Page 26 of A Legacy of Stars (The Lost God Legacies)

26

STELLA

W ind whistled through the boughs high above Stella. Gray clouds peeked through the lush summer canopy. A storm was threatening.

Teddy walked ahead of her, his pace so quick that Stella practically had to jog to keep up with him. “I don’t like the idea of splitting up,” he said. “Especially after yesterday.”

“You saw the map, Your Grace . The caves are close enough. It won’t be a big deal for us to split up. It’s only a couple of miles between the two. Besides, we don’t have enough time to wait until you’re finished with your trial. Our swim cost us enough time already and the memory trial could take hours. We both need to finish as soon as possible so we can make it home before the challenge deadline.” Stella stumbled over a root, barely catching herself before she bumped into Teddy. “You’re walking awfully purposely for being in the middle of the woods.”

“There’s a bad storm coming. I can feel it. And there’s an old hunters’ hideaway up ahead,” Teddy said. “From the war.”

Dry leaves in the underbrush kicked up and Stella’s braid whipped against the side of her face as the sky swirled with heavy charcoal clouds. She loved the scent of the northern forest in a storm—like pine and damp moss and the smell before rain.

Stella heaved a breath, quickening her pace to keep up with Teddy. Her side was perfectly healed thanks to Teddy’s hard work, but even with healing magic, the ache of the injury would linger for a few days and she felt it every time she took a deep breath. She looked forward to paying Rett back.

“How do you know where you’re going?”

Teddy glanced at her over his shoulder. “I’m not sure our alliance goes as deep as sharing kingdom secrets.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “As if my parents didn’t help yours keep your precious kingdom.”

Teddy stopped so suddenly that she almost ran into his back. He curled an arm around her hip, avoiding the ache on her ribs.

The bond in her chest flared with warmth and Teddy shifted like he felt it too. Since the night before, she felt hyperaware of him and his proximity, of the hint of his woodsy-citrus scent that lingered on her skin.

A shiver ran through her body as she remembered the heights to which he’d brought her body. The whiplash of being so gravely injured to feeling more vibrantly alive than she ever had was disorienting. She’d been out of step all day, and the fact that the score was unsettled between them made her even more uneasy. He’d saved her from the assassin in town; she’d saved him from the river. Then, he’d saved her from the wound Rett had delivered and kept it from getting infected.

She couldn’t quite name the gnarled feelings inside her chest. The messy tangle seemed less a result of their bond and more a result of his actions. Teddy was brave and decisive in a fight, gentle and soft when she needed it, and alarmingly sexy without trying. Her old contempt had morphed into affection, and she wasn’t sure what that meant for her—for them.

Teddy’s hand skimmed her hip and her mind went back to being woken early that morning, to his gentle hands on her side—to the soothing feeling of him healing her wound. To wishing he’d done more.

Stella shook off the thought. The new intimacy between them was so disorienting.

Teddy pointed to a tree, and she followed the line to a dark brand a good ten feet up the trunk.

“Anyone can read a map if it’s stolen. The Argarian hunter bases were always marked in broad areas on maps. But to be able to find them, you follow the crest burned into the walnut trees.”

“There are tons of trees,” Stella said.

Teddy grinned. “But very few walnut. They are intentionally pruned back near these sites, and they are the only trees with markings.” He turned to meet her gaze. “Now that I’ve shared a secret, perhaps I should get one in exchange.”

His tone was teasing, but Stella didn’t know what to do with this playful version of him. They hadn’t spoken at all about the previous night, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to put the memory completely out of her head or relive it over and over.

He smirked as if reading the direction of her thoughts. “I hesitate to say the next part. I don’t want you to fall any more in love with me than you did after last night.”

She shoved him away. “Don’t flatter yourself. I had an okay time.”

He scoffed. “An okay time. Stella, I think I have permanent indentations on my shoulders from your heels digging in when I made you?—”

“Enough!” Stella held up her hand as if she could block the memory.

