Merciless Stars Read online

  MERCILESS STARS

  CANDACE ROBINSON

  Copyright © 2022 by Candace Robinson

  Edited by Brandy Woods Snow

  Cover Design by Hannah-Sternjakob-Design

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book may not be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  For those who wish to fly

  Chapter One

  Silver

  Annihilate. Teeth and claws. Tear flesh. Blood. Death. Those five phrases repeated inside Silver’s head. They were the phrases her sister, Afton—the queen of Ketill—had told her for as long as she could remember. It was for the safety of their home—their kingdom.

  A man wriggled in Afton’s grasp. He hadn’t spoken a word since arriving—none of the three guards sent by the King of Enare had. When the other two guards, who now lay dead on the marble floor, attempted to chain Afton’s wrists, they’d wound up shredded to pieces by Silver and her sister.

  Running her tongue across her teeth, Silver wiped them clean of blood as best she could. The two sharp rows of teeth had already retracted into her gums, leaving only her permanent ones in their wake. But the earth’s magic still coursed through her, aching to unleash again.

  “King Thorin’s betrothment letter said it was up to me,” Afton growled near the man’s ear, her pitch-black eyes boring into him, her long white-blonde hair swinging forward. “Then you so graciously, or should I say ungraciously, changed your mind when I said I would take my time to think about it.”

  His hand shoved at Afton’s chest as he attempted to slip out of her grasp.

  Not one to easily give up, Silver thought.

  “Wrong answer.” Afton thrust her head forward with a snarl, her razor-sharp teeth ripping the man’s throat open, slicing through his neck and spine until his head thumped to the stone floor. Thick crimson pooled out from both open wounds.

  Another head to add to the collection of traitorous skulls in the tunnel below the castle. All he had to do was wait and let Afton decide on an answer to the king’s proposal. Silver’s sister didn’t murder for the sake of murder, but in times like these, it was necessary.

  From an early age, Silver had learned several things—Afton would always choose for herself, and she would not let anyone ever control her. Those were just a couple of the reasons why Silver loved her sister.

  When Afton was ten years old, she ended their cruel parents' lives, making her queen—the youngest ruler in Ketill's history. Silver had never once yearned to be queen—she’d only ever wanted to help her sister continue her legacy.

  A stir and a stomp of boots thump-thumped from behind her. Silver whirled around, ready to attack again if she must.

  Javan, Afton’s guard, rounded the corner, carrying his cane in one hand, his lips pursed. “Looks like you two have made quite the mess, haven’t you?” He pinched the bridge of his nose as his gaze swept across the crimson-smeared floor and walls.

  Afton wiped her bloody palms against the skirts of her viridescent dress and picked up her mace. “So we did. You should have been guarding.”

  “You allowed them access without me knowing. I just found out from an outside guard.” He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “This isn’t going to bode well with Enare. You know very well things have been falling apart over there for years.”

  “It seemed to bode well for me,” Afton spat.

  This is true...

  “King Thorin is going to react,” Javan snapped back.

  “You’re not my father.”

  “I’m not your friend either. I’m your guard.”

  Afton glared, her eyes full of icy daggers.

  Javan took a step forward, arms folded over his chest, his hazel gaze resting on Afton. “Silver wouldn’t have done this if you hadn’t influenced her.”

  “We all know Silver is your favorite and you would love to see her on the throne.” Afton’s scowl deepened.

  He gave an exhausted sigh. “I’ve never once said that about Silver, have I?”

  Javan always thought of Silver as the gentle one, the proper one, the one who cared for everyone. That might be true, but sometimes blood was required over picking and gifting a bouquet of flowers. Sometimes the bouquet needed to be drenched in blood.

  “You know I’m right here, also standing in the room,” Silver said to break up some of the tension.

  Both hard stares turned on her.

  “Or not.” Silver held her hands up, taking a step back. “I can be a ghost if you wish. But Afton made the correct decision—the guards were planning on taking her against her will.” She pressed a hand to her chest, where her scar was visible just below her neck. As a young child, she’d been burned by her sister. It wasn’t Afton’s fault—it was their parents’. Afton always said their parents lay dead in the darkest pit of Torlarah. Silver hoped it was true and prayed they were suffering.

  “Mm-hmm. I’m still sure there was a better solution,” Javan grumbled.

  “Get this mess cleaned up. I expect to have their hearts fully cooked for dinner.” Afton rolled her eyes at Javan and sauntered out of the room.

  A solution... That was what they needed. Javan’s age was beginning to show at times, and although he was still strong when necessary, he was using his cane more often. Afton wouldn’t replace him while he was still breathing, but she needed to have a guard prepared for when the time was right. Someone trustworthy. Silver stared at the dead bodies and closed her eyes, trying desperately to think of a plan. If she could keep her friend's soul in human form in this world, then she would have a permanent solution. King Thorin would send more guards when his didn’t return, and Afton would need someone besides Javan. To make her friend—Keelen—whole, Silver would need to dig deeper into the dark magic of the earth to conjure him to stay. Even then, she didn’t know if it would truly work after her numerous failed attempts over the years when he'd been a raven.

