Page 3 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)

She had waited sixteen long, nameless years for this moment. Only for Nyx to throw it at her amidst a cacophony of pain, her own voice filled with fear she did not attempt to hide.

And that name – Selene Amaris – settled upon her shoulders almost awkwardly. As though she had taken something meant for someone else.

Her head spun as Nyx grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the crowd, Celeste closing in on her other side. The girl looked back, her bare feet skidding on the marble floor.

Only the Maiden met her gaze. She nodded, smiled, and then she joined the rest.

Nobody else followed them as Nyx and Celeste dragged her in the direction of the small wooden door at the far corner of the room that led to the kitchens.

Instead, the faeytes were forming a line.

One, and then another, all of them, such perfect lines that it was almost as if they had practiced.

Even the Crone stood, her chin high as she slowly descended from the dais.

The others made space as she walked through to the front, her cane tapping the floor as she took up a position in the middle, the Maiden at her side.

The lines formed in front of the huge doors that had always entranced Selene. Beautiful, carved, pale golden wood that towered far above her head and opened at the top of the many steps you had to climb to enter Hala’s temple.

The doors were open, as they always were. They did not turn away those in need.

None of the faeytes moved. They waited for something Selene didn’t understand. There were no prayers, no murmurs. Only a silence that felt louder than the screaming she could still hear from the town.

And then her sisters pulled her through the doorway at the back of the hall, and they were gone.

“You’ll go through the gardens.” Nyx was breathing unsteadily as she pulled Selene into faster movement, Celeste hurrying behind them.

Their cloaks flew out as they broke into a run down the hallway, beneath the dark carved wooden arches that dotted the ceiling above their heads.

The white adralite floor, always so warm, now felt cold and hard beneath her feet in a way it never had before.

“You’ll get to the harbor. Use the smaller paths – you know them. There will be—,”

Her words cut off. “You will leave, Selene. Today.”

Leave?

The bottom hollowed out in her stomach. When she staggered, her sisters hauled her upright, not pausing as they pulled her on, past the curved wooden staircase that led to the upper floors and forward, toward the kitchens.

She had never left Asteria. Had never wanted to, had never wanted anything more than what she already had.

This was her home.

She had so much. And yet – it felt very much like she was losing something, as they ran.

As if she might be losing everything.

She tried to force them to a stop, her voice shrill. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.” Something that sounded like a sob came from Celeste. From her stoic, quiet sister, even as she pulled harder. “But you have to go, now.”

Nyx suddenly stopped, the girl almost crashing into her back, and glanced back over her shoulder down the empty hall that stretched out behind them.

They had reached the kitchens. The low wooden benches where she had sat and kicked her legs and peeled vegetables greeted her, thousands of nicks and grooves in the wood for every faeyte that had gone before her and done the same.

But none would come after.

The earlier thought caught, held.

She was the youngest. There were none younger than her.

This home had once been filled with inritus, she knew. With Caelumnai. With lovers, and friends, and partners. With children running through the halls.

But sixteen years ago, an unnamed faeyte had returned to Hala in childbirth, leaving the girl who would become Selene Amaris behind. The first faeyte born in years. There had been so few before, and there were none after.

The girl— Selene , she reminded herself, although it did not fit—had been unusual. She had been told so often enough, as the other faeytes taught her, and scolded her, and trained her, and pushed her. All of them, always, focused on her.

Almost as if…

She twisted. Her hand reached for Celeste, gripped her wrist tightly. Celeste’s eyes flew to her face, and the girl knew.

Her voice rose, high and shaking. “ Who read it ?”

For somebody had.

Somebody had read her fate .

It should have been today. She should have seen her own fate today, should have watched in wonder as her shadows rose for the first time and danced in a pattern of her future, at the top of Hala’s temple.

A vision for her alone, gifted by the goddess to show her path.

A gift she would then take forward, the ability to call the shadows and read the fate of those around her.

A gift to be cherished. Revered. And never abused.

To read a fate was sacred.

Celeste held her gaze. “The Mother read your fate. On the night you were born.”

She couldn’t breathe. They never, ever, read children.

“This—you knew —?”

