Heir of Skies

  Jupiter made a gruff grunting noise and changed the subject, “Shadows however, are not flesh and blood; not even when they manipulate our eyes. They are and will always remain part of the Darkness. Fighting them is less of a thrusting, side-stepping affair and more of a constant swinging of your sword. If you make contact with them, the only way to successfully destroy them is to slice them in half at the place where their life’s blood beats. I would call it a heart, but to attribute them with a feeling organ is to give them far too much credit.”

  I waited quietly for Jupiter to continue, but after he remained silent with his eyes locked on me I decided he was waiting for me to demonstrate what I hadn’t realized were instructions. “So, like this?” I asked while swinging my arms back and forth in front of me. I quit when I realized my motion seemed more like Zorro marking a tree with his initials than an Angel putting evil to death.

  “No, not like that,” Jupiter shook his head, clearly discouraged.

  “It’s more like this,” Seth offered. He had exchanged his broadsword for the cutlass he was apparently fond of and took a step forward into the circle of tousled snow we made together.

  Seth swung his arms around his body, both hands gripped firmly on the hilt of his curved sword, in effortless, beautiful motions that reminded me more of a dance than a fight. His arms swung overhead and behind him before he brought them powerfully but efficiently to his side and then back and then to his other side. He moved his feet in quick, easy steps, kicking up snow in short bursts of blizzard white-outs that he would step through thrusting his sword forward at the same time.

  I consciously closed my mouth, afraid that it hung open in awe of the intricacy of his skill. Seth never stopped moving his sword; it flew in every direction with precision and ease, he tossed it around behind him and over his head and back and forth catching it as easily as if it were a baton. His brow furrowed together, wrinkling in between his thoughtful eyebrows, his biceps stayed flexed and his feet danced around the snow as if his steps were well-rehearsed and choreographed. His eyes glanced up at me once, and they twinkled with excitement and concentration.

  “Oh, so that’s what you meant,” I remarked a little out of breath when Seth slowed down and ended his performance.

  “No, that’s what I said,” Jupiter corrected me, not even trying to mask the tone of irritation that accompanied his words.

  “Shadows can come at you from every way, and depending on the situation there can be hundreds of them attacking you all at the same time,” Seth explained more gently. “They do not have fear or restraint, so they will not stop. It is one constant action of attack. That is why your sword cannot stop moving either. Did you notice how I swung the sword in every direction, even behind me although I couldn’t see necessarily what I would be hitting?” I nodded my head. “That is because I don’t have time to find them, I just have to instinctively know that they are either there already or they will be shortly. The sword cannot stop moving. You must make every single swing a kill shot, or their attack on you will drive you mad or be the end of you,” Seth finished seriously and all I could do was swallow the lump in my throat and stare at Seth as he demonstrated the movements again.

  “Every shot has to be a kill shot?” I asked tentatively, wondering if it was possible to get that good. Ever.

  “Only if you want to live,” Jupiter chimed back in. I turned my attention to him and bit my bottom lip to keep from retaliating something equally as sarcastic. “The difference between Shadows and Fallen though, are that Shadows are not natural beings of creation. God did not create them; they are a byproduct of the evil the Darkness spreads across the galaxies. Therefore most thrusts of a sword will slide right through that vital organ, as long as you make contact. It is possible to swing too high or too low, but as long as you are swinging you are going to stand a good chance of staying alive.”

  “Well, there’s that,” I mumbled, readying herself to attempt the movements.

  I gripped my sword, the one that looked like a samurai sword…. a katana; I loved how it felt in my hands and the weight that was distributed over it. I began to swing it out in front of me, flicking my wrist around trying to mimic Seth’s movements. My movements felt awkward and ill-timed and when I attempted to swing the blade behind me things turned downright dangerous. More than once Jupiter and Seth had to jump out of the way or risk becoming a discarded Shadow among the remains of my pretend pile of enemies.

