The Stars are Dying : (Nytefall: Book 1)

“Astraea.”

The world felt distant, but the hiss of my real name was enough to snap me back. I glanced around frantically, thinking it was bold of Zathrian to even whisper. I landed my wide gaze on him, but he only returned a disapproving frown.

“Did you hear a word of what I just said?” With his reprimand, he jerked his chin at the sword I clutched tightly.

I tried to lift it. Maybe my reaction was overdramatic, but I was ready to give up on wielding the weapon that felt too heavy and long.

Zath sighed like I was a lost cause. “Let’s try the bow.”

My buildup of anticipation had been for nothing when it turned out Zath was the one who’d urged me to the training room that morning, far earlier than any of the others were expected to show up. From what he’d found out through the other mentors, this wasn’t really to train our skills. What use would one more week be? No—like the feast, this was likely a new chance for us to gauge each other. Find strengths and weaknesses. I hadn’t been able to focus much, thinking of everything that made me an ample target.

“She’s the weakest one here.” A feminine voice echoed through the training room.

The hall was spectacular, with a high perimeter for viewing and several stations equipped for different combat teachings. We stood on a circular platform with steps to get up to it, but there was no safety barricade should an opponent be forced out of the ring.

I spied the head of light pink hair as Rosalind entered the room. “Thanks for the encouragement,” I grumbled. I watched as she went over to the wall lined with swords of all sizes, admiring how she assessed a couple, weighing their balance between her hands. Seeming satisfied with her choices, she twisted to head straight for us, and my spine stiffened. I trailed my eyes along the length of the two swords she held in one hand, a little shorter than what I clutched.

Stepping onto our platform, she approached, and Zath took an instinctive step in front of me. Rosalind didn’t spare him a glance, but I figured the sly smirk at the edge of her lips was for him.

I turned rigid when her hand reached out. Mine went slack around the blade she took from me.

“Men rarely get the weight and size of a sword correct for a woman.” Rose thrust the hilt of my former sword at Zathrian, hitting his chest, and in his surprise he gripped it, his hand around hers, with a low grunt.

My brow curved as I looked between them, shifting on my feet with the challenge that rose in the seconds-long stare they shared. I dragged the tip of my new sword against the ground as a distraction, and the sultry way Rosalind slipped her gaze from Zath revealed it was more an effort to rile him than any genuine attempt at seduction.

Zathrian looked to me when Rosalind turned, and as if he’d broken from a trance, his scowl showed her success.

I merely shrugged. “It does feel better,” I admitted, trying out a few of the steps and swings Zathrian had tried to teach me.

“And he doesn’t know what moves are best for you.” Rosalind crossed her arms, tossing him another look, and whatever was written in it this time turned him even more sour.

I pinched my lips to keep from smiling. Which was easy when any dose of humor or happiness was quickly gripped by guilt.

Rosalind clipped the blade I was using to prop myself up, and I stumbled before catching myself as the clang finished resonating.

“What are you doing?” I snapped, my irritation highly flammable at the goading I’d rather watch her inflict on Zathrian. But now it was his turn to yield a small side-smile, and I had to refrain from doing something very childish.

“Wouldn’t you like to learn from someone who could actually advance your skills?”

Zathrian scoffed, and Rosalind’s brow lifted to me, wondering if I would defend my friend. In truth, I couldn’t deny his teaching was awful.

“Seriously?” he all but whined at my silence.

Rosalind smiled triumphantly, and Zathrian’s blue eyes pinned her with annoyance.

“Rosalind Kalisahn.” He drawled her name.

She cast him a bored look but lay a hint of a warning on him. “So you know my name. Everyone in the realm will by now. Keep yours—I have no need for it.”

I had never seen this side to Zathrian, and I wanted to shrink away from the growing tension in the room. His smile was all predatory. His eyes flexed, flicking to me only for a split second as if my presence affected the far cruder response waiting on the tip of his tongue.

“We’ll see, Thorns.”

“What did you call me?”

Zathrian’s eyes lit up like he’d found a trigger. “The beauty of a rose, but prickly like its thorns. I think it’s fitting.”

“The only prick around here—”

“So, uh, how can you be certain I’ll need a sword?” I said, feeling awkward for sliding in but thinking the two might detonate with any more testing.

“I actually hope for your sake that you don’t,” Rosalind said with a hard edge as she tore her gaze from Zathrian. “Does he need to be here?”

“Kind of.” I shrugged then thought back to what I’d noticed. “Did you come here alone?”

