Chapter thirteen

Phoebe laid in bed, listening to the rain as it splattered against her window. In the wake of the Starborn elder's death, the mood around Ardent had turned dark and gloomy, so much so that even the weather seemed to be in mourning. As she watched the rain fall from the swollen grey sky, Phoebe thought about Rue and wondered what she was doing at the moment, and how she was holding up after the loss of her grandfather. The last time they'd seen each other was two days ago, when Phoebe raced back to Connor's cottage and burst through the door to deliver the terrible news. She had interrupted the couple mid-make out, tangled up in one another on Connor's tiny bed. They gasped, then glared daggers until they saw the panicked look on Phoebe's face.

"Pheebes, what's wrong?" Connor had asked, his face draining of color as he no doubt considered the many awful possible answers to his question.

"It's the elder," Phoebe said, breathless. Rue didn't need to hear another word. She scrambled out from under her lover and off the bed.

"I'm sorry," she said after pressing one last desperate kiss to Connor's mouth. "I'll come back to you as soon as I can." She paused at the door for only a fraction of a second, just long enough to lay her hand gratefully against Phoebe's cheek, before dashing down the path and disappearing into the trees.

It took a moment for Phoebe to realize that Connor had joined her at the door. When she did, she turned to him, wide-eyed and stunned. "Connor, the elder is dead. What does that mean?"

Her cousin shrugged helplessly, staring down the path as if he could somehow will Rue to return to him if he just believed hard enough. "I have no idea."

Phoebe had left him that day with a promise to return with news as soon as she could. But when she returned to the druids' camp, she was met by her father, who took her by the shoulders and steered her back toward home.

"Give them space, Phoebe," he said to her. "They are grieving a terrible loss."

The rain came that evening, rolling in on waves of thunder that shook the walls of Phoebe's house.

"He was so frail," Phoebe's mother said over their dinner of parsnip and rabbit stew. She and Phoebe's father had been talking about the elder while Phoebe stirred her spoon around her bowl, lost in her own thoughts. "At least he was able to pass in the comfort of his bed instead of on the back of a horse, I suppose."

Phoebe's father nodded as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "As soon as the storm passes, we'll offer to help build the pyre."

"Do you think they'll accept?" asked his wife, sounding both curious and hopeful at the same time.

"It's hard to say," he answered. "I realize they may want to perform the ascension in private, but surely they would understand that we want to pay our respects as well."

While her mother said something about what an incredible honor it would be to participate in the funeral of a Starborn elder, Phoebe's mind wandered back to the pyre. She hadn't experienced a lot of death in her sixteen years. The only person to die in her family so far was her paternal grandfather, and he had passed before she was born. In fact, it had been nearly five years since Ardent last lost one of its own. Though the commune was small, Phoebe hadn't known the man all that well. Still, the memory of his ascension was seared into her mind. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the heat of his funeral pyre warming her cheeks as it burned. She and their community had stood vigil, watching as the flames ate away at the man's corpse, turning his flesh and bones to ash and smoke that drifted upward into the night sky, bringing him as close to the Stars in death as he'd hoped to be — as they all hoped to be — in life. Phoebe knew it was supposed to be beautiful, but the thought of being burned, even as a corpse, made her feel queasy.

She thought about the elder. How often had he imagined his own ascension, especially in those final days of his long life, when he had to know that the end was drawing near? Phoebe imagined he was too faithful to be unnerved by the idea of his soft bits melting in the unfathomable heat of the pyre as it burning beneath him. He probably looked forward to rejoining his ancestors; had time to make peace with it all. Still, Phoebe couldn't help but wonder if the Stars had warned him that this day was coming — if his impending demise was part of the reason he insisted on changing course for Ardent in the first place.

Another crack of thunder boomed overhead, but it was her mother's voice that coaxed Phoebe back to the dinner table.

"Is everything okay, Phoebe? You've barely touched your dinner."

Phoebe paused in the middle of her stirring and looked up. Her parents gazed back at her expectantly.

"I was just wondering why the Stars told the elder to come here," she said, speaking as the thought came to her without considering what she was saying first. "Rue said they told him to deliver a message to us, but why would they do that if they knew he was going to die before he got the chance? I mean, it's all in the Plan, right? It doesn't make—"

She didn't see her father move — she only felt the sharp sting of his palm as it connected with her face. The sound of the slap seemed impossibly loud to Phoebe, even louder than the clatter of her spoon against the table when it fell from her hand.

"Don't you ever question the Stars again," her father bellowed, his face red with rage. "You know that the Plan is infallible — who are you to question it?"

"I— I wasn't—" Phoebe spluttered. She cupped her cheek with her hand, feeling the heat rising off her skin from where he had struck her. "I just want to understand—"

Her father got to his feet so that he towered over her. "If you are worthy of understanding, the Stars will let you know. But I will not abide by my own daughter expressing doubt — not of the Star and not of the Plan. Do you understand?"

Cowering, Phoebe glanced across the table to her mother, who avoided her pleading gaze by staring mutely down into her half-eaten stew. Realizing that no one would be coming to her defense, Phoebe nodded. "Yes, I understand. I'm sorry."

"If it wasn't for the rain I would send you to the fields," her father spat in disgust. "Get out of my sight. I can't stand to look at you right now."

