2. Rain Moonstriker

Chapter 2

Rain Moonstriker

Adair Courtwright was impossible.

He was the first man to hear the song of a moon tear in almost a hundred years—a skill so rare that there were legends about people like him. And yet with all that, that skill and power and the intelligence to comprehend all the information shooting at him every hour of every day, he stayed with Oberon Gloombringer, who didn't appreciate him as he deserved.

He could have commanded any price, any salary, with his ability. I knew my uncle had considered courting him over to the family when he'd first heard the song. I'd been a child at the time, but even I had heard his name more than once.

Fires below, I was half convinced my family's collection of moon tears had been part of a traveling museum display, going everywhere in the Summerlands specifically with the intention of finding someone like Adair.

So I wasn't certain why Uncle Cove hadn't pressed the matter. He had to have held back because of Mother's counsel, but why ?

More than all of that, Adair was . . . beautiful.

Hair so dark a brown that it was almost black, cut short on the sides and a little longer on top, glossy and casually swept back as though he'd run a hand through it and let it lay where it fell. He had a square jaw, stubbled even though it was barely past noon, probably because his hair was just too dark to be held back for long. Eyes that matched his hair, that near-black shade of brown. But more than that, they...they glistened, with an almost golden sheen when he was using his magic, which seemed to be—well, always. Every moment. Even as he looked me in the eye, there was a hint of it.

How smart was this man, to be processing all that information at once? I could almost feel my mother salivating over the notion of bringing him into the family, and wondered why she might have told Uncle Cove to hold back.

Sim, on the front of my jacket in the dragon's eye, gave a little tinkle in my mind, and it sounded amused. They weren't quite sentient in the way of most intelligent stones. I was the first human who had heard their song just ten years ago, and they were still learning what it meant to share their song with a human. How to communicate with me.

Oberon was annoyed with my presence. I understood. He'd wanted Uncle Cove and gotten me instead—it wasn't a great trade for him. I could have told the Gloombringer that it wasn't about him, but me, but I didn't think that would help his mood.

It was precisely that, though.

My siblings and I had been sent out into the world to deal with the other families as a sort of test. A competition, almost, to decide who was most worthy to be successor to the family's power. Ember to Sunrunner Palace, Frost to the Dawnchaser Estate—something I thought was especially cruel of Mother to do—and me to this summit with the Gloombringer.

"I suppose if that's what the Moonstriker thinks of us, we'll start with that," Oberon said, followed by a heavy, dramatic sigh.

It was actually better than I'd expected. While the Gloombringer family of the modern era seemed determined to say they were forthright and staid, relying on common sense rather than emotions, everyone knew that deep down they were a melodramatic lot. The world was their theater, and they loved to put on a good show. Or at least an entertaining one.

My family had mostly retreated from the world at large over the years, because we didn't handle melodrama so well. We were people of logic. Math. Science. Actual common sense, to my mind, though my mother was always quick to remind us that there was something to learn from nearly everyone.

Even Oberon Gloombringer? I had doubts.

"The Moonstriker family looks forward to warmer relations with great hope," I told him, trying to be as clear as possible. I wasn't going to accept him being an ass, but my presence wasn't intended as an insult.

It was a test for me. Could I make peace with the stubborn, intractable Gloombringer family, who'd practically tossed everyone out of their lands years ago over a now irrelevant argument? It remained to be seen, but I supposed I had as much chance of success as any of my siblings or Uncle Cove would have.

Oberon waved a dismissive hand at us, turning toward the front of the house. "Yes, yes, as you say." He turned to Adair. "Get the maid. "

After that, Adair summoned someone to show us to a suite of rooms in the north wing of the house. The windows of the bedroom faced north as well, which was a well-considered gesture. It might be one of the only bedrooms in the whole castle with windows that all faced north. Toward home.

A subtle touch, but a good one.

Those drama queens were always good at things like that , a sultry, pleased voice announced in my head. But keep in mind it was their servants who thought it all through, and they did it before you arrived and that great oaf of a Gloombringer decided your presence was an insult. Try not to be too impressed by a little flash with no substance.

Iri.

The family stone. She was why this test of my ability was pointless, but I couldn't tell anyone that. Iri had started speaking to me a decade earlier, not long after I'd first heard Sim's song. I'd panicked initially, realizing that it wasn't my brand new stone speaking to me, but the ancient, powerful stone of my ancestors.

Sim's song was a simple melody, sweet and high and lovely and so very easy for me to process and use. Iri was...so much. I'd been connected to her for years now and hadn't even brushed up against the major parts of her abilities.

Uncle Cove could pause time.

Mother could turn it backward.

I'd never even tried anything like that. I had tried slowing it once, as a teenager, to avoid getting caught outside the house when I was supposed to be in bed already, and given myself a doozy of a nosebleed that hadn't entirely stopped for hours. It had worked, but it definitely hadn't been worth it. I'd been woozy for days from the blood loss.

