Page 10 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

Seven

TO LOVE IS TO BURN

AFTER SEVERAL MINUTES of Sol staring at the Wielders in silence and Nina looking like she might hurl, Lora finally pulled her aside.

They stepped outside to the front yard, where the morning sun was beginning to shine overhead, drying the left-over nighttime rain. Townsfolk filtered in and out of the shops around them, some familiar faces sending them smiles and waves.

A pang of sadness hit Sol as she smiled back.

She wouldn’t see her people again, wouldn’t feel the saltwater breeze on her walks at the beach. She wouldn’t be able to visit her mother’s grave, and as her death anniversary approached, that last realization cut the deepest.

Sol stopped on the street and faced Lora, “I’m not leaving. I don’t care who they think I am or who my mother was, this is my home.”

Her aunt reached into the pocket of her sweater. “Okay, Sol. Read this.” She handed the worn piece of parchment to Sol. “If you still don’t want to go after, I will respect it.”

The parchment crinkled in Sol’s hands, and the slight smell of lavender made her memories stir. “What is this?”

“Your mother left it for you. In case this exact scenario happened, and she was no longer…around.”

Sol blinked at the letter, holding it a little tighter. “I—”

“Read it, dove.” Lora urged her forward, toward the docks. “Go. Then make your decision.”

And although she should’ve feared the ocean after the night before, Sol clutched the letter to her chest and held her tears all the way to the shore.

SAWYER

SAWYER DIDN’T PARTICULARLY like Yavenharrow. It was humid and reeked slightly of fish, two things she disliked. They had always avoided this port town in their search for Irene’s child, choosing to take the Rimemere docks out to the Northern Islands instead.

But the gods did indeed have a sense of humor since they ended up finding her here.

She didn’t know what she had expected of Sol.

The stories of her Aunt Irene became rather dark toward the end of her reign, and stories were all she had since she was born after the Queen had abandoned her throne.

Irene left her people to die and suffer the Jinn's brutal slaughters instead of staying to kill them off like she was meant to.

Sawyer groaned, falling back into the loveseat to stare at the Inn’s ceiling.

Everyone thought she would be the savior, the only Yarrow left in Rimemere after her mother decided she too had enough and jumped to her death in the Melisandre Villa.

With Irene gone, her Mother dead, and her Uncle Axel killed during his attempt to flee with Irene, Sawyer was the only one left.

But she had been useless, as her Father so lovingly reminded her every time he saw her.

Her Semmena blood had taken to her instead of her Yarrow blood.

And it haunted her every single day.

“You seem oddly deep in thought,” Alix said, sinking to a crouch in front of her. “I’ve never seen you so quiet.”

“I can be quiet.”

“But you usually aren’t.”

Sawyer sighed. “She’s not what I expected.”

Alix angled his head, his curls drifting with the motion. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Not a stubborn brat.”

“Watch it, Sawyer,” Nina called from behind the loveseat. Sawyer sat up slightly to peer at her best friend, the only person she had never threatened to incinerate. “You will respect the Princess.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sawyer waved her off. “I’m only saying she could at least try to see our perspective.”

“Her entire world changed overnight,” Cas reminded from his place by a window. He looked toward the beach. “Give her a break.”

The front doors opened and Lora Yarrow strode in, her honeysuckle eyes instantly finding Sawyer. The woman silently gestured her aside, and Sawyer followed to the empty side of the tavern.

“Sawyer,” Lora whispered. “I have something for you.”

Sawyer watched her reach into her pocket to retrieve a thin, worn note.

“Irene left this for you—for her niece.” Lora outstretched the folded paper; small specs of dust falling from it. “In case she was unable to return to Rimemere and the burden fell to Sol…” Lora met her gaze. “Because she was going to return, Sawyer. I don’t know if you knew that.” She hadn’t.

Her mother, Mel, had filled her head with all kinds of stories about Irene—mostly negative—but with an expression that gave away the longing and pain their strained relationship had caused.

Mel had only ever praised Irene’s skills in Warding and Dark Magic while at the same time blaming those skills for Rimemere’s burdens.

What those burdens were, Sawyer never figured out, and her mother killed herself before she could ask.

Sawyer sighed and took the parchment from Lora. “What are we to do with Sol? She clearly won’t come with us.”

Lora just smiled. “She will.” She gestured to the letter. “Read it. Alone.”

Sawyer made to walk outside, briefly meeting each of her companion’s curious gazes. The sun instantly greeted her, prompting her to walk to a small shop with a cloth roof.

The shop owner gave her a glare as she ripped open the crimson seal.

Dearest niece,

If you are reading this, then I have failed. I am so sorry. It’s up to you and Sol now.

