Sacrifice (Catalyst Moon #5), page 45
Milo and Pig hurried off, and Stonewall faced the ocean once more. Tor, he thought. Father.
It wasn’t a plea for help. It wasn’t an attempt to find the memories of Tor tucked away in the Fata’s shared consciousness, the ones Stonewall hadn’t yet summoned the will to search for. Tor was gone, had been gone since bringing Stonewall and the others to Pillau that fateful night six months ago. No, this was an acknowledgment of a bond that Stonewall was still trying to understand.
Unbidden, a memory of Tor’s voice rose in his mind. You are home, my son. You are safe.
A warm blanket descended over Stonewall’s heart. He smiled, and headed back to the city, where his family waited.
* * *
Magic hovered in the air like the scent of jessamin, but Kali was used to the feeling here. She smiled at the little girl. “Very good, Riva. You’ll be writing on your own before too long.”
The child nodded, her eyes darting from the chalkboard before her to Kali when she thought Kali wasn’t looking. Kali, of course, pretended not to notice, only touched Riva’s shoulder in reassurance and moved to her next student. Half a dozen children sat on cushions in the airy room in the Zhee embassy. Open windows on either side allowed the sea breeze to push away the worst of the heat, and the embassy itself sheltered its inhabitants with cool marble.
A ripple of heat and magic swelled through the room, preceding Sadira. An answering wave of hunger for magic lifted in Kali’s mind, but she quelled the feeling by touching the silverwood seed pendant Idalina had made for her. Sadira lived here in the embassy, and her power, her presence, clung to these marble walls like the scent of the sea.
Footsteps sounded at the door, and every child jerked upright. “Ija’Sadira!” one of the little girls cried joyously. Sadira appeared in the doorway, a tray of sweetrolls in her grasp, and the children leaped up from their cushions to swarm her.
Sadira laughed and gently urged them back, setting the tray down on a table. “One at a time, please,” she said to them, adding the same in her native Zhee. Since the city of Pillau was so close to Zhee, as the crow flew, many of the local dialects included Zhee words and phrases. Kali was still learning.
Luckily, the children weren’t too unruly—in addition to reading and writing lessons, they were each regularly fed and clothed—so Sadira was eventually able to slip to Kali’s side by one of the massive windows.
Kali grinned at her friend. “They love you so much more than me. It’s a little unfair.”
“Then you should bring sweets more often.” Sadira smiled back, but her eyes darted to Kali’s pendant: a silverwood seed set into a silver ring, making a fingertip-sized banded sphere. “You still need help to be around me?”
“Ida’s working on growing trees from the silverwood seeds I found,” Kali replied. “But this is fine, for now.”
Although most of the magic-users who’d made their way to Pillau were already renegades, Idalina Dilt had arrived in Pillau about a week after Kali and her friends. Redfern Province had apparently shut its borders to all outsiders, but Ida and several other Redfern mages she’d found had refused to stay hidden and had come to pledge themselves to the Assembly’s cause. Thank the stars, too, for between the thalo and the silverwood, a mage who could grow plants with magic was invaluable. Few mages had found their freedom; most of the bastion mages were, as far as Kali knew, still in captivity.
Sadira glanced at the children, who were eating and chattering peacefully. “I apologize for my delay this morning, but the Zhee ambassador enjoys talking too much.”
Danger danced down Kali’s spine but she kept her expression calm. “Did they have news of Lasath?”
“Nothing,” Sadira replied. She touched Kali’s arm. “Argent is gone, Kali. Do not fear.”
Kali clutched the silverwood seed pendant again, breathing deeply to banish her anxiety. “I know. It’s just… No news should be good, right? But to hear nothing from Lasath, after what happened… The city was in shambles, the castle was destroyed, the queen murdered. How can we have heard nothing?”
Sadira spread her hands. “The ambassador has sent covert soldiers to assess the city, but they’ve reported it’s been abandoned.”
“Like Whitewater,” Kali whispered. Dread seized her heart. “There aren’t thralls in Lasath, are there?”