I had been worried about Sim when Iri started talking to me, under the assumption that one could only be bonded to a single stone. Iri, amused, had told me to keep Sim.

Songs are manifold. Symphonies exist. The universe has more than two parts, and so does your mind, little one.

Annoyingly, even now at twenty-four, she continued to call me that.

Back when she'd first spoken to me, nothing had been decided between Mother and Uncle Cove about who would be the heir to the family power, and I was the youngest of my siblings. I'd always presumed it would be my oldest brother who would take over. He'd been just like Uncle Cove, clever and tall and the best duelist in the family.

Then Iri had simply announced her presence in my head, and told me surprise, it was me. I was the one of my siblings she'd chosen. Congratulations. Oh, and by the way, don't tell anyone. It's none of their business.

"The place is clean," Tempest announced, coming into the central bedroom of the suite, whose window I was staring out. She was my right hand. The person who Mother had assigned to me when we were teens as friend, bodyguard, confidante, and every other thing I might need. She'd been chosen, as Mother chose everyone, for her intelligence and adaptability, as well as her stone.

Like so many of the Moonstriker cousins and their vassals, she had heard the song of an aquamarine. The stone of time. Tempest could see shadows of the recent past all around her. As such, she could perfectly locate listening devices and cameras, detect invasions of privacy—however well executed, and even just tell us which way someone had gone if we needed to know.

She was an ideal companion in every way, and over the years we'd been together, she had also become my best friend.

I sighed, turning to sit in the windowsill. She made a face, like she was worried the clean sill was going to get dirt on my clothes. Reasonable, since I was wearing the most ridiculous outfit known to humanity, white on white on white. But I was a Moonstriker, here representing my family, and as such, we had to present a specific face.

Bad enough I wasn't Uncle Cove as they had wanted. I couldn't have word getting around that Moonstriker representatives went around slovenly or underdressed. Mother would be so disappointed.

And in the end, so would I, in myself.

Which is why I picked you, Iri said, her deep voice almost making me shiver. Because you're as good as Delta. Maybe better. That enormous mind of yours. All those unique, new thoughts, but still some tradition, so I understand where we're starting .

I couldn't help a smile at that. It helped, when she said that she liked me as I was. My mother was...she was perhaps the smartest person I knew. One of the smartest people in the world. But sometimes she wasn't all that good at telling me things like that. That I was good. That she liked me the way I was. She was always focused on learning and growing and improving, which was fine, but sometimes it was a heavy burden to carry.

Iri had been with Mother for most of her life, so when she said the things I secretly wanted to hear, it meant something. She was no more a liar or exaggerator than Mother was .

She made a rude sound sort of like a raspberry at that. Why lie to you? If I wanted you to be someone else, I'd be looking for someone else to teach. Lying is a waste of time .

And that? That was practically the Moonstriker creed. Lying was a waste of time. Prevaricating, even for the purpose of sparing feelings, was a waste of time. And there was little the Moonstriker disliked more than wasting time.

It was probably why Iri had chosen my family, back when the first stones emerged.

She was a clever little monkey, your ancestor , Iri agreed. But I like you more. And Delta. So much more flexible .

And Uncle Cove, I added.

Iri was notably silent. I didn't think she disliked Uncle Cove. She wouldn't regularly touch his mind if she did. But apparently she didn't like him more than our first ancestor whose song she'd shared, whoever that had been.

There was something reassuring about the conversation.

Iri would tell me the truth, even if she knew I didn't want to hear it. Too many people outside my immediate family would tell me whatever they thought I wanted to hear, because I was Moonstriker, possible heir to the north.

"Everything okay?" Tempest asked, in front of me now instead of all the way across the room. I hadn't even noticed her moving; I'd been so lost in my thoughts. "I know that Gloombringer boor is going to be a terror, but you've handled worse."

This time, I smiled for her. "I'm not worried about Oberon Gloombringer. Sim let me know all about him. He's...well, he's a blowhard and an ass, but he doesn't pose a threat. He wants this peace. He may not care about much other than his reputation, but he cares very much about that. He doesn't want to be remembered as one of the people responsible for a worldwide catastrophe."

Tempest's shoulders loosened a bit, and she slumped against the windowsill next to me. "I hate it. We've been out of Moonstriker land for less than a day, and it's awful. I want to go home. People honked their car horns at us, Rain. Car horns . I didn't even remember what one sounded like until today."

"It is...very different from home," I agreed. "Loud and fast and angry."

She nodded, giving a theatrical shiver, then glancing at me from the corner of her eye. A sly smile overtook her whole face, one bit at a time. "Adair Courtwright, though."

I sighed and leaned on her, not even bothering to try to hide it. I'd been as clear as glass when they'd arrived. I hadn't been able to take my eyes off him.

