Tapestry of Night is the first book in the Star Cast series. Read chapter one for free now!
Hoofbeats thunder through the air, rousing me from my work.
I set down my quill next to the star chart and stretch my arms overhead, my back cracking as I arch it with a grimace. That’s what I get for working all night hunched over the desk like a crone.
The chair screeches across the wooden floor as I push it back and stand, strolling over to one of the thin, arched windows to investigate. The foggy glass lets in a weak stream of early morning light. I push open the window and breathe in a lungful of pine fresh air.
The sky is a quiet blue, the distant mountains tinged lilac in the morning haze, and somewhere much closer, beyond the snow-dusted trees of the forest, the little village of Henling starts to wake. My home for the last three moons – and hopefully not much longer. A pang of guilt reminds me I’ve left Gee alone in our wagon all night again.
The cold nips at my nose as I lean farther out of the tower, looking down at the restless horse tied below, a blot of color against the white snow. Its flanks heave, huffing clouds in the frigid air. A single set of footprints lead inside the enclave.
Someone’s returned in a hurry.
I move back to the desk and gently run my hand over the natal star chart I’ve finished casting for Lady Bryher’s new baby. The ink’s dry, so I roll up the paper and tuck the scroll into my bag.
“Cassia?” Sister Lucine’s breathless voice calls out as she bursts into the room, violet robes billowing around her. Her heart-shaped face is drawn, her usually fair cheeks ruddy.
“Stars, Lucine. Your hair looks wild.” I eye the long, red tangles as she strides toward me. “Was that you on the horse?” As soon as the question leaves my lips, her panic reaches me, as if it floated through the air. My heart beats a little faster and a chill creeps into my bones.
Not again.
“The snatchers are coming!” She sucks in a breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “They’ll be here in a few days.”
Something in my gut hollows. “But the Taiga Pass is still blocked by snow. How–”
“It’s melting…fast. Faster than usual for this time of year. They’re already in Osele.” She sweeps past me and up to the window, bracing her hands against the ledge. She peers out as if she can see all the way to Osele, the next village down the mountain.
I move to stand behind her. How can Sister Lucine know this? “A warning in the stars?”
She shakes her head, auburn hair swishing. “Not this time. I was there myself yesterday. I saw the cage wagons. At first light, I took one of the mountain trails here.”
My eyes widen. The narrow, winding trails are barely wide enough for a person, let alone a horse. It’s why Henling becomes cut off from the rest of Myrsia every winter when snow blocks the Taiga Pass.
I shake my head in disbelief. “You could have died, Lucine.”
“I had to warn you.” She reaches out to grab my arm. The tattoo on her wrist, a constellation of five tiny stars, peeks out from beneath the flared sleeve of her robe. I pat her cold hand, her skin pale beneath my darker complexion.
Snatcher inspections don’t happen often up here in the remote mountain villages. Not like in the bigger towns and cities in the south. This news will throw everybody into a panic.
Lucine lets go of me, and I unhook my heavy, green cloak from the back of the chair, wrapping it around my shoulders and untucking my long, dark hair with my arm.
“I’ll go to Henling now.” I swing my satchel onto my back. “I’ll warn them, and we’ll round up the children. There’s only one boy, Timo, who’s had his Awakening over the winter.” I pick up the astrological almanac sitting on the desk. “Can I take the ephemeris?”
“Yes, yes.” Sister Lucine waves a hand in irritation. “Cassia, I didn’t come back so you could act as messenger and warn the village. I came back to warn you. If you insist on warning the village, you must come back here afterward and hide.”
I feign innocence. “Oh? Why?”
She raises her brows and places her hands on her hips, impatience radiating from her. “Because of that uncanny intuition you’re so quick to downplay.”
Magic. The word pops into my mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lucine huffs out a breath, not appreciating my evasiveness. We’ve become something like friends over the winter. Annoyingly, though, that means she can read me like the book I’m clutching.
“Besides,” I continue, “I’m eighteen now. The snatchers are only interested in children. They won’t look twice at me.”
Lucine shakes her head but doesn’t argue.
“Have you told anyone else?” I ask.
