Page 44 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)

“Well met, Selene.” He sheathes the sword at his side. The line behind him mimics his action in unison, the movement eerie. Tobias sweeps our group, pausing. “Riordan.”

Rio steps forward, away from Callan. His frame straightens as he brings his fingers to his forehead in a crisp salute. “Captain.”

“I believe the garrison was expecting you several days ago.” His eyes drop to the bandage visible above Rio’s neckline, but he doesn’t ask.

Rio nods. “My apologies. I’ll head straight there as soon as we get back.”

“Good.” Tobias eyes him with disapproval, before surveying the rest of us. “Callan, there’s a cart waiting. I’ll escort our guest.”

“She stays with me.” Callan’s jaw is tight. “Petyr will expect it.”

I let out a slow breath when Tobias eventually nods. “You’ll travel together, then. We’ll escort you both.”

He waves an arm over his head in a circle. Soldiers step forward, giving me a wide berth as they edge around me and make their way onto Volatus , their boots thumping against wood behind me. “They’ll begin the unloading. Anything we should know about?”

Sol pulls a parchment from inside his leather jerkin, handing it over. “Inventory list.”

Tobias hands it off to another faceless metal figure. “Follow me.”

Ahead of me, farewells are murmured as Merrick clasps Callan’s shoulder. He offers me a smile before taking Leo’s hand.

When the cart is led forward, a frame of linen and wood stretching over it to offer cover from the elements, Callan waits for me before allowing Sol and Rio to nudge him inside.

I hesitate before accepting Sol’s hand, pushing through the gap and wincing as my wings pull. Callan glances up at me, an unembarrassed apology on his face. “Not the largest space.”

My wings brush against both sides. “Is that why the others aren’t coming in?”

“I asked them to give us a minute. I thought you might wish to gather your thoughts before meeting with Petyr. Unfortunately, Tobias is not stupid, and he’s well-versed in the effects of the pretium. He’ll suspect if he sees me mounting a horse.”

The cart lurches beneath me. Callan grabs my hand, pulling me down beside him. Both of us bounce as the wheels roll over cobbled stone. “How are you feeling?”

I watch as he turns my wrist over. His fingers run over the bandage still wrapped around my skin, and he begins to unravel it as I consider his question. “I’m not sure, truthfully.”

He says nothing. But his fingers run over the raised red lines of skin he reveals. “These are new. The marks I wrapped have healed.”

I bite the inside of my cheek but say nothing in response to the look he gives me. Callan shakes his head, tracing the skin again. “I’ll get a salve from Matthias for you.”

“There’s no need. I’m used to them.”

“Friends look after each other.” He reaches for my other arm, his fingers working to unknot the linen. “Let me see.”

Callan leaves me to my thoughts, quietly rebinding my wrists as the stone beneath us gives way to something smoother. The way to the temple pops up in my mind. Packed mud, flattened and hardened by thousands of pairs of feet. “We’ll be at the bridge in a moment.”

The last time I crossed it, my feet had landed in broken glass and blood and debris. The soles of my feet still bear the scars.

“Well remembered.” Callan stretches. “They’ll take us straight to Petyr.”

Us. Not just me. I wonder what he’ll be like. “Are you much alike?”

“Not particularly.” He sighs. “Petyr is charming enough, I suppose. Quick to anger, but also quick to forgive. He’s very focused on the survival of the Caelumnai. I believe he’ll see you as a valuable ally in achieving that.”

“And if I were not his ally?”

“I wouldn’t recommend letting him know that.” Callan’s eyes examine the side of my face.

I consider his words. And then I glance around, at our undoubtedly shoddy surroundings. “Will he not celebrate your return?”

Callan’s laugh is brief. “Within the court, and to an extent. He’ll use the excuse for a lavish dinner, I’m sure. He usually does. But he prefers to keep our return as quiet as possible, though the town will likely have spotted Volatus coming in. He worries about looting.”

And maybe he prefers not to remind people that his brother holds the key to their survival. The thought crosses my mind, but I don’t voice it. “I see.”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you.” His voice softens.

“Because of the Never.” My words are distracted, still thinking over the possible dynamics I might be walking into. Boralas made politics into a work of art. Perhaps I have learned enough to be able to hold my ground. “I’m not concerned about that.”

Something like a groan sounds in his chest.

I twist, caught off guard. “Are you in pain?”

“It’s the root,” he says after a moment. “It makes me nauseous.”

