Page 15 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

Eleven

SAND AND STONE WALLS DON’T MIX

BY THE TIME they crossed the Dunes of San’ann, Sol wished the sun would disappear.

The beige sands reflected the rays so intensely she was sure to be cherry red by the time they crossed the basin.

The horses were hot. Everyone was hot. Just when she was about to ask to ride with Alix and his icy mists, she saw it.

At first it was a dark splotch on the horizon, then slowly progressed to a bigger, taller speck, until it finally consumed the entire plane of her vision.

A wall erupted from the sands and rose to the skies, clouds covering where it finished to make it seem endless.

It was made of dark sandstone, a sharp contrast to the tawny sand surrounding it, and Sol couldn't help but stare.

Nina seemed to have a knack for deciphering Sol’s questions, or the confusion was too clearly strung across her face. The Earth Caller said, “The wall is relatively new, I heard. It is guarded and meant to keep Jinn out, but I argue it actually keeps the stragglers in.”

Sol tightened her hands around Kahaida’s reigns. “Who guards it?”

A screeching sounded from behind the wall, a part of it booming open to allow a group of eight soldiers through.

Beside Sol, Sawyer rolled her eyes, her horse seeming to mirror the gesture. “They do.” She trotted ahead slightly and added, “Or at least they claim to.”

Nina pulled Kahaida to a swift stop and dismounted, holding out her elbow for Sol. “Sawyer has a particularly strained relationship with the Kingsmen. They’re perpetually disagreeable.”

Alix dismounted his horse, followed by Cas, who Sol was sure almost landed on the heel of her boots on purpose. She pursed her lips at him in warning, to which he responded with a wink.

Well, at least it seemed he was over the previous day’s disagreement.

“Aside from the wall being enchanted to confuse, it also requires brands from the soldiers to cross. The only bloodline that doesn’t require their brand—”

Nina was interrupted by Sawyer sauntering by, Fey trotting beside her. She didn’t bother greeting the soldiers who watched her pass, but she did peer over her shoulder and give them a fiery wave before disappearing across the open wall.

Literally disappeared. Sol supposed nothing else could surprise her at this point, but she still shook her head and blinked at the spot where her cousin was—then wasn’t.

Nina sighed. “Only Yarrows can enter without a brand.”

“Sawyer loves to remind them of that,” said Alix with a smirk. He flanked Sol’s other side. “Pisses them off.”

“Looks like all those years of travel didn’t teach that bitch any manners,” a soldier clad in full armor and a scruffy beard remarked, prompting a laugh from the other men behind him.

Any fear Sol might have felt was quickly replaced with annoyance as she cut her eyes to him. Sure, Sawyer had a temper, but a rather unwelcome sense of protectiveness struck her at the disrespect.

The comment affected the others similarly, it seemed, as Cas stepped behind Sol, the motion only decipherable by the warmth he radiated. She tried not to shiver as he said, “She’s your General.”

The man shrugged, amusement flickering in his eyes. “That role has been vacant for years as you four partied and fucked around all the corners of Erriadin while we actually did something useful.”

“I’d be careful what you say, Finigan,” Alix warned. “Especially after the journey we’ve had.”

A warm breeze shifted through their group, blowing the sand in wisps around them. Sol covered her eyes with her forearm, unfortunately calling the soldier’s attention to her.

His beady eyes narrowed beneath ginger brows. “And what have you all brought back? A whore?”

Another soldier stepped forward, leaning against Finigan’s shoulders. “Xanthos’s whore, if I had to guess.”

It was Nina who snapped first. With a swift wave of her arm, sand compacted into a limb and slammed into the men, thrusting them aside. Her eyes shone as she stomped over to them, and all Sol could do was watch, astonished at the rare display of anger from the Earth Caller.

Sol didn’t ever want to have that anger directed at her.

“You will respect Prince Xanthos and the rest of the Royal court. I don’t know what’s happened while we have been gone, but it's best you all resolve the attitude quickly and let us through.”

“We don’t let whores through the wall, Amana.” Finigan stood, shaking off the sand. “And your ‘Royal court’ status means nothing without a Royal to rule.”

“Luckily, we have her with us, don’t you think?” Alix strode to join Nina’s side, leaving Sol and Cas alone.

Sol glanced over her shoulder at him.

He was uncharacteristically silent, his eyes focused on the open wall ahead. He met her gaze briefly and shrugged.

Sol didn’t particularly have any words to say. She wanted to ask if he was alright, although she was the one who had been called a whore. She figured being called his whore held a bigger insult somehow.

The small glimmer of emotion in the brief second their eyes met made her dwell. It was foreign on him. She recognized it only because she had spotted it occasionally on herself, whenever she would pass mirrors or spot her reflection in the quiet Yavenharrow ponds.

The ache of confinement.

Of not belonging.

Of longing to, but not knowing how.

So, Sol decided she hated those men. And she would let them know it, even if it meant playing a part she didn’t know the lines for, because screw anyone who made someone feel that way.

She gave Cas a small smile and grabbed his arm, gently leading him toward the rest of his court. He tensed beneath her touch but followed.

