Page 4 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)

She would fight. For Nyx. For Celeste. For what they had given, the knowledge hovering in the corner of her mind like the dark phantoms that lingered on the edges of her dreams.

One stepped forward. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword as he stared at her. His eyes gleamed like the metal he wore, all of it blending together to give the illusion of something other . Not flesh and blood, but something else entirely.

She stared back.

Run , they had said.

They had given everything for this. And she would not—could not—think on it too deeply, or she would fall, and she would not get up again.

She would not fail them.

The second soldier; shorter, wider, stepped forward. His hand reached up, but he placed it on the first soldier’s arm. His head shook back and forth.

Quiet words passed between them, words she couldn’t hear over the pulsing beat of her own heart.

And then the first soldier stepped back. One word—low, and fiercely angry, came from the gap in the metal that covered his head. They had always shared a common tongue, the Caelumnai and the faeytes. But the word sounded almost unfamiliar, hissed in fury.

Go.

She blinked, uncertain, and he said it again.

Go.

She ran.

She darted straight between the two men. Translucent, delicate sleeves brushed against unforgiving metal, snagging and tearing, but she did not stop.

She ran through the entrance to the gardens, following the thin path that curled around her home toward the main steps.

There were more men there, men with swords that glistened ruby red, men that shouted when they saw her, but she did not stop as she flew down the steps, cool stones meeting her feet even when she felt as though she might tumble.

She ran across the bridge. The shimmering white adralite stone, always so familiar, was now slick and filthy with red and black and parts and people , people that she might have recognized if she had stopped to look.

But she did not stop.

She ran into the town, down the winding dusty paths that led into the beating heart of Asteria.

Her feet flew, as if those hours of skidding around corners had been nothing but practice for this moment.

She ducked around men who reached for her, her hair flying out behind her as the braid Nyx had wound so tightly unraveled.

There were so many people in the square. A pleading, teeming crowd of people, battling against the men in metal with makeshift weapons. Weapons that did not, could not, hold up against the weight of metal and anger that drove the men who had invaded her home and now ripped it to shreds.

She saw the blacksmith, Jonas, his cheeks wet as he stood in front of a cowering group.

He clutched a hammer in one hand, a bloodied chisel in the other.

And there—Hala save them, there was Leesa, and Emryn—their eyes wide as they crouched behind him with tear-stained faces.

A crumpled form lay beside them, Ria’s distinctive reddish hair mixing with the scarlet pool beneath her as her husband roared his grief at the metal creatures that surrounded him.

She stumbled as if the dagger that pierced her chest was real.

She had spoken to Ria just yesterday, had slipped a cake into Leesa’s pocket for her to share with her younger brother, had been offered a small piece of bread as she listened to the Travelers tell the origin tales.

One last night around the hearth, she had thought. One last night to be a child before her Ascension. And all the way home, she had hugged her elbows and blinked away the burning behind her eyes.

But now—

No.

Children. There were children here.

They were killing children.

Hers. They were hers.

They were her people, and the Caelumnai cut through them like butter.

But Jonas saw her, and he bellowed again, lifting his makeshift weapon and urging her in renewed desperation as he ducked to avoid a blade.

Run.

So she ran, sobs tearing from her chest as she flew past him with unspoken apologies in her eyes. She darted down the smallest path, cobbled stone and glass embedding in her feet as she made for the harbor.

Behind her, angry shouts rang out. Her feet threatened to slip as she heard the thuds, the sound of weapons meeting in a savage clash. The girl glanced over her shoulder.

Jonas had blocked the way.

Barely a second, he bought her. But it mattered. And she pushed her feet forward as tearful cries rose up behind her, as the thud of something heavy hitting the floor sounded.

Do not waste it.

The scream tore from her throat. She had never made a sound like it. The world around her blurred, her bare feet broken and bleeding from the glass that had shattered across the cobblestones.

It traveled, that scream. Louder, brighter, more vivid than anything she had felt before.

A cry of rage , that they would dare come to this place, to her home, with clothes of metal and blades of dripping scarlet, that they would hurt those who had never given them anything but an outstretched hand.

That they would cut those small lives down, that they would dare to steal what Hala and Caelum had gifted them.

When the scream stopped, the world was silent.