  Silver stepped out of the room into the soft lighting reflecting off the walls. Lifting her skirts, she rushed after her sister, across the plush carpeted hallway. She pushed her black hair behind her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist. It only took a moment before she found Afton walking farther down the hall. She picked up her pace and skirted around her sister before stopping in front of her.

  Speckles of crimson coated the bodice and skirt of Afton’s gown. “I think I may have a solution for King Thorin and his control of Enare.” Silver’s chest heaved and she peered down, catching sight of her own thin dress smeared in blood.

  Afton arched an obsidian brow,
contrasting drastically with her light hair. “The foolish guards he sent are dead. Now, excuse me.”

  She grabbed Afton’s wrist, and her sister gently removed Silver’s fingers.

  “I need to use the wax,” Silver hurried on. “After you bathe, I want to show you something.”

  “Silver!” Afton stared at the ceiling before resting her dark eyes back on her. They mirrored Silver’s black irises with a white pupil in the center—eyes that no other in their kingdom had ever been blessed with, ones that couldn’t even be altered by magic. “You don’t have to ask me to use the wax, but I’m tired. We can discuss this betrothal issue later. If those guards had been patient, they would have learned my answer was yes. I’ve grown tired of receiving these letters from Thorin the past four months. But my plan hasn’t changed—I’ll still destroy the king. Ketill will never be united with Enare under him. From ‘our betrothal,’ Enare would be ours once he’s dead.”

  Afton brushed by her, sauntering past the sculpted statues without true faces, their cerulean bodies standing in different elegant dancing poses. Silver didn’t go after her. She smiled to herself—her sister would see.

  Silver clenched her filthy skirts, not bothering to change dresses since the fabric would only get messy again anyway.

  She hurried to the end of the hall and opened the door to Afton’s study. In the large space sat a desk, completely organized, with a stack of papers and an inkwell and quill resting atop the wood. Shelves of books hugged the walls, some with decaying split spines or fraying edges, others appearing as if they’d never been opened.

  A massive cauldron hung in the center of the room from a metal chain, the peach wax kept bubbling by an invisible flame. The power came from the land. Afton and Silver didn’t need the cauldron to use the magic, but with the wax brewing and alive, it was like an amplifier—making them stronger within the castle walls and more prepared for enemies. The liquid stayed churning due to the remedies she and Afton would retrieve from herbal sellers. Despite the cauldron always bubbling, no matter what she did, Keelen could never stay for long.

  A thought struck her—Afton had wanted the hearts for dinner. Damn it. While trying to hurry, she’d forgotten to return to Javan before coming to the study. Lifting her skirts, she ran down the hallway to the meeting room where the bodies still lay.

  Silver sighed in relief, her hand at her chest. “Thank the spirits.”

  It shouldn’t matter which heart she used, so Silver grabbed the broad shoulders of a shorter guard who weighed the least. Silver pulled him halfway out of the room when Javan rounded the corner, this time leaning on his cane as he walked. In his other palm rested several sharp tools for him to dig out the hearts for the cook to prepare.

  He stopped, a single eyebrow arched in suspicion. “What are you trying to do?”

  “I need to borrow this guard for a bit. Can you help me?” She smiled wide, pleading. “And in return, I’ll make things easier for you.” She moved to one of the other bodies, magic swirling inside her. Flexing her fingers and extending her claws, Silver dove her hands into the man’s stomach with a sickening squish, then up and under his rib cage. Cradling the warm organ in her palm, she casually pulled it out and repeated her motions on the second body. She held out both wet hearts, revealing the bloody muscle, to Javan. Drip. Drip.

  “You girls can do all that but can’t manage to lift a body with magic?” Javan asked, incredulous.

  “Perhaps one day I’ll be able to.” She placed the hearts on the table and walked back to the body she’d been dragging. “All right, help me bring this one to the study.”

  Javan slowly ran a hand across his jaw but nodded and set down his cane. He grabbed the dead guard by his limp legs.

  They exchanged no words as they passed the portraits on the wall and the statues decorating the hallway. She struggled with the guard’s bulky shoulders, hefting them higher.

  Once through the already-open door, they carried the body inside and laid it down beside the cauldron.

  Javan stood there, unmoving, his brow furrowing.

  “That will be all for now.” Silver shooed him out with both hands so she could concentrate.

  “You do know not to eat raw hearts and other organs, correct?”

  “Trust me, you’ll love the outcome of this.” She grinned, knowing it might take some of the work load off of Javan. “But I need to focus alone.”

  “Uh-huh.” He still didn’t budge.

  “I’ve got it. Just go.”

  Javan gripped the bridge of his nose and exited the study, closing the door gently behind him.

