Page 29 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

Twenty One

THE PROSPECTS

THE RULES WERE SIMPLE: If Sol won, she could rule alone. If she didn't, it meant she was dead.

This wouldn't have been too terrible if Cas wasn't one of the people she was now meant to “eliminate”. She also hoped she wouldn't have to “eliminate” anyone at all and would somehow find a way to end the whole thing before it had a chance to begin. It didn’t seem likely.

The whole night, Sol tossed and turned, haunted by one of the stupidest decisions of her life. How was she to save people she needed out of the way? It was an impulsive decision, propelled by anger and disgust, and the desire to be right.

At least her court was just as baffled.

Nina chastised her to no end the rest of the celebration, sobbing and begging Alix to find a way to get Sol and Cas out of the Vows.

Alix had obliged and left to the libraries, if only to calm Nina for a while.

Sawyer merely told Sol she succeeded in showing her inexperience at ruling to the entire South, then stalked to the dungeons after Cas. Which was fine–she wasn’t wrong.

When her cousin returned, she slept on the sofa while Nina spent hours pacing the room, muttering what could have been either curses or prayers.

Between self-deprecating thoughts, Sol stared at the ceiling beneath her duvet. Cas's face was imprinted in her eyelids every time she closed them, followed by Semmena’s vile smile at the reveal.

Although it wasn't her fault, Sol couldn't deny she had gotten them both into irrevocable trouble.

“You need to learn to sit the fuck down and let others win sometimes. You’ve only shown the South your rashness.”

Sol flicked her gaze to her cousin. She played with a string of fire around her fingertips, her braid hanging from the side of the sofa. She had not said a word since returning from the dungeons.

“Perhaps if one of us takes her place—” Nina started, rubbing her temples. “Maybe—”

“You’re going to think yourself into a panic,” Sawyer sighed. “Sit down for a second.”

“How are you so calm about this? Cas alone would have survived, but now with Sol too—”

“It was her choice.”

“She didn’t know—”

Sol sat up. “I can hear you both.”

The women looked at her, both washed in amber hues from the fireplace. “That’s the point.” Sawyer said, standing. “Listen to the aftermath of the worst decision of your life.”

“It’s not the worst decision of my life, in case it matters.” Sol jumped off the bed. She knew her cousin was trying to make her angry, to get her to regret her outburst. And Sol did. She felt shame and guilt all on her own—she didn't need anyone else’s help with it.

“It’s about to be,” Sawyer assured. “You might have just doomed the South.”

Sol walked to her, squeezing her hands into fists. For a moment, she considered telling her what the true worst decision of her life was, but it wouldn’t matter. Not now, not ever, not to Sawyer. So instead, Sol said, “I wasn't about to sit back and watch people die for me.”

Sawyer glared, onyx eyes unyielding. “You’ll do a lot of that when you rule a territory, Princess. Get used to sitting back and assessing instead of placing yourself in situations we can't protect you from.”

“I don't need protection.”

“Get over yourself,” Sawyer scoffed. “It’s not even about you. It's about the Jinn gate.”

“Sawyerlyn!” Nina placed herself between them. “Stop it. Now.”

The words rang through Sol, gripping her bones. Her cousin wasn't wrong. Again.

Sol’s survival was vital, if not for herself, for the sake of closing the Jinn gate eventually. She herself had nothing of value.

Well, except her blood.

Nina peered at Sol over her shoulder. “Don't,” the Earth Caller warned. “Don't let that sink in. She’s angry. You matter as a person, not just what your destiny holds for you.”

Sawyer looked away from them, a flash of regret on her face as she crossed her arms.

“We aren't children. We don't insult each other like that.” Nina grabbed Sawyer’s arm. “We are all we have. You understand?”

The Fire Wielder nodded but refused to look at them. “I understand.”

Sawyer turned to the front door instead, just as a set of knocks pounded through it. “Think that’s for you, cousin.”

Sol sighed. “Any advice?”

Sawyer narrowed her eyes at her, suddenly serious. “Cas has gone through a lot, Sol. Remember that.”

“I—I will. Anything else?”

Nina pressed her lips together in contemplation. “Don't die.”

WHEN SOL WAS nine, she and Irene had been at the town marketplace during a raid.

Soldiers surrounded the wooden carts, sending the townsfolk into a terrified frenzy.

