Star Mother (Star Mother #1)(46)

Pulling back, I looked at her face. “All of us?”

“You are a star mother,” she chimed. “You have stayed with us when others could not. You are mother to all of us.”

She gestured outward, and the stars around us twinkled and shifted, as though waving to me, reaching out with pearly fingers. At that moment, with my daughter clasped tightly to my chest, I was the happiest I had ever been. Never would I wish to go back and be what I had been—a mortal girl with a normal life ahead of her—for it would mean Surril was not mine, and she was my everything.

Surril grinned at me and ran her soft hand across my cheek, then shifted her gaze to Ristriel. “You should not be here. They’ll find you.”

Ristriel had floated some distance away. He seemed thinner, and his skin was ashen as though he were sick. But of course he was—Surril beamed with starlight. Expression serious, he nodded.

He looked behind him to a place I could not see, but what I assumed was the Earth Mother. “I believe they already have.”

My light dimmed. “Who? Your pursuers?”

He nodded. Such a spectacular show of power—taking me up into the heavens themselves—could not be easy to hide. It was the same reason Sun could not risk Himself, not when the court of the moon battled against Him. Ristriel must have known it, and yet he had brought me anyway, simply because I had asked.

I swallowed. “Does the starlight not hide you?”

Surril answered, “Not here, Mother.” She kissed my chin. “I will watch over you always and burn in your heart. But if you want him, you must go.”

I turned to Ristriel. He shook his head, as though telling me to take my time. Acting as though it would not hurt him if I did.

I did not want to leave this place. I did not want to peel away from my daughter’s side. But even absent the war and Ristriel’s pursuers, I could not stay forever. I was still mortal enough that I could not live among the stars.

If you want him.

Ristriel was shriveling before my eyes. Sacrificing himself for me, for these brief moments of happiness with my daughter.

Quieting my own light, I kissed Surril and released her. Floating toward Ristriel, I outstretched my hand. “Let’s run, Ristriel.”

His too-thin fingers wove through mine, and we were flying again, stars streaking past us. I clung to him as our surroundings shifted, as we fell back toward Earth, my face tucked against his neck, his arms tight against my back. The farther we moved from the stars, the more whole he became, filling out, solidifying, until he was the only real thing around me. An anchor in the gaping expanse of space.

Our deal had been my protection for his guidance. And yet he had risked his safety, his life, to make me happy. He was more than kind. He was inspiring. Loyal, thoughtful, mysterious.

I clung to him as the Earth rushed up to meet us, never once doubting that we would land whole. Because I did want him. He had promised I would never be alone, not while he existed, and I wanted to believe it—and was terrified it might be a trick that would break me. For Ristriel was a godling I did not yet understand, and although I wasn’t wholly mortal, I carried in me the fears of one.

But one thing was becoming certain: the thought of Ristriel leaving me behind, in Nediah or elsewhere, roused a misery in me I did not think I could face.





CHAPTER 14

We landed in the shadows behind the barn; a long strip of clouds had covered the moon. In my mind, I heard the distant galloping of otherly creatures coming for us, a sound like a bad taste on the back of my tongue. It was something I was sure I would have missed, had I been wholly mortal.

They were coming for him.

“Get your things, quickly,” Ristriel urged.

“But the moon will come out soon.” I gestured to our right, away from the barn. “You can conceal yourself in my pocket again.”

He hesitated half a heartbeat. “If they are the same hunters, they will find it odd that they’ve crossed your path a second time.

You might be putting yourself in danger.”

I swallowed. “But I’m a star mother.”

Grabbing my hand, Ristriel twisted my ring so the amber stripe shone again. “And the Sun is not here.”

I looked at our entwined hands. At my ring. At his strained expression.

Throwing my skirt over my arm, I ran into the barn and scaled the ladder to the loft.

I shoved my tapestry supplies into the lighter bag and practically jumped back down. Ristriel was there, looking out the barn window.

“This would have worked better if I were a horse,” he mumbled before turning his back to me and crouching, “but let me carry you.

We’ll go faster.”

“But the moonlight—”

“I will not drop you.”

Taking a deep breath, I secured my bags across my shoulders, stepped behind him, and put my arms around his neck. Where Sun was hot and fiery and all encompassing, Ristriel was cool and firm and steady. Hands grabbing my thighs, he stood, jerking upward once to situate me above his hips. I flushed, both from the touch and the embarrassment of being carried like a little girl.

When he turned to speak to me, I kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for taking me,” I whispered.

He had tensed when my lips touched his skin, but his rigidity fell away at my words. “Hold on tightly.”