“Yes.”

“No mentor?”

Rose shifted her stance and angled her blade. “No.”

She didn’t want to talk about it, but I had so many questions.

“Why are you helping me?”

Rosalind huffed a laugh, her smile feline before she said, “I’m not.”

She attacked without warning, and I cried out, raising the blade out of nothing more than instinct. The harsh clank that vibrated my arms had me releasing my grip on it. I gasped when cool metal touched my chin as my sword clattered to the ground.

I wasn’t the only one under threat, but Rosalind didn’t seem at all fazed by Zathrian’s blade resting against her neck.

“I should have guessed cheap take-outs would be your style,” Zath snarled.

I could have sworn the hazel of Rose’s eyes flashed a shade lighter as she lowered her blade and turned toward Zathrian’s. The angry glare shivered over me, but I was merely a spectator to it.

“And what about me gave you that impression?”

Zathrian’s face tightened, in a position to swiftly end her life. “You seem like you’d do anything to win.”

“You are not one of the Selected, so remove that blade before I do.”

“I don’t think this is going to help either of us,” I grumbled, gesturing between them.

With gritted teeth Zathrian shifted the blade away, maintaining their stare down before backing up a long stride. He seemed to be debating whether or not to stay down here with us, until a low whistle drew our attention to the entrance.

“Sleeping with the competition won’t win you points, little Rose,” Draven said.

Just like that, I understood Rosalind’s emotions before were only playful compared to the cold anger that firmed her features in an instant.

While the mysterious one, Arwan, smirked at the comment, he didn’t look to us as he stemmed off from Draven and Enver. They strolled up to our training platform, eyes feasting on us as if we were their next meal. I spotted three other mentors on the viewing platform above us, and I wanted to flee from the sudden attention from all angles.

Zathrian fixed his defensive demeanor for Rosalind rather than against her this time.

“I think you missed the turn into the parlor,” Rosalind said to them, crossing her arms.

Draven grinned with sly amusement, taking a huge bite out of an apple. “Speak for yourself. Wouldn’t want to damage that pretty face in a place like this.”

“Grab a sword and join me.” She brushed him off, backing up a few paces and preparing to take her stance. “Then if you want a second eye patch, try saying that again.”

I wondered if his huge build was from his previous occupation. Once, I’d overheard Hektor talk of late tradings with the Kingdom of Fesaris for coal. Perhaps he’d worked in the mines, and the loss of his sight in one eye was down to some terrible accident.

I still had so much to learn about the other kingdoms. Only from my brief study of the map I’d found in the book did I know Enver’s home kingdom of Astrinus was the highest in the North with the most mountains. And Arwan came from the west, Arania, separated by rivers from the neighboring kingdoms.

Draven’s one dark brown eye slipped to me, and I stiffened. The gleam he wore sized me up as feeble prey. “I’d rather test how far this one can bend before she breaks.”

Enver snickered. “I reckon we’ll be one Selected down before the first week is up.”

I didn’t know why I wanted Rosalind’s reaction as I flashed her a glance. Her look was knowing, as though she agreed with them on their observations, but with sympathy. My cheeks warmed with frustration. I couldn’t even pull off the guise.

“Swordplay isn’t my thing,” I said.

“Oh, come on. Play with us,” Draven sang, sharing in some laughter with Enver.

I didn’t react to it. If there was one thing I was brave against, it was mockery.

“Thank you for trying,” I mumbled when I was close enough to Rosalind.

She caught my arm, staring me down intently before her gaze flicked across the room. “You’ll be their prime target out there if you walk away and give them nothing.”

I looked to where she indicated. There were two options: a range for archery I was confident I could complete to a more than average degree, and another range beside it with targets of all sizes spaced at various distances around three walls like an open box. My attention lingered on the latter, but before I could decide, Nyte’s silvery voice echoed in my mind.

“You could take ten throws and prove yourself as competent as them. Or you could take one and silence them from thinking you’re anything less than perfect.”

One shot.

I slid my eyes to Draven, who tossed his apple in the air. “Are you going to give us a show?” he taunted, noticing I’d slipped one of the throwing daggers from my belt.

“If you want a show, I’ll need a participant,” I said, steadying my breaths.

Tracking my target.

Draven smirked, bringing his apple to his mouth, and the moment his teeth pierced the flesh…so did the small blade, between his fingers.

The hall fell still. So deadly still.

I wondered if I’d stepped out of line when every set of eyes slowly found me, still poised as the culprit who had sent that knife flying. A fraction off and I could have killed him, and we hadn’t heard the rules to know if that was prohibited yet.

