Star Mother (Star Mother #1)(68)



He would not be able to defend us again.

My heart sickened as I opened the door.

But the commotion wasn’t one of fear. There were no un-Earthly weapons sailing toward the city wall or sparks or explosions in the sky. Argon and I turned toward the cathedral, where a massive pillar of flame burned.

A gasp like a man’s dying breath pulled from Argon’s throat.

“Gods above . . . another star mother is to be chosen from Nediah.”

But as I shielded daylight from my eyes and peered toward the massive cathedral, blood surging through my veins, mouth dry, I saw what Argon did not. “No, it’s not the torch. It’s the spire.”

The golden spire, something not made to burn, gleamed wildly against blue morning sky. A breeze passed, carrying its heat. The shrieks died down to silent awe. Neighbors stepped from their houses to gape. I heard footsteps, and Ruthgar came out behind us, followed by Quelline, who rubbed at the dark circles beneath her eyes.

“What does it mean?” Argon asked.

I let out a long, trembling breath. “It means the Sun wants to speak with me.”





CHAPTER 21

Saiyon knew I was there. The ring allowed Him to track me, and I had switched it on a couple of times, nervously fiddling with it, only a day ago. I doubted Saiyon would promenade into the city itself, though He didn’t seem to have any qualms about showcasing His power right inside its walls. I feared returning to Ristriel, in case I was being watched, though I kept my ring black. I was sure Saiyon had lit up the cathedral because it was a temple to Him, not because He knew Ristriel recuperated there. I was also sure this was a meeting I could not put off.

So I started for the city wall.

Quelline grabbed my sleeve. “W-Wait. The Sun?”

I nodded. “It isn’t the first time.” I tried not to let my own nerves hinder my voice. Placing a hand over Quelline’s, I added, “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt me.”

To my relief, I believed those words.

I insisted on going alone, and it was an easy, unimpeded walk, for everyone was going to the cathedral to talk about the star mother or whatever it was they thought the flames meant. I moved away from them, past the shops and markets, beyond the stone wall collapsed from the battle. I passed a farm, into pastures dotted far off with sheep, where I twisted my ring again, its center gleaming amber. I walked, and walked, and walked, until finally I’d put enough distance between Nediah and myself that the sky flashed and Saiyon appeared, blazing and golden, clothes billowing in a celestial wind.

The sky darkened slightly, a portion of its light siphoning down to create this image. He was not as bright as He’d been in His palace, and His eyes took on a more golden sheen than diamond, but they burned with restrained fury.

I switched off my ring.

“You are harboring a criminal.” It was not a question, but an accusation. His voice was deep and hard, His face stern and flat.

“You and Your war threaten the lives of thousands of mortals,” I spat back, hands on my hips. “Which problem would you prefer to discuss first?”

Saiyon scowled. “Celestial affairs are not your concern.”

“I believe a threat to my life and the lives of my family are very much my concern.”

He inhaled, bristling, then exhaled, defeated. “I was not aware you were here until recently. Very recently.”

I shook my head and folded my arms. “Did your soldiers tell you, or your bounty hunters?”

A growl sounded deep in His throat, reminding me of my first “lion” impression of Him. “He is a criminal and must pay for his crimes, Ceris.”

“And what did he do?” I asked, stepping closer to Him. I was angry, He was angry, and yet His heat didn’t flare. His hands didn’t move to strike. He had no desire to harm me. “Escape an unjust prison?”

I could tell by the opening of Saiyon’s face that He had not expected me to know that much. But His features immediately hardened. “He has broken eternal law. He tampered with time.”

“My time, but you failed to tell me such.”

He simmered.

“Have You not done the same?” I countered, trying to keep my voice even. If Saiyon was willing to temper Himself for my sake, I could do the same. “You held him against his will.”

The Sun God shook His head. “It is not against universal law to keep him.”

I flung my arms out. “No. You said—”

“I said mortals cannot be forced to do a god’s bidding.”

I ground my teeth together. “Mortal law does not permit you to hold someone against their will if they have done nothing wrong.”

Saiyon opened His mouth to retaliate, but I forced in, “Before his dealings with time, had he done anything wrong?”

Saiyon’s flames darkened. He was just as angry as I was. “He is not mortal.”

“And yet he lives among mortals.”

Saiyon scowled. “Mortality has no claim on him.”

“I have claim on him!” I snapped, and I might as well have taken Shu’s ivory spear and run Saiyon through with it. His expression melted into something painful. Only for a moment, for He was a god and had had tens of thousands of years to learn to school Himself into the semblance of omnipotence. But though I had seen the hurt, and I did not want to cause it, I did not regret my words.

Charlie N. Holmberg's Books