Page 12 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

Nine

THE JOURNEY AHEAD

IT TOOK SOL a whole hour of traveling on foot to stop trying to escape.

Between attempted escapades, she took in the moon’s place in the sky.

Sawyer dragged her along at first, when the moon had been near the horizon, then after Sol stomped on her foot in an attempt to flee, she was passed over to Cas.

Sol immediately protested, she wasn’t a rabid dog that needed containment, so she was eventually left in the center of their circle with a bit less restraint as the moon settled a quarter higher.

Apparently, the Wielders’ horses were left on the outskirts of Yavenharrow, tied to a post near a trough of water by a small, abandoned farm. They were to ride through the rest of the night and, hopefully, most of the next day since Rimemere was a week’s ride away.

Sol couldn’t help but constantly look back to Yavenharrow the further away they went, as if waiting for a sign or signal or omen.

But the town was silent.

Eerily so.

She didn’t notice when they finally came before the horses until the Wielders broke their circle to reveal them.

Instantly, Sol shook her head. “There is no way I’m mounting one of those.”

The creatures were massive, daunting things, all staring her down as if she was a plump, juicy apple.

They huffed at her.

“They look scarier than they are,” Sawyer said, stepping up to release one from the wooden fence it was anchored to. “Unless it's Kahaida. She is just as terrible as she looks.”

In response, a horse separated from the others, the color of ashy sand.

“Not true!” Nina whined and strode to it, the horse instantly trying to nibble at her auburn hair. “She is just selective.”

Sol’s head buzzed with a cocktail of feelings. Everything was unfamiliar. She had never felt like running backward but also trudging forward at once, battling the taut string of destiny tugging her onto her mother’s homeland while simultaneously feeling tethered to Yavenharrow.

For a few hours, she remained silent, defeated atop Kahaida with Nina a soft presence behind her. She went back and forth between nostalgia and excitement, finally settling on indifference.

The homesickness would fade—it had to.

Right?

“We will stop for the night soon, Princess.”

Sol flinched at Nina’s voice as it sliced through the night.

“Please don’t call me that.” Sol shifted in the saddle. It was too soon and too unnerving to so willingly sink into that identity.

“What should we call you, then?”

“Just Sol.”

“Typically, royalty is addressed with titles—names are sacred.”

The sentence echoed within Sol, reminding her of the similar things her mother would say. The longer she was with the strangers, the uncanny similarities between them and her mother gave her an odd sense of familiarity.

She fought against it.

“Why is that?” Sol stared at the trees ahead, tugging at her braid. “My mother used to say the same.”

“Our magic comes from our names—our bloodlines. When a Wielder Awakens, they offer their name to the gods, hoping one of them will bless them with their magic.” Nina gently eased Kahaida to a stop.

“After one picks you, your name belongs to them. No one else but you and them are allowed to utter it fully.”

“Seems like a rule easy to break,” remarked Sol.

Nina laughed. “It is, often other Wielders say names out of spite. But the gods who own the uttered name deal with them.”

“The good old days when the ones who broke that rule would just explode, were so fun,” Sawyer said beside them as she dismounted her horse. “The gods aren’t as brutal anymore.”

They stopped at the beginning of a patch of hills. The moonlight vaguely illuminated the compact line of trees ahead, which seemed to spiral into tendrils of darkness. They stood in an open clearing surrounded only by those hills and rows of evergreens.

“Here, Nins? It’s kind of out in the open.” Alix frowned as he inspected the surroundings.

“We need to rest. The next mountain that can provide coverage is hours away.” Nina eased off Kahaida then held out her hand to Sol.

Sol didn't take it and instead clumsily slid off the beast.

“We take turns, then,” Cas said. “I will take first watch.”

Unsurprisingly, Sol didn’t sleep. She lay in the tent Sawyer materialized out of her pack, staring at the fraying seams. The sound of nature was soothing, reminiscent of Yavenharrow, but the murmurs and outline of the fire reminded her she was far, far from home.

The Wielders grew silent over the course of a few hours, so much so that Sol peeked her head out with hopes they had left.

They had not.

She resisted the nagging urge to mount the kindest-looking horse and gallop back the way they had come.

The night had grown cold enough Sol saw her breath in small puffs as she eased from the tent.

Nina and Sawyer lay side by side near the fire, while Alix sat behind them, resting his head on a tree.

