Scavenge the Stars (Scavenge the Stars #1)(35)

“Soliere. Where my parents are from.”

The country of Soliere—long since subsumed into the Rain Empire—was on the complete opposite side of the continent. Cayo swallowed against the tightness of his throat. He had experienced this before, suddenly having one of the constants of his life ripped away, but it never got any easier.

“Don’t pretend to care so much for him now,” Philip sneered, watching his reaction. “Or are you just like those other rich children, crying over a toy they can no longer play with?”

Cayo briefly considered pushing Philip over the railing. Taking a steadying breath, he squared his shoulders. “When does he leave?”

“At dawn.” Philip hesitated, the smoke from his cigarillo drifting upward in a thin plume. “He’s taking the Sovereign.”

Cayo blinked at him, wondering if he was lying. At Cayo’s shocked silence, Philip scoffed.

“I’m not telling you for your sake,” he said, “but for his. For some reason I still can’t comprehend, he cares for you.” Philip took a long draw off his cigarillo. “He’ll want to say good-bye.”

For the first time, Cayo heard the misery in his voice. He lingered there a moment, wondering if he should apologize, if there was anything he could say that would help. But in the end, he figured the best thing to do was to leave Philip alone.

“Thank you,” he murmured before heading back for the carriage. Philip gave him a rude hand gesture in farewell.

Bas was leaving at dawn. Cayo had only a few hours to figure out what he was going to say to him. He paused halfway down the road to stare at the ocean’s restless surface, the lighthouse behind him flashing its warnings into the dark. Toward the places he would never see.



The Sovereign was a midsize galleon sporting the flag of Moray, as well as blue-and-silver pennants that represented the Rain Empire. Cayo only spared it a passing glance as he ran full tilt toward the dock. He had only just arrived and had had to scan the board outside the Port’s Authority offices to figure out where to go.

The horizon was limned in dusky red, casting a pink glow over the harbor. It made Cayo feel as if everything around him were surreal, from the cry of the gulls to the creaking of the ships.

And the form of Sébastien just ahead, about to step onto the gangplank.

“Bas!”

His friend froze at the sound of his voice. There was another person with Sébastien, dressed in Dageur livery—no doubt sent by Philip to help Bas with the journey—who whispered something in his ear. As Cayo stumbled to a halt, gasping for breath, Bas murmured something back to the servant and nodded. Then he turned and made his careful way back to the dock, where Cayo waited.

A violent curse nearly tore from Cayo’s mouth before he reined it in. He had tried to prepare himself, in the hours leading up to dawn, for the consequences of the Slum King’s wrath. But the reality was so much worse.

Sébastien was sallow and wan, his hair lacking its normal luster, and his clothes—or perhaps they were Philip’s clothes—hanging baggily on his frame. And then there was the linen bandage wrapped carefully around his head, hiding his eyes, or rather, where his eyes had once been. Although the bandage looked fresh, it was already stained with discharge, and the set of Bas’s shoulders told Cayo of the pain he was trying to hide.

Cayo felt unable to move, like the shock of being plunged into icy water. It was one thing to imagine violence; it was another to see its result, to have to accept the messy aftermath. And to imagine it being done to Bas…Cayo choked on a gasp, a hot flash of horror replacing the ice in his veins.

“Bas,” he finally whispered, reaching for his cheek without thinking. Bas flinched back at his touch, and Cayo dropped his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

“What are you doing here?” Sébastien’s voice was low and rough, as if he were recovering from a sleepless night in the Vice Sector.

“Philip told me you were leaving. I’ve been trying to find you for days. I knew what happened, but…”

“Yeah?” Bas spat. “Did you hear about it from your new fiancée? Am I supposed to congratulate you for marrying the daughter of the man who did this to me?” He pointed at his face.

Now it was Cayo’s turn to flinch. “It’s not like that! And how do you know about Romara?”

“Back-channel gossip. They may have taken my eyes, but they didn’t take my ears.”

“I…I didn’t know what he did to you until after I agreed to the engagement. Bas, I’m sorry. I know that isn’t enough, that it doesn’t really make a difference, but I am. I’m so sorry.”

Bas turned his head away, seething. Cayo could see it in the way his jaw clenched, in the way his fists shook at his sides. Cayo couldn’t stand that he was contributing to his pain, to his fury, to his spite for this city and the terrors that hid within it. He took a step forward, hand hovering in the air between them.

“I’m going to touch you again,” Cayo murmured. “Is that all right?”

Bas nodded stiffly. Cayo wrapped his hand around Bas’s wrist, feeling the strain there, the tendons pressed stark against his skin.

“What happened, Bas?” he whispered. “How did it get so bad? Was my help…Was it not enough?” It was all he’d had to spare at the time, but he should have done more.