Star Mother (Star Mother #1)(62)

Or.

As I walked away from the cathedral, my bags weighing down my shoulders, my eyes dropped to my ring. I ran my thumb over its smooth surface. Twisted it on, to the amber band. Off to the black.

On, off. On, off, before dropping my hand, the band still set to black.

Or I could tell Saiyon I would come with Him and be, as He’d promised, a queen over all the beauty He’d shown me.

I did not think Saiyon had ever lied to me, but like Ristriel, He had certainly held back truths very pertinent to my existence. I did not love Him, but perhaps I could grow to. He was a noble being, bound by duty, and that was admirable. He had never been unkind to me. In fact, He seemed remarkably humble, for a god, like He, too, was weighed down by something unseen.

Just as Ristriel was.

I pushed thoughts of the godling from my mind.

Were those my only options, then? To find my sister’s descendants and make a place among them or to return to the arms of my child’s father? And yet if my kin did not accept me, that left only one choice.

No, it didn’t. I could travel the world. Sell my embroidery, live off charity, discover the places Ristriel had told me about, where giraffes lived and towers touched the clouds. I could return to Endwever, set my own rules, and live happily there, a beacon of hope for my people. I could, perhaps, not find myself in Saiyon’s bed, but in His employ, and in return see my daughter as often as possible. Find purpose, or at least peace, in her. For despite everything falling apart around me, one truth was immutable. I loved my daughter. I missed her terribly, and her absence was a dull ache in the back of my heart that could not be satiated by mere stargazing.

I mulled over these thoughts as Nediah awoke around me. Any smiling faces I encountered, any merchants I visited for food, I asked about the Parroses. Like yesterday, none were able to point me in a clear direction, though one woman walking a goat on a leash advised me to ask the local cartographer. It took me two hours to find his shop. It was locked, the windows dark. I banged my head against his door twice before breaking away and finding a place to sit on the curb. Someone limping by with a crutch asked me for money. I had little, but I always had the option of selling my spirituality to the cathedral, so I gave him a few coppers. The rest I would need to keep for the inn tonight. After that, I’d have to find something to sell.

I’d since trimmed my nails, but my hair was still especially long from the effects of Ristriel’s misuse of time. It was streaked with silver, but one could always dye it, if I needed something to sell.

My heart twisted, thinking of him. Thinking of his arms around me, before he confessed what he had done.

I wished I had never visited Agradaise’s coffin. I would rather have ignorance in peace than this confusion. This ache.

Sighing, I pulled myself onto sore feet and continued my search. I had made my way to the northwest side of the city, no closer to finding who I needed. I chose to forego dinner. If I was lucky, some bread or soup might be included with my room at the inn. If I could make it to the cathedral before dark, I might be able to remember where the stewardess had pointed.

Shopkeepers had begun to pack up their wares with the setting Sun when I found another long set of stairs to climb. I was about halfway up them when a jay flew over my head and landed on a rooftop ahead of me. It glimmered like the midnight sky.

My chest pulsed painfully, like my heart was the end of a flail.

“I’m not ready to speak with you.”

But the jay said, “I found them, Ceris.”

I paused, though the immature and petulant part of me wanted to give him a crude gesture and continue onward, uncaring. “The Parroses?”

The jay nodded. “They live about a mile from here.”

Old hope surged in my chest. However I wore my despair, I could not leave this stone unturned. Grasping the handles of my bags, I said, “Show me.”

Ristriel gave me a somber nod and flew ahead, as slowly as a bird could without losing the air beneath its wings. My sore feet forgotten, I hurried after him. It wasn’t until I’d covered a full mile that my thoughts whispered, Trickster. But despite his confession, I could not believe Ristriel would purposefully hurt me, so I followed him besides.

The throngs thinned, and the street I followed slimmed into an easy road, turning into a residential area of the city. Narrow houses packed each side of it, some sharing walls, some with spaces only as wide as a man’s shoulders in between. There had to be fifty in all.

Ristriel flew around the corner and landed atop the fourth house in the row. A wreath made from torn cloth knotted together hung from its door. I slowed as I neared it, out of breath, night descending around me.

I approached the door and stared at that wreath, wondering which of my practiced scenarios would present itself. I was under the eave, so I couldn’t tell if Ristriel was still there, or if he had flown away to leave me in peace. I wasn’t sure which scenario I preferred.

But surely he’d stayed nearby, in case this was the wrong home? In case they didn’t want me?

I glanced behind me, half expecting to see him there. The street remained empty.

Holding my breath, I rapped hard on the door. I wanted to make sure I was heard. Then I waited. The urge to weep overcame me, but I stuffed it down. I could not have their first impression be of me crying in the street, so I stood tall, adjusted my bags, tidied my hair.

Shuffling sounded from within, and a woman about ten years my senior opened the door.