Sadira gave her an odd look. “You cannot tell?”
Of course she could, which was why her anxiety now was ridiculous. Kali gave her friend a watery smile. “Old habits. There are no thralls anymore.” At least not that she, Stonewall, Milo, or any of the other Fata had been able to find. The thrall nightmare was over.
A spark of laughter burst from the children, and Sadira smiled over at them. “This is good,” she murmured, touching the windowsill. “This place, this work.”
“Between our little ramshackle school and the sentinel clinic, work is all you do these days,” Kali replied gently.
Sadira did not pull her gaze from the children. “The One has led me where I am most needed. I am fortunate it is also where I most wish to be.”
“And that you were able to convince the Zhee folks here to accommodate us,” Kali added.
Another, more knowing smile crept to Sadira’s face. “They could not refuse me. Besides, this,” she gestured to the children, “is how things are in Zheem. We do not abandon those who need our help the most, as often happens in Aredia. Perhaps I cannot return home, but I can make a new one.”
Kali glanced out of the window. Beyond the lapis buildings that made up the aptly named Blue City, the Sea of Asherat rippled in the sunlight. “If only we could do this on a larger scale. Teach those who wish to learn. Heal those who are hurt.” One of the children screeched in mock-anger and Kali winced at the piercing echo. “But even the ambassador’s goodwill might have limits.”
Sadira nodded, her blue eyes eager. “Perhaps we could open a proper school, with a devoted area for healers, magic and otherwise.”
Another shout made both women look over at the children, where Riva gaped at one of the sweetrolls as it hovered above her head. The other children had scrambled back, eyes wide, but Riva was sobbing. “I’m sorry,” she cried, flinging up her hands to cover her eyes. The sweetroll bobbed in the air but did not fall. “Mama says I’m not supposed to use magic, but Euan was trying to take it from me!”
“Was not,” came Euan’s indignant reply.
Kali and Sadira exchanged glances before they went to Riva’s side. Sadira put an arm around her shoulder, soothing her in Zhee and Pillauan, while Kali plucked the sweetroll from the air. She glanced at the girl, trying to sense magic, but Sadira’s presence overwhelmed her senses.
How many more mages were out there, too afraid to reveal their powers? Kali made a show of examining the sweetroll before passing it back to Riva. “It’s all right, dear heart,” Kali said to the girl. “You’re not in trouble at all.”
The other children had watched this little drama, but now they refocused their attention on the remaining treats.
“Does this happen often?” Sadira asked, kneeling to look the girl in the eyes.
Riva sniffed. “Since I was little. Mama says I shouldn’t…” She bit her lip. “Mama said I shouldn’t let anyone know. But she’s gone now and I…” Her eyes watered.
Sadira hugged her shoulders and shot Kali a look. But Kali didn’t need Sadira—or Baat’s Fata senses—to explain Riva’s grief and loss. Most of these children were orphans. Kali thought of Stonewall, Drake, Eris, and the countless others who’d been set adrift by the system that should have kept them safe.
A school, she thought, and more. A place to learn and to share what knowledge was stolen from humanity. A haven for all.
The meridians would have to be careful how they shared what they learned, for even the sparse knowledge they’d gleaned so far from the Fata would likely shatter human society.
With effort, she knelt to meet Riva’s eyes. “You’re among friends now, and you have nothing to fear.”
Kali smiled, and the little mage-girl smiled back.
* * *
Stonewall would never tire of dancing with Kali. Neither of them were skilled, but it didn’t matter when they stumbled together among the more proficient dancers at the wedding celebration. But even so, he welcomed the moment when most of the others had either fallen asleep on the blankets and pillows set out on the beach or slipped away to sleep off their mirth. Only Flint and Rook remained awake nearby, sitting close and speaking quietly, hands twined. Milo and Naree had wandered off down the beach but hadn’t gone out of eyesight. Drake and Nat had disappeared a while ago: some Canderi wedding tradition involving a “stolen” mount—or borrowed boat, in this case—and a few days solely in each other’s company.
