Starlight Jewel: Gifts of the Auldtree, #1

By E.L. Lyons

The human city of Minalav is renowned for its lavish balls, where nobles bring wealth from distant lands to the Starlight Palace, to be romanced—and robbed—by the half-human hybrids who live below the city. The wealthy guests leave without their treasure, and with no memory of their evening—except the unforgettable feelings that bring them back, season after season. But the magic of Minalav is built on dark secrets and lies.

Axly, a hybrid assassin and seductress-thief, will do anything to protect her human half-brother. The path of blood and chaos she carves will tip the precious balance of Minalav, and the world around it.

 

493 pages, 173k words, 3rd person PoV, Past Tense, Multiple PoV, Medieval Alternate World Epic Fantasy, Female Main Character, Spiceless/Fade-to-Black

 

No AI was used in the writing of this book or the making of its cover.

 

Honest reviews of all sorts and kinds are appreciated. If you leave a critical review, I still appreciate the time you took to read however much of my book you did, and hope that your next read is more to your liking! 

 

Trigger Warnings:

 

This book contains some graphic violence and many elements that readers may find disturbing, including a bit of torture. There are no graphic descriptions of sex or sexual assault, but there are allusions to prostitution, a couple of steamy scenes, some sexually disturbing implications, classism, ableism, the death of a nameless dog, murder, cannibalism, matricide, and suicidal ideation. It has been described as having a "splash of grimdark." 

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.L. Lyons
• Release date: Sep 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798223444060

E.L. Lyons

Reader and writer of spiceless dark adult SFF, feeder of cats and raccoons

Book preview

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Copyright © 2022 by E.L. Lyons

Cover illustration by Samantha Slaughter

Cover design by Shane Phillips

Frontispiece illustration by Kieran Larwood

Map illustration by Shane Phillips

Interior Illustration by E.C. Greaves

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or people is coincidental.

No AI was used in the creation of any part of this book. This author is too stubborn to even use grammarly. She has tuned out the red squiggles from SpellCheck because half the words in her writings are made up anyway.

No portion of this book may be fed into any AI program. This author's janky writing style and generally disturbing imagination will give such programs indigestion and possibly ulcers. The author knows from experience that these conditions are very unpleasant; she drank a lot of coffee and took a lot of ibuprofen while writing this book.

The scanning, uploading, and/or distribution of this book without the author’s permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact E.L. Lyons via the contact page on Lyonspen.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

The author is actually pretty chill about giving away digital copies of the book to folks who can't afford it. Just message her.

For my Grandmary and Grandaddy, the grandest of grands, who taught me to eat with a napkin in my lap and to not stuff three chicken tenders in my mouth all at once. They reveled in all my themed tea parties and taught me to appreciate and identify all manner of birds—even the peacocks that took up residence uninvited at their house. They provided me with endless avenues of adventure, academic encouragement, and good humor. I’d have never been able to imagine up such a refined and troublesome cast of characters if not for their influence in my life.

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Contents

Epigraph

1.Miss Someone

2.Brother to Brother

3.Starlight

4.Garden

5.Fiery Godmother

6.The General's Gamble

7.Grave Tales

8.A Night to Remember

9.Bittersweet

10.Yours Forgotten

11.Fair Ladies

12.Rules

13.Riddled Roots

14.Omissions

15.Solid Ground

16.Castle

17.King's Clarity

18.Vial Wills

19.Fallen Star

20.Daughters of Scorn

21.To Tarley

22.Lines

Fullpage Image

23.Crown of Black

24.Poisoned Well

25.In or Out

26.Work and Rest

27.Quisling Dungeon

28.The Lamb's Ears

29.Loose Tongue

30.The Lead

31.Unrest

32.A New Dawn

33.Namesake

34.The Storm

35.Root and Rot

36.Fever

37.Ferry

38.Swille

39.An Old Compliment

40.Home

41.Happily Ever

42.First Impressions

43.The Fog

44.Rings True

45.Nothing to Me

46.First and Last

47.Vows

48.Austringer

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Epigraph

"Then I thought, ‘I shall die in my nest,

and I shall multiply my days as the phoenix.

My root is spread out to the waters,

and dew lies all night on my branch.

My glory is ever new with me,

and my bow is renewed in my hand.’"

~ Job 29:18-20

1

Miss Someone

Quickstep and softstep are the gifts of the flesh. Keenscent and keenears are the gifts of the base senses. Heartseer and nightseer are the gifts of true sight. Effacer is the gift of forgotten faces, that which can render even the most beloved a stranger, removing the mark of them from history itself.

Axly woke to the vast Gray Sea’s salty aroma yielding to Grakkenport’s morning happenings. Street vendors heated oil and made dough, families emptied chamber pots, and housemaids shook dust and dirt from doormats. A gentle melody formed from the squawking gulls, dreary chatter, and the babble of footfalls still heavy from the spell of sleep. The scents and sounds, a whisper to human ears, were like an orchestra at a banquet to hers.

The hammock she’d fashioned from a fishing net and hung between the alley’s barred windows left her sore, but it felt good to wake up with the sun’s light on her skin. The pastel sky above reminded her of the painted ceilings back home, in the Burrow under the city of Minalav. The fleas were less pleasant company.

