Page 60 of Starchaser
Killian clears his throat before Lord Bludgrave can argue. “Gentlemen, please,” he says. “You’re going to want to pay attention.”
Lewis eyes me suspiciously. “You knew,” he says, jerking his chin at Margaret. “Both of you.”
Margaret shakes her head. “I didn’t know about Mother and Father.”
“Neither did I,” I say, imploring Mother to meet my stare, but she watches Albert and Elsie, her mouth pressed in a tight line. “Our parents kept plenty of secrets from us all, it would seem.”
Mother smiles sadly. “We did what we had to do to protect you,” she says, finally meeting my eyes, and instantly I feel as if this is far too private a moment to be had in the presence of so many outsiders.
“I don’t understand,” Elsie says. “Why is everyone so upset?” Her quiet voice sounds so young, so fragile, and a sudden rush of anger overcomes me as I realize what Mother intends to do.
“No,” I say, slamming a hand down on the table. Mother and I stand on opposite ends of the room, and for the first time in my life, I feel as if we’re on opposing sides of a battlefield. “You will not recruit them. This isn’t their fight.”
“It most certainly is,” Mother says, her demeanor as calm as ever—which in this moment only serves to infuriate me. “It always has been.”
“Why now?” I ask, my throat painfully tight. “Why wait until Father is dead to finallydosomething?” Tears streak my face, but the rage within me will not be sated. “You knew—you knew about all of this—and you let me face it alone!”
Mother frowns. “Oh, Aster,” she says, fixing me with a look that makes me feel childish and weak. “You’ve never been alone. Not even for a moment.”
Lord Bludgrave huffs. “This is absurd,” he says, adjusting his cravat. “As a senior member of the Order, if Philip and Grace Oberon were sympathetic to the cause, surely we would have been made aware.”
“Silas, I wouldn’t—” Killian starts, but Mother raises a hand, and he falls silent.
“It’s all right,” she says to him before squaring her shoulders at Lord Bludgrave. “The Elite have always thought it best to keep my and Philip’s identities a secret. Your clearance didn’t warrant this level of disclosure.”
Lord Bludgrave’s face reddens. “My clearance? I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I find it hard to believe that the Elite would keepthe identities of two pirates a secret from the senior members of the Order, especially when you were living underourroof?!”
Lady Isabelle’s eyes crinkle as if she were laughing, but her voice comes out on a breath. “Killian, your message said you’d received new information from Dawnrender.” She cocks her head at Mother. “Maker of All,” she whispers. “How did I not see it before?”
I’ve only ever seen Mother smirk on certain occasions—when she knew she was about to win at cards, when an enemy was seconds away from surrender, or when she knew she proved Father wrong in a petty argument. Now, her lips twitch, the makings of a wry grin, and I feel as if she’s about to strike a match to ignite a flame that will consume us all.
“Each of you were called here tonight because the Order considers your cooperation vitally important to our cause moving forward,” Mother says, rolling up her sleeve to reveal the tattoo of a winged dagger; only, hers is slightly different. Inked down the center of the blade is a single word—a name. “You have known me as Grace Oberon.” She sticks her hand out in Lord Bludgrave’s direction, as if waiting for him to shake it. “But you may call me Dawnrender.”
Dawnrender. My mother is Dawnrender.
I watch Will, attempt to gauge his expression. The only hint of surprise I detect is the slight widening of his eyes. But any shock he may feel quickly gives way to a look of amusement, his gaze narrowed with that calculating intelligence that he and his uncle seem to share—as if he’s already one step ahead of everyone else in the room or knows something he shouldn’t. It’s both captivating and unnerving, and at this very moment, it feels almost… dangerous.
“Dawnrender,” Will says, squeezing between Henry and me, placing himself a half step in front of me.
He fixes Killian with an inquisitive look. “How long have you known?”
Killian’s expression is part exhaustion, part relief. “I’ve known—” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefingerand thumb. “IknewPhilip Oberon since we were young. About your age, actually.”
The somewhat civil conversation gives way to chaos, everyone speaking at once. Sybil shifts uncomfortably—I almost forgot she was in the room, but I notice her now, scratching at her arm where the tattoo of the winged dagger peeks out from beneath her sleeve. Eliza stands to the right of Sybil, and I try to focus on whatever it is she says to Lord Bludgrave, but her voice fades beneath the pounding of a thousand drums in my ears.
Mother isn’t just a member of the Order—she’s anElitemember. She must have known when I joined, but she never said anything. She never tried to help me. Surely, it wasn’t a coincidence we ended up at Bludgrave Manor. Did Mother know Will would offer us employment? Did she plan for us to be captured? Was Owen’s death an accident—collateral damage she didn’t account for? Or did she know about the Sylks—know I would hunt down my brother’s killer, and that everything would lead us here, to this moment?
Father’s compass weighs heavily in my pocket, like an anchor threatening to drag me to the depths of the sea.
Lie after lie after lie—all from the person I trusted the most. And now she’s right in front of me—she’s finally revealed herself, but she’s done it in a room full of people, and in such a way that it’s as if she expects me to just… accept it. As if I can accept that everything I’ve ever known about her is a lie. And worse—everything I ever knew about Father is a lie, too.
Because I know, now, what I only suspected before. Mother is the reason I have Nightweaver blood in my veins. And though Owen claimed our siblings didn’t possess an affinity, because I’m abloodletter and Owen a windwalker, I can only assume that somewhere in our family tree, we came from a line of nobility.
The information feels as if it opens a chasm within me too wide to cross. Especially not here. Especially not now.
Because Mother isn’t the only guilty party in this room.
Charlie looks between Mother and Killian, his hand clutching his chest as if he were physically wounded. “All this time?” he says. “You’ve known each other all this time, and you pretended—you never—”
