Page 55 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)

Chapter thirty-four

Selene

E sme is waiting when we arrive back, Callan turning and striding away with a brief mutter about speaking with Sol before he vanishes around the corner.

Rio slips past me and tugs her into his arms. Esme buries her face in his chest, and I hover awkwardly. The humor has vanished from Rio’s face, replaced by something infinitely more…

More.

I keep my face averted as Esme steps back with a laugh. “I’d wondered where you were.”

“Reassigned to Selene.”

And then he wiggles his eyebrows at her. “So I’ll be around all the time.”

Esme’s cheeks darken, but she rolls her eyes. “Wonderful. Well, I need to get Selene ready for dinner. You can wait out here.”

She tugs me into the bedroom, closing the door on his disappointed expression.

I gesture awkwardly between her and the door. “I didn’t know it was like that between you. You don’t have to help me if you want to spend some time together. I’ve been dressing myself for a long time.”

She doesn’t look at me as she moves over to the bed.

Another dress is laid out, this one familiar in the same way as the one I wore last night.

I wonder whose bedchamber this was collected from—which of my sisters once wore this against her skin, only for the beautiful material to be stuffed in a storage room until Esme found it.

“It’s not like anything. He’s my friend. ”

My stomach drops. I should not have mentioned it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Esme brushes off my awkwardness with a wry smile. “You didn’t. Did anything happen at the dock?”

“No.” Frustrated, I sit on the edge of the bed and lean forward, my elbows on my knees as I rest my chin on my hands. “I don’t know where to start. Callan said he would help me search some of the old records, if they’re still here.”

“Did he?” She bites down on her lower lip. “We can all help search, if that would be easier.”

“I appreciate that.”

She gives up on pretending to smooth down the bedding, throwing herself down beside me instead. “There’s something on your mind. A problem shared is a problem halved, or so my mother used to say. Usually when trying to wrest information out of me.”

“You miss her.” I shift to give her my full attention.

“We all miss people. It’s the curse of those left behind.

” The strong line of her forehead deepens.

“But I find myself forgetting things I once thought would be impossible. My mother’s perfume.

My father’s laughter. My sister’s eyes. I wondered if it was the pretium at first. If it had snuck in when I wasn’t looking and taken them from me. ”

I search my own memories, looking for Nyx’s face. Celeste’s. Their voices. And my chest tightens in understanding and shared grief. “Time takes all things from us eventually.”

“It does.” She sighs. “But if you’d like to talk about whatever is bothering you, I’m here.”

I pull the parchment out once more, running my fingers over it. The words tumble out, slowly at first, and then in a flood as Esme listens.

By the time I’m finished, we’re both lying on our sides across the bed, our cheeks propped on our hands and the parchment between us.

“I’m scared to open it,” I admit. “It could be nothing, or it could be everything.”

And I don’t know what would be worse. To have these few, precious words after so long, to only be able to read them once.

The coward in me wants to delay that moment longer.

To hold onto the possibility of something, whatever it might be, rather than face the disappointment that might come with opening it.

Esme takes a deep breath, her bright eyes on the parchment. “You don’t have to open it.”

My groan slips out, and I drop my forehead to my hands. “Yes, I do.”

“No.” Her voice rises beside me, strengthened with surprising fierceness. “No, you don’t , Selene. You were the one left behind. You only need to do whatever it takes for you to find peace with that. Maybe that means that you choose to open it now, or soon, or never.”

“And if my fate is written here? If I can finally learn what it is?”

That’s what scares me most, I think. That on the small piece of parchment will be words that tear my world apart and leave me in another maelstrom. “It might contain information that will help me with the Never.”

Or it could tell me that my fate is to let them fail. To stand back and do nothing.

Perhaps right now, there is still a choice to be made.

“Would it matter?” Esme taps her finger to her lips, deep in thought. “Don’t you believe that fate is inescapable, either way? With that line of logic, whatever is going to happen will happen regardless of whether or not you read what’s inside that letter—”

Her voice trails off as I run my nail beneath the black crescent wax seal that only the Mother used, peeling it open. “Or we could just open it. That works too. Do you want some privacy?”

“No.” My head jerks up. My body is full. Of energy. Anticipation, nerves. Fear. My heart thumps unsteadily but quickly. “Please stay.”

“All right,” she says quietly. She rolls onto her back, closing her eyes. “I’ll be here.”

I sit up, crossing my legs beneath me as I run the pads of my fingers over the swirls and loops.

Mother, help me.

And I begin to read.

***

Selene,

I have dedicated my life to Hala’s service without thought or regret. But that time is coming to an end, as all things must, and my fate grows ever nearer.

As does yours.

We do not read children. Fate takes time to settle, and the bright sparks of youth forge their own path. But on the night you were born, we looked into the shadows — Mother, Maiden, and Crone—for no child had been born to us in so long that we knew it as a sign from Hala.

In those shadows, we saw not one fate, but three. Each of us saw something different.

The Crone’s vision for your fate matched those of your sisters, to end abruptly at the end of a sword. But the shadows changed, shifted. Two others followed, so closely entwined that I could almost see the edge. One was offered to the Maiden, and the other to me.

Your fate may yet fall either way.

Two possibilities. Which path you will follow will be determined only by you. I have learned that fate does not appreciate our involvement, and so can say little more, for fear that I will influence a path you would otherwise not have trod.

I have watched you grow from a babe to a child, to a girl who threw off the shackles which bound us to our vows. You dance, and sing, and I wish you to know that every part of this otherwise quiet existence has been so much brighter to us for your presence.

Faeytes do not love. But I watched you with Nyx, with Celeste, and I wondered. In truth, I have wondered many things since you entered our lives.

I am sorry for what lies ahead. But I have faith in you.

We all do, Selene, every one of us. Know that we walk toward our fate with full knowledge and without regret.

Do not grieve our end, for we face it gladly.

This is something we can do, your family, to ensure that you never face the fate seen by the Crone.

This was always our fate.

But you — you have a chance to change your fate. To influence it.

There are dark days ahead. Our world is shifting, and the gods are angry. You will be at the heart of this, and I send you what little help I can to guide you. I have called on others, also.

You have allies amongst the Caelumnai; one of whom is the male who sired you, but you have enemies, too. Tread carefully.

It is the smaller moments that will shape the battle you face. Know that you forge a new path instead of following one well-trodden and learn from my mistakes. Do not forsake the person you are, for the faeyte you think you should be.

Your gifts will help you. Wield them without hesitation when the time comes. And know that the gods are not the people they once were.

This is the only thing I can give you, my daughter, and I pray that it will be enough.

I am more sorry than you will ever know that I will not see your first flight. That none of this is as it should have been.

We name you Selene Amaris.

We named you for your light, and because you were promised. Nyx and Celeste chose your forename, for they claimed the right and they were right to do so. But I offer you part of mine, gifted by a once-benevolent goddess, in the hope that you will accept it.

May your bright light guide you through the darkness, and may it always bring you home.

Lucia Amaris

***

We sit in silence for almost an hour. I stare down at the letter, my mind whirling.

Esme clears her throat. “Did it change anything?”

“Maybe,” I whisper. And then I let it fall from my fingers. “Would you tell them… I don’t feel well? I don’t think I’ll go to dinner tonight.”

A hand squeezes my shoulder.

Esme says nothing. But she nudges me into bed, pulling the covers over me and smoothing my hair back before slipping out of the door.