A small finger poked her back and she turned over to look down at her human half-brother. He lay on a pile of straw beneath a blanket sewn from scraps of old clothes. The boy’s name was currently Hyde, and his relation to her was a secret she had guarded with her life—or rather with the lives of others. Such things seemed distant now as he smiled up at her from under a mop of brown curls.

Hyde sat up on his elbows, his feet wiggling under the blanket. Good morning, Miss Karlin.

Indeed it is a splendid morning, Mr. Hyde. She feigned an air of posh drama and the boy’s grin widened. To wake in this most lovely of port cities to the sight of such a dashing young man. Pray tell me of your dreams, that I may have something good to ponder whilst I work today.

I dreamt I was on a boat with a badger and a mole. We sailed forever and the sea was beautiful, and there were no storms, only the sun and the wind. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to go back to his fantastical adventure.

A boat? How dreadful. You won’t get me on a boat, Mr. Hyde. It’d be my death. She slung her legs over the side of the hammock and stood, grabbing the overskirt that served as her blanket. I can smell Unger cooking up those crispy eggs. We’re leaving town tonight, so it’s our last chance to savor them. Now hurry and get cleaned up.

He rolled off the hay and went around the corner of the alley to the drains used as a latrine by the homeless workers of Grakkenport. She tuned out the sounds of the ocean, allowing her keenears to seek out anything unusual in the network of alleys, but all seemed well.

She tied the cream-colored overskirt over the fitted, blue-striped trousers, the angle cutting up at her knees. Then she pulled on her worn cloth shoes. A typical servant’s outfit in Norge.

Checking her reflection in a window, she saw her mother’s face, beautiful, and unfortunately, far too memorable. The face had been a gift when she had worked as a Starling—beauty could only be an asset in thieving and assassinating. But for a runaway, it was a hindrance. If she’d had the gift of effacer, she’d be able to hide effortlessly, but that was the one gift her sprygan father hadn’t passed on.

She pulled on her cloth belt then dipped her fingers in the pouch of ashes that hung from it, placing a few haphazard streaks on her forehead and cheeks. Strands of black hair—a quality not common in Norge—had escaped her hair scarf in the night. She tucked them back under, though there was nothing she could do to hide her pale northern skin.

Of all her features, her amber eyes, inherited from her sprygan father, were the most conspicuous. Having both gifts of sight manifested in the coloring, and many in Norge were aware of such things. But as long as the sun didn’t catch them, they were easily mistaken for light brown. She kept the sun at her back and stayed indoors when possible, but it still wasn’t prudent to stay in any one place too long.

After work today she’d take Hyde to the Rusty Tankard Inn, gather their belongings, and head a little further east.

Hyde came back around the corner, grabbed his pouch of glass shards, and slipped it onto his rope belt. I bet my father came from across the ocean. That’s why I’ve got freckles—you said mother didn’t have any.

You still thinking about going on your dream boat? Axly wished he wouldn’t talk of things that contradicted the current identities, but no one was in earshot, and she didn’t have it in her to disappoint him with a lecture this morning. Freckles are common in a lot of northern countries, but more so in the northwest. You don’t have to cross the ocean to get to Midrax or upper Whillfell. He might have come over the mountains—whoever he was. Now let’s go.

She took Hyde’s hand, leading him toward the street vendors and the enticing scent of Unger’s breakfast, one of the few pleasures in her new life. The vendor offered them a bright smile as they approached. He had graying hair with dark Remorrian skin. Deep curved wrinkles lined his prominent brow and cheeks, cut at sharp angles by scars.

Remorrians were outsiders in the Norgan kingdom, but Unger did well in his trade. Even the fugitives who fled Remorra were hardworking and principled people. There was a small community of them here in Grakkenport and while whispers of her pursuers had no doubt reached them from other sources, she’d never known a Remorrian to gossip—fugitives weren’t inclined to out their own.

Unger dipped the first batch of battered eggs in the roiling oil, then pulled them up. Hyde licked his lips and she grinned, wanting to tousle his hair but resisting.

Hyde didn’t like being touched. He’d hold her hand as they walked, but anything more and he’d set to causing a scene wherever they were and no matter what trouble it might bring. She knew he couldn’t help it, but still resented that she couldn’t embrace him or kiss his forehead.

Her resentment wasn’t aimed at him, rather at those who had made him so fearful—those who had made him.

Stars bless your steps. Unger handed them the tiny woven baskets with their crispy eggs.

And yours, Unger, Axly replied with a nod as she handed him two copper coins.

Axly and Hyde headed down the street, giving a wide berth to the sluggish workers trudging about. The fried batter was crunchy and savory, the boiled white smooth and delicate, and the golden yolk just a bit runny. Prior to coming here she’d never encountered an egg prepared in such a way, and yet it was more decadent than anything she’d been served at the Starlight Palace.

A commotion drew her—too late—from her musings. A leather ball flew between her and Hyde, followed by a gaggle of children plowing into them. They jostled Hyde away, knocking him to the ground. The contact set off his loud, attention-drawing cries. She stepped back to give him space. His fit would be over as quickly as it started.

Except today, a kindly stranger decided to help. Before she could stop him, the middle-aged man stooped down and took the boy by the shoulders. Hyde’s loud cries rose to shrieks.

She gently pushed the man away and smiled, squinting into the sun. Sorry, but please don’t touch him. He’s okay, just gets upset.

