Page 50 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

Starwatcher

T he late afternoon sun glistens in the snow, scattering light in tiny, blinding pieces. I squint my eyes and bring down my ax on the stump, releasing my pent up energy on the piece of wood.

Swing, chop, separate.

Since Atlys left last night, I’ve had nothing but time to digest that I’m a Starwatcher. Once my initial shock wore off, it started to make sense.

At least a little.

I had written off my vision of the two Watchers as a daydream until Atlys mentioned that Starwatchers can see the past. From what I recall, one of the boys was a guard of sorts and the other one… was a Starwatcher! I just know it. A Starwatcher that lost something important to him.

Swing, chop, separate.

The details of the memory are hazy, but I remember the key points. They lost a moon stone. One that Lord Clayoq of the Forest Tribe had offered as the Summit’s prize that year. Why was that stone so important to the Starwatcher that he needed to win it back?

Swing, chop, separate.

What did Elder Markus say about Starwatchers again?

Swing, chop, separate.

I grunt in frustration and throw the ax aside, plopping down into the snow.

For a memory as fantastic as mine, it’s absolutely baffling how easily I can write off information I don’t deem as important at the time.

The memory of yesterday’s vision, however, is still burned on the inside of my eyelids.

Row, I hope that you are alive.

I needed more than ever to learn the ways of the Watchers, learn how to master my abilities, especially now that I know what I actually am.

Even though I have no idea what this means for me, something deep within feels…

right. Like I had been previously using the wrong key, unable to open the door to my true self.

I need to get back to the Watch and research Starwatcher abilities, talk with Ramona, or maybe even ask Professor Novak. Surely he would be able to train me or at least point me in the right direction.

I pick up a few pieces of wood and throw them in a pile on the side of the cabin where Heru is currently curled. She looks at me from the sides of her eyes.

“Could you sense the Source within me?” I ask.

Heru just puffs her feathers up, somehow managing to make the gesture of confirmation. Yes .

I jolt at the velvety female voice in my head. “You can talk?”

Clearly, Starheart , she says. Rocs can mind-speak to their Riders and others, should we choose them worthy .

“Why didn’t you speak to me sooner?” I hastily try to recall all of the things I may have said in front of Heru.

You needed space , Heru answers simply.

I think of what Garrot said to me before the battle, that it’s rare for rocs to choose human riders. I touch the white feather now tucked into my bodice. “You chose me. Why?”

You are a brave warrior, but in your soul, I sense something far greater. A heart burning of a million stars.

“You flatter me, Heru,” I say, unsure of how the roc can sense that about me, a Prentice Teller turned warrior, though at best I feel like an imposter, at worst, a nuisance. I add, “I am deeply grateful you chose me. But what will happen to you when I return to the Watch? Where will you go?”

I will return north until I am of need to you, Starheart. Call to me on the winds, and I shall come, Heru says. Now rest before the Soul Eater comes once more.

Clearly Heru could only mean Atlys. We agreed to meet again tonight, before I leave tomorrow for the Watch, so he can train me in the arts of Source magic.

After a restless nap, I watch as the sun sinks below the horizon, casting a warm glaze over the snow tipped trees.

I don’t realize I am humming until Atlys strides in the front door of the cabin, interrupting me mid-song.

“A knock would be nice! What if I was changing?”

His eyes darken. “Apologies for startling you. Though I am not sure I would be sorry if I walked in on you changing.”

I feel the edges of my lips turn upward and try my best to ignore the vivid picture in my mind of Atlys walking in on me naked— no . Not thinking of this now.

“Why did we have to wait until dusk to meet?” I ask. “We could have been training all day.”

“I am not permitted on the Surface during the day,” he says flatly.

Wait, what? This didn’t make sense. I had seen him during the daytime before, right? During the Summit Presentation and the second task.

Atlys sees the question on my face. “Do you want the short answer or the long answer?”