Teddy offered a smug grin. “This base has a bathing chamber.”

Stella couldn’t hide her relief. She hadn’t had time to bathe that morning and, despite the cooler temperature as they hiked, it was hard work. Her body was still exhausted from channeling so much magic and energy the day before. The blood loss alone was enough to make her want to lie down on the forest floor and take a nap.

Teddy strolled away, moving through the trees as if returning somewhere he’d been a hundred times before .

Finally, he came to a stop next to a huge outcropping of boulders. “The bath is back there.”

Stella glanced around but could not see a single building or structure large enough to hide a bathing chamber. “But where is the actual shelter?”

Teddy pointed up.

Sure enough, a good thirty feet above them was a small structure tucked into the branches of a sturdy oak tree.

“A treehouse!”

Teddy grinned at her delight. “It’s a small hideout, but there are a few like it throughout the region. This one is my favorite.”

“You learned this in training?”

He nodded, something like pride shining in his eyes. “Isla encouraged my father to have me go through hunter training. She thought the army would respect a king who went through the same training as his soldiers more than one who didn’t. My father agreed.”

“Wise of them,” Stella said. “That must have been hard.”

Teddy shrugged a shoulder and pointed to a rung hammered into the tree’s trunk. “When you finish bathing, just climb up these rungs. They wind around the tree, so they aren’t as easy to spot. Just be careful climbing up.”

Stella nodded and watched him easily ascend the tree before she ducked around the rock alcove. The bathing tub was tucked away and covered in a sheen of dust, but was in remarkably good shape. It must have still been occasionally used by huntsmen on patrol. She pumped water into the basin and rinsed away the dust, then unplugged the drain that let the water funnel out the side of the tub. When it was empty, she pumped in fresh water.

Her side protested the work of drawing the bath, but she wanted to be clean more than she wanted the pain to stop.

When the tub was full, she called up her fire magic. It was weaker than usual and required more urging than she was used to, but soon her hands were scalding, and she stuck them in the tub. Slowly, she moved her hands through the water until it was steaming hot. It was an unnecessary indulgence, but her body had been through so much in the past day and she wanted just a few moments of luxury after being cold and sweaty.

Stripping off her clothes, she lowered herself into the hot water, groaning at the divine feeling of being pleasantly warm for the first time all day.

The sun was setting, and soon it would be cold enough to see her breath. Much as she wanted to stay in the tub until the water was cold, she quickly washed her hair and body. Rising from the bath much sooner than she hoped, she patted herself dry with a linen towel they’d stolen from the cabin and wrapped her hair.

Stella hesitated, trying to decide what to dress in and opting to wear the shirt Teddy had loaned her. It wasn’t that she wanted to wear something of his, but more that she didn’t want to dirty another set of her clothes yet. She’d already slept in the shirt the previous night, so it just made sense.

It had nothing to do with the fact that the shirt smelled like him and that she liked the way Teddy looked at her when she wore it—with possessive satisfaction in his eyes. She didn’t want to belong to him, but she liked how wanted that look made her feel.

Stella slipped socks and boots on, hooked her bag and weapons over her shoulder, and started to scale the tree. It was slow going as she climbed and learned the constantly shifting rung pattern. It was harder to see the new rungs as she ascended into the dark canopy.

Finally, she reached the opening to the treehouse. Her side ached as she reached up and pulled her body onto the platform.

She glanced around the space. The ceiling was at least seven feet high at the center of the room, but it sloped down at the sides. The wooden planks of the roof formed a pattern that made her a bit dizzy. A large bed sat on the far side of the room and four smaller bunks lined the walls.

Rain began to drum against the roof. The storm came on all at once and the soft patter turned into a roar.

The sound was soothing. Stella yawned and stretched, her side pinching in pain .

Teddy grinned at her from the edge of the larger bed. “Tired already? I thought you were in better shape.”

Stella scowled at him. “I was in fine shape in the river yesterday. Forgive me for being wrung out after all of that.”