He straightened his silken jacket, looking shocked and confused. He met her gaze, then near sprinted away—no longer eager to be her white knight. Perhaps her brother’s fits were stranger than she’d thought. An issue to think on another time. The streets were going to get more crowded and she didn’t want to be late for work.

She picked Hyde up and threw him over her shoulder. He bit and clawed her as she walked, but she was durable and he didn’t do much real damage.

Once at the Pierry house, she set him down against the wall in the alley across from the servant’s door. His panic was replaced with agonized frustration when released, and she could see the battle he fought to get control of himself again. Her presence would only make it more difficult, so she went inside.

She opened the window and hummed to calm him as she set about her work. The other maid had cooked pastries the night before—a good thing since I’m terrible at it. Soon, Hyde was quiet, the kitchen was clean, the fire was going, and Widow Pierry was waiting at the breakfast table with her two daughters.

They were all dressed up to leave for the Vernal Ball in Minalav—the most extravagant event of the year, attracting more foreign royalty than any event in the kingdoms, even the great Star Coronations of the Church in Van Couth.

Karlin! Widow Pierry jumped as Axly stepped up behind her and set the pastries down on the table. Rats, you’re a quiet one. Always sneaking up on me. We’ll be leaving for the ball by midday, I expect you to keep the house tidied while we’re gone. Did you get the cedar chips like I asked? And the fans?

Yes, ma’am. They’re packed. Though I’ll be leaving the city shortly after you. We’ve lingered too long already.

Widow Pierry returned her attention to her daughters. "I’ve had word that the main ball this year has been a success. It bodes well for us—there’ll be many who expected to get in the Starlight Palace but get sent out to the surrounding dancehalls instead. Likely those wise enough not to bring jewels for the Starlight Company to steal—and wise husbands are what we’re looking for—not men enticed by an expensive and fleeting tryst."

The mention of the Starlight Company made Axly’s skin tingle and her stomach twist. A year had passed since she’d left them to go into hiding with Hyde. She ached to see her hybrid brothers and sisters—even if the feeling wasn’t returned after her betrayal.

Dehl, the elder daughter, looked back to Axly with a smug grin. I bet Karlin would look lovely in a lady’s dress if she ever took a bath. How do you manage to get so much filth on you every day?

It’s the work, ma’am. And I thank you for the compliment. Even if it was backhanded.

Widow Pierry scoffed. Don’t get any ideas, girl. It takes more than a pretty face to win a man’s heart. You’re as witless as that boy you drag around. Men like charming, skilled women. You can’t cook or sew. Stars, you can’t even clean without fainting you’re so delicate. You’d never be able to sing or draw, much less manage a house and children. Any man with sense would run at the sight of you.

Axly suppressed a grin, having charmed more men in more balls and bedrooms than the Pierrys could dream of. But Widow Pierry was right about one thing—any man with sense would run at the sight of her.

She heard the other maid come in and start washing the dishes. She curtsied and left to clean the bedrooms, hoping to escape the worst of the noise. Even from a distant room, the metallic bang of pots and pans left her near deaf and wincing in pain. Keenears, like all the gifts from the sprygans, could be as harmful as helpful. And in her current line of work, it was rarely anything helpful.

Dehl opened the door and sauntered in, grabbed a pair of shoes and wrinkled her nose. Didn’t I ask you to clean these?

Yes, ma’am. And I did clean them. Some scents are harder than others to remove though.

"You’re saying my feet are dirtier than other women’s? You’re a slanderous rat. And lazy. I have to wear these today. Dehl threw one of the shoes and Axly ducked, the footwear flying over her head. Clean them." Her words were punctuated with the second shoe, which was avoided with a sidestep.

Sorry, ma’am. I’ll do my best. Axly picked up the shoes and took them downstairs. She set them out for the other maid, who wasn’t so badly affected by the odors of cleaning mixtures. It seemed a cruel trick of the Stars that Axly’s strongest gift was keenscent. For as useful as it could be, it was just as often torturous.

She hung her apron and went outside, glad for the fresh salty air to cleanse her nose. Hyde sat where she’d left him, but now had his glass shards laid in front of him. The sight of the glass always unsettled her, and she wondered what prompted him to bring it out in clear view of others.

Feeling better, Hyde? she asked cautiously.

He nodded, picking up his glass pieces and tucking them back in the pouch. Yes, Miss Someone.

The old name struck her heart like a hammer. It was a shift in the game of cat and mouse their life had become. She scanned the crowd and took a deep breath, catching the distinct woody scent of other hybrids. What happened?

The man who grabbed me this morning came back. He asked what your name was. I said, ‘Miss Karlin.’ He asked who you were to me. I said, ‘No one. She just throws me scraps from the window.’ I tried to come in and tell you when he left, but Widow Pierry said I couldn’t be in the house.

He said the words, no doubt thinking it meant they’d have to leave in a hurry. But it was already too late for new names and a quick escape to fix things. She might be able to outrun one or two hybrids, but she smelled four, including her old friend, Jory. He’d always been just a little faster than her.

There would be no getting away for Axly. Her best hope was that Hyde got to safety before they realized who he was—or how dangerous he might become in the wrong hands.

2

Brother to Brother

Go to the inn and wait with Darius, Axly whispered.

Hyde nodded sullenly and walked down the alley with his pouch of glass.