Stonewall looked down at Kali. “Tired yet?”
Sweat gleamed on her face but she only grinned up at him. “I took a nap earlier, after my visit with Gan, so I’m not…” She trailed off, yawning. “Well, maybe a little.”
A tinge of violet caught his eye and he glanced out over the inky sea, where a faint glow had started to creep to the horizon. Dawn was closer than he’d realized. “Feel like watching the sunrise?”
She laced their hands together. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
They went a little ways down the beach, toward Milo and Naree. Kali clung to Stonewall’s hand for support, but the swimming lessons had helped strengthen her knee enough to increase her stamina.
Kali leaned into his side. “The ceremony was perfect. I’m so happy for Drake and Nat.”
A warm glow of love filled Stonewall at the memory of his brother’s beaming smile when he danced with his new husband. “Me, too.” But as they walked, his earlier conversation with Drake returned. “What do you think about getting married?”
Her eyes lit up. “Well, naturally the religious aspect doesn’t mean much to me, but given how popular it is, I think I’m in the minority. Also, I do wonder how many of our Aredian traditions were dictated by the Fata Elders. I haven’t had a moment to properly sift through all Baat’s memories, but I have a feeling that ceremonies emphasizing order and balance are relics of the Elders’ attempts to keep the human population in line. I wonder how humans got married before encountering the Fata – how our ancestors did….everything, really.”
Stonewall could not help but chuckle. “That’s all fascinating, but what I meant was…do you want to get married?”
She paused, her bare feet sinking in the soft sand as she looked up at him. “Depends. Are you proposing?”
The thread between their hearts glowed bright, stronger for having been broken and remade. Through that bond he sensed her trust in him, her compassion, her desire; a swirling current of love and hope that made him buoyant. As he always did in these moments, he returned the feelings, and her smile resonated through her spirit as well as in her eyes.
How lucky could one person be, to feel a love so all-encompassing, like a heartbeat, like the sea. He smiled at her. “In my mind, we already are, in this life and all those that will come after.”
“Oh, good,” she said, chuckling. “I’m exhausted from Drake and Nat’s wedding. I can’t imagine throwing another any time soon. And,” she added, squeezing his hand, “I feel much the same.”
He squeezed back. “I know.”
The dark sky lightened to pink and purple, shot with gold, and they paused to watch. Kali stood on her tiptoes, the wind blowing her hair around her face, eyes flickering between the sea and sky. “There’s so much to discover out there.”
Love poured through Stonewall, love and awe and joy – both his and that of Wild Eyes. Gratitude filled him. Thank you, Tor, he thought as he embraced Kali. For everything.
They watched the sunrise together.
* * *
When the sun had finally climbed above the horizon, the meridians met on the beach, far away from the city or anyone else who might come upon them. Kali gave Naree a warm smile, hoping to ease the former Cipher’s nerves, and Naree smiled back.
“I’m ready,” she said, her chin high.
But Milo hesitated. “Kali…about the whole meridian mage thing…”
A swell of longing pulsed through Kali at the thought of more power, but she fought it back. She would always live with this feeling, to some extent, but she had proved to herself she could carry this burden. But still. “No mages should become meridians,” she said as gently as she dared. “The Fata can’t have access to mage magic. It’s just too dangerous. Besides, Seren’s gift—magic itself—was meant to help humans defend ourselves against the Fata.”
“But you have that power,” Milo replied, also gently. “And you manage.”
Stonewall touched her shoulder but spoke to Milo. “Let it go.”
But Milo only looked at her, his eyes wide, a faint light gleaming in the vibrant blue depths. Please, Kali, he sent through their silent speech. Won’t you reconsider?
In response, she sent back a selection of memories: of rust-red dirt mingling with fresh blood; the final cries of the mages whose lives she’d stolen; of her own despair and later numbness in the aftermath. Tal had given her life to allow Kali another chance, and Kali would not let that sacrifice go to waste.