I consider the limited time we have to train until he leaves, but my curiosity wins. I can sense that he is opening up to me more than he would others at this moment. I hate how that makes my pulse flutter. “The long answer.”

“For the past one hundred years, the treaty has included clauses to ban me, and the rest of Terraguard, from the Surface during the day, with the exception of the Summit every 25 years. During the day, I must remain within the Terraguard layer of the core. It is the same reason why I could not fight with you at Redrock. It is not my people attacking, Akemi. It’s the Jord.

” He fiddles around in the breast pocket of his jacket and pulls out a rolled cigroot.

I cock my head, speechless for a moment until the questions flood out.

That’s awful. Old prejudices against Terraguard serve as a baseline for a treaty, refusing all of his people to the surface.

Suddenly, his unnaturally pale skin makes more sense.

As for the attacks, I had suspected the Jord, but figured the Underworld Courts were more aligned than they actually are.

But something still didn’t quite match up.

“The battle at Redrock went well into the evening. Why didn’t you come then? ”

He sucks in air through his teeth, looking pained.

My anger flares, waiting for the excuse that can somehow justify his actions.

“I knew with the Elven forces joining, Redrock would be supported enough to withstand the attack. I…” he hesitates.

“I tried seeking reason with Lord Rollo, to force him to call off these Underlings. Punish them for their disregard of the Peace Treaty. Yet he claims he does not sanction the attacks. Claims they are rogue mountain clans and outcasts outside his control. I don’t believe it.

He is up to something, and whatever it is, it isn’t good.

I cannot make a single misstep, Akemi, or my people will suffer. ”

I ponder his argument, knowing full well that Lord Rollo himself was at Goldenpine during the attack. These are no rogue groups attacking. There is a reason, but what could that be?

Atlys lights his cigroot, turns, and pauses in the door frame, looking furious from whatever memory he seemed to be recalling. “By the time I was done talking with the Jord Lord, the battle was won.” Then he walks outside.

“Where are you going?” I call, but follow him regardless.

Atlys is lying on a pile of furs he undoubtedly just conjured. He taps the space next to him expectantly.

“Lay back,” he says. As I lay down, our shoulders brush, and I shiver at the contact.

He mistakes my movements for a chill and throws a heavy blanket over me.

“Let’s test your Starwatcher abilities. I may not know how to do this myself, but I know the basic concept to get us started.

” He turns to look at me. “This might take a while for us to get your abilities under control. You cannot have another outburst accidentally, otherwise your true nature will be discovered and you’ll be a target for all of these royal courts wandering the Watch.

Hels, the Watch itself has been known to overuse Starwatchers of the past. Forcing them into spying or other dangerous situations.

” He turns away from me and looks toward the sky, his sharp profile outlined by starlight. “Now look up.”

Above us, the stars wink and pulse with energy, coaxing me to stare endlessly and close my eyes at the same time.

“Now open your senses, and imagine that right here”—he lightly traces a circle in the center of my forehead—“is the center of your being. Pull away all of your thoughts as they gain consciousness until you are left with only this.” He taps my forehead once more.

I close my eyes and start removing my thoughts, one by one.

“Good,” Atlys murmurs. “Now extend your awareness outward. Past your physical body and into the sky.”

“Okay,” I say more confidently than I feel. Attempting to cast all of my thoughts away is proving to be more challenging than I initially had thought. Atlys is laying so close to me, I can hear his deep breathing, feel the warmth radiating off of his body from under the furs.

Focus! I eventually pluck away all of my thoughts but… nothing is happening. I’m stuck just looking at the blue-black space behind my eyelids. I let out a groan. “I thought we would be training, not meditating.”

“Much of a Starwatcher’s powers lie with your connection to the stars. Try to reach out to them. Feel them. Listen.”

It takes me another few minutes to clear my head of thoughts.

I let the unhelpful commentary in my brain flow past until there is nothing but the calm beating of my heart and the distant hooting owl.

I wait there another minute in total darkness and feel nothing.

