His hair was shorn very short, shorter than Jolakaia and the other servants of the temple. What little ghostly buzz of hair was left told me the colour was pure white. His brows had hair, like Suvi’s, but were almost invisible. With thin lips and a nose that did nothing special to draw attention, all there was to look at on his emotionless face was the black slashes along his cheekbones and the haunting emptiness of those dark eyes.

He did not look angry and made no show of violence, but somehow his flat stare across the courtyard was more disconcerting than if he’d come through the sky door roaring and raging. I became aware of how tightly coiled every muscle in my body was, my breath rushing in and out as he appeared not to breathe at all.

And then he started to walk. It took me a moment longer than it should have to even realize that he’d begun to move. The first thing I noticed was the way the Mother’s Claws had parted for him, and then the way he seemed to be larger, closer than before. I jerked and snorted when I finally clued in that he was striding – rather, more like gliding – on long, lean legs towards me.

Now that the Mother’s Claws had shifted, I could see the rest of him. Plain dark trousers, heavy-looking black boots (that somehow made not even the slightest whisper of sound on the stone) and a tattered-looking dark vest made up his form of dress. His starmap glowed moon-white on skin that was nearly as pale. The black, shiny protrusions were not just there on his cheekbones. Hard plates of it were visible beneath his vest at his shoulders, and along the lengths of his arms – one long spear of black from shoulder to elbow, then another from elbow to wrist. Even his knuckles had hard points of black poking out of white joints.

His wings were large, but starkly skeletal. A frame of black bone supporting the stretch of very thin, translucent flesh. It was only the spread of his glowing starmap across his wings that made the skin between bones visible at all, only the pulsing light that showed that these were real wings, living wings, not simply the wasted branches of bone.

Can a stone sky god die and yet keep walking?

He came to a stop before me. Those lifeless eyes gave me the impression that he was searching my face even though his gaze did not move at all. I kept my wings extended, shielding Suvi from view as she remained still at my back, like a warm, Suvi-shaped stone.

“Skallagrim,” he said. His voice was like wind scraping over desolate plains. “I see you’ve found her.”

“Found...”

And suddenly I’m not with Aeshyr but with another white-haired male. We’re standing together in the river, and I know he loves me but he’s worried for me, his familiar face grim.

“You know what will happen,” he says, and it feels like an omen. “You know what will happen if you do not find her.”

The collision of the memory with the present shook me, and I grunted with the force it took to remain here, remain standing, remain in Suvi’s service. Aeshyr was somehow already gone, moving past me into the temple, and in a delayed, drunken movement, I turned to face him so that Suvi remained hidden. How a male who looked like barely more than a strung-together set of bones in boots could move that quickly defied all reason.

“He has come to trade. Nothing more,” Jolakaia said, much as she had before.

But Jolakaia was wrong. This time, he would not merely trade and disappear.

This time he’d have questions to answer.

He knew me on sight. He knew my name.

I see you’ve found her.

Who else could he mean but my little star? He knew about Suvi without even seeing her at my back. How? In the blasted expanse of the stone skies, how?

I would speak with him. He had at least some answers for me, I was certain. Part of me wanted to chase him down right now, pin him to the stone, take that strange dead-eyed face between my claws and order him to speak.

But my first priority was Suvi. Seeing her safe mattered more than anything else. As Aeshyr disappeared into an unknown part of the temple, I took Suvi back to her room.

And then, despite her confused protestations and the unease unfurling in my guts at the thought of even momentary separation, I left her there.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Skallagrim

It did not take too long to find Aeshyr. Or, rather, it did not take too long for him to finish up his business inside the temple and come through the hallways to leave again. If I’d had to actually search him out, it would have been much longer. But as it was, while I stalked down unfamiliar hallways in the temple, he came as if to meet me, a wooden chest balanced on one black-plated shoulder. His limbs were deceiving in their length and leanness – but like this, one arm up and holding the chest – the hard lines of corded muscle were obvious in the golden light of the temple.

“Aeshyr! Halt. I have questions for you.”

The blasted man did not halt. But he did make a raspy sound of acknowledgement, as if inviting me to ask my questions while we walked. I bristled, then forced down the irritation, falling into step beside him. I sensed that as soon as we reached the courtyard he’d be in a hurry to leave, so I wasted no time asking the question that burned at the forefront of my mind.

“How did you know about Suvi?”

“I don’t know what a Suvi is.”

I held the tips of my tongue in check and fought the urge to cuff him on the back of his shaved head.

“You know whom I speak of. When you first saw me you said, ‘I see that you have found her.’ How did you know I’d found Suvi?”

“Ah.” That actually did make him halt. He watched me with those lifeless eyes. “You truly do not know what she is to you? How she’s done what she’s done?”

Every other thing that came out of Aeshyr’s mouth seemed designed to give offense. This time, I tensed against the idea that he could know more of Suvi than I did, but the gut-deep curiosity was stronger than any anger I felt. As if starving and standing before a plate of food proffered by this strange stone sky god, I found myself saying, “Please.” A pause. “She’s my...”

My little star my human my friend my captive my sacred hope my only salvation my female, mine mine mine...

The words remained inside me. Out loud, I just said, “Tell me what you know.”

I wondered if Aeshyr’s face was capable of any emotion at all. He was entirely expressionless as he said the words that brought my entire universe down into a single point and then made it all explode.

“She is your true mate, Skallagrim. Your fated bride.”

The hallway tilted. I snapped my wings to one side so that I did not go crashing into the wall. I regained my footing with immense focus and then, with a strangled voice I did not recognize and a lack of wit I did not wish to acknowledge, replied, “What?”

“Your mate. Your fated mate,” Aeshyr repeated slowly, as if dealing with a dunce. Which I rather felt like at the moment. He hoisted his crate into a better position on his shoulder and resumed walking. I scrambled to keep up with him, once again surprised by his sudden movement that didn’t really look like movement at all.

“You were mate mad, Skallagrim. For a very long time, even by our standards. I am not surprised it’s obliterated so much of your mind and memory.”

“Watch your words,” I hissed reflexively, even though he was right.

He did not appear to register my testy comment. He just ploughed on with that low voice, his tone as emotionless as his face.

“You descended into violent darkness because you had not yet found your bride. That is what mate madness means. I was born long after you went mad. I never saw you before today, but I’d heard tell of the half-stone sky, half-Bohnebregg prince who left his world in a rage and had not returned.”