A few minutes of silence pass.

“Here,” he says finally. Reaching forward, he pulls a dagger from his waist and slices through the canvas until there is a gap big enough to look through. “I should have thought—if you wanted to see.”

I was right in my guess as to our location. As I look out, we approach the large, wide stone bridge that leads to the temple, having already passed through—or maybe around—the town. When I tilt my head, the temple comes into sight up ahead. For a moment—just for a moment—my heart soars in my chest.

Home , it seems to sing. Welcome home.

All thoughts flee my mind as I stare at it until it blurs.

The sight still has the power to take my breath away, to remind me of my own insignificance as the cart carries us over the river.

I glance down to where the edge of the cobbled bridge meets the water.

The river below that was once greedy and thriving seems no less so now.

Water surges along, and my eyes follow it into the distance.

“The Falls,” Callan says quietly. “They’re the only way we can collect fresh water, but they get smaller every year.”

They do not feel small. In the distance, a storming, thundering rush of water tumbles from nowhere, falling through the sky toward the ground like a storm, ready to devour everything in its path. It looks endless—and yet it is not enough.

Nothing is ever enough for the Caelumnai. That’s what drew them here in the first place, to my home, to Asteria, where they swept through to leave only death and destruction in their wake instead of claiming sanctuary we would gladly have provided.

The walls that stretch around the temple, enclosing it, look the same. Pristine and shimmering as if with the light of the moon, the adralite jutting proudly from the ground.

A gift from Hala. Now protecting my enemy.

Behind those walls, the layout spreads out in my mind like a map. The thirteen levels that make up the main building. Four of them sit beneath the ground, a space where even Hala’s faeytes feared to tread.

None of us like being under the ground.

But the upper levels are visible as we get closer.

More adralite rises up, almost touching the sky as I crane my head.

Beyond the wall, I can just catch sight of the pillars—eight of them, four on either side of the wooden temple doors.

They stand straight and tall, propping up a balcony I spent my childhood exploring, laying on, dreaming on, whilst the adults were inside or at Sanctum.

But I never felt alone. I would talk to Hala, pretending I was just as close to my goddess as my sisters, who checked on me with a mixture of indulgent smiles and scolding fingers, depending on if I had escaped my lessons early and with permission.

I wonder who walks along that balcony now.

At the top of it all, at the highest point of the temple, is the Sanctum. A space for us to worship, to mourn, to gather, as close to the sky as possible.

Closer to Hala. Not that I ever had the chance to experience it.

Directly ahead, the gates set into the external wall are closed.

They were never closed before. We never closed these gates or the main doors, never turned anyone away who needed us.

We opened up our home to whoever needed it, using the vast amount of space gifted us for healing, for tutoring, for helping.

Perhaps that’s why they escaped the Shift unscathed.

They would have been open on that day, open for the Caelumnai army to sweep through and devour anything and anyone in its path.

But they’re closed now. The shimmering glass twists and curls into the sky, endless lengths resembling the twisted branches of a tree entwining together. My gaze follows them up.

I stop breathing. “What’s that? Up there? Hanging from the gate?”

At the sharpness in my tone, Callan sits upright. He glances out, seeing where we are. And his skin leeches, his tone lightening beneath the gold to an ashen pallor. “Gods. I should have warned you.”

Stabbing pain pulses in my chest. My anger builds. “This isn’t something you should forget .”

Even from here, the robes give her away. Fluttering in the wind are rags of silver that drape over the sharpest spikes.

Not hanging, but… impaled.

I retch. Nausea climbs up my throat in an abrupt rush, gathering at the back of my mouth in a searing burn that makes me double over, gripping my stomach.

She will not decay. Faeytes do not return to the earth, but to the sky. Without the final rites, she will remain in Hala’s image until she is returned to Ellas. On display, ignored by the Caelumnai who walk beneath without bothering to look up in brutal dismissal.

“Let me out.” I stand, almost stumbling, and reach for the exit. The cart jolts beneath my feet, nearly sending me tumbling to the side. When Callan grabs for me, I push him away. “I need to see.”

Who is it? Deva, or Aylina? Nyx? Celeste?

“Selene—”

“I will know which of my sisters is up there, Callan. Let. Me. Out .”

I cannot breathe. The space around us is too small as Callan surges to his feet and we rock further. “Listen to me.”

“Stay away!” I reach for the canvas, ready to rip it apart, but he pushes in front of me, blocking my way.

My maegis erupts .