“I went straight to the High Priestess when I got back,” Sister Lucine replies. She runs a hand through her tangled hair, wincing when her fingers get caught in the knots. “She wants to see you.”
I suck in a breath. “Stars. Why?” In all the winters I’ve spent in Henling, all the times I’ve visited the Stellar Sisters of Celestial Devotion, I’ve met the High Priestess only once. The Stellar Sisters are practically nocturnal, and when she is awake, she’s usually tucked away in the Sanctum, the sister-only heart of the enclave. “I’m honored, but I should get back to Henling to warn them as soon as–”
“She’s seen your star chart,” Lucine interrupts.
I let this unpleasant fact wash over me. That damn star chart and its prophecy. I should have burned it when I had the chance.
Lucine’s green eyes shine. “She probably wants to know why you’ve been lying about having magic.”
* * *
I trail behind Lucine down the spiral steps of the astrology tower, then back up the stairs of another. My heart hammers with anticipation. I shift the heavy book in the crook of my arm, taking comfort from its weight.
Sister Lucine knocks and opens the door. The High Priestess doesn’t stand when we walk into the room. She remains seated at a round, pine table that fills most of the space. Her amethyst robes are a slightly darker shade of purple than Lucine’s, the velvet embroidered with tiny copper-colored constellations that seem to glow softly in the morning light spilling through the windows.
“High Priestess Andromeda. Cassia’s here.” Lucine ushers me forward.
I step farther into the room and execute what I hope is a respectful curtsey.
Andromeda raises her intense, brown eyes to me. Her skin is golden brown, her stern face oddly ageless. Only the faint lines around her eyes and two streaks of gray framing her dark hair suggest she’s older than forty.
“Sit, please.” She indicates one of the chairs next to her, and I lower into it, resting the book on my knees primly, not wanting to look too comfortable.
The teapot clinks and gurgles as the High Priestess pours steaming, amber liquid into the thick, ceramic cups in front of her. The spiced scent of tea hangs in the air between us.
“I take it Sister Lucine has told you the news?” The High Priestess slides a cup toward me.
I lean forward to take it. “She told me about the snatchers.”
Curiosity curls from the High Priestess like the steam from my mug. “If she’s brought you to see me, may I assume you declined our offer of sanctuary?”
I pause from blowing on my tea. “I appreciate the offer, High Priestess, but I don’t need it.” I shift in the chair, taking a sip of tea. “The snatchers will do what they always do. Liaise with the noble family and only inspect children under thirteen.”
Andromeda takes a slow sip. “I’ve seen a copy of your star chart from the Lunar Enclave. It seems you’re finally showing the gift that was promised.”
If the mug in my hand were glass, it would shatter under my grip. “That star chart was wrong. The Lunar Sisters made a mistake.”
I had believed the chart once, a long time ago. But I hadn’t allowed myself think about it for years. Whatever is happening to me now can’t be what was prophesied. This isn’t a gift. Feeling other people’s emotions is a burden. One that’s only getting worse.
Andromeda’s frustration doesn’t show on her face, but it’s there, brewing below the surface. “It doesn’t matter what you call it, Cassia. Gift, intuition, magic… It makes you a target.”
I chew on my lip, my hands still clamped tightly around the mug.
“Do you really think the snatcher will sense my…” I search for a word to use besides “magic”, “my intuition?”
“I wouldn’t offer you sanctuary otherwise.” Andromeda’s dark eyes bore into me.
I lift my chin under her gaze. “What about the children in the village? Does your sanctuary extend to them?”
The High Priestess shares a glance with Lucine. “The Sisters of Celestial Devotion cannot interfere with Governance procedures. Including snatcher inspections. We must appear to be acting in line with the Accords. You know this.”
I did. The sisters have remained neutral throughout history, never attempting to gain power, always content to advise the current rulers in exchange for their own autonomy.
I frown. “Why break the rules to offer me safety but not the children? I’m not one of you. There won’t be many others. There’s only one I know of. Timo, the Bryher’s boy.”
“We offer you safety because of your history with our sisters at the Lunar Enclave. And because you share our knowledge of the stars.”