She strode in the other direction, trying to hear and smell the situation out as she headed toward the docks. The subtle amber auras of hybrids, visible only to the heartseers, stood out amidst the white auras of humans.

Axly spotted the first hybrid, his eyes to the sky as he inhaled deeply—a keenscent like her. His amber eyes met hers through the crowd a moment later, poised to give chase if she decided to run. She continued walking but changed direction as Jory’s familiar scent neared.

Perhaps the man who’d grabbed Hyde’s shoulders hadn’t mentioned him—though that was doubtful considering Hyde was what drew the man to her. But Hyde had responded just as she’d taught, so she hoped they wouldn’t suspect anything. Still, the longer she distracted them, the better Hyde’s chance of reaching the inn and being forgotten.

Axly wove through the crowd, then slipped into the alleys in the merchants’ quarter. She started jogging to lose the keenscent trailing her—a quickstep too. He might be able to keep up well enough, but her softstep gave her the advantage of stealth as she darted around corners and bends.

It felt strange to run again after settling into the mundane routines of menial labor. Running through the starlit streets and sewers of her beloved Minalav had once been a daily habit, but now she was breathless in just a few minutes.

The footfalls of her pursuers sounded from multiple directions to corral her—the smell of Jory, like holly and honey—was a familiar comfort in the chaos. She gripped the crevices and cracks in a wall to pull herself up to a shop roof. The smoke billowing from the chimney there might mask her scent for a short while. The idea of joining Hyde danced into her mind, then left as quickly. She wouldn’t risk it.

She leapt from rooftop to rooftop, the docks now in sight. She pushed herself a little more, if only to prove to herself that she could, before deciding she’d given a merry enough chase. She leapt to the ground where gasps of startled humans sounded around her, but her pliant bones and spongy joints made the impact silent and painless. She ran out to the docks, taking in the sight of the sea as she caught her breath.

If she jumped in, ending the game once and for all, no one would be able to use Hyde against her. No one had to know what was peculiar about him—though they’d find out eventually. He could be forgotten for a while and left to live his life among humans who hadn’t a care about Minalav, Norgans, Ashites, hybrids, and sprygans. All she had to do was let the salty sea leach away her life.

But Jory was like a brother to her. In her woody bones she knew that he loved her as surely now as he had when they were children. He’d risked his life to save her from more than one brash brush with death, and she wagered he still would. They’d live together or die together.

Axly gazed at the beckoning waves as her pursuers’ footsteps pounded across the planks. She pulled her eyes from the ocean, turning to see Jory and three others, two of them familiar. Jory’s blond hair had grown out a bit and the wind blew it around his olive-skinned face and sharp features. His green eyes looked older and more tired than they had a year before.

Jory stopped a few yards away. "We were on your trail this morning in Newbury when a human came to us. He’d seen us a few days ago and had some guesses about what we were out looking for. He swore on his mother’s life he saw an amber-eyed woman in Grakkenport so beautiful that she couldn’t be anyone but the Starlight Jewel. He stepped closer and forced a smile. Thought I was going to have to kill his mother."

She’d never actually been in Newbury; she’d just put sweaty rags on different wagons leaving Grakkenport. At least it had worked for a while. She envied Jory that he only had one gift of sight—that his eyes, which might have been blue otherwise, were a natural green with his nightseer. How much easier it would be to hide if she had eyes like his.

Here I am.

He nodded as if confirming the disappointment that she wasn’t grateful for his ‘rescue.’ Are you going to walk back, or should I truss you up?

I’ll walk. Not in the mood to run right now anyway. Out of shape it’d seem. She noted there were only men in his company. New team is all Hawks.

Figured if we didn’t bring you back, I could get out of palace thieving for good. Get into assassination full time. Not like there’s a Starling who could replace you anyway. No anger or resentment. Just acceptance of the situation.

Jory stepped up beside her and offered his arm. After a moment’s hesitation she took it, the easy and natural feeling of the action eliciting a pang of guilt. So much of her wanted to make her home with her human brother, but her kinship with Jory had deeper roots.

Memories flitted through her mind of all the time they’d spent together on the streets and in the sewers, looking for hidden doors and exploring passageways, learning to read together and learning to thieve together. Hyde had been a presence in her life the past seven years, but Jory had been with her as long as she could remember, since before either of them had even a name to call one another by. Her two brothers—one by blood, one by bond—and she’d failed them both.

They walked arm in arm as they’d done hundreds of times before. Axly resisted the feeling of being content, happy, even relieved. No more scrubbing floors or washing clothes. No more falling asleep cold and itchy. No more constant worrying about being found. No more shoes, bread, and spoons thrown at her—no more Karlin the maid.

Miss Someone was back, and she had to be no one again. At least for a time.

Jory helped her into a carriage and she sighed as her rear sank into the first soft cushion she had felt in a year.

Bentram, you ride ahead and let Tarley know we’re bringing her back, Jory told a lanky man with bronze skin and a gnarly scar on his neck. She vaguely remembered the incident, a robbery gone wrong; the tenant’s dog had woken and cornered the man before his team could kill it. And try to get him in a good mood. Tell him we’ll have her back for the last few days of the Vernal Ball. Don’t lie but... maybe don’t mention the unseemly details.

I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear she’s unscarred and in hand. I’ll leave it at that. Bentram loped toward the stables and Axly hoped he was right.