Stonewall gripped her hand and love flowed into her, easing the tightness in her chest enough for her to try and voice her feelings. “I was foolish and threw myself into a terrible situation,” she managed. “But now I know better. I must spare the future meridians this pain. No one else should have to go through what I did.”
Kali’s memories and emotions struck the meridians’ bond like a plucked viol string, and Milo sucked in a breath. Naree glanced between them, clearly at a loss, but said only, “I stand with Kali’s decision.”
“As do I,” Stonewall added.
Milo lowered his eyes, nodding. “Very well.” He glanced at Naree, and his face transformed with a smile. “Ready?”
She smiled back. “Yes.”
The four of them stood ankle deep in the sea, the occasional wave lapping against their knees. Through their bond, Kali sensed Stonewall calling the Fata who waited in the Shadowlands. A new presence stepped forward in her mind: Sun Leaf, glowing with eagerness.
We are ready, Sun Leaf said through the meridians’ minds, and the four of them gripped each other’s hands, preparing for the young Fata to cross over into their world, into Naree’s waiting spirit.
Kali called upon Baat’s memories, as Stonewall did with Wild Eyes, and Milo with Sarkiss. Through this, they brought Sun Leaf across the river of souls, the source of the Fata’s power, and as the river flowed to the sea, so too did Sun Leaf’s spirit flow from one place to another. Naree gasped and starlight brightened her eyes, and then it was done. Her spirit sparkled in Kali’s mind: bright, curious, eager.
Kali called to her through their new bond, Welcome home.
Naree laughed aloud, inhaling the ocean air, sloshing her feet in the water, as Sun Leaf’s spirit celebrated this rebirth.
The immense scope of what they had done and what they had yet to do filled Kali with hope and awe and love. Her heart was light as she watched Naree, felt Naree and Sun Leaf’s shared joy through their bond: another soul, reborn, and the river flowed on forever.
***
Want more Kali & Stonewall goodness? Read the extended epilogue: https://bf.laloga.com/sacrificeextendedepilogue
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Hello there!
I dearly hope you’ve enjoyed this prologue to the Starborn Souls saga! There will be multiple books (and series) set within Starborn Souls, so I encourage you to visit my site at laloga.com/newsletter and join my email list to be the first to know of my next release.
Additionally, there is an amazing (if I may say) extended epilogue to this book: https://bf.laloga.com/sacrificeextendedepilogue
I started writing what would eventually become books 1 – 3 of Catalyst Moon in September of 2012. As I write this note, it’s June of 2021. These characters and this story have been a part of my life for so long, in some ways I hardly know what to do with myself after writing “the end.” But mostly I’m eager to delve into the continuing story and world I’m creating, because there’s nothing else I’d rather do.
This epilogue is in part a reflection of my own feelings about this story: anxiety that I’ve screwed something up or missed some important mark; hope for what’s to come; gratitude and love, above all else. I’m grateful for my loved ones, my soul-bonded, who’ve helped me during every step of this journey:
My partner, who’s unflagging support and love sustains me.
My editors, Imke & Isabella, who have come along on this often rocky road, offering their invaluable insights.
My team of ARC troopers: Kate, Diana, M.E., Terry & Laura, Tera, Liz, Cecelia, and Melinda.
My friends and family, who show up and make me feel like I matter.
And you, reader, who have given the priceless gift of your time and energy to my stories.
An ocean of gratitude to you all.
Now stick around, because I’m just getting started.
Stay awesome,
Lauren
The world of Catalyst Moon
Author’s note: I realize there’s a lot to keep track of in this ‘verse, so here’s a rundown of the relevant info for this book. Please let me know if you find this helpful, or if there is anything else you’d like to see: lauren@laloga.com
* * *
Mages
Magic first manifested in Aredia about three centuries ago. Mages are often identified at a young age, taken from their families and placed in secure bastions, where sentinels guard them at all times. Mages use magic by manipulating particles: tiny pieces of matter that make up everything in the world.
Kalinda Halcyon: Nicknamed “Kali,” she is a mage from Starwatch Bastion, transferred to Whitewater Bastion following the death of her father, the sentinel Captain Jonas.
