Star Mother (Star Mother #1)(58)

Ristriel managed a weak smile, then stepped away. Somewhere in the bright bands of evening Sun, he shifted, and a midnight butterfly swept around the cathedral’s far corner.

Steeling myself, I entered the cathedral, pulling back on the right door with all my weight to open it. The hinges were well oiled; no creaking announced my presence.

The cathedral was enormous, but otherwise quite similar to the others I’d visited. The aisles were wide, the floors made of granite, or perhaps marble, with long yellow carpets trailing their center. The nave was lined with enormous arches, the crest of each carved with a Sun. These Suns were simple, without faces, and had only six spokes. Suns and stars were carved into the columns as well, and at the columns’ bases, the image of a dark circle pierced with a sword. I wondered if that represented the moon.

A hymn rang through the halls. As I walked, I noticed a large children’s choir rehearsing. Perhaps one of them was a Parros, but I dared not interrupt their song. I saw no caretaker or priest, so I let myself wander, circling around the aisles, taking my time gazing at portraits and sculptures in the transept.

It was there I saw something that made my breath catch. A copper bust, turned turquoise, in a crystal case atop a podium, barred off by both a wooden railing and a velvet cord. It was a depiction of a woman, and a star was carved upon her brow.

I knew her immediately, before even reading her dedication.

Star mother.

I quickly read the engraved plate beneath her likeness. Her name was Agradaise, chosen by the Sun nearly five hundred years before I was. Chosen from Nediah.

And she was buried here as well.

Shivers coursed up my arms and down my legs. I whirled around, looking at the cathedral through new eyes, its aisles and arches suddenly like a maze I was trapped in. I retraced my steps as the choir started another song. Near the apse, I found a cleverly hidden passageway that led down into the cathedral’s basement.

Into the crypt.

I descended the stairs, the air growing significantly colder. Below, everything was solid, common stone. Large shelves had been carved into the wall, some holding coffins, others bearing exposed bones.

Agradaise was not hard to find. Her tomb was above the floor, in a fine coffin made from magnificent marble limned with gold. How far the people had gone to mine it, I couldn’t guess. It was raised on a stone dais, surrounded by the same golden cords protecting her likeness upstairs, though these were braided together to make them thicker. Like my statue in Endwever, the edges of the coffin were worn and smooth from the passing of thousands, if not millions, of hands. She had lain down here for twelve hundred years, after all.

“Agradaise,” I whispered, hoping I pronounced her name right. I would not think of lifting the lid—I would find a skeleton there, perhaps laid with a crown and glass roses. But I did lift my hand to the smooth marble edge of her casket. If I said her name to Saiyon, would He remember anything about her? How many star mothers had passed between her time and mine?

Running my fingers across the cool stone, I whispered, “Agradaise, I wish I had known you.”

And then my vision burned white.





CHAPTER 17


I was still in the cathedral. The stone remained firm under my feet. The musty smell lingered in my nose, and the chill slid beneath my clothes.

But my mind was elsewhere.

Everything around me was white and pearlescent, not unlike starlight. Not unlike Saiyon’s palace, for there was nothing, and yet at the same time everything. I could sense forms around me too bright to behold. I heard distant peals of laughter and something like birdsong but distinctly other. The presence of deities and spirits enfolded my skin like warm breaths.

It was so overwhelming, so utterly beautiful, I began to cry.

A figure broke away from the others and moved toward me, her visage just as bright as everything else, yet her form had more definition. Like she was allowing me to see past her glory, similar to what Saiyon did. Her face was comparable to the bust, but here it looked ageless, beautiful, without flaw or blemish. Without any of the cares of the world.

“I have heard of you, Ceris.” Her voice was music no mortal could hope to compose. “I would have liked to meet you.”

I blinked, but the tears continued to stream down my face, like I stared at Saiyon in His full power. “Are we not meeting now?”

She reached forward and touched my chin, though her fingers were insubstantial. “You are lovely and strong. You will look after our stars until we meet them again, won’t you?”

I realized at that moment, clear as dawn, that I was peeking into the great hereafter promised to star mothers, though I had not the power to fully behold it.

Reaching up, I wiped my sleeve across my eyes. But when I opened them again, the crypt surrounded me. The stone seemed so plain, so lifeless, compared to my vision. The marble I had just found exquisite seemed made of dust. Everything was too dark, too shadowed, too cold.

Even Saiyon’s palace could not compare to what I had seen, and now that it had been taken from me, I felt empty.

I pressed one palm, then another, against the coffin. “Agradaise?” I whispered, willing her to return. Grasping for another peek into that beautiful paradise surrounding her. Were my parents there, my sisters? Caen?

Nothing happened.

“Agradaise?” My voice echoed between the stone walls. Stepping over the yellow cords, I threw my body onto the coffin. Pressed my forehead to it. “Agradaise, come back! Please, I beg you. Answer my questions!”