His brows shot up. It was the wrong choice of words. He seemed to notice her attire at that exact moment; his gaze slowly dragged down her body like a caress, coming to rest on her bare legs. “Quite an outfit.”

“I didn’t want to dirty fresh clothes until tomorrow. I only have one set left.”

He arched a brow. “If you say so. I thought they all got a good cleaning in the river.” Teddy stood and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it onto the bed. “Sorry, I claimed the captain’s quarters. You’ll have to take one of the bunks.”

Stella rose to her feet and tossed her bag onto the closest bunk. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Teddy laughed, opened the trapdoor, and descended into the nearly dark forest.

The treehouse was small but neat. On the far side of the room, there was a large glass lookout window that had a beautiful view of the valley below them through the branches. A small table was pushed beneath the window with a cabinet of dry food beneath it and several books tucked onto the shelf next to the meek provisions.

Stella set her short swords on the table and rifled through the pantry. She wasn’t hungry, as they’d had a big lunch of two large rabbits Teddy had managed to catch and wild mushrooms he had foraged, but she was hoping for sweets. She’d only been away from Olney a few days, but she was already missing her father’s baking.

She glanced at the large bed Teddy had claimed. There, in the center of it, was a piece of paper and a pile of wild berries. Stella crossed the room and lifted the paper.

For your sweet craving.

Stella stared at the note as she popped a berry into her mouth. The juice was sweet and bright and she savored the treat.

He knew her well enough to read her cravings and to choose blackberries—her favorite. Teddy was so attentive. Alarmingly so. She’d like to blame the bond, but then she remembered how he’d known that daisies were her favorite flower, and how at lunch he’d left all of the mushrooms he knew she’d liked best for her.

The storm rattled the treehouse window. She wondered if Teddy liked being out in the chaos of it. He seemed to like being in this space, almost like he was reliving something nostalgic.

It was disconcerting, the way that the vision of Teddy she’d carried in her head for so long did not match who he was in real life. She had assumed that Teddy’s life was very charmed, but it must have been difficult to go through training with people who were looking for any chance to humble him. He’d been sweet when they were young, but that seemed so long ago. He’d been so cold to her the past few years, and between that coldness and their incessant volley of pranks, her own judgment crept in. After spending so much time with him, she had a new appreciation for the way the burden of expectation had shaped him.

Stripped of the prying eyes of court, he was thoughtful, resourceful, and warm. All qualities she’d thought him devoid of. He had seemed the black sheep among his less serious siblings, but now it was easy to see that he fit in with them perfectly and that his sternness around them was born out of protectiveness and concern for their reputations. He’d never had the option of not worrying about appearances. Of course he didn’t know how to relax.

Stella pulled her clothing out of her bag and took inventory. Everything had been dried and neatly folded, undergarments included, when she woke up that morning. Something about seeing her clothing neatly organized by a prince made her feel uneasy. The familiar territory between the two of them was now uncharted, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to go back to how things were or charge into this new, unknown place.

Beneath the raging storm, Stella was suddenly aware of something more than the wind howling.

Death whispers.

Stella stilled, and a terrible, cold knowing settled in her bones. She jumped to her feet, yanking on her dagger-filled vest, only taking the time to fasten one strap, and belting her short swords at her waist.

She took the rungs down at a reckless speed, ignoring the tearing of the wind and the terrifying heaviness of the dark. Her heart was in her throat as she felt blindly for foot- and handholds. When she finally jumped the last few feet to the ground, Teddy’s panic hit her in the chest.

It could be the Roach and his friends finally coming to finish the job. Of course, that would only make sense if they also had to retrieve their memories from nearby caves. Otherwise, they’d be wasting precious time.

She squinted against the icy driving rain and forced herself to move slowly so as not to trip or make extra noise in the dark.

She paused at the edge of the stone for a moment and listened. The death whispers were swelling by the second, becoming more insistent and drowning out everything but the storm.