Sol didn't learn until she was much older that the soldiers were contracted by some Northern territory to seek out a mercenary who fled their shores without paying for his goods.

At the time, though, Sol only knew the cold terror she felt as her mother held her against her chest, turning her away from the chaos, from the song of swords and screams as the soldiers dragged the middle-aged mercenary from his post. They took him away in shackles while his family sobbed on the sidelines, and the soldiers shed not a single tear or showed a mere shred of emotion.

Sol cried along with the stranger’s family, and Irene carried her all the way home, whispering sweet things and tales of a land where families wouldn’t be torn apart, where death wouldn’t be the only option for crimes committed out of necessity.

As Sol stood at the entrance of the Rimemere castle, Cas in copper cuffs beside her, the memory was bitter in her mind.

“A land where families wouldn’t be torn apart.”

The day in the gardens with Gaven was a particular weight in that moment as she watched Cas sidelong. He seemed better than the day before—not as weak or dirty. But hollow. Defeated.

Sol was about to say something, anything, to the man, but a girl maybe two feet shorter than her, with pin-straight hair and scarlet lips, sauntered over from her place at the end of the line. Sol vaguely recognized the woman from the dinner. She didn’t remember much of last night.

The woman looked at Sol. “Cattya of Stone Ledge, Princess.” She curtsied. “I do hope you don’t mind if we switch spots?”

Sol looked from Cattya to Cas, then leaned forward to locate where the woman had appeared from. There was an empty space almost at the end of the line the prospects stood to await the carriages that would take them to wherever the Vows took place.

“Get back in line, Cattya,” Cas said, mercifully taking Sol’s need to respond. “The guards will be suspicious if they see us talking.”

“Why? They know our history.” Cattya reached out to touch Cas on the shoulder, but before she could, a sway of his copper chains made her flinch back. “Rude.”

“Bye, Cattya.”

Sol suppressed a smile as the woman scoffed and stomped back to her spot. “Interesting choice in women,” she muttered.

Cas only sighed through his nose.

The carriages came into view moments later, four of them, pulled by pairs of majestically massive horses, bigger than the ones they had traveled to Rimemere on. For a slight second, Sol missed the beasts.

“I didn’t take you to be this reckless, Princess,” Cas whispered, a gust of wind rustling his hair.

She peered up at him. “Your bad judge of character is a trend, then?”

“You shouldn't have joined this mess.” He angled himself closer, ignoring her remark. “You only made things more difficult.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know you would be a part of this.”

He huffed a harsh laugh. “Well, that makes two of us.” After a beat of silence, he straightened. “We must stick together. It’s the only way for you to survive.”

Sol bit the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning. “I can take care of myself. I’m not some helpless maiden.”

Cas gave her an exasperated look, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

“These people will kill you if given the chance.”

“Again, I can take care of myself.”

“How, exactly? You have no magic. Do you have some hidden ability you haven’t shared?”

Shrugging, Sol returned her attention to the gate and the carriages emerging through it. “Now why would I tell you such a valuable secret?”

The rattle of his chains gave away his growing impatience. “Well, weapons are banned at the Gods’ Villa. So, if that was your plan, you might as well find a new one. Only magic is allowed, which you don't have yet.”

The prospects around them feigned ignorance, suddenly examining the walls behind them, or listening intently to the pounding of hooves against cobblestone.

Cas pulled Sol to the side, his shackles clanking against each other. “We have to kill them before they have the opportunity to kill us.”

Sol glared at him. Was that his plan? The exact opposite of hers? She held her chin high. “I am not killing anyone, and neither are you.”

“Sol—”

“Not a single soul, Cas.” She pointed a finger at him. “I joined this to make a difference. We will not feed into the brutality.”

He narrowed his eyes. “If it's you and me in the end, then what?”

Sol stared at him for a long moment. No, she had not thought of logistics. She’d joined the Vows prior to Cas's big reveal. She had not anticipated having to—remove someone she might not want permanently removed.

Finally, she shrugged. “I guess if that happens, we’ll see.”

His expression switched through a flutter of emotions, all too quick and subtle for Sol to fully decipher. Then, all at once, they all melted into a mask of indifference. He turned to face the carriages. “Fine.”

