Page 33 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

Twenty Five

AT THE CASTLE

SAWYER WAS CALLED to the throne room that same night.

Sol and Cas's departure left the castle dwellers more on edge than usual, especially as the last of the nobles returned to their lands or respective dwellings within Rimemere.

Some would stay until the end of the Coronation Vows, though others left and would return only to see the crowned victor.

The two weeks the Vows would likely take were far too long to be in Rimemere for most of the other Southerners. Sawyer didn't blame them. She had been back for a week and was already aching to burst out.

Alix and Nina dedicated the rest of the afternoon to the libraries, attempting to find any sort of loophole to get both Sol and Cas out before the end of the trials.

The most obvious solution was for them both to make it until the end, then Cas yield.

However, whatever happened in between was far too open-ended for Nina, and she was determined to get them out sooner.

Sawyer was on her way to the stables for a much-needed ride around the Human sections with Fey when Caleib delivered the summoning. She didn't bother to read it. Only looked at the man and led the way to the throne room.

Sawyer tried not to meet the stare of the black-cloaked students who hovered in the halls. They were old enough to remember her from before the expedition and were surely either curious about the rest of Erriadin, or about Sol.

Sawyer had no desire to speak of either.

The throne room was bleak with stray rays of sunlight dispersing across the white marble floors from the scattered, tall windows. She focused on the courtyard beyond instead of the man on the throne.

“You’re dismissed, Caleib,” her father said, his voice low and harsh.

Sawyer dared a glance his way, surprised to find the rest of the Semmena court absent. That could only mean whatever she was summoned for was not good.

As soon as Caleib clicked the door shut behind them, her father stood. “Have you located what I required from you?” Okay. No greetings today.

Fine. Sawyer placed her hands behind her back.

There were five Immortal Relics known to be scattered around Erriadin. Originally, they had been gathered in the depths of Rimemere, somewhere within the underground tunnels, during Ivet Yarrow’s reign.

Somehow, they became scattered throughout the centuries, and her father was now taking the personal task of reuniting them.

At first, she thought it was some sort of joke—The Relics were a myth.

They were rumored to be palm-sized spheres that could conjure any and all Wielding Magic at once, as well as assist the holder in channeling Dark Magic from the Void itself without the need to sacrifice the soul.

Irene Yarrow had been the last known Wielder to learn the Dark Spells—then passed them to the only known human to practice them, Lora Yarrow.

Aside from them, the only way to wield Dark Magic was with a Relic.

In theory.

Her father thrummed his fingers on his throne, sending sparks flying. “Well?”

Sawyer cleared her throat. “I have not sensed anything amiss.”

“In your four years of travel, daughter, you did not sense a Relic at all?”

Her exterior faltered. She tried, with exhausting effort, to keep a cool demeanor in front of her father, to seem unbothered and bratty as most people already labeled her.

But gods did he terrify her.

To keep her voice from shaking she only said, “No.”

The King stood. “You never fail to remind me of how useless you truly are.”

Sometimes, when she saw the fire coming, she would shield herself with a small burst of her own flames. Her skin would still be left aching and swollen, but not burned, as if she hadn't shielded herself at all.

This time, she was caught off guard.

Sawyer fell to the ground with shriek, her father’s fire wrapping around her arms, her back, her lungs—

Sawyer inhaled, holding the breath in her core, and letting it simmer with her boiling blood. She slid her gaze to him, clenching her jaw as her skin screamed with agony. “Learned from the best.”

“Find them, Sawyerlyn.”

She watched him leave the room then, leaving her alone in a pile of ash, smoke, and flickering fire.

NINA

NINA HADN’T READ through so much Rimemere history since her second year in the Wielder academy.

That year had been full of books and the smell of dried ink, all while Sawyer and Cas decided to use it as their last attempt to rebel before royal duties became their life.

Nina and Alix had aced their tests, received honors, and graduated without penalties—the other two were shipped off to the Jinn den that summer as punishment for failing.