They looked peaceful, almost human-like while they slept—no signs of those brutally trained individuals from the day before.

Sol didn’t think she would ever be able to replace that first impression.

“I thought you promised not to run away.”

Sol nearly fell back into the tent. “Gods.”

Cas leaned on a tree opposite his court mates, sharpening what looked like a branch into a stake. He wiped the wisps of wood away from the tip. “I told them not to trust you.”

“I’m not running away,” she said. “Although I thought about it.”

“Out of curiosity,” he glanced at her, “which horse would you have taken?”

“Not Kahaida—she tried to eat my braid earlier.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “She is probably the only one who would have listened to you. The others are trained not to let riders that aren’t theirs mount them alone.”

“Shouldn't you sleep?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I swear I won’t run.”

“I’m not tired. And I don’t trust you.” Silence fell.

“So, what’s your deal?” Sol walked around the campfire. “You refused to tell me back at the Hound. And you’ve made an awful first impression by chasing me into the ocean.”

Cas paused his carving. “Now, I didn’t do that, Princess. You did.”

She shrugged. “Semantics.”

Resuming his weapon crafting, he said, “Officially, I’m your royal guard.”

“And unofficially?”

He tapped the blade on the stake. “Just along for Sawyer’s commentary.”

“I heard that,” Sawyer said, her eyes still closed. Beside her, Nina giggled. “Aren’t we all?” The burning was stronger this time.

Sol didn’t think she would ever get used to her birthmark flaring, but at that particular moment, it caught her too off guard.

It was a spear in the center of her back, then a thick, pulsing oil spreading across the star's peaks. Her body wasn’t her own as she fell to her knees and suppressed a yell.

“What’s wrong?” Instantly, Nina was beside her.

But Sol couldn't speak, she clawed at her shirt and skin, feeling too tight in them both.

“Off,” she said through tight teeth, nails digging into the ground.

One of them pulled her shirt off, leaving her in her breeches and camisole. She didn't care, she wanted to beg them to strip that off too if it meant the burning subsided.

“Sol, how do you make it stop?” Nina shook her shoulders. “Has it ever done this before?”

“The Yarrow mark. It’s magic in itself,” Alix said, kneeling beside her. “Here, let me see.”

Through the haze, Sol vaguely saw Sawyer and Cas standing over them, both with their blades out.

“If it burns, perhaps I can soothe it.” Alix pulled Sol into his arms, carefully placing his palms over her mark. Slowly, the fire dwindled, and it was as if she had been doused with cold water.

Sol inhaled and exhaled, dropping her head on his shoulder in defeat.

Her mother had never truly explained the mark’s purpose or origins, only that most of her ancestors had one as well.

She said it was a family mark and joked it only condemned them to the occasional discomfort.

But Sol had never had to deal with it as often as she had in the last few days.

It made her wish she would have taken Lora up on her offers to construct a salve for it when she was younger.

Sawyer crouched, meeting Sol at eye level. “Better?”

Relief flooded Sol, though she struggled to keep her eyes open. “Better.”

“Does that happen often?” Alix asked, patting her back, sending more waves of cool.

Sol shook her head. “Not usually, but it has lately.” “Last time was at the docks, right?” Cas asked.

Her head pounded with leftover pain, but she gave him a small nod.

Nina didn't wait for a response as she shot to her feet. “The docks had Jinn. Alix, stay with her. The rest of us will do a land sweep.”

For once, Sol swallowed her protests and savored the sweet, cool magic.

They stayed like that for a long while. Sol hadn't realized how much she truly just needed to be held.

Her racing thoughts slowed, and her anxiety drifted.

She was almost disappointed when she finally peeled herself from him, her face heating at the realization that she had clung to the man for nearly twenty minutes.

She smiled meekly. “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize. At your service.” He juggled a stream of water along his fingertips.

Sol folded her legs beneath her, then crossed her arms over her torso. “Is my shirt anywhere?”

With a chuckle, Alix tossed it to her. “Has it ever felt like that before?”

Sol shook her head. “No. I’m not even sure what it means.”

“There isn't much recorded on Yarrow marks. Your mother—and all the ones marked before her—were rather secretive about it.” Alix stretched out his legs and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “But we do know it’s connected to your magic somehow.”

“I don’t have any.”

“Yet. You will.”