Jory and the stockier of the two men remaining got in, the carriage rocking under their weight.

The young man extended his hand. I’m Kyper, heard all about you, Axly. So glad you’re coming back!

His bright smile and amber eyes were filled with genuine enthusiasm. It caught her off guard. Even though he was a keenscent, quickstep, nightseer, and heartseer, she didn’t even have a vague memory of this Hawk. Stranger still, he seemed so very... honest. Optimistic. Excited. Naïve.

She wasn’t exactly sure how to react for a few moments, then said, Raised by humans.

His smile faded. When he started to withdraw, she grabbed his wrist. She looked at his hand with curiosity. She ran her fingers over the callouses and scars, reading from them a story different from any hybrid she’d met. A life of hard labor in the sun. Of good eating and good sleep.

Farmers, she said, relinquishing his hand and looking back to the story on his face. Sounding as giddy as you did, you can’t have been with the Starlight Company long. They die? Your humans?

He shook his head.

A foolish answer.

Just say they’re dead next time, Jory muttered irritably.

The young man nodded, still not having a clue as to why he should lie. He would find out.

Axly had never met another hybrid with a human mother. Few human women gave themselves over to the consequences of mating with a sprygan. Human men weren’t harmed by the unnatural coupling, but human women were effaced of their own identity, rendering them catatonic.

The young man’s face told of that too—that he knew what sacrifice his mother had made, that there was a weight of responsibility and guilt on him.

The only way to keep a hybrid child among humans was to ensure that it wasn’t born under the lawful eye of the Auldtree, who would dutifully deliver hybrids born in his forest to the Starlight Company in Minalav. Axly’s mother had been an Ashite zealot, eager to attain a hybrid of good stock for her people, no matter the cost.

However, one of the less zealous Ashites had other plans. She’d stolen Axly from the Ashites and snuck her in with the other hybrid babes through tunnels in Minalav’s walls. The Starlight Company had been none the wiser about Axly’s parentage, and she wasn’t keen to tell them when she found out herself.

But here was one like her—born to a human mother as she was, yet raised among their mothers’ kind. She didn’t know any hybrids lived outside the Company. The notion intrigued her.

Jory brought his attention back to Axly. You going to explain yourself at all, Ax?

She pursed her lips and looked out the window, her excitement about her new companion dampened. No.

Jory sighed and looked to Kyper. How bad’s her aura?

Pretty much clean. Two flecks. Better than yours by a mile—or any other I’ve seen on a grown person for that matter.

The man was right. Jory had gotten himself some fresh stains about his chest and wrists. Probably did some drinking and roughing about without me there to look after.

Jory furrowed his brow and rubbed his forehead. How do you kill three of your own, your closest friends, and not taint your aura?

You and Cami are my closest friends, Jory. I’m glad you weren’t with me. The memory and feelings incited by it threatened to consume her.

Jory shook his head, and both turned their attention outside the carriage.

I had to. They’d seen her brother. Now Hyde, then Jack. The Ashites had tended to him, at least by keeping him fed. He’d broken the rules. He was just six years old then and thought her rules were part of some game—she couldn’t blame him. She should have taken him from the city sooner, but she’d been so young herself. There had been so much she wanted to do...

It wouldn’t happen again, at least not like that. Hyde understood now that the stakes of the game were high. They were life and death, for them and everyone around them.

He and she were pieces on the board, created by the last remnants of the Ashites who hoped to retake the city of Minalav from the Norgan usurpers. But the Norgans were no more their allies than the Ashites, nor were the hybrids of the Starlight Company their friends. Each faction would be happy to use them, but none had their welfare in mind.

The memory of Ramus surfaced, and she wished effacer worked on hybrids. If she could forget he ever existed, then it wouldn’t matter much that he was gone. But his memory was safe, free to torment her as it pleased. She let the velvety comfort and rocking of the carriage envelop her and take her to sleep, where she hoped his face wouldn’t follow.

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They rode day and night for three days, in near silence, only stopping for fresh horses and supplies. The road, a narrow corridor of neutral Treaty space, took them through scattered sprygan forests and Norgan towns. To their south, the hills turned to mountains that separated the civilized part of Norge from the larger sprygan territory. The Gray Sea remained constant over the cliffs to their north.

Jory was clearly angry with her, and she was glad for it. She didn’t want to answer questions and she wasn’t keen on being forgiven. At least not by him. Tarley on the other hand... His disapproval might be too much to bear. He’d built her up over the years, carefully cultivating her into the paragon Starling she’d become. Finally, and only when she was ready, he’d shared the burden of leadership, appointing her to be the Starlight Jewel. Then she’d abandoned him, and everyone else.

Near midday they stopped at a tavern a few miles outside Minalav.

Jory helped her out of the carriage. Don’t cause any trouble. It’ll be trouble enough getting you presentable for Tarley. You reek like a beggar.

You think I don’t know it? she grumbled. I’ll be as compliant as a lamb.

He gave a skeptical look and led her inside, where he dropped a few silver coins on the bar in front of a burly woman.

I need two women to clean this one up as well as they can—soap, brushes, and blades. Fresh horses for the carriage.

That we can do. I’m Rena. The woman turned and yelled, Greta!

