Page 9 of Starchaser
I collapse onto the narrow cot, my mind whirling. I’m not sure how many minutes pass before a familiar voice startles me out of my daze.
“If Lewis could see you in those rags,” Margaret says, “I think he’d have a stroke.”
My sister Margaret crushes mein her embrace.
“Oh, Marge,” I say, tears stinging my eyes. I pull away, twining my fingers with hers. “What are you doing here? How—”
“Lord William had it arranged,” she explains, somewhat giddy. “I’m to be your lady’s maid until we reach Ink Haven.”
“Ink Haven?” Just the mention of the township nestled in the valley below the Castors’ estate fills me with longing. “I didn’t know we were—”
“Stopping there? It was a last-minute decision. I was supposed to go all the way to Jade with you, but I suppose Lord William wanted to see his home again before you all left for Castle Grim.” She gives a watery smile, and my stomach flips at the thought of the capital city—of Jade, where I’m to be knighted. “Oh, Aster, he was so distraught. He wouldn’t rest until he got you back.”
My stomach somersaults. Even though I know the rescue was fake, the thought of Will anxious to find me, to bring me home…
I give her hands a squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Margaret squeezes back. “Me too.” Her expression turns apprehensive. “Aster, what they’re saying, about Captain Shade—”
“I know.”
“He’s really dead then?”
I hope Margaret doesn’t see me hesitate when I say, “I suppose so.”
Her eyes narrow. “He didn’t really take you captive, though, did he?” She glances at the rags I’m wearing, no doubt assessing what anyone else would have been too distracted by the fanfare of my rescue to notice: I’m unharmed. No bruises, no cuts. And I don’t look like I’ve been underfed. Lowering her voice, she adds, “I know he wasn’t responsible for what happened at Bludgrave.”
It still feels as if it were only yesterday that the Sylk who murdered our brother Owen led a troop of Underlings into Bludgrave Manor and slaughtered the guests on Reckoning Day. The image of the Castors’ ballroom, bodies strewn across the bloody floor, flashes through my mind every time I close my eyes. And Owen, waiting for me in the woods, a dagger in his hand…
I peek my head into the hallway, ensuring we’re alone, before shutting the door to the sleeping compartment.
“What do you mean?” I ask innocently.
“Well, I was there. I saw the Underlings with my own eyes. And—” This time, it’s Margaret who hesitates. “Jack told me everything.”
Jack.The Castors’ stableboy and I had become fast friends during my time at Bludgrave, but he and Margaret had become somethingmore. I should have known he would tell Margaret the truth about the attack, but I can’t be sure what exactly that truth entails. “Told you…?”
Margaret’s cheeks flush. She rolls up her shirtsleeve, where the inked lines of a winged dagger blossom on the surface of her skin.
My blood turns to ice. Margaret bears the mark of the winged dagger, an enchanted tattoo that signifies her allegiance to a dangerous cause—to the Order of Hildegarde, the centuries-old coalition between humans, Nightweavers, and Myths all fighting for justice and freedom from the Nightweavers who rule over them. The same enchanted tattoo that marks my forearm as well.
“Oh, Marge,” I groan. “You didn’t!Hedidn’t!”
“Jack—”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“He only wanted—”
“I don’t care. He’s dead.”
“It was my choice!” she says, standing up straighter, her shoulders pulled back.
“And what about our brothers and sister?” My blood warms, heats, reaches a boiling point. “Did Jack take it upon himself to recruit them, too?”
“He didn’trecruitme.” Margaret blushes again. “And no, he didn’t tell them. They don’t know anything.”
“Good.” I unclench my fists. “It’s going to stay that way.”