I stand. “I consider the Sisters of Celestial Devotion my friends, High Priestess, but I won’t hide out here. As soon as the snatchers are gone, Gee and I will be leaving. She’s not well.” My voice tightens. “We need to head south where it’s warmer and I can get the supplies we need.”
Andromeda stands, too. She’s small, at least a head shorter than I am, but she looks formidable beneath her flowing, purple robes. She walks to a cabinet and pulls out a drawer. When she turns back, she holds out a gnarled root.
“Ginger,” she explains at my puzzled look. “For your grandmother. Brew it into a tea.”
She exhales as she sinks back into her chair. Before I can thank her, she continues.
“You may bring the boy here. And any other children with magic. But it must be tonight. No later.”
“Lucine said it would be a few days before the Taiga Pass clears. There’s no other road they can take.”
“That may be so, but the stars tell me to act with haste. They give no further details.”
“But High Priestess–”
“You have the day to warn the villagers, Cassia. Return this evening, and we will protect anyone with you. You have my word.”
I tuck the ginger into my bag. If it means Timo will be safe from the snatchers, I can put off leaving Henling for a few days. I’ll have to run all this past Gee first, though.
“Thank you, High Priestess.” I hoist the book onto my hip.
Andromeda regards the leather-bound tome with narrowed eyes. “Is that one of our prized ephemerides, Cassia?”
“Lucine said I could borrow it…” I throw a sidelong glance at the sister still hovering by the door. “I’m supposed to do a reading for Lady Bryher.”
“You don’t usually ask permission,” the High Priestess replies, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “You may bring it back when you return tonight.”
I flash what I hope is a charming smile in return, before giving her a curtsey and heading toward the door.
“As above, so below,” she calls after me – the sisters’ prayer, as well as a greeting and farewell.
I echo the words over my shoulder, whisper goodbye to Lucine as I pass, then bound down the steps two at a time, my dark hair and cloak streaming behind me.
Cold air gnaws at my face as I hurry across the bridge and onto the snow-covered track leading to Henling.
The snatchers are coming.
The warning pounds through my mind like a drumbeat with each crunch of my boot in the snow. It’s urgent, like the cold, north wind pushing at my back, sending my cloak flapping around my ankles.
The snatchers are coming.
Lucine’s and Andromeda’s uneasiness fades with each step, like the darkness at dawn.
* * *
After walking briskly for several minutes, I slow my pace and look back up at the enclave. The towering spruces lining the track are dusted with a layer of snow, their tips lit by the rising sun. The turrets peek above the tree line, brown against the peach skies of morning. It doesn’t take an alchemist to figure out why the Sisters of Celestial Devotion chose this place for one of their enclaves. Besides the natural beauty, the aurora dances across the sky in a veil of unearthly greens each night.
I turn back to the path, pulling my cloak tightly around me.
My mind keeps returning to my own star chart, and the prophecy it contained. I hadn’t let myself think about it in so long, but what if it’s coming true? Hugging the ephemeris to my chest, I cross my arms to stop the icy wind from sending a chill up the sleeves and shake my head. I can’t think about that right now, I have more imminent things to worry about, like the snatchers.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and my pulse quickens.
I stop in my tracks. Adrenaline courses through me, along with the certainty I’m being followed.
No, not followed.
Stalked.
Behind me, the long track is completely empty, my prints the only set in the snow. I strain my ears. The forest birds are quiet, the wind roaring through the trees sounding like the ocean.
“There’s no one here,” I whisper, despite my hammering heart. The news about the snatchers has made me jittery, that’s all. The book starts to slip through my sweating palms, so I grip it tighter. Beneath my breeches, my calves twitch.
I ignore every one of my instincts telling me to run. To scramble off of the path and out of sight. My eyes dart around. The feeling someone is close by and hunting me presses deep in my gut.
Suddenly, searing pain slams into my shoulder blade. The impact sends me flying into the snow, screaming. Agony lances through my body. It is so great, I can barely roll my head to one side to suck in a breath.
Someone shot me.
My heart thumps in my chest, then slows. Hot blood trickles down my neck and into the snow around me. The ground at eye level is too white, blinding.
The pain fades.
Is this it? My heart gives a thud, as if in answer.
