Star Mother (Star Mother #1)(64)

I set down my spoon, my appetite suddenly gone.

What was it that I wanted? My time back? A promise of paradise?

A fugitive godling who smelled of winter and shrunk in Sunlight?

Reaching over the table, Quelline set her hand upon mine. “I’m sure Surril is lovely.”

To Yanla, Argon asked, “Where’s that spyglass?”

And then the room went dark, and thunder rolled through the sky.

My heart launched into my throat. Little Ceris shrieked. Quelline and Ruthgar both scrambled for candles. I stood, my appetite suddenly gone. I knew that sound. I’d heard it once before, in a field near Tarnos, when the moon had vanished from the sky.

“Gods help us,” Yanla whispered.

Ruthgar snapped, “Gods are the problem.”

I turned to Quelline, who said, “It’s the war. The gods are feuding.” So it had reached even Nediah, then.

Argon murmured, “Maybe it’s real thunder this time.”

“Third time it’s happened,” Quelline whispered, even as I heard running feet in the street outside. Not simply fleeing citizens, but heavy steps, clinking with armor. I thought of the guards I’d seen earlier and rushed to the window, though the view was poor from the house.

“Before,” Quelline continued, “it was far off. We just saw lights in the sky. The next time it was closer. We saw the lightning, the fire. The Sun and moon, warring for the sky.”

Ruthgar shook his head. “Storms. Just storms.” He sounded as though he were trying to believe his own words.

I wrenched the door open and stepped outside, both startled and relieved to see Ristriel there, standing as a man, staring up at the sky. “Ris!”

“They are celestials.” Ristriel responded as though he had heard the others’ conversation, and perhaps he had. His tone was matter-of-fact. “They were created in opposition to one another, and Moon has never been happy with less. The workings of mortals are beneath them.” He glanced from me to the Parroses crowding behind me. “They will tear this city apart.”

Yanla fainted. Argon didn’t move fast enough to catch her, but he grabbed her arm, slowing her descent to the floor.

“You’re still here,” I whispered, my insides twisting in a different pattern.

Quelline was frozen as a game piece. She said something, but I couldn’t hear it over the boom overhead, so loud I had to cover my ears. My teeth clanked against each other. The noise rattled from my skull to my toes.

I ran out into the street, Quelline shouting after me, and stared up at the dark sky overhead, seeing the residue of a silvery explosion; perhaps the collision of celestial godlings far beyond what my mortal eyes could see.

A colorful blast that reminded me of the space clouds Saiyon had shown me burst to the west, just beyond the city wall. Distant screams followed.

“Saiyon!” I screamed into the sky, hands forming fists at my sides. “Saiyon, stop it!”

But of course He couldn’t hear me.

Thunder rolled. A red streak like angry lightning rent the sky. I searched for Surril, but the smoke and clouds and lights hid her from my eyes.

At least the stars were too far away to be affected by this. We, unfortunately, were not.

Another boom! hit. I didn’t see color or light, but the ground beneath my feet shook, and I toppled sideways, nearly hitting the cobblestones. A hand grabbed my elbow, righting me.

Ristriel.

He watched the sky, the lights of war reflecting off his dark irises. Quelline remained in the doorway, Ruthgar just behind her.

Ristriel’s earlier words rang in my memory. They will tear this city apart.

“Why here?” I whispered. “Have they followed us again?”

Ristriel shook his head. “The gods war throughout the heavens. It is happenstance that we see this one.” He pressed his lips together. After a beat, he added, “They are not concerned with the Earth Mother.”

“We have to lead them away,” I whispered. “Somehow. Away from the city.”

“They do not care about either of us.” Ristriel turned from the light show. “They will not notice.”

He took a step down the road, and then another, until I caught his forearm.

“Where are you going?” Fear strained my words.

He looked past me to my family, standing in the doorway. To other faces pressed to the windows surrounding us, watching the celestial war with open terror. The city rumbled, and another far-off spark lit the sky.

“To protect the city,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “No. We’ll run. We can make it out—”

He broke from my grasp, taking my hand and interlacing our fingers. “If I am to pass as a mortal”—he looked into my eyes, and I fell into his—“I must heed the lessons you’ve given me.”

“Ris—”

“Protect those weaker than myself.” He smiled softly. Raised his free hand and drew a knuckle down the side of my cheek. “Everyone here is weaker. I will keep you safe. I promised.”

Tears clouding my vision, I shook my head. “No. You kept your bargain. You brought me to Nediah. You don’t have to keep me safe anymore.” My chest heaved as though I had run a mile. Fear clawed at me, anxiety that if he left, I would never see him again.

I realized in that moment that what I wanted more than anything was to have him by my side. To run with him through meadows and listen to his stories, as he listened to mine. To banter about needlepoint and discover the creations of the Earth Mother.