Axly winced, her ears ringing. Sudden loud noise amidst silence was painful to her keenears. If the sound was constant and loud, the ears could adjust, balance the noises into something like a melody.

A woman came out and the two led her back to a room with a wooden tub. Rena attempted to close the door behind them, but Jory stopped it with his boot. Stays open. Kyper, Marden—make sure no one walks by.

Rena put a hand on her hip and scowled. Don’t care who you claim she is to you, you’re not staying while—

This is Tarley business. She’d like as not kill you and give us the slip if I leave her unattended. Just clean her up and stay quiet, Jory said sharply.

Rena let the door go, not saying another word. Axly’s keenears picked up the woman’s quickening heart and there was a change in the smell of her perspiration. It had been a long while since Axly had felt like a predator—all this time in hiding, being good and quiet for Hyde’s sake. She tried to quell the rush she got from the woman’s fear.

Rena stripped Axly down while Greta filled the wooden tub. They scrubbed her with a wet rag to remove most of the dirt before helping her in the tub and pouring water over her head.

Jory leaned against the wall, fixing his gaze just above her. There wasn’t room for modesty on High Bird teams, and Hawks were coached to be respectfully indifferent to their Starling associates. Jory’s array of gifts, all but heartseer, made him the best suited to be the Starlight Jewel’s guardian during jobs, listening and getting her out of trouble if she found it. Even if she could distract him in such a state, she wanted to get distance between them and Hyde before attempting anything.

Did I miss anything important? Axly asked as they scrubbed her hair and nails.

Not really. Unless you want to count the funerals of our teammates as important. But I suppose you’d already said your goodbyes.

The image of Ramus returned—his look of confusion when she pulled her lips from his and the knife from his chest. My aura is fine, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad. I loved them.

Maybe I could believe that if you told me why you did it. He met her gaze for a moment, searching, then looked back at the wall. How’d you kill Ramus, anyway? He was faster and stronger than you.

Axly closed her eyes, gritting her teeth and willing the tears to wither. He just didn’t expect it, she murmured when she had her voice back. She lifted her leg out of the tub so Greta could take a blade to the hair. The sharp edge of the blade sounded crisp as it slid over her skin, a good enough blade for its job.

Jory cracked his knuckles. So you were just walking—then abruptly decided to kill them in the middle of the street and leave?

What do you want me to say, Jory? Is there some acceptable excuse for killing people you love? If you’re trying to figure out if you can trust me again, the answer is no. You shouldn’t have trusted me to begin with. Tarley’s either going to kill me or have me under guard and I accept that. There’s no option that ends with things going back to how they were. I don’t want your trust. I don’t want your understanding. I don’t want to discuss it, and I don’t want to remember.

They were silent until the women finished and toweled her dry. Kyper handed Jory a leather dress case, chancing a glance at Axly as he went back to his post.

Eyes to yourself, Kyper. She’s not a sideshow. Jory opened the case, handing undergarments and a dress to the women.

To Axly’s nightseer eyes it looked gray in the candlelight, but she was sure it was a dark red, since that was the most oft-chosen color for her. It was a floor-length silk dress with petal sleeves and a squared neckline, cut just low enough to show a hint of cleavage. They put her hair in a simple bun and slipped her feet into black silk shoes with a slight heel. Jory offered his arm again and led her back to the carriage.

The city of Minalav rested atop bluffs overlooking the bay. She watched the gates pass by, the carriage clattering over the cobblestone, and breathed the scent of her home. There was no place in the world she loved more than Minalav, no place that made her feel as safe, yet she’d hoped to never see it again.

She thought about Hyde waiting for her at the inn, looking at her through his glass shards and realizing she wasn’t going to be coming to fetch him any time soon. One of the tears she’d fought for the last few days escaped her.

There was no use thinking about any of it—she wasn’t going to let her time here be wasted. She’d hurt her people enough by killing her friends and leaving. If she was going to be stuck here, she may as well be useful, and she couldn’t charm anyone if she let herself wallow in her regrets.

I missed it here, she admitted, mostly to herself.

Jory grinned. As opposed to being in a city that smelled of fish and vendors and shit? I should hope so.

The streets around them were packed with noble visitors from Whillfell, Doshan, Remorra, and Ordem—all eager for the ball in the Starlight Palace or the dancehalls around it. A festive atmosphere was cultivated by the vendors selling trinkets and the streamers on every post and sign.

She felt eyes on her and looked over to see Kyper with a fretful expression.

What’s wrong? she asked.

Well... I suppose I didn’t think this far ahead. I mean... we found you. We brought you back. But what’s going to happen to you now? I mean, will you have a trial?

She huffed, thinking it odd he’d be so worried about someone he didn’t know. "Certainly not. This is the Starlight Company, not some human society. There is the Austringer’s word and there is the natural law. I shall be presented and a decision shall be made. At most, there will be a few public questions by Tarley. It’s his right to ask. It is not my obligation to answer. He shall decide my fate in the official capacity, as to what he thinks is best for the Company. But if the Company birds take issue with his decision, they are all free to take it up with me in the natural sense—if they dare."

Jory shot her a glare. Baj will dare. If Tarley lets you live, you need to watch your back.

Axly’s heart sank at the thought of Baj. And of her lover Daleth, dead at Axly’s hands. Watching my back won’t do me any good against Baj. If she has a mind to kill me outright, she will. I suspect though... I suspect she would rather me suffer. What manner of suffering she wants for me is another matter.

