Star Mother (Star Mother #1)(42)

“You!” The first godling pointed a great spear at me, the tooth of some legendary monster bound to its haft. “Do you fight for the day or the night?”

Ristriel stepped between him and me, even as more godlings charged toward us. “We are not here for war. We only wish to pass!” he shouted back. He had to shout, or else not be heard over the crazed orchestra of battle haloing us.

The godling’s spear shifted to Ristriel, hovering inches from his nose. “You must fight. Or have you no loyalty?”

Gritting my teeth, I urged my body to darken, to cool, to extinguish, and slowly, like a Sunset, the starlight dimmed. That same strange hunger from before—a sensation I hadn’t been in the right mind to dwell on—crept up my limbs. It was not a want for food, but something . . . missing.

“We have no qualms with you.” Ristriel didn’t even flinch as the stout godling turned around and cut through another creature sneaking up on him. My view of the beings grew dimmer and dimmer as I sucked in my starlight. “She is blessed of the Sun. Let us go.”

The last thing I saw before my light vanished was a cruel grin on the red godling’s face. “Ah, but I see her darkness in you.”

And he struck.

“Ristriel!” I cried as his body knocked back into me, sending me onto my backside. Another explosion lit the heavens, a battle too far away for me to see, let alone reach. My thoughts flashed to Sun. He was up there, wasn’t He? Fighting for His kingdom, His powers, His people. Did it make Him weak, battling within the moon’s kingdom?

I did not have long to wonder. The trailing, mystical light from the explosion helped me make out two silhouettes—Ristriel and the red godling—grappling with each other. Ristriel was smaller by half, but he was not easily thrown aside. He shoved away the godling only to intercept another, and another, until I could not tell his shadow from the rest.

My heart raced inside me. I pushed onto my knees, only to cower when some sort of enormous bird cawed over my head, diving into the fray. I could not leave Ristriel to fend for himself, but neither could I fight.

Desperate, I scrambled over the Earth, searching for stones to throw. My fingers grazed a palm-sized one when a shadow whisked across my hand. I thought it was another flying godling, but when I looked up, the shadows all around me warped, gray against black, coming alive, defying the light of the stars. The shadows surged into the fray, lassoing around the necks of godlings or whipping at their legs. Warriors turned around to strike, only to be engulfed.

Another explosion rent the sky, this one like a full bloom, orange and blue like true fire. I saw Ristriel speed away from the godlings faster even than his war stallion form could move, then rush back in so swiftly he blurred. A horned godling took off after him.

Fear-fueled energy pumping through my limbs, I wheeled my arm around and threw my rock. It sailed true, striking the horned godling on the back of its head.

Behind me, a snakelike voice hissed, “Do you fight for the day or the night?”

Grabbing the handle of my bag, I whirled around, letting its heavy load smash into the head of a gargoyle-like godling that reached no higher than midthigh. It flew two feet and hissed, shaking its head, trying to orient itself for a counterattack.

I ran.

The field lit and darkened over and over with the battle of the gods, all the while festering as godlings rained from the sky or wriggled from the ground, some armed with weapons, others wielding their own hands and feet. My starlight pressed against my skin, urging me to unleash it, but I forced it down. I needed to see what warriors stood in my path, yet I dared not draw attention to myself.

There were so many of them, I couldn’t find a clear way out.

A godling noticed me and rushed for me. Biting down on a scream, I darted in a different direction until he called, “Ceris!”

I wheeled around as Ristriel crashed into me, his arms enfolding me and pulling me tightly to him. We fell and froze, the ground inches away.

And everything changed.

The grasses shifted with a dozen breezes. The sky brightened and darkened, colored and blackened, all too quickly to be natural. The shadows and faces around me distorted, blurring or disappearing entirely, only for new ones to appear, shrink, and vanish. The Sun whisked across the sky in a fiery streak again and again, until noon daylight washed over the field, the battle was over, and everything went still.

I hit the ground, dazed and confused. Ristriel, ethereal and looming over me, stared wildly into my eyes.

My breaths came deep and sharp, my body still recovering from its run. I stared back at him, so many questions pulsing in my mind. His ghostly nose hovered inches above mine. His chest heaved like any man’s would, even without solid lungs, blood, bone. Had his hair been solid, it would have brushed my brow. And his eyes—his eyes were wide and fierce, darker than new ink and as insubstantial as cloud.

What had just happened? Where were the other godlings?

Why was it midday?

But Ristriel, still as shadow, whispered, “It’s . . . yours.”

It took a moment for his words to register, for his presence to make sense, for my body to feel mine, and the world to feel whole. “What did you do?”

He pushed away from me, curling into a crouch, still staring at me, the emotions on his face very much mirroring my own. His body warped for a moment, like it wanted to transform, but he snapped it back into human shape again. And me . . . My nails were long, my hair was long, reaching past my hips. The grass below me was dead and curled like it had been cast into a fire and hastily pulled back out. The blades beside it were as tall as my shoulders, while the rest of the field was just as it should have been.