Draven’s eyes turned furious as he lowered the apple. He plucked the blade that looked like a mere toothpick in his giant hand, dropping the fruit. “A lucky shot,” he seethed.

“It’s too bad her accuracy is impeccable,” Rosalind said, and though she didn’t seem one to give praise often, I felt her subtle nod as such.

I reached for another blade as Draven tossed the first aside and stepped forward. Enver seemed to react to his every move, copying him as Draven drew his blade too.

“Your throw was cute,” he said, stepping up into the training ring. “Let’s see how you hold up in real combat.”

Zathrian and Rosalind stepped in front me, and though I knew I wouldn’t match up to them, I tried to angle my blade to give even the smallest impression I knew how to wield it. Draven lunged for Rosalind, who crossed her sword with his twin daggers, and they entered into an exhilarating dance. I stumbled back another step when more clanging sounded and Zathrian became engaged in a fight with Enver.

I felt utterly useless and feeble, cowering back even though it wasn’t my fight. I wished I could move the way Rosalind did. As elegant as the wind, but as lethal as the blade that answered her.

They parried back and back, and I thought to leap out of the way, but Enver had also been forced on the defensive after switching sides, so I had no escape. I didn’t realize how far they’d pushed back until my heels slipped off the platform. I shrieked, but my flailing arms could do nothing to help as I toppled from the height.

I hardly had a second to brace before I slammed to the hard ground. Heat spread across my head at the impact, a tingling sensation dizzying me when I rolled to prop myself up. My temples pulsed and warmed, and I wondered if I was bleeding, but I didn’t check as I pushed myself to my feet and took a hard blink to refocus the room.

Don’t appear weak.

Every choice and movement I made to those who surrounded me now was bait for them to use later.

“Cassia, are you hurt?” Zathrian asked.

I shook my head. It was a mistake. The room tilted, and I had to shift my footing to seem casual as I rebalanced myself. “I think I’ve made my point here though,” I said, daring a look at Draven.

I took a step to leave, and Zath shifted too.

“I’m just heading back to my room. You can stay.” I hoped he’d read my tone and Rosalind wouldn’t. I didn’t doubt she could handle herself, but I didn’t really know her, and while she was the competition it didn’t feel right to leave her alone with these brutes.

Zath’s jaw firmed. He didn’t give Rosalind a direct look, but it confirmed he thought the same. “I’ll see you later?” he asked, even if he seemed reluctant to stay.

I gave him a grateful smile with my nod and left the training hall, sparing one look across that felt like a compulsion. Arwan was already watching me, the unnerving touch of his brown irises still crawling over my skin when I was many halls away.

I hissed, reaching a hand around my head. The wetness on my skin confirmed the fall had been as bad as it had felt. Though I was certain I would be fine without stitches.

Before I turned into the next hall, a tall hooded figure caught my attention. I wouldn’t have given them a second thought were it not for the high braid of honey hair they also guided stiffly along.

My heart stopped with my steps.

I shouldn’t follow. I shouldn’t follow.

I cursed the second voice in my head that commanded movement, the one I’d had to silence painfully on the rooftop with Cassia the first time we’d seen a fae being herded against her will. My adrenaline raced and my thoughts taunted I was mistaken, but I had to be certain.

I hid behind corners, always a corridor away every time the duo dipped out of sight. We headed down then through some less lavish spaces I thought to be the servants’ quarters. When they went outdoors, I cursed my lack of a winter cloak.

My muscles tensed at the freezing night, immediately screaming at me to retreat. Dipping behind a tree, I didn’t think I could follow them any further without being seen by the guards as they glided by without question.

The female fae didn’t fight, but I ached for her stiff walk of reluctant obedience, feeling for her with a strong urge to help. My fingers bit into the bark of the tree trunk I cowered behind.

As they headed toward the dominating black building, my intrigue sparked anew at what could be within. As they started to disappear across the distance, I looked up.

The tree seemed an easy enough climb.

Exhilaration took over until my eyes were spotting, my mind calculating, and my limbs stretching. Until I was high enough to find a perch overlooking the courtyard just as they approached the main doors.

My mouth dropped open as the escort raised a hand and a ripple of iridescent light answered—so faint I could have missed it in a blink, but I always did have a focus for small details. They slipped inside, and though I hugged my arms tightly around myself against the bitter chill, I wasn’t leaving until I saw them come back out or devised a plan to follow them inside.