So there’s no law against murder? Kyper asked.

Murder is a very... human concept. It’s quite foreign to sprygan nature. To hybrid nature. Tell me, you know that I’ve killed three of my fellow High Birds, are you inclined to kill me for it?

Kyper paused, wrung his hands, then shook his head. No. I didn’t know the people you killed. And your aura suggests that you’re... innocent.

I’m not. I’m guilty. I killed them. My aura suggests that I didn’t kill them for selfish or malicious reasons. But it’s not your place to kill me for something that isn’t your business. Nor is it Jory’s place to kill me for something that isn’t his. It’s the place of a lover or a very close friend to carry out the natural law. Baj is the only one who might have such a compulsion—though my lack of stains will curb that instinct in her. To an extent. Our society is founded on balance, on action and consequence.

What about that ‘code’ that Jory is always on about? I thought breaking the code was serious. Isn’t that a sort of law? How is it enforced if not through trials with evidence and witnesses?

Jory looked up drearily and shook his head. The code is a Starlight Company code. A business code. It keeps the balance with humans and sprygans and must be respected. If it isn’t respected, it’s the Austringer’s responsibility to address it. Our survival depends on thieving and assassinating without upsetting the society we’re doing it in. He gestured to Axly. Her crime isn’t murder, it’s theft. In killing three High Birds, she stole valuable resources from the Company. The question is not whether she broke the code, but rather whether she broke it for malicious reasons, which her aura would suggest she didn’t. Tarley’s decision will be based on what’s best for the Company from here on out.

Well what about moral wrongs? Between one hybrid and another?

She thought for a moment, realizing that Kyper’s values might be shaped by living with humans. A word of advice, to keep you out of trouble—don’t expect a rational conversation or a trial when you make a mistake. Violence is natural and it’s on you to have the integrity and intelligence not to cause it. Moral wrongs between hybrids fall under the natural law.

Good to know... I guess. Sounds more like chaos than balance. Sometimes there’s a good reason to do a bad thing, a person ought to be heard out.

Axly shook her head. "Does a bear explain to the salmon why it must be eaten? Does the young wolf explain to the old why he must be overthrown? Everyone knows their place. You learn it or you die. Sometimes you learn it and you die."

She looked to Jory with a sympathetic smile. Since she’d killed Ramus, he’d be the most likely Hawk to be able to kill Tarley and take the seat of Austringer. He didn’t look ready yet, though spending time away from the Burrow in the sun had strengthened him some.

Jory put a hand on Kyper’s shoulder. You’re a decent Hawk, Kyper. Don’t sleep with another man’s woman, don’t steal things that aren’t yours, and don’t conspire with humans. If you manage those things, there’s no need to worry.

The words didn’t seem to comfort Kyper, but Axly decided to worry over her own fate.

The carriage rumbled to a halt and Jory unrolled a leather sleeve lined with brushes and tins. He leaned close to apply her makeup, working diligently to ensure she was as polished as a jewel set in silver when he presented her to Tarley. He hadn’t waivered in his role as her diligent protector, but it had probably been a relief for him to get a break from the work, a break from her. It was a special kind of torture that he had to listen to her in the beds of other men when he wanted her in his.

He helped her out and onto the great stone steps of the Church of the Lost Star.

It was like a dream, being in Minalav again, in a lady’s dress and among her own people. And they were her people—at least when she was no one. The Starlight Jewel didn’t have the luxury of wants and attachments of her own.

They made their way alongside the pews, half filled with hybrid children. Each reminded her of Hyde, though their futures were certain, and his was anything but. They were dressed in little more than rags—some more covered than others to hide bark-like skin. Even if she couldn’t help Hyde yet, she hoped Tarley would at least let her go back to work so she could make the lives of these children more comfortable.

The priest, who’d been giving a sermon on lock wards and picks, went silent and the children stared up at her in awe—or perhaps fear. She wasn’t sure there was a difference.

At the back of the church, a red star painted on the stone wall indicated a Starlight Door. Jory pricked his finger with a dagger and touched it to the star. The wall parted to reveal a spiral stone staircase to the Burrow.

The familiar smells of sap, books, and poisons met her nose, aromas that defined her nature, education, and profession. The trickling of water through the pipes and murmur of voices in the banquet hall were the melody of her childhood welcoming her home. The Ashites had carved stone tunnels out from the natural caverns that waters had shaped long before. Intricate statues were carved into the walls at intervals—prominent hybrids of previous generations, sprygans of note, and even some few humans.

Boisterous chatter and hearty aromas reached her as they neared the banquet hall. It was dinnertime in the Burrow, and it seemed she wouldn’t escape a public return. She put all thoughts of Hyde from her mind. It was time to get back into her old role, to be the paragon Starling of Minalav’s underworld.

Tarley the Austringer sat atop his wrought iron throne on the dais, wearing an expression of boredom and irritation as Vallory read him reports from the ball. His long dark hair spilled about the bronze skin of his chest, adorned with tattoos of a starling and a hawk. In his brown leather pants, his black sword belt, and rugged-looking boots, he was exactly as rough and regal as Axly remembered him.