  Shadows were supposedly the easier of the two enemies, but I was pretty certain I stood a better chance against the Fallen. At least I didn’t have to worry about hundreds of them advancing on me at once from every direction.

  Or did I?

  I wasn’t actually sure. I hadn’t even heard of a Star getting into an on planet battle with the Third. But I supposed it was possible, if enough of them were organized against Earth.

  I stopped for a moment to realize there were enough of them to organize against Earth. Earth was it, the last planet with life, the last possible place for the Darkness to feed off of save for Heaven itself. So why wouldn’t they be organizing themselves to attack the planet?

  Starting with the one Star sworn to never leave, to protect its inhabitants until there was nothing left to protect.

  My pause caught the attention of my teacher and he stopped midsentence in instructing me to “try not to clomp around like a clown but learn to fight like a ballerina.” Moments ago I had wanted to make a joke about Seth being a ballerina, but now all I could think about was that I could be the last Star to take a stand against the entire army of Darkness.

  Or I would live a very, very, very short life and the Elders would send someone else after their careful mission failed.

  Either way, I needed to focus.

  I shook out my head and my eyes found clarity. I looked up at Jupiter who watched me for a second before returning to his lecture. Something passed between us, something deep and connecting. He understood a part of me I didn’t realize was so visible to others until that moment.

  Fear.

  I felt fear. And I knew I wasn’t supposed to.

  Yet it was as if Jupiter was defying all of the history between humans and Angels. There was something in the look he gave me that was proud, that reveled in my ability to be anxious for my future. It was a wise look. A determined look. And even if he never spoke to me politely again, after that moment of clarity, I felt like I understood him a little bit better too.

  “Try it again, Stella,” Jupiter commanded, completely back to his old feelings and older ways.

  And I was fine with that. I knew Jupiter was what I needed in a weapons trainer; he was what had to be put in my life. I didn’t have time to be coddled, or given time to feel sorry for myself. I had a planet to protect. It was time to buck up and face the music.

  I just hoped I had time to learn the music before I faced it head on.

  Chapter Seven

  I could feel all eyes on us as we walked into Mead High School on the first day back from winter break. Openly curious students watched us approach my locker with unmasked interest. I knew it wasn’t entirely for me, but the gathering crowd couldn’t keep their eyes off me and my new friend: Seth. They looked back and forth between us, two Angels appointed the duty of walking high school halls until graduation; at which time our fellow students would be off to college and we would battle the forces of Darkness. I sighed and wondered if they could see the other-worldliness transparent between us now that there were two of us.

  Seth seemed completely oblivious to the attention he drew, students and faculty alike assessed him as though he were a new piece of equipment added to our school’s inventory and not a new student with potential feelings. I wondered if he was nervous for his first day of school with humans. He didn’t seem to be, and on the surface had no trouble fitting in with his relaxed jeans and long-sleeved gray polo. The ends of his hair curled in golden tendrils and he walked with his head held high and beaming with confidence.
r />   I twirled the end of a strand of hair around my finger, knowing there would be backlash for my association with the gorgeous new kid in school, starting with the drooling female population. I didn’t know if females school-wide would hate me for our bizarre relationship or stalk me…. but I knew without a doubt Seth would bring me all kinds of trouble.

  “Thanks again for coming back to pick me up this morning,” Seth broke my thought train as I unloaded my backpack into my locker. I had to keep shoving things back in it; I was suddenly super embarrassed with Seth watching the tragic disorganization that followed me everywhere.

  “Really, it’s Tristan you should be thanking, he’s the one who drove,” I replied, wondering if Seth was more nervous than he let on, since this was the fourth time he thanked me for a ride. “I won’t have basketball practice every morning, but at least this next week since coach wants us ready for our upcoming games. She thinks we get lazy over winter break. But we’ll probably have to carpool with Seth for a while, until my dad decides what to do about my car situation.”

