Page 8 of Starchaser
“She is.” His face hardens. “I knew from the moment she arrived. Leo is nothing more than a costume Morana has chosen to wear. The girl I knew is gone.”
I note the pain in his voice, his eyes. “Butifshe wasn’t possessed,” I start again, “would you have…”
“Would I have felt differently about marrying her?” Titus’s expression softens. He pinches his nose, takes a deep breath. “I always suspected my parents would attempt to form an alliance with Hellion—we both did—but neither of us wanted this. Leo was my friend. Nothing more. That’s why I first suspected she wasn’t herself.” He grimaces. “ThisLeo couldn’t be more excited about the wedding.”
A knot forms in my throat. “Do you think,” I say slowly, “that perhaps Leo feels differently than you? Maybe she’s changed. Maybe—”
“No,” is his swift reply. “I’m certain of this.”
“But, Titus—”
“No, Aster,” he says through gritted teeth. “Leo isgone. It’s not just the wedding! It’s—” He hesitates, then drops his voice to a whisper. “When Leo first arrived at Castle Grim, she asked to see the Bloodroses.”
Months back, Will enlightened me on Bloodroses and how the flowers produceManan, a glittering gold substance known as “the dust of creation.”Mananoffers power to both humans and Nightweavers alike, if they can get their hands on it, and the last remaining garden is purported to grow within Castle Grim, making it a scarce, highly coveted resource—even for the nobility.
“I didn’t think anything of it,” Titus continues. “Leo’s seen the garden plenty of times, though she’d always expressed a certain…distaste for it. She never liked the wayMananmade her feel—hated it, even. But that night in the garden, she said something to me—something odd.”
A muscle feathers in his jaw, and his mouth works, as if he was fighting to keep the words from spilling out—a final attempt to save his friend from further condemnation.
“What did she say?” I whisper, prompting him to continue—hating that I must.
Titus’s nose twitches, and he clears his throat. “She said, ‘Just think what we could accomplish if we no longer needed the Bloodroses forManan.’ She started talking about ‘our rule’ and seeking alternative sources ofManan—humansources.” His lip curls with disgust, and as I watch his face, I remember Will’s words from long ago:Blood is the purest source ofManan, but human blood is the most potent.
“The Leo I knew would never have said anything like that. It was like… like she was a completely different person.” He nods, as if still trying to convince himself. “She’s possessed, and the only thing I can do to help her now is give her a dignified death—to set her free from Morana’s control.”
A dignified death. It’s the same thing Owen promised me when we were surrounded by the Nightweavers who took us from our life at sea to one on land. I knew then what he was prepared to do—that if he could not save me, he would be the one to take my life.
I’m still not certain Titus is right about Leo, but if there’s even the smallest chance that he is, and that exposing Morana would mean obtaining a cure for Will and me, then I have no other choice but to hope he’s onto something.
“If Leoispossessed…” I say quietly, “how do you know it’s Morana and not just another Sylk?”
“I just…” He looks out the window, his eyes somewhat distant. “I justfeelit. I’ve been around plenty of Sylks—battled them, banished them. But that night in the garden with Leo, I felt something else. Something ancient and evil and…” He shakes his head. “It’s Morana, I’m certain of it. And with your ability to see Sylks, we can prove it.”
I hesitate. “If itisMorana,” I start, hurrying to add before he can correct me, “how do you plan to force her to take her corporeal form?”
He blows out a tight breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m still working on it.”
My mouth gapes. “You’reworkingon it?” I say. “You’re telling me I’ve come all this way—that I’m going to take an oath to become a Bloodknight—and you don’t even have a plan?”
“I have a plan,” he says through gritted teeth. “The details are just… not your concern.”
I huff, craning my neck to look him in the eye. “It’s my job to determine whether she’s possessed. And I’m able to do so only because ofmy curse—you know, the one only Morana can cure?”
His jaw clenches. “It’s complicated,” he says, his voice surprisingly soft. “Your people have long believed there is a ritual that can force Morana to take her corporeal form. But it requires immense power, and…”
“And?” I demand, but my voice cracks.
Titus’s brows pinch. His gaze drifts, as if his mind were somewhere far away. “And I’m not yet sure I’m capable of doing what must be done to see it fulfilled.”
Dread pools low in my gut. “Tell me,” I say, attempting a quieter, gentler tone, but my building frustration seeps in, tainting the words. “I can help. Iwantto help.”
He looks at me then, and there’s such sadness in his eyes—such heartache—that I feel as if I’m seeing not Captain Shade, not Prince Titus, but someone else entirely. An instant later he clears his throat, and his expression turns harsh, his eyes now cold and empty, as if I imagined the sorrow that transformed him only moments ago.
“Youarehelping,” he drawls. “Youwill use your strange, unique ability to see the big bad shadow creatures,” he adds, wiggling his fingers, “andIwill perform the ritual that forces Morana to take her corporeal form so thatIcan get a few measly drops of the Sylk queen’s blood and use it to cure you and our poor friend William. Do I make myself clear?”
Before I can say anything, he straightens his jacket with a furious tug, adding, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone here who has been waiting very patiently to greet you.”
Without another word, he storms out of the train car.