Sim had started feeding me information as soon as they'd entered. So much misery in the Gloombringer family. Betrayal and heartbreak for Titania. A father who taught Oberon that he was both the most and least important person in the world, two extremes he still vacillated between. Adair was no different, in some ways. Lost mother. Father as gray and abominable as any Gloombringer. But then there was a spot of light inside him that spread and spread and spread, and it had made Adair into so much more than he could have been.

Rhodri. His stone's name was Rhodri. It was a piece of knowledge that Sim rarely gleaned, understanding that the name of a stone was personal, private information they probably shouldn't relay, and that I didn't need.

With Adair, they had sensed my intrigue, and started telling me everything. I had more facts floating around my head about Adair Courtwright than I had about some people I'd known my whole life.

"He's beautiful," I finally admitted.

She snorted at that. "Beautiful? Seriously? Did I just mishear that? Surely you meant he's clever."

"He's a genius," I added, agreeably. "He's bound to a moon tear. He'd have gone mad trying to process that much information if he weren't a genius. Besides, the rumors out of Gloombringer lands always give him credit for every clever thing the family does."

She didn't insult my intelligence by suggesting the rumors were anything but true. Lots of rumors were lies, but this one wasn't, because if it had been, I'd have known it the instant I met him. As soon as Sim had done their thing and started feeding me information about Adair's life.

"They say he's loyal to the Gloombringer," she pointed out. It wasn't a rebuke. I knew more about who Adair was than she did, and we both knew that. She could see what had happened over the last few days everywhere we went. I could see what had happened over the course of a person's lifetime when I looked at them.

I nodded. "He is. More than he believes, I'd say."

She shivered dramatically again. "So creepy when you do that. Almost like you're a Gloomy and you can read his mind."

"You remember we're in Gloombringer lands, right? Maybe someone nearby can read minds, and they're reading ours right now. I'm not sure calling them Gloomies is the best way to endear ourselves."

She snorted, standing and pulling me up next to her. "Pretty sure there are only the two of them at this point, and no one outside the direct family has done much sapphire resonance. They're almost as rare as moon tears these days. Besides, if they are reading our minds, that means they'll be preparing lunch, since it's already late, and frankly, so far they haven't made the best impression. Their lord is a petulant child who's angry your uncle didn't come, and his sister is drunk." She turned to stare at me, jaw clenched. "She's drunk, Rain. It's barely past noon, and she can hardly stand up."

I considered the bones of the information Sim had given me and nodded. "Be kind to her, Tempest. She's drunk for a reason."

"What's that?"

"Because it's easier than being sober." It was all I was willing to say. All I'd been willing to look at of Titania Gloombringer's past, really. People didn't grow that miserable and jaded for no reason, and I knew that once, she'd been a bright, hopeful, shining young woman who'd wanted to change the world. To better her family. And now she was drunk at one in the afternoon.

A simple, easy life didn't result in that.

"I noticed you didn't defend the old man himself."

I shook my head. "There are reasons he's the way he is, but in the end, he made a choice. He chose to be childish and selfish and think the world ought to revolve around him."

"So I don't have to like him?"

My shoulders trembled with the effort of holding back laughter, and I shook my head. "No. You don't have to like him. You don't have to like anyone."

She blew air out between her lips. "Please. When you tell me to be nice to someone, it's always because their puppy drowned when they were eight and it ruined their whole life or something like that. "

I blinked and for a handful of seconds, I was somewhere else. Some when else. Nighttime, a dark gazebo in a vast, beautiful garden. Looking up at a man with ash blond hair, who was giving me an expression of sheer disdain. "It's time to grow up and deal with real life instead of dreaming of a future that isn't coming, Titania. Look at the bright side. This will ensure you're second in the line of succession." Then he turned his back on me and walked away.

I had no idea why, but the moment was like a knife to the heart. The man with the ash blond hair broke something inside me—inside Titania—that could never be fixed.

It wasn't a drowned puppy, but it was...

Sometimes, my shared song with Sim was too much. No one should have that kind of access to the pasts of strangers, even if their intentions were good, as I liked to think mine were. Fortunately, Sim didn't often give me that much information, even if they were accessing it all and storing it away for later use. It had taken a while, but eventually we'd managed to come to a happy medium between not enough important facts and the overload they were capable of giving me.

"Just be nice to her," I reiterated, leaning on her a little as I tried to catch my breath after the vision.

"I will," Tempest promised, earnest and concerned, wrapping her arm around mine and holding tight. "Are you going to be okay? This is a lot more new people than you're used to being around. The magic can take it out of you."

I took a deep breath but nodded. "Mother wouldn't have sent me if she didn't think I could do it."

"I'm not worried about your mother," she shot back, but she did relax a little. She knew as well as I did that Mother was...well, she was Mother. If I couldn't handle this negotiation, she'd have known it and she wouldn't have sent me.

Sometimes it was hard to know that your mother was one of the smartest women in the world. And sometimes? Sometimes it was so very easy and made everything else easy along with it.

Mother wanted to test me, but she never wanted me to fail. If there was one thing in the entire universe I had faith in, it was her.