  Finally, alone.

  Silver tapped her chin and scanned the room—the three chairs, the desk, the bookcases, the floor, the body. She swiped the few things from the desk to the floor, then realized the top wouldn’t be long enough. Damn. Hurriedly, she restacked the papers on the desk in a way that wouldn’t be noticeable to Afton.

  Taking one of the large ladles from the chain of the cauldron, Silver stirred the peach-colored wax in a clockwise circle.

  At the age of eight, Silver had used her magic to shape a raven out of wax after Afton killed their parents. She then brought the raven to life, but it was no ordinary bird. She'd placed a soul of a young human boy within the raven—Keelen, the name she’d given him since he’d been unable to recall his—yet she could never figure out a way to make the wax hold its shape for long. No matter how many times she created a new raven, him staying remained temporary.

  No one had ever known about Keelen besides her—even Afton. He was her secret, and now he wouldn’t be any more if she could make him a permanent weapon. Sometimes, when she tried to bring him to life, the wax refused to listen. Sometimes it was for days, sometimes weeks, but this time it had been months.

  Silver’s heart pounded beneath her rib cage while she thought that the wax may not listen to her once more. Or perhaps Keelen didn’t want to come back—perhaps he was tired of being reshaped into a raven and falling to pieces.

  Each time she located Keelen within Torlarah—the afterlife—he could never remember his full story when she carried his soul out, only his age. He had been ten when she was eight. Although he was dead, he aged as she did, and she couldn’t explain how it was possible. But it was.

  Silver blew out a breath. She was twenty now, stronger, and could dig deeper into the dark magic. With the right necessities, and her power at its full potential, this would be the time for him to stay.

  Or so she hoped.

  “All right, hands and mind, let’s do this.” Using a ladle, she spread the boiling wax onto the floor and drew up a wind to cool the liquid into clumps. A glittering iridescent smoke curled around the wax, turning it more malleable. Her hands absorbed the warmth of the wax as she smoothed its texture, the wax’s herbal scent filling the room.

  With precision, she pressed her fingertips to the smooth texture and dug her digits in. She shaped, folded, weaved, and formed it as best she could. Silver didn’t know what he should look like—he’d only ever been a raven before—so she entrusted the magic to cooperate with her in making him complete.

  A soft clink sounded from outside the door and Silver stood, brushing her hands down the front of her dress before opening it.

  Resting on the carpet, she spotted a silver dagger—ornate jewels and engravings decorated the handle—waiting for her. Javan was being generous, even though she didn’t mind using her hands.

  After shutting the door, Silver went and knelt beside the guard’s dead body. She carefully used the sharp tip of her new gift to pluck out each of the violet eyes so Keelen would be able to see. Then she cut out the tongue for him to taste, and a heart for him to live. Organ after organ came next, and she wondered if she should have used all three bodies to find the strongest variety, but these appeared plentiful enough. She tucked each one inside the wax and covered them with thick layers—even the eyeballs were hidden.

  Silver had missed Keelen, but she was also tired o
f seeing him die over and over because her magic wasn’t strong enough to keep him whole. She’d been selfish, bringing him back time and time again. And down, hidden beneath the bloody muscular layers of her heart, was something—an emotion that could only also be considered selfish on her part.

  Because, she loved him...

  Why was she thinking about her heart when she needed to focus on his? Silver broke through several dark barriers, tugging at threads, all while feeling as though she was falling. Her breaths increased as she searched for Torlarah’s fog. Farther. Farther. Before her, something thick and white drifted toward her. There it was. She went deeper. A faint heartbeat pulsed in front of her, then she could sense his familiar essence. She latched onto him and pulled, darkness rousing around her, within her, struggling to tear itself away. But she yanked harder, drawing the shimmering pearl up and out of Torlarah before placing the soul inside the wax.

  Silver pressed her palms to the now-hardened chest, one hand right over the other. Closing her eyes, she shallowly pumped the area and whispered the word that would bring him to life. “Awake.”

  She opened her eyes. Smooth tan skin coated the wax body, silken to perfection. “It worked,” she breathed.

  Bones would be beneath the new layer, as would muscle and nerves. She’d never seen him with skin—he’d always had the waxy sheen while a raven. The guard’s organs, along with the dark magic, changed that. His new flesh was without hair for the time being, but it would grow as blood now pumped through his veins.

  Silver’s heart caught in her throat as she continued to stare at him. He was beautiful. She hadn’t known how he would look, but it wouldn’t have mattered as long as he was there.

  She waited and waited, the ends of her fingers tapping together. “Perhaps it didn’t work.”

  Then his chest rose and fell, and his eyelids slowly opened to bright violet irises, like lavender under warm sunlight.

  His head slowly turned toward her, his neck popping, and his body appearing stiff.

  “Hi, Keelen.” Silver grinned.

  He didn’t smile in return, his voice seemingly trapped in his throat.