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Starburner
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STARBURNER
Copyright © 2018 by Claire Luana
Published by Live Edge Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-0-9977018-5-2 (Paperback)
ISBN-13: 978-0-9977018-6-9 (Ebook)
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: Okay Creations
Interior Formatting: Integrity Formatting
A hidden legacy. A shared destiny.
All Princess Rika wants is to be a moonburner like her mother, but her powers are nowhere to be found. When a fleet of dark ships appears on the horizon, Rika is convinced this is the perfect opportunity to force her magic to manifest. But the ships bring more than Rika bargained for—an invasion of soul-eating monsters intent on consuming all she holds dear.
Overwhelmed and outmatched, Rika finds an unlikely ally in Vikal—a dangerous man enslaved to the monsters that killed his family and ravaged his homeland. Thrown together in a desperate attempt to evade the soul-eaters, they begin to realize they have more in common than they ever thought possible. Alone, their lands and people are doomed to fall to the encroaching darkness. But together, they have a prayer of a chance to save their worlds. And to find something more in the process.
Prologue
Book One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Interlude
Book Two
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Interlude
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Interlude
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Interlude
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Interlude
Book Three
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
From the Author
About the Author
To all of you who’ve read and loved the Moonburner Cycle.
Thanks for helping make a dream come true.
THE FOREST WAS ablaze, a raging inferno of heat and smoke that reached towards the castle with grasping fingers. Vikal watched helplessly as birds and insects took to the air, as animals large and small rushed careening out of the flaming forest towards the aquamarine sea.
The creatures hadn’t needed to set the blaze—these monsters—these soul-eaters. They had done it for spite. Or perhaps for sport. When the first plumes of smoke danced skyward, he and most of his men had been already pinned hopelessly behind the walls of his castle, trapped with only the knowledge that the thick stone was a flimsy barrier to keep these enemies at bay. At least a few had escaped—Bahti and Kemala, whom he had sent to warn as many people as possible to flee. He prayed they were safe, that they had flown from the city of Surasaya and not looked back.
It had been six days. Six days since a flash of green light across the sea had heralded the arrival of a fleet of strange ships borne by jet-black sails. Six days to transform his kingdom, his very life, from one of joy and prosperity, to this hellish inferno. To a last stand that was sure to fail. It had been remarkably efficient.
Vikal watched mutely as a wall of ten soul-eaters emerged from the forest, seemingly impervious to flame in their black armor. They looked like insects beneath their shiny black plate; they stood straight like men, but each creature’s four long arms and sharp claws screamed the truth. They weren’t human. He didn’t know what they were. He had seen nothing but shadow and green-glowing eyes in the dark of their helmets when he and Sarya had gone to greet them, armed with little more than foolish pride. He held one of his twin blades loosely in his hands as the soul-eaters reached the castle gates and began banging on them with blows as powerful as a battering ram. He held his staff, his totem, in the other. Sarya. She had wanted to see them, to welcome these newcomers to their land. He could refuse her nothing, not when she jutted out her plump pink lip in mock affront, wearing down his resolve with honeyed kisses. She was the queen, after all, and he wasn’t the type of king who would forbid his wife anything. So Sarya, a wreath of jasmine crowning her ebony hair, had been the first to welcome their new visitors, to offer them peace and prosperity and friendship. She had been the first to be sucked dry—to turn to ash within the silk of her magenta sarong.
Vikal had played the memory over in his mind so many times that he now saw it when he closed his eyes. Burned in his vision—his wife’s face twisted in agony as the bulk of black armor bent over her, wrapped her in its four arms as if a lover. The sound of bursting wood broke him from the vision, and he opened eyes wet with refracted tears. He coughed as the smoke billowed across the castle wall, bearing ash and death on its wings.
“Your Majesty.”
He turned to find Cayono standing at the top of the stairs. His friend had a gash over his left eye from one of the many skirmishes they’d had with the soul-eaters, but the blood had long since congealed and crusted. Their attacks against the soul-eaters after the initial disastrous attempt at peace had all been utter failures. They had found no weapon that could touch the creatures, and each skirmish had only lost Vikal more men. Their short-lived guerrilla warfare had turned into a full-on-retreat to Castle Nuanita, the seat of his rule. He saw no path to victory this day.
“They have broken through the gates,” Cayono said.
Vikal sheathed his sword in one of the scabbards strapped to his back and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. Cayono had given Vikal his first bloody nose when they’d been playfighting at the age of six. It seemed fitting that they would go out together. “It has been an honor, bak. My brother.”
“For me as well.” Cayono’s deep voice was thick with emotion. “Let us show them that we Nuans are not without honor. We fight to the end.”
Vikal gave a curt nod. Ready or not, it seemed the end was here. But in truth, he found himself ready—bone-weary to his soul. Sarya had been his light, his reason for living. He didn’t want to go on without her.
The two men hurried down the stairs from the castle wall, jogging towards the sound of men fighting and dying. Three of his soldiers, clad in the green and gold livery of Nua, stumbled into them, fleeing from the horrors that strode towards them, filling the space under the castle wall.