I open my eyes and glance at Atlys. He is lying still, arm propped underneath his head, eyes closed and not seeming to notice my slight defiance.

I tilt my head back and take in the star-flecked sky. Millions of tiny glimmering stars hang above, waiting, watching. Always present.

I imagine a hand reaching like tendrils of smoke, letting myself mentally reach skyward. There! I feel it. Like hundreds of pin pricks, each shining with a different yet similar presence. “I feel them!”

“Good,” Atlys praises me, and I hate the way my stomach clenches instantly in response, “now try to concentrate on just one, coax it into sharing a memory.”

I try stretching my mental hands farther than before, but reaching out to one star amongst so many is like trying to hold water. Just when I feel their presence drawing near, they slip through my fingers.

After a few hours, my head feels like mush.

Thoughts collide and trip over one another, yet beneath all of the fatigue, there is an undercurrent of hope.

Maybe if I can harness my Starwatcher powers in time, I’ll be able to use them in some way as an advantage for the Summit.

Because there is no way in Hels that I’m not going back to the Watch to win this fucking thing.

I have to. There are no other options. Marrow is gone, Row possibly too, but somewhere out there, my family is alive.

And I will do whatever it takes to protect them.

I attempt one more time to reach my senses upwards to the star but fall short. A shaky breath escapes me.

Atlys turns on his side and raises a tentative hand to my cheek. His eyes harden. “You’re cold.”

Before I open my mouth to deny it and beg to keep practicing, my teeth chatter.

“I’m sorry, I should have realized.” Atlys pulls back the furs and stands, offering me a large hand. I take it and stand, missing the heat from his body and shivering once more. Snow glitters in the moonlight as we walk back to the cabin. The instant warmth is incredible.

Atlys stops in the doorway, leaning his large body against the frame.

With my mind fully exhausted, I cannot seem to think straight. All I can seem to focus on is the sliver of tattoos showing on his veiny forearm and what it might feel like to be wrapped by them. I clear my throat.

“You were amazing tonight, Akemi. But we will need to keep practicing these new powers of yours. The Source left unchecked within us can lead to terrible outcomes.”

“Then I’ll make sure I keep it in check.

” I lift my chin and try to sound as dismissive as possible, yet the bastard smirks and I feel my core heat again.

Damn it. I work to rebuild my defenses. I can feel my emotional pendulum swinging the other direction, protecting me from this predator.

“I’m returning to the Watch tomorrow,” I add as more of an afterthought.

Get it together, Akemi! “Well, this is it. Goodnight.”

Atlys just raises a silver pierced brow and lets his grin widen, showing teeth.

He takes two long strides until his chest is pressed to mine.

“And what if I’m not ready to say goodbye just yet?

” He takes another few steps, and I retreat, not daring to look away.

Something primal snapped in him just now, I can sense it.

“Seeing as I already said it, you don’t have too much of an option, I fear,” I say breathlessly. My heart thunders wildly against the patterns of our steps. For every one of his steps forward, I match, stepping backward until my back hits the kitchen counter.

Atlys prowls closer until we are touching, his breeches pressing into my long, thin shirt I borrowed from the closet. He curls down his massive frame until our foreheads are touching. Our hearts are a chaos of rhythms and beats.

He tilts his head, nuzzling my neck. His broad chest expands with each undulating breath, drinking in my scent.

I’m frozen in place, half terrified, half aroused.

His stance is deadly and mesmerizing at the same time.

Never more have I felt like a small human, and yet I feel like I have all the power.

I arch into him, letting a breathy moan escape my lips. Gods. I want him.

He stills.

My heart ricochets off my ribs.

Slowly, Atlys turns until his mouth brushes against my ear. The heat of his breath raises the hair on the back of my neck. “Goodnight.”

Then without another word, he slips past me and earthwalks straight through the counter and wall.

I huff out a frustrated breath and attempt to quell the lingering fire from my veins, only to fall asleep tossing and turning with the same deep raspy word rumbling over and over in my head.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.