Starkeeper of the Fractured Crown

“Beautiful,” he commented with a small smile. “Do you know what your name means?”

I knew why I picked it, yes.

At my look, he nodded. “A human on this side, one without malice? It seems hard to believe.”

I shrugged. “And yet here I am.”

“Here you are,” he confirmed. “Why wear a mask if you’reso unafraid?”

I was fucking terrified. Anyone on this street could change their mind at any second and I was gone, but there were things here I needed. Things my brother needed. I didn’t have another option.

“While I don’t believe that the Nightwalkers are as wicked as Raphael proclaims them to be, that doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. You can be kind and still want revenge.”

“Do you?”

I glanced towards the alley again. I had to leave. The sun was getting too low. “I search for understanding before I serve my judgment.”

“Is that why you learned Sarivosian?”

I turned back to him, studying him. He was asking me all of these questions; I needed answers for myself too. “Why is a member of the High Court here in Therian? What are you looking for?”

He was quiet a moment, his eyes growing distant. After some time, he finally released a quiet breath, and with it some weight from his shoulders. “The High King of the Fallen, Trick Michael, was in search of a stone. The color of auburn, the look of glass, no bigger than your palm. It’s called the Eye of Orion, that is why it’s important. He killed an entire village of his own people to get it.”

My brows pulled together. “He slaughtered an entire village for this stone? Why?”

Talaroe shrugged. “Why does any king or queen do what they do?”

“Power?” I suggested.

“The corrupt ones,” he half agreed. Talaroe snapped his fingers, a door of gold rimmed in red appearingbefore us. “I have to get back to Satarmore, he gets testy when I’m late.” He stepped up to the door and glanced back at me. “How curious, a human wandering among monsters.” With that, he stepped through the door, disappearing from view.

2

My Bible, Chapter 23, Verse 62

It breathes deceit within the treacherous waters of adversity and morality. Infinite does not exist within the constructs of this life, but only within the gasps of breath in the next.

Talaroe

No, Merinda, I will not make a deal with you for a payment of root berries,” Satarmore was saying as I stepped through the door into my brother’s throne room.

She was whimpering. “It’s all I have,” she said on her knees, holding a small sack stained on the bottom in blue. “Please.”

Satarmore, with his golden crown sat crookedly atop his head, waved heraway, his golden rings catching the fading light of the day through the windows above him. “If you’d like me to murder your husband, I require more. The audacity thatrootberries would be enough payment is just…” He released a breath. “You’ve given me a headache.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line as I leaned on the cane. I didn’t need it, but it was a treasured gift from Penny, given to me long ago, a memory of a better time and a reminder of my true father; Luke Brachius, an old warlock who had adopted not only my brother and I, but Penny, Eric, Aeron, and Phillip as well. He was a good man, the best I knew.

The woman shoved herself to a stand, clearly displeased if not a little inebriated. “Fine, I’ll go somewhere else to find someone willing enough.”

Satarmore placed a hand over his heart in the most dramatic way. “Oh no, whatever shall I do without your deep and pulsating need for revenge?”

Merinda huffed, flicked her wrist, and stepped through a portal she had created. A pixie. Interesting. Her glamor had been good, better than many I had seen over the last handful of years.

Satarmore shoved himself up from his throne with a grunt not meant for one looking so young. 36, to be exact, unless I decided to add another year to my looks, then Satarmore would do the same. An older brother through and through.

“I do hope you’re here with answers and not more problems,” he sighed, walking down the dais to his scotch cart. “I don’t need another headache. Root berries? To brutally murder a cheating husband? Pathetic. Pennies todollars. Pennies to dollars.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Wrong world. There was no such thing as pennies and dollars here, but Satarmore and I had gotten in plenty of fights over the correct verbiage over the years that I let it go.