I gaped at him, but I couldn’t close my mouth. He had told me how the moon had stolen her light. I felt like I was outside of my body, a third party listening to a story I could never have fathomed on my own. A demigod created by accident, forced to guard the space between kingdoms . . . it was beyond any fairy tale.
It was no wonder he knew the geography of Earth so well. He’d watched it from the sky for . . . how long? Millennia, surely. I could not think of a single tale or fable in which there was no twilight.
“The power of the stars held me in my prison.” He was whispering now, watching his hands again. “And I . . . I couldn’t . . . be there anymore. I was alone, save for just after Sunset and before Sunrise. Then I could see the Earth Mother and Her mortals for a short while. Learn their habits, their names . . . but they never noticed me. But Moon’s and Sun’s powers would press against me and send me back into the darkness.”
He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and curled around himself.
Pushing myself onto my knees, I put my arms around him, comforting him as he had comforted me in the dark streets. My mind reeled, trying to imagine . . .
Darkness. He’d lived in darkness, alone and lonely, as stronger gods and demigods rose in the heavens.
I thought of Saiyon, and the considerate things He’d done for me, the way He’d tucked my hand in the crook of His arm. Could He really be so cruel?
“And then a star died.” He kept his hands where they were. “A star died, and my chains loosened, and I ran. I stole time and hid on the Earth Mother. I don’t think She even knows who I am, She’s slept so long . . .”
“Ris.”
He was somewhere far away, somewhere dark and lonely, somewhere I couldn’t reach him.
I waited, squeezed tighter, then spoke his name again. “Ris.”
He didn’t respond.
I let a glimmer of starlight seep through my skin, and an indigo sheen rippled across his skin and clothes. “Ristriel.”
He lifted his head, his expression so vulnerable, so childlike, so mortal.
“The war is not your fault,” I admonished, pulling back to better see his face. “They have struck against each other since before your creation. Their war is what created you in the first place.”
I tried to find more words. You didn’t deserve that. But they all seemed so weak, so small. Not enough.
I ran my palms down his arms, resting them at his elbows. “Thank you, for telling me.”
He didn’t answer.
We sat in silence a long moment, our breaths the only sound between us. The oil lamp flickered. I wondered how long it would burn. I could not let it go out. I could not leave Ristriel in darkness.
“A star died before I became star mother,” I whispered. “Was that the star that freed you?”
He rested his chin on his knees. “I believe so. My chains must have drawn their powers from it.”
I nodded, piecing together our timelines. He’s been running for nearly a year, then.
“Will Saiyon—the Sun—Will my presence make it easier for Him to find you?”
He glanced at my ring.
I wrenched the priceless band from my finger and tossed it across the cellar. He watched it roll and bounce across the stones, spin, and settle.
“We’re in the Nediah Cathedral,” I said.
“I know.”
“Is it safe for you to leave?”
He glanced up at the stone ceiling as though he could see to the sky. “No. Not yet. It’s ill advised for Him or His servants to trespass a city, but they will not hesitate long.”
“I need to see Quelline so she knows I’m all right.” She’d last seen me marching off to meet with the Sun Himself.
He studied my face. Swept a few strands of loose hair from my cheek. “Go.”
“But you’ll be alone—”
“Ceris.” His expression turned sweet, loving, and in it I saw endless years. The face of a demigod. “I have spent my entire existence waiting. A few hours is nothing.”
I stared at him, heart surging, breaking, pounding.
And I knew what I had to do.
CHAPTER 22
I wound my way to Quelline’s home, the streets of Nediah seeming steeper than they had been. The house was quiet when I slipped inside. I wasn’t sure where everyone had gone; the abnormal activity had disturbed people’s normal routines, and Nediah was not yet functioning as it should. Some might have been resting upstairs, but I didn’t search for them. Instead, I went to that polished box and pulled out the fragile tapestries of Idlysi’s genealogy.