The growing quiet in the hall drew his attention to her. Their eyes met and for a moment, she was that same ten-year-old girl again, wanting nothing more than his approval and affection. He’d given her opportunities to rise in the ranks from Low Bird to High Bird, then to Starlight Jewel. He’d celebrated her victories and given her counsel and the respect of her position even when she’d been too young to suit its prestige.

She walked across the banquet hall toward him and he stood when she neared, looking her over with appreciation and shaking his head.

You kill your friends and abandon your people, yet come back with as clean a heart as when you left. You leave luxury to work with your hands, living on the streets, yet come back even more beautiful. Who else but my Axly could confound the laws of nature so surely? His gruff voice held notes of amusement, reverence, and possessive affection. She smiled as he took her jaw in his hand, turning her face to inspect it—the way a sprygan father might. He let his hand fall to hers, taking it and kissing her knuckles but not releasing it. Where are all your rings and blades?

Sold them.

His grip went from firm to painful. "Those were Company rings. Company blades. Just like those were Company birds you killed. Just like you are a Company bird. All stolen. We steal for our people, not from them. She heard only confusion in his tone, no anger, though she could feel it plainly enough as one of the bones in her hand snapped. Do you have nothing to say? Will you not explain? Apologize? Beg for my forgiveness?"

I missed you, Tarley. Her voice was thick with genuine affection as she smirked over clenched teeth. And she did—miss him. Without his shelter and authority, she’d been vulnerable and aimless. Whatever his faults, he had never failed to make her feel safe and worthy.

Amusement returned to his face as he released her now-broken hand. I’ll accept that. I wouldn’t have believed anything else you said anyway. I don’t even believe you sold the rings. You’re callous, not careless. Jory would have tracked them back to you. But it would be far too painful to doubt that you missed me. Jory, get her three new rings. Jory nodded and headed off to the vault. Can’t have the Starlight Jewel seen with bare fingers. And how can anyone truly convict you of a crime when you haven’t a single new stain on your aura? Still, I think I’ll keep you close from here on out—to avoid further disruptions to the balance.

Tarley took his dress shirt from the table by his throne, slipped it on, pulled his jacket over his shoulders and tied his hair back. "You’re late for the ball, Lady Ethridge, which is a tragedy given how breathtaking you look tonight. And it just so happens I have a mark you’ll adore."

She resisted the temptation to cradle her broken hand. Not going to give me any time to study? she asked as he stepped off the dais.

Jory returned with the rings and slipped them on her fingers. Small, elegant things. Amber, garnet, and diamond, indicators of her gifts of flesh, senses, and sight. The jewels would also help amplify the range of the effacement—not that it was needed. Everyone would be effaced before they could get too far. But it made the use of effacer easier for those like Tarley and Camille who had it.

Tarley offered her his arm and led her forward. There’s not much to study. We don’t know much. General Arthur Grimwalt, all the way from Tarth. He’s here to buy sprygan weapons. He’s been asking discreetly. Brought three coffers of jewels to his rooms to trade, also brought his own guards, cook and maid. He’s not danced with any lady who’s approached him, says he’s ‘here on business,’ just meeting with nobles to ask after information. Probably has more to offer on his boat, but that’s not our concern. Maybe we can entice them back if we show how reasonable we are.

Tarth was a long way off. The other side of the world from Norge—or at least the other side of the Gray Sea. A cold and war-torn place not known for luxuries or niceties. Norgan correspondence with the kingdom had been limited to Treaty business and there was little understanding between them, being as different as sheep and fish. She’d only met one Tarthian worth stealing from—a duke who’d come through Minalav a few years before.

At the entrance, she looked back at her new team with apprehension: Jory, Bentram, Kyper, and Marden. You expect me to manage with just Hawks?

Camille is there with her team, failing at the job for the second night in a row. The general hasn’t so much as introduced himself to her. Use her as you please.

Axly sighed and thought about it a moment, hating to go into a job unprepared. Usually she had days to spy and study and plan before actually approaching a mark. I did like the last mark from Tarth. That duke was... sturdy.

Tarley flashed a wicked grin. The general is sturdier.

3

Starlight

The carriage clattered over the cobblestone streets where Axly had begged and thieved and killed, to the grand Starlight Palace that had been the center of her world and her work. It was flanked with white limestone wings, accented with ornate reliefs of vines and trees. The walls were adorned with the cornflower blue banners of Norge, bearing a branch crossing a scepter, tied with a yellow ribbon.

Axly and Tarley ascended the white marble steps, veined with cream and rose, that cascaded at a gentle angle to the street. They passed the doorman, Percy, who gave them a respectful nod. He was the only quarterbreed she knew of, his only gift keenscent. Quarterbreeds were considered a burden to the Company for their lack of gifts but were usually not human enough to live topside without being liabilities. Both Percy’s parents had been killed for the crime of making him. To conspire with a human—emotionally or otherwise—in a way that put the Company at risk was a serious offense.

The opulent glass-domed ballroom had once served as an observatory for the Ashites, allowing them to study the stars. Norgans had no desire to make a study of things beyond the reach of men, but it seemed a place of reverence to them, where they could see and be seen by their celestial deities.

They walked to the railing and looked out over the dance floor. Strings of diamonds hung from the ceiling, catching the light from stars and torches on their facets. Intricate jewelry was draped about ladies’ necks and spritely music moved the feet of the dancers. Gowns of rich plum, forest green, and deep blue were the season’s favorites—along with the