Page 109 of Starchaser
I blink at them, stunned at how quickly they’ve adjusted to this discovery. “Mother told you?”
Charlie nods, his brows pinched. “She said we might never access our affinities. Something about repressed magic.” He shrugs. “How can you miss something you never knew you had, hmm?”
My heart aches for them when I think about my connection to the water. I can’t imagine never feeling that pull, never hearing the song of the sea as I do now, growing louder, calling out to me.…
“Where are we?” I ask.
Their faces brighten, and they share a knowing smile.
Lewis answers, “Why don’t you see for yourself??”
My brothers bolster me, half-walking, half-dragging me to the open window. I look down, through the canopy of leaves, at a beach where Elsie and Albert splash in the shallow water, along with a few other children I don’t recognize. Nearby, Margaret and Jack stroll hand in hand, walking barefoot in the sand. Margaretturns, shouting something over her shoulder, and Jack waves as if to beckon someone.
Henry limps toward them, dragging his left leg slightly.
Relief nearly knocks me off my feet, and if it weren’t for Charlie and Lewis, I might collapse again, overwhelmed at the sight of a harbor to the east, where hundreds of ships make port, an entire fleet flying a crimson flag embroidered with a silver eight-point star. Owen used to tell me stories about what paradise might look like, but I could have never imagined anything this beautiful. From my window, I can see where this room had been built into boughs high above the ground, along with dozens of offshoots of rooms—some smaller, some much, much larger—in all directions, all tucked into the gnarled branches of this massive, ancient tree.
“Is this…”
“Welcome home, Aster Oberon.”
Gripping Charlie’s and Lewis’s arms, I turn to see a beautiful woman standing in the open doorway, a golden crown adorned with seashells and precious gemstones atop her long, dirty-blond waves. Everything about her is graceful and relaxed, from her hair to her posture to her simple blue silk gown, the loose silhouette and draping sleeves different from anything I might have worn at Castle Grim. She grins at me, her tanned, freckled face beaming, and her kind eyes remind me in an instant of Father and Owen.
“My name is Orella,” she says, her grin broadening to a full, joyful smile. “Orella Oberon.”
“Father’s little sister,” Charlie adds with a grin.
Orella laughs, the sound as warm and beautiful as she. “I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you, Aster.”
I stare at her, my mouth gaping. Mother and Father neverspoke of their lives before us—never spoke of their siblings. For all we knew, our parents had no family.
Sympathy flickers in Orella’s eyes, but her smile remains as she gestures at the open window, at the white sandy beach and sparkling, sunlit waves. “Welcome to the Red Island.”
“Az, slow down!” Charlie urgesas he and Lewis flank me, ready to catch me if I were to trip and fall. But I feel stronger than I have in days—weeks—as I follow Orella through the humid maze of staircases, rope bridges, and wooden hallways of the Palace of Pearls. Or, as Orella refers to it simply and lovingly, the Pearl.
“When you first arrived two days ago, you were very ill,” Orella tells me, slowing her pace to match mine.
“How long was I…?” I glance at Lewis, and he frowns.
“The wedding was three weeks ago,” he says. Hesitates. “You’ve been… unstable.”
Three weeks.Panic flares in my chest.
“Shouldn’t I have… am I—”
“You have not turned,” Orella says slowly, carefully. “Your curse is unlike any other. The venom should have already transformedyou into a Shifter—the moment the enchantment broke and the venom infected your blood, you should have succumbed to the fever. But it’s as if something is… interfering. I sense the presence of Underling magic—a force that seems tospeakto the venom.” She shakes her head, her expression perplexed. “The same can be said for your friend, William. He, too, has managed to stave off the transformation, though we don’t know how.”
My heart pounds against my sternum, my mouth suddenly dry. “The Shifter who bit me as a child,” I say. “He said he could control the venom.”
But Flynn is dead. Which confirms what I suspected in the dungeons: Flynn was framed. The Shifter who bit me is still alive.
But that doesn’t explain why Will hasn’t turned. Could the Shifter have something to do with Will’s curse, too? Could he be keeping Will alive for some reason?
“What can we do?” I ask.
Orella casts a sidelong glance in my direction, hesitating, and my stomach clenches. “I’ve done all I can to form a new enchantment around your heart and buy you more time,” she says. “But my magic is not strong enough to break the curse.”
“You’re a—” I shake my head, suddenly dizzy, and Lewis places a steadying hand on my elbow. “You’re a Sorceress?”