They had lied to her, all of them. Dressed her in white and silver, and threaded green flowers into her hair, and congratulated her on a ceremony they knew would never happen.

Slowly, her hand dropped. Betrayal cut the air from her chest, pressing down in a heavy weight. But Nyx was there, pushing her along. “We’re running out of time .”

Dazed, the girl listened.

She couldn’t hear any screaming now. But there was something else—a clang, a clatter. Metal on marble, banging in a horrible, continuous rhythm.

And there was shouting. Loud shouting, such as she had never heard inside her home.

They reached the small, dark wooden door at the end of the kitchens which led to the gardens. It was bolted shut, and Nyx pressed her ear to it, her eyes closing and her hand up for silence.

They waited. Hot blood thundered in Selene’s ears, but she bit back the questions.

One did not question their fate.

It was unavoidable.

But this —

“What will happen to you?”

Neither of them answered her blurted question.

Panic raced through her veins, a sudden awareness that neither of them had mentioned themselves.

Only her. And those lines in the hall filled her mind again, the way they had faced the door.

The way Deva had pulled her shears from her pocket, running her finger over them. “Nyx?”

Nyx’s eyes did not open, but she shook her head. Selene turned to Celeste next, but her sister was focused on Nyx, her strong brow furrowed in concentration. “The harbor, Selene. Go nowhere else. Go to Terrosa. You’ll need to run, and run fast. Do you understand?”

She had always run. Had spent her life running. And not one of them had ever truly stopped her, she realized in growing horror. She had always believed it to be because of her youth, but now—

They had known. They had known she would need to run, so they had said nothing.

“I have no shoes—”

“Stop for no one,” Celeste breathed. “Do not stop, do not pause. Run . As fast as you can.”

She looked between them, her sisters. And they looked at her.

“You will find your way home.” Nyx stood back from the door. Her eyes were clear, her jaw tight as she unbolted it. “And we will meet again, sister.”

“Come back for us.” The words broke on Celeste’s lips. “And have faith, Selene.”

The sound of those footsteps grew louder.

They were inside, now. She could hear them—the shouting, the rage. It flowed from them, tainting her home with anger and fury and blood.

And before Selene could protest—before she could grip them, and pull them with her, Nyx was pushing her out of the door, and Celeste was turning to face the men that flooded into the kitchen.

They slammed the door behind her. The heavy bolt sounded, as Selene threw herself against the heavy wood, smacking her palms against it and sending an echo of pain up her arms.

No.

Her breathing ragged, she staggered away, staring at the door as if it might somehow open again, as if they might reappear. Nyx smiling slyly at the prank, Celeste prim and disapproving even as her eyes danced with amusement.

But the door did not open.

They had lied to her—had always lied to her. They knew her fate, had spent years waiting for this—whatever this was.

And Nyx and Celeste had lied again, she knew.

For she knew with a grief that threatened to overwhelm her that they would not meet again.

Because the door was still closed, and they had stayed on the other side.

Seconds passed. Her heart pounded in her ears, her throat threatening to close as she struggled to draw breath.

Stop for no-one. Do not pause. Run. As fast as you can.

They had given—she could not think of what they had given. Of those lines of faeytes, of her family , waiting quietly in front of the doors for a fate they had known was coming.

“We do not run from fate,” she whispered to herself. Trying to summon just an ounce of courage to face whatever was coming. “We do not run.”

She thought of the Maiden, and the Crone. Hala’s priestesses, who stood tall and took their place in the line.

For her.

She had to run.

Her chest ached as she spun—

Breath caught in her chest, trapped, choking.

There, at the edge of the garden Devi had tended like a beloved child, stood two Caelumnai.

Although they did not look like any of the travelers she had ever seen. They looked like creatures , oddly shaped silver metal plates covering them entirely. Only their eyes were visible.

But the swords at their sides—she had seen weapons like that before, once. The clean, shining steel gleamed in the bright, cold sunshine, dancing in her line of sight and leaving dark spots behind that she blinked away as she raised her arms.

Hala had not gifted her. Perhaps never would. Her Ascension was in ruins. But they would not know that. They didn’t know what maegis she might have, what her Calling might be.

She braced herself, her chin lifting, and faced them.