  “Hopefully, I’ll get my own car too, soon,” Seth leaned back against the adjoining lockers and looked out into the sea of students who still seemed to be watching him openly.

  “Hopefully Jupiter is a little more charitable than my father,” I grumbled. The Jeep had been officially totaled, after my dad assured me Seth couldn’t keep holding the door on with his super strength while driving through town. A further discussion of not needing the door really at all had also been negated. But with the death of the Jeep, I knew it would be a long time before I could reinstate my vehicular freedom. Dad wasn’t known for buying things…. like anything. He usually preferred to make it.

  “Where we were before, I didn’t need a car, there was plenty of public transportation to get around on. But we also lived in a city…. like a real, populated city,” Seth explained further and I turned to ask him about what Boston was like, before a bouncing brunette with stylish straight bangs, and extra-large turquoise feather earrings interrupted our conversation.

  “Excuse me,” she sung, waiting for Seth to move out of her way. She had a little more tact than the rest of the student body in that she didn’t stare at Seth as though he were an animal caged in a zoo, but her lightly freckled nose crinkled in curiosity and her hazel eyes brightened with impatience.

  “Oh, sorry,” Seth apologized, watching the girls ponytail bob from side to side as she waited.

  “Hi, Pi,” I turned toward my female best friend and smiled at her. I knew Piper would have a million questions for me, starting with Seth and ending with where was Tristan, but I also trusted her not to blurt them out immediately.

  “Hey, Stel…..” she prompted, waiting for an introduction. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Piper Cassidy this is Seth…. Seth…..” I froze realizing I didn’t know the last name Seth went by or even if he had a last name. I panicked for a second while trying to rack my brain for the information I wasn’t sure if I had ever been given.

  “Seth Smith,” Seth finished, flashing his charming smile at my bemused best friend.

  “Seth Smith,” I echoed with confidence, biting back a laugh at the simplicity of his “taken” last name. “He’s an old friend of the family. He and his…. grandpa just moved here. Seth, this is my best friend, Piper.”

  “Nice to meet you Piper,” Seth extended his hand so Piper could shake it. “Stella you have a lot of best friends,” he commented curiously.

  “Yes, she does,” Piper complained. “But none of us hold a candle to Tristan.” Piper said Tristan’s name as if it were a communicable disease and I watched Seth’s eyes light up in appreciation. It was obvious he immediately liked Piper. Great… they could make an “I hate Tristan club.”

  “That’s not true at all! You and Tristan hold equal candles.” I defended myself to Piper, closing my locker with extra emphasis. “And I only have two best friends. I like to keep things fair and honest, gender speaking, so I have one of each,” I smiled at Piper, knowing this would get on her nerves.

  “Oh, is that why you keep Tristan around? You’re an equal opportunity employer?” Piper pressed, rolling her eyes.

  “Exactly,” I laughed. “Seriously though, Piper’s always been jealous of Tristan because he was my best friend first.” I explained in good humor to Seth, but inwardly cringed. The rivalry between Piper and Tristan was nearly as old as we were and something I tried to balance daily.

  “I’ve never been jealous!” Piper squealed, lifting a wrist covered in silver bangle bracelets in defense. “It’s not even a fair competition. You’ve known Tristan since you were in diapers. I had to wait all the way until kindergarten before I could step in and by that time he had wormed his way deep inside your generous little heart and refused to leave.” Piper was a mix of trendy bohemian and small town politics. I knew my friend would love to dress in peasant skirts and bold prints all the time, but she kept things conservative to balance her farmer heritage and sport’s star status. Today she wore a tight-fitting vintage Mead High School volleyball t-shirt that was probably her mother’s, a short, frayed denim mini skirt and thick black tights. The outfit itself was something any of the girls at school would wear, but no one else would pair it with shin-high tan furry boots, that looked like the needed to be brushed on a daily basis, two wrists full of sparkly silver bangles, bright feather earrings and a hoop nose ring. I felt boring standing next to her in black leggings and a turquoise sweater dress. I tried to imagine my simple grey Uggs with fur on them, but decided to let her have the glory of wearing small animals on her feet.

