The third bell after midnight had not yet finished tolling when Kael reached the laundry yard.

  Moonlight fell in thin blades through the high slats, painting the wet flagstones silver and black. Elowen was already there, rag doll dangling from one hand. Rhen stood behind her, hood low. The moment he saw Kael he pushed the child forward.

  “Go,” he breathed. “East corridor alarm will trip in ninety breaths. That’s all I can give you.”

  Kael dropped to one knee. Elowen crashed into his arms hard enough to rattle teeth. He felt her trembling through the thin nightdress.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered against his neck.

  “Me too,” he said, honest for once. “But we’re leaving. Right now.”

  Rhen was already gone, a shadow swallowed by deeper shadows.

  Kael took Elowen’s hand and ran.

  They slipped through the scullery arch, past the dying kitchen fires, down the narrow stair that stank of lye and steam. The aqueduct tunnel mouth waited beneath the laundry: a rusted iron grate hidden behind a stack of broken wash-tubs. Kael’s fingers found the moss-slick keyhole by touch alone. The frozen-starlight key slid home with a sound like a blade entering ice.

  A soft click.

  The grate swung inward without a creak.

  Cold, dripping dark opened before them. Kael stepped through first, pulling Elowen after. The door closed itself behind them with the finality of a tomb sealing.

  For one heartbeat there was only the sound of water dripping and their own frightened breathing.

  Then a voice drifted out of the blackness ahead, calm and terrible.

  “Aur Calaestar. Step forward and kneel.”

  A hand-sized orb of blood-red light bloomed in the tunnel, revealing the speaker.

  Black cloak motionless despite the wet wind that came from nowhere. Inner lining arterial red. Five silver links across the chest, each link thick as a child’s finger. A Reaper Arbiter of the highest circle.

  He stood three metres away, filling the tunnel like a wall.

  Kael shoved Elowen behind him, back pressed to the rough stone. “Stay there. Eyes closed.”

  The Arbiter tilted his hooded head. “The girl too. Both lights are forfeit.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  From the wide sleeve of the cloak poured a living chain of starlight. It moved like a serpent with its own will, tasting the air.

  It struck faster than a heartbeat.

  The starlight chain lashed out in a blazing arc. Kael dropped flat; the links detonated against the wall where his head had been, blasting stone into glowing gravel and filling the tunnel with white fire. Water flashed to instant steam.

  Kael rolled and charged inside the arc, shoulder-slammed the Arbiter's chest. The Arbiter staggered one step. Kael drove two short punches into the ribs (felt like striking frozen marble) and felt something crack anyway.

  The Arbiter’s backhand exploded across Kael’s cheek. He flew, crashed into the wall, then came up coughing blood.

  Elowen cried out.

  The starlight chain reared above her like a cobra.

  Kael got flashbacks of his parents and roared. Blue-white light tore from his skin, lighting the tunnel like a second dawn. He lunged, caught the blazing chain with both bare hands. It seared straight through flesh to bone, but he yanked with everything he had.

  The Arbiter lurched forward. Kael kneed the hooded face (hard). The hood flew back. Pale skin, silver eyes wide with shock.

  The Arbiter’s left palm snapped toward Kael’s heart, fingers glowing with harvest-light.

  Kael twisted. The hand grazed his ribs; a ribbon of his own blue-white starlight ripped free with a sound like tearing silk. Pain detonated.

  He screamed, and the scream became a lance. Both palms forward. A spear of roaring blue-white light punched through the air. The Reaper slid sideways (impossibly fast); the beam carved a molten trench in the wall and turned the water to screaming steam.

  The starlight chain whipped low, trying to snare Kael’s ankles. Kael jumped, landed on the glowing links, pinned them. He snatched a chunk of broken stone and smashed it down on the Arbiter (once, twice). The chain flickered, dimmed, but did not break).

  The Arbiter hissed and lunged. They grappled chest-to-chest in the boiling water, slipping, punching, kneeing. Blood spattered the walls.

  Kael headbutted. The Reaper elbowed. Stars burst behind Kael’s eyes. They broke apart, breathing heavily. Kael planted his feet, water swirling, and opened the gate all the way. A second beam (wide as a ray of sun, blinding, deafening) filled the tunnel wall to wall.

  The Arbiter threw up both arms. The starlight chain rose like a shield. The blue-white beam smashed into it, shattered the shield into a thousand dying sparks, and took the Reaper full in the chest. He flew backward, cloak shredding, red lining scorched black, body slamming the stone fifteen meters down. He hit, bounced, rolled. The starlight chain lay scattered across the water in broken, flickering pieces.

  Kael dropped to one knee, gasping, light guttering across his skin. Elowen ran to him, grabbed his burned hands.

  Far down the tunnel the Arbiter rose, one arm hanging useless, blood pouring from his ruined face, but the silver eyes still blazed.

  He smiled through red teeth.

  “The Five see you now, god-killer.”

  His good hand slammed the wall. A hidden ward crystal shattered. Every ward on the red cliffs ignited arterial red. Alarm horns wailed across the valley (deep, grinding, world-ending).

  Kael scooped Elowen into his arms and ran.

  The tunnel stretched ahead, black and dripping and endless. Behind them the Arbiters voice chased them, ragged but triumphant:

  “Run, little star. The sky's are are watching”

  They burst out the far end into cold night air and wild forest. Branches whipped their faces. The bells of Starhaven screamed behind them until the valley itself sounded like it was tearing apart.

  Kael did not look back.

  He clutched his sister tight and vanished into the trees, two small silhouettes swallowed by the dark.

  Behind them, for the first time in four centuries, a Reaper Arbiter knelt bleeding in the dirt and whispered a name the Five Gods had forbidden anyone to speak.

  Aur Calaestar.

  The last of the line was no longer hiding.