hand. “It’s like… like you’ve already accepted it! But I can’t accept it. I won’t. Don’t ask me to.”
Instantly, I regret pushing him away, because all I want is for him to hold me—to tell me he’ll fight until the end. And for a moment, I think he will—think he’ll wrap me up in his arms and whisper promises in my ear. But he lowers his hand. Takes another step back. Straightens his lapels.
“I’m not asking you to give up on finding the cure for yourself,” he says, his jaw set. “But I never asked for you to save me.”
Each word feels like a death blow.I never asked for you to save me.He might as well have told me that Ican’tsave him.
And I don’t like to be told what I can and cannot do.
I don’t need to be saved—I never have. Will knows that. But we were supposed to do this together. Only, there never truly has been a “together” for Will and me. This whole time, he’s known he would die. Every moment we’ve spent together—every night spent beneath the stars in the conservatory. He knew. He always knew. And even if we manage to find the cure—even if I can still save him—what kind of life could we have together? Surely, he can’t see a future with me when the law forbids us to love—to marry.…
Unless I kill the king and abolish the law that prevents ourkind from being together, it won’t matter if Will is cured. He will still be a Nightweaver of noble birth.
And I will always be a pirate.
Inside, trumpets blare, signaling the start of the feast. Will breathes a heavy sigh as he takes one last look at the lights of Jade and extends his hand to me.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he says, his voice rough. “Come, before we’re missed.”
I take his hand, but as he leads me back inside, for the first time since our paths crossed all those months ago, his touch is cold.
Tick. Tick. Tick. I feelthe seconds slipping through my fingers like water as Will escorts me to one of the tables along the outskirts of the dance floor, where Killian and the Castor family have taken their seats. He pulls out the chair to his right, between him and Annie, who seems to shrink in her seat, glum and reserved and nothing like the cheerful, outgoing little girl I met all those months ago. And while Will immediately strikes up a conversation with Killian, as if our argument on the balcony never happened, I decide to show him I’m not the least bit affected by turning to Annie, who could use a friendly chat more than even I could.
“Oh, good,” I say, offering her a conspiratorial smile as I cut a glance at Henry, drinking lazily across the table. “I thought they were going to put me next to Henry, again.”
This seems to get Henry’s attention, but he must see what I’mtrying to do, because he carries on as if he didn’t hear me mention him.
Annie peeks up at me through a curtain of dark curls. “I thought you were friends?” she asks, somewhat sleepily.
“Oh, sure.” I wink at Henry, lowering my voice to a whisper as I lean in toward Annie. “But he chews awfully loud.”
Annie giggles. “He does, doesn’t he?”
Henry’s eyes narrow, but then he sticks his tongue out at Annie, and the three of us share a brief moment of simple joy before the trumpets blare once more and the king raises his glass from where he stands on the landing above.
My heart twists when I glance at Annie to find she’s staring down at her lap, her posture rigid. I think of my sister Elsie when I take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze—the kind of reassurance that saysI’m here, you’re not alonewithout having to say anything at all.
Annie squeezes back, tight enough that I don’t let go.
King Calix welcomes the assembly to the feast as Titus and Leo take their seats on either side of Queen Calantha at their table overlooking the ballroom. I struggle to see Titus’s face from where I sit, but I note the bottle in his grasp.
He knew this entire time he planned to use my blood to draw Morana out—planned to use me as bait. And rather than feel angry at him for it, I’m more frustrated that I didn’t think of it first.
“… the Shadowslayer,” the king says, and the sudden uproar of applause snaps me out of my thoughts. “Stand, Dame Oberon, and accept this great honor.”
Great honor?
This time, Annie squeezesmyhand, as if to reassure me that I’m not alone, either. Still, as I get to my feet, my heart throbbingin my chest, I stand alone. I stare up at the king, looking down on me from above, alone. It’s as if everyone else has simply vanished and the king and I are the only two people in this room. Him, on his gilded dais. Me, in my bloodstained armor.
“I had planned to wait, but after your heroic display of bravery in the throne room today, the queen has urged me to act now, on this very night,” the king says smoothly. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his bleak, lifeless eyes. “Following the wedding on Holy Winter’s Day, I have arranged for you to lead a troop of soldiers to the border of Hellion, where you will represent the Eerie within the League of Seven in the ongoing fight against the Underlings.”
I feel the ghost of a dagger pierce my heart. Feel it twist.