“Steady,” Vikal said, and it seemed to hearten his men. They formed a rank behind him and Cayono, weapons ready.
The first soul-eater through the gate stepped from the darkness into the sunlight of the courtyard, its green eyes glowing. “Soul-eater,” Cayono said, spitting at its feet. One of the creature’s arms shot out and buried its claws in the leather armor Cayono wore, raising the man off the ground as if a child. Cayono, to his credit, showed no fear, and swung his sword at the creature, striking its armored torso with a resounding clang. Vikal lunged for the soul-eater, bringing his sword down on the cr
eature’s outstretched arm hard enough to send a ringing vibration through Vikal’s entire body. The blow should have severed the creature’s arm, but it hardly dented its armor.
Two of the soul-eater’s other arms shot out, taking Cayono’s head in its hands, almost tenderly. Vikal’s thick brows furrowed. What was it doing? When the soul-eater had embraced…taken Sarya, it had bent over her, sucking her essence into itself. Now, it seemed as if the creature was sending something into Cayono. Green energy pulsed between the monster and his friend, like an unnatural tether from the dark chasm of the creature’s helmet snaking into Cayono’s horrified face.
Vikal bellowed and hacked again at the creature, trying to pierce the seams of its armor, to get through somehow. Another soul-eater appeared before him, seizing Vikal by his jacket, lifting him up as he kicked wildly at the creature, screaming in anger and futility. The creature holding Cayono was setting him down now, releasing him. Vikal stilled for a moment in shock. Was it letting him go? But then his friend turned to face him, and hope turned bitter in his mouth. Cayono’s eyes were vacant, glowing green. He stood, swaying gently on his feet, his tanned face slack. The creature had infected him somehow. Was it…controlling him?
“No! Cayono!” Vikal bellowed, scrambling against the creature who held him, wedging his booted feet against the creature’s chest and pushing, straining against it. It was no use. The creature seized his ankles in one of its claws, while holding his jacket with the other. Its last two arms came up to his temples, cradling his head in its claws. He thrashed against it, fear rising like the evening tide. Take his soul. Fine. He didn’t want to live without Sarya. But to be a slave to these creatures…to be used by them…it was an unholy thing, too terrible to comprehend.
He screamed in anguish as the green light entered him, filling him with its sickly poison. He screamed until the energy clamped down on his vocal chords, silencing him with a mute command. His mouth shut, his body relaxed. The creature put him down and he swayed next to Cayono, his body compliant, waiting for its instructions. But in his mind, he was still himself. In his mind, he screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
A STREAK OF silver slashed through the sky, leaving a tail as straight and true as a shooting star. A clap of thunder and an explosion of colors followed, filling the night with sparkling arches that fell towards the city skyline like shimmering raindrops.
The crowd erupted into applause, the cheerful light from their lanterns bobbing like ships on the sea.
“That’s the biggest one yet,” Quitsu said, appearing in Rika’s lap with a nimble leap.
Rika started in surprise at the sight of the silver fox seishen, causing her horse to dance sideways beneath her. She steadied him with her knees, giving his chestnut flank a pat. “Quitsu, you gave me a fright.”
“You’ll live,” he said, curling against her, pressing his warm fluffy back into her stomach while he turned to watch the expanse of cheering and waving citizens.
“It’s a miracle Colum hasn’t blown his eyebrows off, experimenting with that powder,” Rika said as another two fireworks shot up into the sky—one spawning tiny pops of red, the other flashes of purple and gold.
“Those and a few other parts he’d miss more dearly,” Quitsu remarked.
Rika chuckled.
“Is that a smile I see?” Quitsu turned, peering at her with black button eyes. “My mission here is accomplished, then.”
“Your mission?”
“Your mother bid me remind you that this is a celebration. There’s no need to look so stone-faced. You’d think someone had died, not that we’re commemorating the fact that twenty years ago we vanquished the greatest foe our world has ever seen.”
Rika sighed, pasting a fake smile on her face and waving at the crowd. It was hard to make out faces in the dark, but the lights held aloft by the crowd stretched as far as she could see, back through the streets and alleys of Yoshai. She supposed they could see her, what with the line of attendants walking alongside the royal family bearing bright paper lanterns. “Tell Mother there’s no way I could forget the brave deeds that were done that day, when she and Father destroyed the tengu, saved the gods, and returned our land to safety and prosperity. I would not dream of dampening the festivities.”
“Rika.” Quitsu tsked. “You used to love hearing stories of the Battle of Yoshai. You and Koji would beg me for it every night before bed. This was your favorite festival, year after year. I can’t believe you’ve outgrown it so completely. What’s wrong?”