I love your mother so much, Sawyerlyn. Mel is everything to me, but she doesn't see. She is blinded by him.

You have to make her see, if she is spared by our terrible fate.

Please take care of Sol, Sawyer. Keep her court—your Court—close.

And please….

Burn them down. -I. Yarrow

SOL

SOL HAD NEVER noticed how blue the ocean in Yavenharrow was. It was the blue of sapphires and butterfly pea flowers.

It was the blue of her mother’s eyes and the moment right before sunrise.

She traced the lapping waves with her gaze, welcoming the sprinkles of salt water that landed on her cheek.

At least they camouflaged the tears.

Sol wondered which god her family had offended to be condemned to such a fate. Well, she supposed it was the god of Wards.

She gripped her mother’s note tighter, then brought out the book she had grabbed from the Archives. One last time. One last reading.

Sol opened the book to a random page, then read aloud:

“In the beginning of time, four gods wandered Erriadin. Bored, they forged four items from their respective elements and then hid them amongst the land.

“They dared each other to find them all, and the winner would inherit all elements into their magical arsenal. After centuries of searching, Aquarene had found Emberdon’s Relic, and Flora found both Aquarene and Winderlyn’s.

However, Winderlyn grew tired of the search.

And from water and clay, Winderlyn constructed humans, convincing Emberdon to grant them life with his almighty flames. ”

Sol wiped a tear with her sleeve, then turned the page.

“And thus, humans were placed on Erriadin, and each god chose their favorites to bless with their elements, forever abandoning the search for their Relics. Centuries after their creation, the Wielders discovered within all Light, Dark dwindled. That darkness took shape and grew teeth, birthing Dark Magic to rival the Light Magic their gods had gifted them. Then, after Warren’s emergence into a deity, it is rumored he constructed his own Relic, though kept hidden for himself instead of joining the forgotten game. ”

She stopped reading. Would the basic knowledge from these books and stories Irene told her throughout the years grant her any advantage in Rimemere? Surely her mother had her reasons for not giving her more, including Awakening her magic.

An overwhelming sense of betrayal settled into her chest, a soft promise she would get the answers she was owed. And somehow outsmart destiny.

“How did I know I would find you here?”

Sol wiped her face with her sleeve and gave Leo a small smile as he sat beside her. “Not many other places I like to go,” she said.

He scanned her face, then looked down at the note. “Everything alright?”

She tucked it into her pocket, pulling her hair behind her ears.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Also no.”

He exhaled through his nose and turned to rummage through his satchel. “Now, don’t get mad.”

Sol raised a brow and leaned forward. “No promises.”

A soft clang sounded as Leo retrieved a beautifully crafted iron dagger from the depths of his bag. The steel shone in the sunlight, the hilt adorned by silver vines with a small green jewel at its tip.

He held it out to her. “I was going to give it to you for your birthday in a few months, but—”

“Leo, no.” Sol pushed the dagger back. “It must have cost a fortune.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes as he dropped it into her lap. “Take it. You’ll need it.”

Sol stared at the winking metal. “I can’t do this. I have to, but I can’t.”

Leo wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, his warmth easing her nerves. “I have no advice on how to rule a kingdom, Sunny, but I know if anyone would be good at it, it’s you.

Sol let Leo brace her up while they walked back to the docks. Although she felt Irene was a stranger at that moment, it was obvious her mother knew her well by leaving the note. She wouldn't have agreed to leave Yavenharrow without it.

I need you to listen. Don’t question—only listen.

With knots in her chest, Sol stopped at various merchant carts to look at her town’s exports and beauties one final time. She would visit, she would have to. But when that would be, she didn’t know.

Especially if what the note her mother left proved true.

The Hound was silent when she pushed its doors open, but a few of the upstairs guests had made their way down in search of food. And as Sol had been absent, she could only assume one of them summoned Keelin, who stood fuming behind the bar.

As soon as he spotted her, he marched forward. “Leaving the place unattended, Sol? One would think you're new here.”

Keelin might have gotten closer, had Cas not stepped out from the shadows beside her and extended an arm to stop him. “That’s close enough.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Keelin surveyed him, then the rest of Sol’s newfound companions as they gathered up around her.

“Friends,” Sawyer said. “With bad tempers.”

Sol searched around for Lora, though her aunt was nowhere to be seen. She cast a glance to Leo, who motioned outside. “She said she’d see you at home.”

Sol nodded and turned back to Keelin. “I quit. Sorry for the short notice.”

The man’s cyan eyes blazed. “You can’t just quit!”

“I can. Sorry.” Sol swirled on her heel and made to exit the Hound Inn, thinking she’d feel at least some remorse but felt something like hope instead.