As Stella rounded the corner, she caught sight of a man dressed in black, a red Sons of Endros symbol embroidered on the back of his armor.

Sheets of rain blew underneath the stone overhangs, but the man didn’t move. He was focused on a second man who had a cord around Teddy’s throat.

Teddy flailed, his legs splashing in the bathwater, his hands wedged between the cord and his skin.

Stella drew a blade from her vest and sent it sailing toward the chest of Teddy’s attacker. She didn’t have time to see if it struck. The struggle stopped, and in the split second of silence, Stella heard a third assassin behind her. She drew her short swords and spun toward him.

The man’s face was half-covered, just like the assassin she’d fought in the streets of Olney several nights earlier.

“Lady McKay,” he said menacingly. “A two-for-one deal, is it? Royal prick and his whore.”

“Nice that you know my name. Care to share yours?” Stella asked, slipping her sword up to slice at his face covering. “Perhaps the name of whoever sent you?”

“What makes you think it wasn’t the god himself?” the assassin taunted.

“Endros doesn’t answer prayers,” Stella said.

Stella was vaguely aware of the other assassins watching them closely. These men were just waiting to pick her off. It didn’t matter if she was tired of fighting. They’d left her no choice.

The assassin came at her hard. He was broad and strong. She blocked a sweeping overhead attack. The strike rattled down her arms and she felt every bit of the previous day’s blood loss, but for all the fighter’s bulk and skill, he was too slow. His movements were precise in the way of someone who understood moves and countermoves but had practiced a perfect sequence over and over without trying variables.

She tested him with slight deviations in movement as they parried a few times. He had a habit of looking where he was going to move next. It would have been less obvious if the bottom half of his face wasn’t covered, but the only places she could search for tells were his eyes. It was a common battle habit, one her mother had trained out of her.

While her father’s training had been full of precision and skill and strength, her mother’s had consisted of how to fight someone who was bigger than you and how to trust senses other than sight. She’d made Stella spar blindfolded until she learned to read movements through touch and sound.

Stella twisted away from the attacker. Just as she’d hoped he would, he stepped forward. She spun the blade in her hand and plunged it backward, right through her attacker’s breastplate. She shoved the blade up and twisted, meeting so little resistance that she worried she’d done it wrong. But when she pulled her blade free, blood poured out of the assassin’s mouth and chest. He made a choked sound as he fell to his knees and then onto his side. By the time he was on his back, his sightless eyes stared back at her .

She couldn’t breathe. All the air rushed out of her lungs. Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears.

It was exactly as her mother had once told her. The most dangerous person in the room was the one who was willing. Most fights were about size, strength, and skill, but for the first time, Stella understood that it wasn’t just survival that was the great equalizer. It was a threat to someone you wanted to protect.

She felt the air shift with the slide of the next assassin’s sword before she heard it. She rolled her shoulder back at the last second and the blade skimmed her vest, leaving a gouge down the front of the fine leather. This fight needed to end fast.

It was only some innate animal instinct to survive that kept Stella moving, that sent her charging toward this new adversary as if she laid waste to villains regularly. She crossed her short swords and blocked the swipe of his left blade, slicing across his wrist.

Stella slammed her shoulder into his chest, and he stumbled back, throwing up his right blade. She anticipated the movement, the cause and effect of battle like a complicated puzzle that came together in her mind a second before it happened in real life. Moments like that always felt to her like she was animated by something other—some uncanny and innate talent for violence that she hadn’t quite earned.

She parried with her left sword and spun toward him as she turned, cutting his throat with her right blade. Blood sprayed across her face and hands, but she kept turning as a fourth man charged at her from the bushes.

There was no thought left in her head, just pure instinct. She finally understood what her father had meant when he’d called it a complicated dance. Her body knew every movement, but instead of following as she did on the dance floor, she led. She crossed her short swords to block a heavy-handed cut, then shoved her elbow up into the man’s chin. His head snapped back, and she spun, sliding her crossed blades up to deflect his blow and drawing them both across the man’s throat.