“There has to be something,” Nina whispered to herself, scanning the ancient pages of a dusty tome called Rimemere Traditions and Their Origins.

Ironically, the tradition she sought loopholes for was missing from the reports.

There had to be a way to get both Sol and Cas out of there quickly. Sawyer hadn’t been too concerned, saying Cas just had to yield at the end, and Sol would prove victorious.

Still, there was no harm in having a failsafe.

A knock at her door prompted her to shut the book of Rimemere Laws, sending dust afloat. “Come in.”

Sawyer was always covered in something—mud, dirt, alcohol…

but never blood. She never failed to bathe before coming home from the battle stations, at least tried to clean her face before addressing anyone.

It was a personal thing, something about not being able to bear other’s blood while hers remained inside her.

So when she stood in Nina’s doorway, face, hands, and neck covered in blood and smelling like fire, Nina felt the ground itself shake in response.

“What happened?” Nina pulled her into the room and closed the door, reinforcing it shut with ivy and branches she kept nearby.

Sawyer’s eyes were hard, distant.

Nina grabbed her hands. The blood was warm. “Sawyer.”

“It’s my blood—just in case it grossed you out.”

Instantly, Nina removed her cloak and wiped her friend’s face. Small cuts revealed along her cheeks and forehead, then gashes around the sides of her neck. Peeking from beneath the neckline of her battle leathers, scarred, red skin bubbled.

Nina’s jaw clenched, icy-hot rage awakening in her chest.

“Who?”

“Who do you think?”

Nina hadn’t missed being away from Semmena’s cruelty. Sawyer’s father wasn’t only a blood thirsty, cruel ruler, but he was the same as a father. If he could even be called that.

“Why?”

“Because I’m useless.”

Nina continued working away the sticky, thick blood from her face and neck, then gently guided her to the bathing room.

They had no shame or reservations around each other, not anymore.

They had seen all of the intimate parts from an early age, physical and emotional, and everything in between.

So much so that Nina often felt like Sawyer was an extension of herself.

Not a friend, or a sister, but a piece of her soul.

Nina made sure the bath was cold, but smoke still curled from Sawyer’s shoulders when she stepped into it.

“He wasn’t so bad before,” Sawyer said, her voice small and absent of emotion. “He didn’t even ask how our travels were.”

Nina sighed, a wave of sadness pooling within her at that eternal, youthful side of her friend that relentlessly searched for her father’s care. She grabbed the softest rag she found and lathered it with aloe vera salve.

“You never deserved his cruelty, Sawyer,” Nina said, fury lining her voice as she pressed the mixture over Sawyer's wounds. “None of us did.”

“I’ll kill him.” Smoke lined the tub, the water suddenly scorching. “I swear to Emberdon I will.”

Nina heard the unspoken reasons in Sawyer’s waver. For my Mother. For my Lands. For Cas. For Sol.

She hugged her friend’s shoulders gently, withstanding the heat that made Sawyer so incredibly special. “And we will be by your side, S.”

A knock at the door made them both jump.

Nina had no positive ideas of who it could be, half expecting Alix to come in with a bloody nose after he, too, had received the King’s wrath for whatever reason.

But when she pulled the door open a sliver, it was Caleib who stood in the hallway, his hands holding a folded piece of parchment with the Semmena sigil.

“Miss Amana,” he bowed. “Word from the Gods’ Villa.”

A massive shiver snaked down Nina’s spine as she snatched the paper, slamming the door in the courtier’s face after a breathless dismissal.

“Sawyer!” Nina yelled, prying open the wax seal. “News on the prospects!”

Within a matter of seconds Sawyer was in the room, the splash of the water still spilled in the background as she hurried to Nina’s side, wrapped in a towel.

Once Sawyer was beside her, Nina flipped it open, and prayed to Flora the names of her friends would not be on the Death List.