Star Mother (Star Mother #1)(25)

To my relief, Telda nodded. “I don’t understand, not entirely. But you seem like a capable woman. You must be, for Him to choose you. If you went out on your own, I expect you had your reasons.”

A long sigh escaped me and fled through the twine screen of the window. “Thank you, Telda.”

“Of course. I’ve had my share of hardships. Sometimes all a person needs is a hand.” She stood. “I insist you stay one more night. We’ll tuck you away, and I’ll make sure Jude knows. I packed some lunch in case you woke.”

My stomach grumbled and my eyes watered. “Thank you.”



I went downstairs to eat. Telda told me more about her family and current events, patiently stopping each time I wasn’t familiar with a name or term, which was often. I helped her with her chores—any that didn’t involve me going outside—to show my gratitude, and the work loosened my sore muscles. When Jude came in from the farm, I greeted him warmly, and he offered to go into town in the morning to sell what little I had for coin. The most valuable item I’d brought with me was the compass, although I couldn’t decide which would benefit me more—to sell it or keep it—for it could also help me find Nediah.

When I asked if there was anyone in Terasta who might let me hire them as a guide and guard, both Jude and Telda looked doubtful, but he promised he would ask around. I felt terrible taking any more from the kind couple, but when Telda began packing me food for my trip, I couldn’t refuse. I had so little, and even if Jude successfully sold my few wares, I would need to be careful with my coin, especially if most of it would go toward a guide.

That night, I waited until the rest of the house quieted down before I took a candle and, holding the shoes Shila had given me in one hand, crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. I snuffed the candle and set it aside, then slipped on my shoes and slid out the back door. The scent of horses was heavy, even with a chilly breeze. I started walking, letting the light of a waxing crescent moon guide me. Its silver bands fell over a small shrine, about hip high, set a short ways from the house, made of carefully woven twigs and yarn, filled with tiny dolls carved from wood and a stale loaf of bread that had already made meals for at least one mouse. The shrine to the Earth Mother was not too different from the one that rested outside Caen’s home, and I paused to bow to it, showing respect to a goddess so critical to us, yet so easily overlooked.

Short clover covered the ground in abundance. A crooked fence to my left marked the grazing field for the animals. I walked straight ahead, ensuring I wouldn’t get lost, though the area was fairly open, the forest a narrow, dark swath in the distance. A lake shimmered halfway between the house and the woods, reflecting the moonlight.

Tilting my head back, I studied the stars, holding my breath as I searched, my hand twisting the ring on my finger. The sky was not as deep here on Earth. The stars were numerous and uncountable, but not in the way they had been in Sun’s domain. I couldn’t see their separate colors. I couldn’t see—

There. My eyes moved toward a tiny prick in the heavens, almost of their own accord. “Found you, little one,” I whispered.

The tiny star twinkled back.

I stared at my daughter a long time. The air grew cooler by the minute, but I wasn’t ready to return to the house. The walk had helped tire me out after my rest, but I still wasn’t sleepy. My emotions being pulled like taffy had done little to help ease my wakefulness.

“One step at a time,” I whispered to myself as I walked, grateful only a few clouds marked the sky, allowing me ample light from the moon and stars. It was strange. I had already given up my friends and family. I had made peace with that decision up in Sun’s palace. It was the hope that had awakened after I survived, and the death of it, that ached the most—and now that I wasn’t surrounded by worshipers, I felt it keenly. That, and the distance between myself and my child, though I had always known I wouldn’t hold a mortal babe in my arms. But a woman cannot help what her heart yearns for.

“You are a star mother.”

I started at the deep, crackly voice and turned back to the house, expecting to find a local, or perhaps someone from Endwever. But I was alone in the field, surrounded by wild grass and clover.

“I have never met one,” the voice continued.

I turned again, this time facing the lake. The water rippled as though a stone had been tossed into it, and as I watched, it shifted upward like clay in a potter’s hands, taking on the impression of a face. It surprised me, but I did not run. I had been around enough godlings in Sun’s palace not to fear this one.

“Godling of the lake.” I offered a curtsy.

“Not an inaccurate name.” The watery mouth moved as he spoke, but the voice didn’t stem from it. The risen water shifted left, then right, as though studying me. “He wouldn’t let you walk the Earth Mother . . . but no, you’ve already had your star. I can tell.”

His voice took on a pitying sound that reminded me of the looks Sun’s servants had given me so often after I arrived in their heaven. I touched my braided hair self-consciously.

“Is it so obvious?” I asked.

“You are bright,” the lake confirmed. “Starlight burns within you. But your shell is still mortal.”

Starlight. So that was what had scared the bandits away. “I was told I was not quite mortal.”