He dropped in a bloody heap, and Stella stared at him. There was no one else coming at her. Something in her chest released, and she was finally able to draw a deep breath again.

She turned and glanced at Teddy, who stood panting with nothing but a bright red line on his neck where the thin rope had been. The man who had been choking him was in a heap at his feet.

Stella stared down at the bodies crumpled around her.

She thought it would be hard to kill, but it had been remarkably easy. Survival was an instinct, but still, she couldn’t draw her eyes away from the carnage. Killing was as easy as breathing, and she felt nothing.

She was vaguely aware of Teddy’s voice, of the rain pelting her face, of the wind lashing at her hair.

“Stella! Don’t look at them. Look at me. Look at my eyes.”

The world was half-dark from the clouds, but Teddy’s eyes were still bright and golden—a beacon in the storm.

“Good. Now listen to me. Those men were assassins, and they would have killed you if you’d given them the chance. You did what you had to do.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled up her throat. “What I had to do? I had to kill three out of four of them without breaking a sweat.”

“It was a sight to behold, if I’m honest.” His eyes flicked down to the drenched shirt plastered to her skin. It was entirely transparent and speckled with blood.

She frowned. “It was horrifying.”

“It was necessary .” Teddy’s voice was deep and firm and full of certainty. He took her swords from her hands and awkwardly fed them back into their sheaths at her hips.

Stella stared at her palms as the pouring rain turned the bright red blood a paler pink by the second.

She felt at once like she’d lost something vital and gained something awful.

Teddy’s hands were warm on her cold cheeks. “You were so beautiful. I have never seen someone fight like that.”

Stella had always thought she was more like her mother, and she was angry at being so soft. But looking at her blood-stained hands, she wondered if she had more of her father than she’d thought and she’d just never experienced the circumstances that brought out that side of her.

She’d seen her father fight in several swordsmanship tournaments, but the stakes of those contests were just bragging rights. It was always obvious he was holding back—swiping to maim and not to kill.

Once, she’d heard a man describing Rainer McKay in battle as supernaturally efficient in his ability to read the shifting tides of a fight and tilt the field his way. He’d called her father a skilled and efficient executioner.

Do I have that same killer instinct?

She hadn’t expected it to be so easy . She’d known it was a possibility—even a probability—when she entered herself into the Gauntlet Games, but she thought she’d see it coming.

Stella was aware of the storm raging around them, but she could barely hear it. She was focused on Teddy’s face and on the pounding of her heart, which didn’t seem to register that the fight was over.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re just in shock. We need to get you inside and warm you up.”

“Can’t you stop the storm?” she mumbled.

He shook his head. “It would take too much magic and I just spent the better part of what I’d replenished. I’ll need it if any other assassins come along.”

Stella looked around the forest for any other attackers. Lightning flashed in the sky above them. She tipped her head back, letting the rain wash over her like it could wash away her sins. Her magic prickled restlessly at the tips of her fingers. Fire wouldn’t work out here, but she could pull on the storm or rage alongside it.

“ Stella .” Teddy’s voice dragged her back from the cliff of her mind. “Climb back up to the treehouse. You can do that, right? I will take care of the bodies.”

Bodies . Bodies she had made with her two swords.

Stella turned away from him and trudged through the mud to the base of the tree. She pulled herself up rung by rung, happy to have something rhythmic to focus on.

When she got to the top and dragged her chilled body over the ledge into the treehouse, she lay on the floor, staring up at the beams of the roof. She lifted her hands to look at them in the lantern light and was stunned to see that the rain had washed all the blood away. It was like it had never happened.

Stella lay there looking at her palms for several long breaths, listening to the rain pounding against the treehouse roof and the telltale rhythmic dripping of a leak somewhere in the far corner of the room. Finally, she forced herself to crawl over to her bunk. She pulled the shabby quilt around her body as the trembling began anew.