Star Mother (Star Mother #1)(58)

I had some hope when we stumbled across the blacksmith, smoke rising from his bellows. I had been told the Parroses had left Endwever to pursue metalworking.

But the blacksmith was not a Parros, and the name was unfamiliar to him. He wasn’t even sure how many blacksmiths the city had. Was Nediah so large?

We wandered a little farther, and I found a woman selling warm sweet buns from a basket and used a bit of my precious coin to purchase one. Ristriel melded with the shadows until I returned, and then he walked by me once more, occasionally flashing solid when we passed under stone bridges that shut out the Sunlight. Beneath an especially large one, I finally did grab his hand, squeezing much too hard, but he didn’t so much as wince. He clasped my fingers tightly, until we passed the bridge and he became a spirit again.

The city spiraled upward like a conch, and the more we walked, the higher we climbed, the ground slowly elevating a bit at a time until I could see over the main wall. I stopped here and there, asking if anyone knew of the Parros family. Most willingly answered, all said no. Even Ristriel took to asking around, approaching those who looked less savory, who might take advantage of a lost woman. He gathered nothing of use, either, though he did get directions to a second blacksmith. The man’s forge was closed when we arrived, but a neighbor confirmed he was not a Parros, either.

The cobblestones were rougher than the natural Earth, and by the time evening settled over the city, my feet ached. I knew I had much of the city left to explore, that I should not give up yet, but my heart was heavy, and my ears buzzed with the noise of so many bodies. At least no one looked at me strangely, for in a place this large, strangers were common. At first, it was a relief not to be noticed. But after several hours, I began wishing someone would shout out, Star Mother! and cause a stir, and a crowd would form, and one of them would know about the Parroses who’d moved here so long ago, and who had graves in the local cemetery.

Instead of continuing to wind around the city, we cut through it by taking a stairway between high stone walls, wide enough for only one person to pass at a time. Ristriel walked behind me, encouraging me when I had to stop for a breath, pressing a hand into the small of my back, for like beneath the bridges, the stonework blotted out the Sun. I leaned into his touch, and not only because I was tired.

We emerged at the top of the hill-like city, the setting Sun bright, its golden rays washing over Nediah, and Ristriel’s touch evaporated. We had come out near the cathedral. I paused simply to gape at it, for it was the largest church I’d ever beheld, easily seven times the size of the one in Endwever. Its gray stone turned white the farther up it went, where the Sun had bleached it, and its golden spire was enormous—at least two stories, but it was hard to judge from the ground. I wondered how anyone had managed to get it up there. Fastened to the spire was a golden Sun, rays like waving daggers, without a face. It had to be the size of a house.

If there was anywhere that would help me, this was it.

I crossed the road toward the heavy double doors at the front. I was approaching the steps leading up to them when Ristriel spoke.

“Ceris.”

His hand was out, like he wanted to touch me. The Sun’s rays were so bright here I could see through him, despite his best efforts.

I quickly surveyed our surroundings. A few people milled about, but thus far, none had noticed him.

I gestured for him to come up the stairs, into the shade, but he shook his head. “I will wait for you out here. I dare not step into His house.”

“He isn’t here.” I pointed to the sky.

But the godling’s resolve didn’t waver. “I dare not risk it. Neither for myself, nor for you.”

Pressing my lips together, I forced myself to nod. I had never been timid, even as a child, but in this massive place, I desperately wanted Ristriel by my side. “I’ll be swift.”

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.