Page 58 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

“Sol, this is risky.”

“I don’t care.”

“But—”

“You offered help, so give it, Prince.”

A series of knocks from on top of the carriage signaled it was time to exit and brace the second-to-last trial. Sol felt her nerves spike and her palms begin to sweat as Cas clicked the door open.

He grinned at her, but his eyes still held a whisper of reservation. “Look at you giving orders.”

They stepped into the village with a puff of dirt beneath their feet.

Almost immediately after she and Cas were out of the carriage, the guards kicked their horses into a gallop, swirling out of the village and into the forest. Unease cut through her like a blade.

The silence was thick, palpable, as she looked around the ghost town.

Not a single soul wandered. Even the air stilled, like the calm before a mighty thunderclap.

With a sudden infamy, everything exploded.

The blast was deafening. Disorienting. Sol was standing and then she wasn’t, thrown to the ground by a second explosion.

The cobblestone street splintered and dug into all her exposed skin.

Unlike the homes they had seen on their way, the structures around them smelled of scalding wood, giving away the unlikely survival of any as the heat grew, the sound of sizzling flames merging with her breathing.

Smoke and the heat of burning air blew around her face as she struggled onto her palms.

“Easy.” Hands held her shoulders. “Don’t get up too fast.”

Sol shook with adrenaline as Cas gripped her against his chest, easing them both into a crouch. As her vision adjusted, her mind raced.

Jonah. Phil. The tunnels. The plan—

Cas coughed. “We have to get out of here—the smoke.”

Sol nodded and trailed after him as he navigated them through the compact streets.

As they evaded flames and billows of smoke, Sol looked around for the signal that would mark the start of the trial.

But through the haze, she saw nothing, not until they finally reached the edge of the village.

Within a cluster of evergreens, a lone arrow marked a path inward, the kind expected to mark the exit.

But no trial, nothing to complete before getting to it.

Sol panted, bracing her hands on her knees as they stopped in front of it. “Where is the trial?”

“I don’t think we should question it,” Cas breathed. “Let’s just get out of here.”

The crackling of the raging fire grew closer. “I—I can’t leave yet.”

Cas met her gaze, his Wards sparking at his fingertips. “Sol, think logically for a second.”

“I am.”

“You’re being emotional.”

Sol straightened, narrowing her eyes. “I will not leave them, Cas.”

“The point is for us to survive, Sol!” His silver eyes were wild, pleading, as he grabbed her by the shoulders. “Get out of your head!”

She ripped herself from his grasp. “I’m not just leaving, Cas!” she cried. “They’re people. Phil is a child!”

“You have to learn to leave people behind in battle, Sol.” His eyes blazed silver, the flames surrounding them reflecting back the panic his voice gave away. “You can’t save everyone. There comes a time when you have to save yourself.”

Sol took a moment to step closer, to breathe out the motivation for enduring the trials and the weight of her identity, and everything else that had been thrown at her in a few weeks.

She inhaled a breath, hot and heavy, then spoke.

“When my mother was murdered, she told me to save myself. I got home to her yelling for me to run, to find Lora, and get as far away from the house as I could.” Her hands trembled.

“So, I did. I did, Cas, and guess what? If I had stayed, I might have been able to save her. I still don’t know what happened, and I probably never will, but I will never—ever—abandon someone I care for again. Even if it kills me.”

Her chest heaved with revelation, adrenaline spiking and begging for more, more truth, more pain to seep from within to cleanse the oozing wounds she had only lazily patched over.

The crackling of buildings crescendoed, and the air scathed, but neither of them moved.

Cas watched her as if suspended in the moment, his gaze roving over her.

She wondered what he saw looking back at him—did she look as horrible as she felt?

Could he see her skin bubbling with the heat, her hair singeing?

Could he see how truly broken she felt over that night, how it haunted her every waking moment and influenced her decisions?

She was a marionette tethered to the fear of failing someone else she loved.

She hoped he saw her plea to somehow help her cut those strings.

He ran a gentle caress over the side of her cheek, his thumb stroking down to her jaw and said, “We will search for them together, then.”

Time raced as they weaved through the streets and buildings, plunging back into the village and leaving the exit behind.

The heat of the flames squeezed and blurred Sol’s vision.

The bells by the cathedral rang and pounded, a beating reminder of where she needed to be, where she needed to take Phil and Jonah.

