Soul of Stars

Ashley Poston

Contents (87)

Dedication

TO ALL OF THE FRIENDS I’VE FOUND

ALONG THE WAY,

AND ALL THE ONES LEFT TO FIND.

Epigraph

In a shrine of ancients past

When the dark has stolen the throne,

The Goddess holds the end of times

And there she waits alone.

And when she fails its heart will beat

And consume the kingdom bright,

For no soul lives to tell the tale

Of a star to shine the light.

—“The Goddess’s Legacy,”

The Cantos of Light

Map

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Epigraph

Map

I: Starship

Mellifare

Ana

Robb

Ana

Jax

Emperor

Robb

Ana

Robb

Ana

Jax

Ana

Robb

Jax

II: Starless

Emperor

Robb

Ana

Emperor

Robb

Jax

Emperor

Ana

Robb

Jax

Ana

Robb

Emperor

III: Starlit

Ana

Emperor

Jax

Ana

Emperor

Ana

Jax

Emperor

IV: Starcrossed

Ana

Jax

Robb

Ana

Robb

Ana

Robb

Jax

V: Stardust

Ana

Robb

Jax

Ana

Jax

Ana

Robb

Ana

Jax

Ana

Robb

Ana

Robb

Jax

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Books by Ashley Poston

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Copyright

About the Publisher

I

Starship

Mellifare

The tomb could only be opened with an iron key.

Mellifare studied the intricate lock, tracing the curving metal rods and ancient cogs. From the carvings of the cycles of the moon above the door to the scriptures engraved in the lock itself, she was certain this was the entrance to not only a tomb, but the Goddess’s tomb—the one she had been searching for.

They were deep underneath the shrine in the Iron Palace, where the nobility buried their important dead in stone coffins. She savored the musty, forgotten smell of this death-place for a quiet moment. She liked things better when they were dead. On the other side of this door was her heart, just as Father had said. He lay dead in one of the crypts in this shrine, along with the Grand Duchess, all of them freshly buried and sealed away like books in a library. The abbesses who had survived the assassination attempt on the Empress a few days ago led the mourning prayers in the shrine proper, although there was no one left to sing with them.

Her optics flickered. She swayed, suddenly, but caught herself on the side of the wall to keep herself upright. A warning flared in the back of her head. She was running low on energy.

The last few days had been especially taxing. The assassination, the fight after, letting the Empress escape—but what took the most of her power was—

“Sister.”

Him.

The Empress had called him Di, but she had stolen that name away when she shredded his memories and installed him on the throne. He still wore his coronation cloak, as black as midnight, and his red hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, clasped together with a golden toggle. With delicate silver stitches, he had sewn up that insufferable wound the Empress had given him on his left cheek.