Even the birds did not make a sound. There was no screaming. No shouts.

There was only silence.

And she stopped running.

Just in time – just – she caught herself on the very edge of the harbor, her toes dancing with open air. Here, Asteria ended. In front of her, an endless ocean of blue stretched further than her gaze could see.

Smoke stung the girl’s eyes as heat blazed across her face. They had few ships since the faeytes rarely left Asteria, but the ones they had were burning.

Asteria was burning.

Gasping, her head twisted.

People – there were so many people here.

And ships surrounded the island – ships of a size she had never seen, with hundreds of people swarming from them, stepping along wooden planks to set their feet on Asterian soil.

People who pointed at her, and shouted, though no sound passed their lips that she could hear above the screaming inside her own mind.

Behind them, the sea was full of sails. So many more ships, masts pointing toward the midday sun. Like monsters, they crept closer.

She had dreamed this.

And there were more men in metal. They broke free from the scores that descended from those ships, moving toward her in squiggly silver lines as she backed up to the very edge. Her heel nearly slipped on the moss that grew along the stone walls.

They spoke to each other, and to her. Angry, demanding words that climbed over each other with their excitement; sleek, gleaming swords lifted as they surrounded her with eyes of vivid, jeweled color that marked them as Caelumnai.

As if she were some sort of threat, with her bare, bloodied feet and flowers in her tangled hair, and a dress made of gauze and moonlight that her sister had pressed so carefully but now hung in tatters—ripped, and ruined, and brushed with something wet that clung to her legs.

The metal men noticed. Their eyes lowered inside those metal cages, and some of them began to laugh. That laughter—taunting, and loud, and threatening—filled her up. It flooded the empty space inside her chest, and it grew until she felt as if she was drowning in their derision.

It felt like an ember, at first. A small glow, that turned to sparks, and to flames, until she felt as if her skin was crawling with the heat of what she felt as they looked at her.

She pulled her head back, and she spat .

It hit the ground in front of the closest leering soldier, and he stopped.

She had never done anything like it before. Her throat was raw, and she had no breath left.

His face twisted, and he lifted his sword.

Her sisters had been wrong, and her heart ached at what they had given up. There was nowhere to go. There were only the faces in front of her, and the water at her back. She could hear it. The waves crashed against the stone wall, as if it too could sense the rage inside her.

She was alone. There was nobody left.

But they would not have her . She would meet her sisters at the gates of Ellas. She would see them again in the next life.

The girl threw out her arms.

And she stepped back.

They lunged, but she was already falling. Her hair rippled around her face, moonlight dress flowing upright, as she fell.

Her back hit the water with a shock that stole any remaining air from her lungs, and she was dragged down. The waves closed over her head like an embrace, the water that should have been icy was instead warm against her skin in a welcoming caress.

She did not fight it. She breathed, deep and true, and the water that rushed into her lungs burned, but only for a moment.

And then, it was peaceful.

She floated, but her rage did not leave her.

She burned with it.

And the water— the water grew hotter. Until bubbles began to rise and the water began to churn.

She held her rage close. Let herself merge into it, until she knew nothing else.

Her thoughts began to slow.

Hala.

Hala had abandoned her. Abandoned them .

Hala’s priestesses. Selene’s sisters.

Her beloved goddess had left them to this. To be broken and slaughtered, to die alone on the edge of the world.

Perhaps if Hala had not stopped them, she would avenge them.

The girl opened her mouth and screamed again against the salt and the agony that poured down her throat. It was no match for the pain inside her heart. And in that moment, she was grateful she could not love. For she could not imagine a greater agony than this.

Punish them.

Punish all of them.

She screamed, and screamed, and screamed again.

***

Far above her head, where the girl could not hear, people began to cry out.

Her body floated. And soon, she was not alone. Others joined her. So many others. Twisting, bucking, and falling. So many that it seemed as if the sea could not hold them all.

And then—

The world twisted. It flipped, and turned, and spun.

So many fell, as the world turned upside down.

On the shore, the soldiers fell to their knees, and they screamed, too. They begged, and pleaded, but they could do nothing.

The whole world began to scream.

But the girl who might have one day been Selene Amaris took no pleasure in the screams that filled the world as it turned and flipped and changed.

She had no thoughts at all.

For the girl was dead.