All at once, panic set in. She ripped her hand from Cas and bent over, breath fast, heavy, and scarce.

She had failed.

She failed, and it wasn’t even her fault, though it sure felt like it, as it always did. They were one full day away from finishing these trials. Through blurred vision and tears, she could vaguely make out Cas’s form before her.

“Sol,” he said softly through the haze.

“I don’t know what to do, Cas.”

She knew they were running out of time. Though the flames were mostly contained to the wooden buildings, they had started to slither out into the streets, enough so the smell of burnt embers enveloped them.

“I gave you my advice and you said no.” He pulled her up from her biceps. “Be strong in your decision, Princess. Listen. Listen, and let the elements guide you.” He gestured for her to close her eyes. “They’ve favored you this far.”

So she did.

Filling her lungs with what little air there was, she closed her eyes and listened.

At first, only the crackling fire consumed her. The smell of ashes and burning wood was overwhelming, and even through her eyelids she could see the dancing amber lights.

Her skin itched, begging for cold relief.

She exhaled.

With the exhale came a different sound—the sweet whispers of the wind like a lullaby. The scent of fire was replaced by that of menthol and salve, the kind Lora would rub on her to heal open wounds.

Sol opened her eyes and looked beyond Cas. Slowly, almost undetectably, the flames ahead seemed to part. They bent away from the houses and buildings, then flickered as if calling her forward.

When the gusts of cool air blew through her hair, Sol ran with it.

She willed her remaining energy and hope into her legs, begging them to continue. Swinging around corners and making dust drift, she followed the thread. It led her past crumbling storefronts and shriveled trees until the smell of mint and thyme made her skid to a stop.

Behind her, Cas panted. “Sol?”

Sol turned to look at the building before them. It was also engulfed in waves of flame and rubble, but the sign on the window front hung from metal strings, vaguely marking it as an APOTHECARY.

With another cool caress, Sol shouldered the door open.

Plumes of heavy smoke greeted her, making her cough and shield her face.

But there, beyond the foyer, the smoke parted, as if the wind itself tore it aside—

“Phil!” Sol gasped, throwing herself forward. Before she could get inside, though, Cas pulled her back.

“No,” he commanded. “I will go.”

He pushed Sol outside, though the town streets were beginning to become just as dangerous as the inside of the fire-drenched buildings.

She watched him disappear into the smoke, then after some minutes of nothing, almost melted into a puddle of utter relief as he emerged with Phil in his arms. The boy was ashen and covered in black smudges, but clearly lucid as he felt around the air.

“Princess!” he cried, thrashing until Cas put him down.

A sob ripped from Sol’s chest as she embraced him, pulling him into her. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” she whispered into his matted hair. “Where is Jonah?”

Phil shuddered against her. “Inside. I tried to shield him with the wind, but it was running out, and he couldn’t see—”

Cas dashed back into the apothecary just as the roof began to crumble.

The emotions flooding through Sol as the roof caved into itself—as the smoke and flames seemed to breathe before exploding—was mortifying.

Fear, panic, and hopelessness all catapulted together until it ripped at her soul, and all she could do was hold Phil closer.

“CAS!” she yelled, torn between running after him and staying with Phil.

A heat hotter than the flames themselves burned at her back, where her birthmark lived, then spread to her throat, down to the scar on her palm, her blood bond, until all at once everything stopped.

Everything.

As if time itself froze, the flames stopped their flaying, and the crackling ceased. Dust suspended in the air, and Sol looked down to find Phil frozen in fear against her, his eyes tightly shut, and tears staining his cheeks.

Gently, Sol peeled away from him. “What the—”

“I will admit, you’ve needed more interventions than anticipated, Queen of Wielders.”

Sol jumped at the melodious voice resonating from everywhere, yet nowhere, all at once. She glanced up, then looked around, until, at the end of the crumbling street, a figure floated forward.

Its silhouette grew and neared. “In your defense, though, your mother needed even more, and she was supposed to be well-versed in these things.”

“Who are you—what is this?” Sol narrowed her eyes. “Don’t come any closer!”

An unearthly laugh resonated, spilling like honey. “I was going to send Morna again, but I was closer and figured it would be a good time for us to meet.”

Sol swallowed and clenched her jaw in between bouts of nausea.

“Who are you?”

The Jinn smiled. “Mavka. My name is Mavka.”