Arms shaking, I press up to a sitting position. I reach over my shoulder and touch my back. No pain, no blood. The white snow surrounding me is disturbed, my book and bag sitting just out of reach, but there’s no blood.
But I felt it. The panic, the chase, the pain.
Is it possible I imagined the whole thing?
A branch snaps close by, footsteps crunching in the snow.
I try to stand, but my legs are too unsteady.
A tall, blond man bursts through the trees, a huge lynx loping along next to him. A slingshot is tucked into his belt, a brace of hares slung over his broad shoulder, their snowy bodies streaked with fresh blood.
Espen… Lord Bryher.
As he nears, panting slightly, I can feel his concern.
“You okay, Cassia?” He gives me a once-over, taking in my damp clothes, then the spread-eagled outline of my body in the snow. His fair complexion is flushed pink from the cold. He holds out a large hand toward me. “We heard a scream.”
Heat rises to my cheeks as he pulls me up. “That was me.” Beads of water drip from my lashes, and I gently probe my developing fat lip with my tongue.
“What happened?”
I swallow and open my mouth, then close it again. Good question. What had happened? I look at the hares over his shoulder. Was that what I’d experienced? The last moments of a hare he’d killed?
“I slipped on this damn ice and went down like a sack of potatoes.” I gesture to the ground with a laugh, hoping he doesn’t question me further. My cloak hangs damply as I brush off clods of snow.
Espen’s relief flows over his face. His pale blue eyes crinkle in the corners. “That was one hell of a scream.” He chuckles. “Thought you’d been shot.”
Yeah, so did I.
Espen’s lynx, Bram, tilts his head pointedly.
“You’re…hunting early.” I steer the conversation away from my little episode.
His face lights up. “New baby in the house. Thought I’d make the most of the crack-of-dawn wake-up call.” He bends down to pick up my satchel and the ephemeris, then hands them to me. “Up at the enclave again, were you?”
“Yes, I– Oh!” I grip his shoulder. The whole incident in the snow has addled my brain. These should have been my first words. After all, I’m standing in front of Timo’s father. “The snatchers are coming.”
His gilded brows raise at the news.
“They’re in Osele at the moment, but as soon as the Taiga Pass clears, they’ll come here. We need to get Timo out. The High Priestess said I can hide him at the enclave, but it has to be tonight.”
Despite being told Governance officials are on their way to kidnap his son, Espen looks surprisingly…unruffled. Bram rubs up against his legs like a house cat.
“I thought we had more time.” He scrubs a hand over his chin. “Never mind…” He looks at me, smiling. “It’s under control. He’ll be long gone by the time they arrive.”
“The sisters say it has to be tonight.”
“I’ll make sure he leaves after dinner. Don’t worry, Cassia.”
Espen shifts the brace on his shoulder slightly, and the hare carcasses swing in unison, a few more drops of blood falling to the ground. Bram looks up expectantly. Espen follows my gaze.
“By the way, I’m cooking tonight, so hope you like hare stew!” He waves the unfortunate creatures at me.
I manage a thin smile. “You still want us to come over for dinner?” It seems insignificant now we know the snatchers are on their way, but Espen’s easy confidence settles my nerves. His large hand claps me on the shoulder, and I stagger forward under the force.
“Of course. Come early. We’ll be done by seven bells. You’ll still make it up to the enclave by early evening. Kensa’s desperate to see the star chart you’ve done for the baby.”
The huge man strides off toward the pines on the other side of the path. “Oh, and we have a surprise for you, too!” he calls back over his shoulder.
Before I can ask what, he disappears into the trees. Bram still sits there, looking at me. When Espen whistles, the tufts of fur on the tips of the lynx’s ears twitch. He opens his jaw and drops a dead bird at my feet.
I grimace. “Great. Thanks, kitten.”
Bram dips his head, then stalks into the forest after his master. I watch his powerful, feline body disappear from sight.
I take a deep, steadying breath, then step over the dead bird with a shudder.
I haven’t even had my breakfast yet, but I’m certain of two things. One, I need to have a frank talk with Gee about my magic, and two, I will not be eating Espen’s hare stew tonight.