Phoebe fled to her room. She briefly considered crawling out the window to seek refuge with Connor, but she thought better of it. Instead, she burrowed beneath the covers and stayed there, silent and unmoving, wishing she would simply disappear.

The rain continued to fall for two straight days, and during that time Phoebe barely left her room. It felt as if the entire commune had fallen under a spell that rendered everyone quiet and useless. The druids' encampment was eerily still. The music and merriment of their arrival was replaced by the sound of rain pattering off the walls of their tents, like thousands of tiny hands beating on equally tiny drums. Phoebe waited at her window, hoping to spot Rue through the trees on her way to collect her, but Rue never came.

As she lay there, watching the sky grow darker, Phoebe thought about Connor, alone and waiting in his cottage. More than once over those dreary couple of days she had considered making the soggy trek out to see him. But she was wary of setting her father off again. And for what? It wasn't like she had any news to share.

That was, until she awoke on the morning of the third day to sunlight on her face. Phoebe blinked, blinded and confused, until she realized that it had finally stopped raining. She sat up, wondering what time it was when she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in," she called out, her voice cracking from days of unuse. The door swung open and Phoebe shrank reflexively when she saw her father standing at the threshold.

"The Starborn have accepted our offer to help with the elder's ascension," he announced as if he hadn't just spent the last couple of days ignoring her completely. "Get dressed and head to the encampment. You are to assist them with whatever they need, understood?"

"Yes, Dad," Phoebe answered dutifully. He left without so much as a sniff of acknowledgement. The moment the door closed behind him, Phoebe was out of bed and squirming into her clothes. She couldn't get out of the house fast enough.

After racing across the commune grounds, Phoebe arrived at Rue's family tent out of breath and splattered with the mud that had splashed up from the sodden ground with every step. Rue must have heard her coming, because she poked her head out the entrance flaps and greeted Phoebe with a sad little smile.

"I'm so sorry, Rue," Phoebe said, pulling her friend into a tight embrace. "How are you doing?"

Rue shrugged. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her usually buoyant hair hung limply down her shoulders. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. We knew this was coming, but that doesn't make it any easier."

Phoebe nodded as if she understood. "Of course. How can I help? Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you right now?"

"Actually..." Rue glanced around. She lowered her voice. "Can you find Connor and let him know that I'll come find him after the funeral tonight? I haven't been able to get away and I feel terrible about abandoning him."

"You didn't abandon him," Phoebe said with a shake of her head. "And he's gonna understand that you're dealing with something important right now." We both do, she thought.

"I know, but I still feel bad." Rue fidgeted with her hair. "We don't get enough time together as it is."

Despite not wanting to incur more of her father's wrath, it dawned on Phoebe that he had given her a loophole. After all, he was the one who told her that she was to do whatever the druids asked her to. So, she gave Rue another hug. "Don't worry. I'll go talk to him and then I'll come right back."

Phoebe dashed back through the woods, splashing and sliding as she went. She was grateful to have a job to do. The task, small though it was, gave her something to focus on. As long as she was moving, as long as she had a purpose, she felt useful. After days of feeling like a disappointment, it was a welcome change of pace.

Connor was already outside when she arrived at his cottage, chopping wood with the ease of a man slicing through butter for his morning toast. His expression melted with relief when he spotted her and he tossed his axe aside. "Finally! I haven't seen anyone since you and Rue left. What's going on?"

"Sorry," Phoebe gasped between panted breaths. In the privacy of her mind, she admonished herself for being so out of shape. "We were waiting out the rain."

"Fair enough," Connor said, albeit a bit begrudgingly. "Have you seen Rue yet? How's she doing?"

The memory of Rue, with her sad eyes and unkempt hair, flashed through Phoebe's mind. She didn't want to lie to Connor, but she didn't want to make him worry either. "She's holding up. She wanted me to tell you that she'll come find you after her grandad's ascension."

This made Connor straighten up. "When is it happening? Today?"

"Probably, why?"

Connor raked his fingers back through his golden hair. "I should go. I should be there for her."

"Are you nuts?" Phoebe looked her cousin over as if she didn't recognize him at all. "What if my dad sees you?"

"Then I'll deal with it," Connor said. "This is important."

Phoebe touched her cheek, remembering her father's hand, his anger. Though the sting was gone, the hurt remained. "I don't think it's a good idea. Dad's on edge — even more so than usual. Why push your luck? Rue will understand, I promise."

"Yeah, but—"

"Connor, no." Perhaps it came out louder than Phoebe meant it to, or maybe she just sounded as desperate as she felt. Either way, Connor flinched back from her, alarmed. "Let's just get through this, okay?"

A tense silence settled between them. They stared one another down, each waiting for the other to back down. Unfortunately for Connor, Phoebe was the stubborn one in the family.

"Fine," he relented at last.

Phoebe exhaled. "Good. Well, now that that's settled, I should get back."

"Sure."

"Promise me you won't don't do anything stupid, okay?"

Connor didn't answer her. He turned away and picked up the axe he had abandoned earlier.

"Okay?" Phoebe repeated, a little louder this time.

"I heard you!" Connor called back over his shoulder with a casual wave of his hand. "And tell Rue that I'll see her later."

Grumbling under her breath, Phoebe set off once again toward the encampment. She was about halfway there when a thought crossed her mind that made her stop in her tracks.

"That asshole didn't promise!" she exclaimed aloud.

Apparently, she wasn't the only stubborn one in the family after all.