  “Poor Piper,” I sympathized, hugging my books to my chest and gave her a sympathetic smile.

  When all I got in return was an irritated eye roll, I put my arm around my friend’s shoulders that stood almost exactly the same height as mine. Piper laid her head down on me and stuck out her full bottom lip in a pretend pout. Seth laughed with us; and I could tell by the way he looked back and forth between us that he was glad my friendship circle extended beyond Tristan. Boys.

  “Hey,” Tristan joined us, flanked by his closest guy friends and rival athletic studs. I leaped from Piper’s side straight into Tristan’s arms, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. He hugged me closely to him, whispering in my ear. “Hey, Stel.” His deep voice rumbled against my hot skin and I nuzzled closer, relishing the feel and smell of him.

  I waited for three more seconds before stepping back and nodding to Tristan’s male best friends. Together the three boys dominated all sports and carried the most votes in popularity. But Tristan was king jock among them, he walked the halls with a confidence and carelessness that only those truly at ease could carry.

  “Well, speak of the devil,” Piper mumbled, punching me in the shoulder and turning back to her locker. “I don’t get greetings like that.” I laughed, knowing she would kill me if I hugged her like that and potentially messed up her hair.

  “Seth, this is Rigley Merrit,” I introduced Seth to the boy on Tristan’s right; he had deep, reddish brown hair that curled wildly at an unkempt length. His face was dusted in matching freckles and his boxer’s nose crooked to one side. He was an athlete, like Tristan, with high school boy biceps and a thick neck. But his freckles and pale green eyes kept a boyish look about him that I knew most girls could not say no to. He knew it too. “And this is Lincoln Chase,” I continued, introducing Seth to the other boy who had perfectly clear skin that grew lightly pink with any kind of attention. Lincoln was shorter than Tristan and Rigley by a few inches, but still an obvious athlete. His pale blonde hair was stick straight and hung across his eyes in a way that amplified his shy and reserved look. And as dangerous as Rigley could be, Lincoln was quiet and careful. “Guys, this is Seth, he just moved here,” I finished the introductions and waited for them to all acknowledge each other in turn.

  “Are you headed to Government?” Tristan asked when not much had been made out of the consecutive handshakes.


  “In a minute, I’m going to help Seth find the office first,” I explained.

  “Oh,” Tristan said surprised. He rubbed his hand over his shaved head and looked down the hallway a little lost.

  “Save us a seat?” I prompted, knowing I was interrupting our daily routine. Tristan was still adjusting to Seth’s sudden appearance in my life, but I didn’t feel bad about making him walk to class on his own. It was just one class.

  “Sure,” Tristan replied, not at all wanting to save us both a seat.

  “Tristan and Stella aren’t walking to class together?” Piper turned from her locker, dramatically pretending to be appalled with the situation. “What is happening to the world?” she cried out, holding her Government books up toward the ceiling and shaking them with mock outrage.

  “Piper, I missed you over winter break, how was Breckinridge?” Tristan goaded Piper with heavy tones of sarcasm. Deep down they loved each other…. or at least that’s what I promised myself when she turned snarky and he turned pretend polite.

  “It made me slow and lazy,” she admitted moodily, thinking about practice a half hour ago and repeating her coaches exact words.

  “You’ll catch up,” Tristan promised encouragingly but Piper only rolled her eyes and waved at us before marching off for class. There was nothing she hated more than when Tristan played nice. She refused to like him and preferred him to make it easy for her to hate him.

  “See you guys later,” I waved at everyone too, taking an amused Seth by the shirt sleeve and dragging him toward the school office.

  “Your best friends hate each other,” Seth commented when we had turned the corner, clearly enjoying the situation.

  “They don’t hate each other,” I tried to plead a useless case I had been fighting since grade school. “They just don’t always see eye to eye.”