Starborn - Katie MacAlister A Born Prophecy Novel

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Hallow slid the staff into place on his back before turning an apologetic glance to me. I shrugged, knowing that Thorn was chattering away at Hallow, even if only he could hear the spirit’s voice. “Yes, she does look annoyed, but it wasn’t I who annoyed her. Thorn offers you greetings, Allegria.”

      “Hello, Thorn,” I said, trying to look less sexually frustrated than I felt.

      Hallow heaved up one of the packs onto his shoulder and reached for mine. I let him take it, collecting my bow and quiver, as well as gathering up some bread and fruit in a clean cloth. I followed him down the stairs, and out of the tower, smiling to myself despite the way the morning had turned out. It always amused me to listen to Hallow deal with Thorn’s excited chatter.

      “No, I’m not going to take down in writing what you have to report. We don’t need to have a permanent record of your words. If that happens, and I find it difficult to believe that vast herds of arcanists down through the ages will be lusting for a record of your every word as you think they will, then I will take responsibility for their anger. No, I am not going to employ a scribe so that I can dictate your words to him. It’s not about the coin that it would cost…Thorn, Allegria is a priestess, a lightweaver, and a former Bane of Eris. She is not going to become your scribe either. For the love of the goddesses, just tell me what you found in Starfall.”

      As we hauled the packs out to a small cart, Hallow murmured to me to tether Buttercup to the back while he fetched Penn, his gelding, all the while dealing with Thorn’s obviously non-stop liturgy of demands, comments, and information.

      “Right. I will. No, she isn’t mad at you; she would simply like to be able to talk to me, and she can’t do that if you’re talking. Yes, well, she doesn’t know how lucky she is that she can’t hear you. That wasn’t a slur…for the love of the stars and moons above, go! I don’t care where you go, just go before my mind snaps!” Hallow, who had tied his hair back in a leather thong, had run his hands through it so many times in the last fifteen minutes that tendrils flickered in the slight breeze. Thorn rose off the staff, plopped onto his head, making a rude gesture with his wooden hindquarters, then flew off to the north.

      “I’m sorry,” Hallow said, turning to me. “He was worse than usual.”

      “He just gets excited about things,” I said with a little shrug, deftly avoiding Buttercup’s teeth when I tossed a couple of water skins into the back of the cart. She liked to nip at things whenever she felt she was being taken advantage of, which was basically any time that did not include a meal. “Did he have any news from Darius?”

      “Yes.” Hallow’s expression darkened as he backed Penn up into the cart shafts. Penn usually objected to such demeaning work as pulling a cart, but he had clearly been bored by his enforced inactivity and suffered himself to be harnessed. “He’s reforming the Starborn army.”

      “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I wondered about the little frown between Hallow’s brows.

      He hesitated, absently stroking Penn’s neck. “Under normal circumstances, yes, it would be good.”

      “What’s not normal?” I asked, confused. “You weren’t happy when he let the army of Starborn—an army that you, yourself, rounded up and organized—scatter to the winds earlier this year. So why are you frowning now?”

      His gaze held mine, the shiny blue of his eyes now pale, just as if they were frosted over. “Thorn says the army he’s building isn’t in service of the Starborn, or of the queen. It’s his own army. He’s declared the queen dead, and himself king in her place.”

      Chapter 2

      Hallow was worried.

      “I don’t see that we have much to fear,” Allegria said, climbing into the cart. “Darius is weak. He can declare himself king of all of Alba, but that doesn’t mean he actually is king. After all, he couldn’t even keep the army of Starborn from disbanding.”

      Hallow checked that the supplies were secured in the back of the cart, avoided Buttercup’s attempt to snap off his arm, and moved around the captain of the guard when the latter suddenly materialized in front of him. “Perhaps not, but Thorn said that Darius had help from a magister who seemed to have much more backbone.”

      “Going somewhere?” the captain asked, popping up in front of him again as he double-checked the harness. Penn hated drawing a cart, but it was easier than finding another horse to do the same.

      He gave Penn a consolatory pat on the neck before answering the captain. “Yes. We go to Aryia. I am placing you in charge of Kelos while we’re gone.”

      The captain pursed his lips. “All the way across the sea? Isn’t that a little premature?”

      “No. Two of the three moonstones are there.” Hallow tried not to allow his irritation with the ghostly captain to show. Although they’d worked out a mostly peaceful relationship since Hallow had taken over as head of the arcanists—and Master of Kelos—the captain seemed to delight in challenging him at every opportunity, throwing obstacles in his path whenever possible.

      “But what of the third?” the captain asked in what Hallow would have deemed a coy voice had it been anyone else.

      “A magister?” Allegria asked at the same time, clearly chewing over the idea of Darius’s treachery. “What is a Fireborn doing helping the steward of the Starborn?”

      “Undoubtedly claiming some power.” Hallow turned to get into the cart, but once again the captain stood in his way.

      “You do not answer me?” the captain demanded, now looking insulted. “Do I no longer matter to your grandiose plans now that you are Master?”

      Hallow only just managed to keep from rolling his eyes, reminding himself that patience was his most valuable tool when dealing with the deceased. “I don’t know where the third stone is, but there are twelve arcanists besides me hunting for it, so I’m sure we’ll find it. Now if you don’t mind, we would like to get underway before Kiriah sends the moon into the sky.”

      The captain pursed his lips and cast a pointed glance at Allegria. She didn’t see it, frowning as she stared at nothing, obviously thinking about Darius. Hallow got into the cart next to her, and started Penn moving forward.

      The captain disappeared, then materialized directly in front of Penn. The horse was used to the spirits of Kelos by now, and simply swished his tail in irritation as he marched through the translucent figure.

      Hallow had a glimpse of outrage on the captain’s face before his insubstantial form dissolved.

      “I don’t see what benefit this magister hopes to gain from helping Darius. For one, magisters fall under the domain of Lord Israel, and we both know that the lord of the Fireborn isn’t going to take kindly to one of his own defecting to Darius. Especially since the latter let us all down when it came to clearing out the Harborym last year.” Allegria’s face always gave Hallow pleasure, but now, with her abstracted expression, he had an almost overwhelming urge to take her into his arms and kiss every inch of her lightly freckled skin. He particularly liked to kiss the circlet of black dots that crossed her forehead, a relic of her time as a Bane of Eris.

      “Lord Israel is more than a little unhappy with Darius since he has refused to attend any of the councils of the four armies, but I don’t know that he would be overly upset by a magister working with the Starborn. It might very well be that the man is there on his orders,” he pointed out.

      The captain of the guard’s form shimmered into view again in front of Penn. This time, he held out one hand, commanding, “Halt!”

      Both Hallow and Penn ignored him as his form was dispersed again. Hallow’s thoughts were turned toward the arguments he would lay before the guardians of the two moonstones he and his arcanists had located, which left him little time to worry about placating the irate

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