When Stars Come Out (When Stars Come Out 1)

There is a strange, tense silence after that comment. I can practically hear Roth tallying his supporters.

Charon has never been hands on. He doesn’t see us as his children or anything like that. We were created for a simple purpose—to protect human souls, enforce the rule of the Order over death-speakers, and to protect the Eurydice. When we fail him, we are punished. Many believe that’s what the last seventy years have been, a punishment for our failure to protect the Eurydice in her last life when she was murdered. It was after her death that the Adamantine Gates were dissolved, effectively cutting us off from Spirit.

“I’m assuming this is why you’ve assembled an army of Shadow Knights,” Elite Abrams’ eyes cut to us, lingering longer on me than anyone else. I have a feeling it’s from the lack of threading on my uniform.

“I would hardly call them an army,” Roth argues.

“Really? Then what do you call several trained soldiers? Sending armed Valryn after the Eurydice will only frighten her away from us. She may not even know what she is—”

“Then what do you expect us to do? Reason with her?” Roth makes the suggestion in jest, even laughing, but Elite Abrams isn’t joking.

“That’s precisely what I expect. The Eurydice has not incarnated in seventy years due to her murder in her last life. If she is hurt again in this incarnation, we might never get her back.”

If she’s back now, we’re lucky. It was Charon who saved her soul in her last life—he had opened his own portal into the land of the living. Sometimes I think she might have come back sooner had the Order found her murderer.

“So the Order approves of the search then?” In that moment, Roth reminds me of a child, asking to drive his father’s car—not the soon-to-be head of the Order. It makes me chuckle, and I have to shut my mouth quick after a glare from Abrams and my father.

”Not with your army,” Abrams says, and stands. “Assemble a team—a few Knights, that’s it. Choose wisely.”

Elite Abrams leaves and is followed by several Elites. Some linger—including Ezekiel—and I know it’s because they support Roth’s aggressive search for the Eurydice and her prosecution for Chase’s death. Roth’s dark gaze shifts to the Knights around the room. He calls out a few names—Pia, Naava, Idris—all Trackers, emerald thread embroiders the front of their uniforms and circles the length of their arms. They step forward and salute, accepting their task.

Finally, my father’s voice rings out. “Shadow Knights, you are dismissed.”

I start to leave. “Shadow Knight Savior,” Roth says. “Stay.”

My first thought is that Roth needs me to drive him to the closest ice cream shop, but a look at my father makes me think otherwise. My heart pounds—surely Roth isn’t appointing me to search for the Eurydice, too? Hadn’t he insulted my training status on the

way here?

“Elite Cain tells me you have aspirations of becoming a Commander.”

This is not new information to Roth. It’s one reason he gives me such a hard time.

”I would see the appointment as an honor, Successor,” I say, working hard to control my voice and move my jaw. Roth has that stupid glimmer in his eyes that tells me he knows I’m struggling and he’s amused.

“Then find the Eurydice for me.”

“Excuse me, Successor, but...I don’t want to be granted a title without having earned it.”

“If you find the Eurydice, then you have earned it, Tracker.” Roth turns to Elite Cain.

“See that Shadow Knight Savior receives his new uniform promptly...and ensure my team has all the tools required to find the Eurydice. Soon.”

And just like that, I’m ranked as a Shadow Knight. So, why don’t I feel better? I always imagined this moment would feel better. It would feel...earned. Leave it to Roth to rob me of an experience. Why does he want the Eurydice anyway? He’s not the kind to concern himself with Influence’s hold over the world unless it affects him.

No, there has to be another reason.

Those unanswered questions gather in my chest like clouds on the horizon.

A storm is brewing.

A battle.

The worst part? I’m not sure whose side I’m on.

CHAPTER TWELVE – ANORA & INFLUENCE

The fight song begins and players burst through the banner. I search for Shy, but don’t see him. I’m not the only one: several players and coaches turn to look behind them, as if hoping he will appear at any moment. Even Lily seems concerned, brows knitted together in a tight line.