Finigan watched them, his attention shifting from her face to Cas's. “There is no way this girl is Irene Yarrow’s daughter.”

“I’ve been told that my whole life, actually,” Sol replied. “We look quite different.”

The other man, still sitting on the ground with wide eyes, stood as well. He cleared his throat and stepped back into formation with the rest of the soldiers, who watched them with unyielding expressions.

To his credit, he at least seemed regretful.

Finigan crossed his arms. “I’m not buying it. Where is Irene then?”

“My mother is dead,” Sol said mechanically, the curated result of all the times she had to say the same to the townsfolk back home. It had been a horror, and it had taken hours and hours for her to let all the tears out so she could talk about it without breaking into sobs.

He surely knew Irene was dead—Nina told her all of the South knew during their ride together. How the wind cried with her passing. How everyone's magic seemed to mute for days after.

Finigan was only digging himself deeper into Sol’s bad side.

“I also don’t care if you believe it or not,” Sol continued. “You’ve been quite rude to my friends. Let us through, they deserve to rest.”

Behind him, the soldiers gripped the hilt of their swords.

The man smirked. “If you’re truly a Yarrow, you don’t need my permission.” He stepped aside. “Go on.”

Beats of silence passed as Sol looked from the wall to the small man. She released Cas— after realizing she still held him—and pondered her options. Sol could walk inside, like Sawyer did, and rid herself of the headache. But that meant leaving her…travel companions alone.

Surely, they could take care of themselves.

Finigan’s expression turned smug as Sol took a step forward, as if she had taken the bait. As if he expected for her to leave them behind.

Sol stopped, refusing to give him any satisfaction. With a false meekness, she said, “I think I’ll wait here until you give my companions whatever they need to cross with me.”

“Afraid of walking alone, Princess Yarrow? They can go with you. If you truly are Irene’s daughter, who is the mother of the enchantment, then if they remain within reach of you, they’ll pass unscathed as well.” He mimicked her tone. “Unless, of course, you aren’t.”

Sol dropped her facade. “And if I am, and you’ve disrespected us like this? Surely speaking to me like this has consequences.” As she finished, she looked the man up and down, making sure to exaggerate her displeasure.

She saw it then, the flicker of caution in his gaze. The realization that if she truly was who she said she was, he was more than likely in trouble.

Another aggravating breeze full of sand scraped Sol’s face. Finally, Finigan jerked his head toward the open wall. “The brands are at the entrance.”

“Come on.” Nina grabbed Sol by the forearm, coaxing her to where the horses waited.

“I’ll take her,” Cas announced, swirling her over to Lilah instead. Sol didn’t protest as she mounted the mare, even felt some relief at the gentle huff in greeting. Cas shifted on and wrapped his arms around her waist to grab the reins before easing Lilah forward with a squeeze to her belly.

“Why are you suddenly wanting me to ride with you?” Sol asked, trying to shrink away from his arms.

Cas gestured up, to the towering wall. Sol followed his directive, barely able to see through the sunlight and haze. But she made out the figures stretched along the top edge of the wall, all angling something down at them.

Bows.

Taut and ready.

Anxiety gripped her throat. "They want to kill me?”

“Us, I think. But everyone wants to kill me beyond these walls.”

He brought his arm overhead, shielding them from the threats above with his Ward. Sol traced the violet veins with her gaze and sank deeper into the saddle.

The soldiers watched them with razor focus as they trotted by, some stoic, but most scowling.

They had almost cleared them, almost reached the front of the gate, when one of them said, “Maybe she's not his whore, but he’s hers...like his father was to Irene.” Sol shut her eyes and dug her fingers into Lilah’s mane.

Cas pulled them to a stop.

She didn’t have to know the full story to know that the sentence was likely that soldier’s last.

“You might want to keep facing forward, Princess.”

Sol clenched her jaw, recognizing the threat in his tone. “And miss the show?”

Cas dropped the Ward.

Instantly, they were surrounded by Shadows, wild and angry, snaking through her hair, leaving her in shivers as they spiraled into the air.

They lingered for a moment before thrusting left, where the soldier didn’t have so much as a second to scream before the tendrils wrapped around him and lifted him into the air.

“Cas!” Nina jumped off Kahaida and ran to his side. She shook him by the leg, her expression mortified. “Cas, the King will kill you.”

The soldier yelled and struggled while the men around him gaped, some scattering without hesitation.

“He can get in line.”

Sol really should have listened to him when he advised her not to look.

A blood-chilling crack resonated throughout the Dunes as the Shadows coiled around the soldier like snakes, his body falling limp and swelling with blood. The darkness released him only for a Ward to catch the body halfway. It fell on it, then sliced through it—in pieces.

“Gods damn it, Casimir,” Nina breathed, holding a hand to her forehead.

Without another word, Cas hauled Lilah forward, making Sol jolt with the sudden force. She tried to keep herself together, trying not to hurl her entire insides as the image of the splattering flesh replayed in her mind.

A Ward enveloped them both as Lilah gained speed.

“I do hope you really are who we think you are, Princess,” Cas said from behind her. He tightened the hand that held the reins around her, bringing them closer. “Because if not, both you and I are dead.”