Ahead, the parade stretched up the hill towards the palace, where the nobles would join them for feasting and dancing. Her mother and father rode before her on two golden lionhorses, Queen Kailani and King Hiro of the consolidated lands of Kita and Miina, waving to the crowd with broad smiles. Her mother’s silver hair, the trademark of her magical moonburner abilities, was woven into an elaborate crown, while her father’s golden locks—marking him a sunburner—fell loose around his shoulders, bound only by a golden circlet. They both wore lavish clothes richly woven in the colors of their country, silver and gold, navy and red. Her father’s seishen companion, Ryu, a golden lion who stood almost as tall as Rika did, padded next to Hiro. Her parents together looked happy. Regal. Practically divine. She fingered a lock of her own plain black hair before tossing it back over her shoulder. “I’m not feeling very festive this year,” she finally replied.
Quitsu turned to examine her with that inscrutable fox face, and traitorous tears sprang to her eyes. She ripped her gaze from his, watching another firework as it exploded over the crowd in a riot of color. She pulled in a deep breath.
“Your powers will come, Rika.” Quitsu’s voice was gentle. “You’ll see. One day you’ll look back at this time and laugh at how worried you were.”
“I’m almost seventeen,” Rika said, her misery flaring to anger at Quitsu’s words. “Of course I’m worried. No moonburner in history has had her powers develop this late. Usually they come at twelve or thirteen.”
“No moonburner in history? Performed a thorough study of all of history, have we? Even the parts that weren’t recorded?”
“I’ve done a lot of research,” Rika retorted. “Plus, I overheard Nanase saying as much.” Female magic wielders—or moonburners—drew power from the light of the moon and were able to turn it into light, or heat, or flame. Males wielded the power of the sun to the same effect. Rika, apparently, was as magical as a ball of wax.
“Your mother couldn’t burn until she was eighteen,” Quitsu said.
“But someone purposefully put a block on her powers. And her hair turned silver anyway. That didn’t happen to me. My hair is still black as coal.” She stilled her hand, resisting the urge to tug at her locks again. Yanking them out at the roots wouldn’t get them to grow back silver.
“The Oracle prophesied that your powers alone would save this land from the greatest threat we have ever faced.”
“Maybe the Oracle’s gone senile,” Rika grumbled. “Because unless we’re talking about my ability on the dance floor, I don’t think I’m going to be saving anyone.”
“The Oracle is most certainly not senile,” Quitsu scolded. “Unpleasant, enigmatic, grumpy as a koumori getting a bath, but not senile.”
Rika cracked a smile at that.
“I know sixteen-year-old princesses aren’t very good at it, but be patient,” Quitsu said. “All will work out how it is supposed to.”
Rika nodded, taking in a deep breath and letting it out. Quitsu was right. True, she didn’t have her moonburner powers yet. And true, they were later in arriving than she had ever read about in the history books. But that didn’t mean they would never come. Perhaps they were just waiting to arrive with…a bang, she thought, as another firework exploded amongst the stars above her.
“Rika, mind if I ride ahead?” Her little brother, Koji, had trotted up beside her, an arrogant smirk pasted between the few sparse hairs he liked to call a beard. “Getting bored back there; plus, I figur
ed all the burners should ride together.” He clicked his tongue and his steed reared magnificently, causing the crowd to murmur in awe. A wave of applause followed as he cantered ahead and fell into line behind her parents.
Rika’s spirits plunged back into blackness as she struggled to keep a twisted scowl off her face.
Quitsu sighed. “I see my valiant efforts to urge patience and faith are wasted with your brother around.”
“Does he have to be so…ARGH,” she exclaimed, curling her hands into fists around the reins, unable to find a word that encompassed the entirety of Koji’s state of loathsomeness. She wished she was an only child. She wished he had never been born. She wished she could wipe the smug little smirk off his smug little face…
“He’s not fooling anyone with that attempt at a beard,” Quitsu remarked. “Those whiskers look like gingko trees in the desert. Confused about how they got there and doomed to a life of loneliness.”
Rika laughed despite herself, trying to hold back more tears. The truth was she didn’t hate her brother. Sure, he was an annoying little brat who got on her last nerve. But the truth was she was desperately, hopelessly, jealous. Because Koji, even though he was only fourteen, was a sunburner. His hair was fully golden. His powers had come in over a year ago, and he lorded them over her on a daily basis. But more than that—Koji had Enzo, his seishen. He was a golden unicorn, with a mane and fetlocks that flowed like blowing autumn grain. His coat glistened over strong muscles and his horn twisted like a sugared candy, tapering to a delicate point. Like all seishen, Enzo was a creature of legend, a supernatural companion who had journeyed from the Misty Forest to find her brother. Destined to spend his life bonded to him.
Rika stroked Quitsu’s downy fur as their parade neared the palace gates, trying to keep her gaze from sliding to her brother and Enzo. She looked at the crowd, at the lights strung across the palace walls, at the torches angled up to illuminate the sandstone walls of their home. She was grateful for Quitsu’s presence leaning back against her. Quitsu was her mother’s seishen and had been with Queen Kai since she’d been seventeen. He had helped her find her way out of the desert, had been with her when Kai had first become queen, defeating the evil Queen Airi. He had been there when they had saved the goddess Tsuki and defeated the tengu demons. Quitsu was a comfort, but he was temporary. On loan in those moments when Kai saw Rika struggling.