Gen and Astar exchanged looks over his head. “Lena will pull through,” Gen said. “And the tentacle monsters are gone. Stella vanished them both with that last blast of magic.”
“The Star,” Jak said, suddenly panicked, trying to sit up. His muscles cramped painfully.
Astar restrained him without effort. “Stella has it.”
“She doesn’t.” Did she? He couldn’t quite remember what had happened. Everything was fuzzy. He was still forgetting something. “Rhyian.”
A low rumble sounded through Astar’s chest where he still braced Jak. Gen put the cup to Jak’s lips again. “No more answers until you drink more.”
He drank, feeling the warm liquid hit his stomach, then pressed his lips closed when she offered more. Her gaze went to Astar over Jak’s head.
“We haven’t found him,” Astar admitted. “We’ve looked, and we’ll keep looking. I found his scent trail, and it just… stops.”
“The rift.” Jak forced the words past his lips, feeling out of breath, as if he’d been running. Everything hurt. Not the lacerations he couldn’t see, but in his joints, his very bones.
“That’s what it looks like.”
“Have to… get out… of here…” Shit. He tried to struggle up again. “Horses?”
“Give it a rest,” Astar ordered, forcibly holding him down. “We found the horses. They’re safe in the stable. We’re not going anywhere tonight. Let us handle things. You’ve done enough.”
You’ve done enough. He’d taken them straight into a trap and nearly got them all killed. “I’m so sorry, Dad,” he nearly sobbed. He couldn’t catch his breath.
“He’s delirious.”
“His heart is seizing.” Gen cursed viciously, a filthy one Jak was surprised she knew.
He opened his mouth to tease her about it but had no breath to speak. The black rolled up and over him, taking him under. Drowning him in the airless depths.
His father would never let him live it down.
Gentle sun shone on the sparkling aqua sea so distinctive to Annfwn. A young woman strolled on the white sands, long dark hair glinting with a hint of red, her movements shy and quiet. She wore a simple, light gown, short enough to show off her tanned legs, which Stella found surprisingly sexy. The young woman’s body, too, looked so lovely—delicately curved, moving enticingly under the clinging material. The woman glanced back over her shoulder, and Stella realized she was seeing herself, as she’d been years ago.
Past Stella’s expression was somber, eyes stormy gray, brow smooth, but also shadowed. Her lips curved into something not a smile, but lessening the sense of a frown.
Did she really look that way to other people?
“Jak,” she said, reproach in her tone. “You have to stop following me.”
“I wanted to give you something.” Jak’s voice coming out of her own mouth startled her. This must be a dream. But from Jak’s perspective? He held out his hand, the Star shining on his palm. That’s right—he had to give it back to Stella. She had to save them all.
“Why do you have the Star?” Past Stella asked, frowning in truth. “Jak, what’s going on? I don’t understand.”
“My star, I need your help.”
“Jak, I don’t understand.”
“Help me. I can’t find my way.”
“Nilly, it’s all right. Go back to sleep.”
She blinked up into Astar’s beloved summer-blue eyes, his hand holding hers like being wrapped in comfort. You touch Astar all the time—why is he different? Maybe because we shared a womb? Touching his hand is like holding my own. So, a matter of familiarity and trust, perhaps. “Willy,” she said, a world of love in it.
He smiled and brushed her hair from her forehead. “Go back to sleep. You need the rest. And you’re safe now.”
The dream floated back through her mind. Why had she thought she was Jak, talking to herself? My star, I need your help. Jak. She bolted upright, startling Astar into almost falling backward. “Where’s Jak?”
“Don’t worry about Jak. You need to rest and recover.”
Astar was hiding his thoughts behind an opaque wall. “Is Jak all right?”
“He’s fine.”
He was lying.
“Take me to him. Right now.” She pushed to her feet, staggering with the weakness in her limbs as Astar tried to both support her and stop her from going anywhere.
“Nilly,” he said, a world of hopelessness in his voice.
“No.” She shook her head, denying the possibility. “Oh no. You’re wrong. Let me see him.”
“Let her see him, Astar.” Zeph came up and put her hand on shoulder. She looked pale and drawn. “You’d want the same.”
“But she can’t—” Astar stopped. Sighed. “Fine, but I’m carrying you. You’re weak still.” With that, he swept her into his arms like a bouquet of flowers. She looked around as he carried her out of the room and into a hallway. Zeph paced alongside, a line of worry between her brows.
“We’re at the Midway Inn?” Stella asked. She remembered arriving, the tentacle monsters attacking, trying to summon the magic to send them back, Jak fighting like a whirlwind of blades. Then nothing.
“Yes,” Astar replied tersely, passing a number of empty rooms, their doors standing open.
“We’re the only ones here,” Zeph added, sliding Astar a look, like she’d expected him to say as much.
Astar was tense, still burying his thoughts where he believed she couldn’t read them, but his anxiety and sorrow leaked through the cracks. He never had been any good at lying. Astar was simply too sincere to carry it off. Even when they were kids and getting into trouble, Astar would blurt out a confession at the least bit of pressure. It had been up to Stella to cover for them. Funny to think about that now.
Bypassing all the rooms, Astar carried her down to the first floor, then carried her into the inn’s gathering room, where most of the tables had been pushed to the sides, the chairs stacked.
Except for a table in front of the fire, where Jak was laid out, wearing the scarlet outfit he’d sported at the Feast of Moranu ball, his gleaming weapons arranged formally around him, his profile still as if carved from wax. His skin pale as death.
Lena, who’d been sitting beside him, leapt to her feet. Her mouth fell into an astonished O, her eyes red and swollen from weeping. Her shock burned fast into fury. “What is she doing here?” she demanded, putting herself between Stella and Jak, as if she might hide him behind her.
“She insisted,” Astar replied shortly.
“Concealing the truth won’t change it,” Zeph said, the gríobhth remorselessness in her voice, though her gaze resting on Jak was full of grief. “Nilly has a right to know.”
“Put me down,” Stella told Astar as he carried her to the makeshift bier. As he complied, slowly and bracing her in case her legs gave again, Stella felt for Jak’s presence inside the cold body. A flicker of life deep within. “He’s not dead.”
Lena made a sound of incoherent sorrow, pressing her knuckles to her mouth, and Astar tightened his arms around her. “I know it’s difficult to face,” he said, sounding unutterably weary. “We tried to save him, but he lost too much blood, got too cold. His heart stopped.”