The carriages came to a stop in front of the castle. Fin stepped off the one in the front, his boots sending dust adrift around them. “Three prospects per carriage.” He jerked his head at them. “Move.”

Kingsmen filed out of the crimson and black carriages, each ushering the prospects forward. Finigan made to grab Sol, but Cas pulled her behind him. “Remove my shackles.”

Finigan laughed. “Not until we get to the Gods’ Villa, Xanthos.”

“No one else is shackled. It puts me at a disadvantage.”

Cas and Finigan glared at each other, neither man willing to move. Around them, the prospects filed into the transports, leaving only Sol, Cas, and another man standing protectively in front of the small boy who had torn Sol’s heart to pieces when everything was announced the day before.

The boy gave her a small smile before returning to hide behind his companion.

“There’s an uneven amount left, Sir.” A kingsman strode to Finigan, signaling from the carriages back to them. “Two carriages and four prospects.”

“The Princess can ride alone,” Finigan said, looking over at her. A slow smile spread across his lips. “In the one I’m directing at the front.”

Again, Finigan reached to grab Sol, but this time she sidestepped Cas, crossing her arms over her chest, and away from the man’s reach. “Don’t touch me,” she warned.

“So, you can veer off the path and likely kill her or whatever else your King ordered from you? ” Although the copper should have muted his magic, Sol swore Shadows bled from Cas while he spoke. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Surprise tightened Sol’s chest. She hadn’t thought of that. She supposed she was an open target now as well, since her participation made her both a prize and a threat. Eliminating her meant rewards in a caliber similar to marriage into her bloodline.

As Alix had explained the night before, prior to his exit to the libraries, Sol’s elimination from the Vows was second best to dragging her to the end, then having her adversary yield.

Although that would cause them to lose their noble status, if they were to convince Sol to marry them anyway after, that lost title wouldn’t matter.

Too bad she wasn’t granting mercy to anybody if that became the situation.

“Then all four of you ride together, and we return one carriage to the stables.” Fin shrugged. “However, will you defend yourself if the others decide the ride over there is the perfect place to get rid of you both?”

Another thing—there was no penalty for killing other prospects. The only thing they needed to refrain from was cheating during whatever the “tests” were. Cheating would anger the gods, and the whole point was to gain their blessing.

Sawyer had ripped the rules from Alix’s grasp after that, incinerating them out of spite with an exasperated groan. To an extent, Sol had been thankful.

She barely retained any of it.

“We mean no harm to you, Princess,” the boy whispered from behind the man’s leg.

The man hushed him. “Quiet, Phil.”

Call it intuition or overall exhaustion, but Sol said, “We will all ride together,” then pulled Cas forward, not failing to notice Finigan looking her over until she tucked herself into the depths of the carriage seat.

The man’s name was Jonah. He was the eldest son of the Dianese nobility, an Earth Caller, and older brother to Phil who very eagerly shared all the information despite his brother’s annoyance.

“Jonah and I are only half siblings,” Phil continued, hands tapping his knees with excitement. “His father thought it would be smart to have us both here, to have double the chances to be with you, Princess.”

Sol looked away and watched the trees zip by instead. “This shouldn’t be happening at all.”

“It’s been tradition for centuries,” Jonah said, the first thing he shared aside from soft chastises at his brother. “We have all made peace with it.”

Still, Sol shook her head.

“You must get to the end, Princess,” Phil chimed. “We will help you.”

“I need to find a way to save you all.” Sol ran her hands through her hair. “I—I cannot just watch the slaughter.”

“If you would’ve just not joined, you wouldn’t have to see anything.” Cas pulled at his chains. “You can’t expect to save people in a tradition requiring the exact opposite.”

Sol rolled her eyes and shifted sideways, further away from the Shadow Guider. He obviously wasn’t dropping the subject any time soon, and she supposed she could’ve rebutted with something smart. But the image of him beaten, bruised, and broken inside the cage made her clamp down on the words.

From the edge of her vision, she watched Cas smirk. “What? Say it.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Just say what it is you’re holding back.”

Sol sighed, shutting her eyes. “Just… I know this is stupid, okay? But it’s done. Deal with it.”

Jonah blinked at her, looking back and forth between them both. Phil nibbled at his nails but kept a pleasant smile, as if the bickering was entertaining.

No one said anything else the rest of the way.