Star Dust (Force Of Gravity Book 1) Read online

The lack of bodies moving about the hallway was odd. The thought hovered at the edge of her mind, quickly pushed aside for more pressing matters.

  The large black crystal door loomed in front of her. She raised her hand and knocked on the door to the stateroom.

  “Who is it?” Her father bellowed from the other side. His harsh tone was out of character—King Orion never raised his voice in anger.

  She pressed down on the handle, pushing open the door, peeking her head through. “Father?”

  “Oh, it’s you, Oriana,” he said, turning his head away to look down at a scattered piled of papers covering the large oval table that filled the room.

  Figuring it was safe, she slid through the opening and pushed the door closed behind her. Meandering over to the King’s side, she asked, “What happened?”

  “Nothing for you to be concerned about, now go back to playing.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. Playing? She cleared her throat loudly. “I haven’t ’played’ in years, Father,” she said pointedly.

  The King looked up at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Forgive me, Oriana. Things did not go as well as I had hoped. Do not stress yourself about it, I am just distracted.”

  “If I am expected to take over these discussions, I need to know about them.” She placed a hand on her father’s arm and waited as he contemplated her statement for a long moment.

  “Orion dear, you should tell her, she does need to know. It will affect her soon enough,” the Queen urged gently from her seat across the table.

  “You are right. Have a seat.” The King motioned for her to sit.

  Facing her, he leaned against the massive table, waiting for her to get comfortable before he started.

  “The Erisian Kingdom would like to trade for our crystal, but have only a weak, porous rock to offer in return. Their planet lacks minerals of value, or use, in quantities great enough to sustain the type of trade they wish to make. I had no choice but to reject their initial offer. King Mobius was not happy with that development, so instead offered a joining between you and his son, Prince Erik.”

  “What?” Oriana reeled. “But, a joining? Don’t they know—”

  “If they didn’t,” his voice rose in irritation. “Then they do now. I have a feeling that a joining between you and Prince Erik was King Mobius’s ultimate goal for today. He offered too little for what he expected in return. It came across as a messy premise to gain an audience. When I rejected his proposal the first time, he suggested the joining. I told him you are already betrothed to Prince Caelan, and that we would not break that arrangement for any reason.”

  No wonder the Erisian King had looked at her with such anger. Her impending marriage to Jupiter’s Prince had ruined his plans for this meeting. Oriana shivered. She hated feeling like an object to be bought and sold without a say. Would her father have ever considered such a thing? The thought sickened her.

  “What if I wasn’t? Then what?” She demanded, irate for being used to further anyone’s agenda—even her own father’s.

  “You are, and you will remain so,” he said dismissively, turning to sort through the papers scattered across the table. “There is no point in furthering this discussion.”

  “There is a point. What if I hadn’t been promised to Prince Caelan? Would you have given me away for the sake of a treaty?” Her stomach churned as a little bit of bile reached her throat.

  I’m going to be sick.

  Guilt washed over his features as he faced her. “You know it would have been up to you. Both you and the Prince would have been brought in for the occasion. You know that Oriana.”

  “I am not a thing to be bartered and traded with.” She stood, her fists clenched at her sides.

  “Your betrothal stands as a condition on your birth. Had it not been made then, there would be nothing stopping you from making your own decision.” Orion spoke softly. “It was necessary at the time, and it is the reason such arrangements are only made within weeks of a birth and not later.”

  The King’s exterior transformed from his stern, business posture to resigned. The muscles in his face relaxed as he sighed, making him look older than he was—and tired. His eyes held a weariness she had never noticed before.

  “Oriana, I have always regretted making this decision for you.” Regret made his voice thick.

  Her face softened, the anger coursing through her dissipating instantly at his words. “I know Father.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug, “It’s all right.”

  Oriana

  Oriana sat up, clutching her sheet to her chest. She scanned the darkened room. Nothing was out of place. So what then, had woken her up? Sleep pulled at her.

  A loud crash. Her bed shook. Her heart pounded, trying to free itself from its cage.

  Shouting—no, those were screams.

  She jumped out of bed, stumbling as her foot caught the blanket, rushing to the door. Cracking it open she recoiled as a billow of smoke hit her in the face. The acrid air burned her eyes.

  Screams erupted from all directions. Opening the door wider, she stuck her head out and looked around. Celeste ran from the room next to hers and pushed her way through to her, a whirlwind of movement, hair flying around her face.

  “Oriana you must hide now,” she whispered, panic tightening her voice.

  “What’s going on, Celeste?” Oriana asked. Her hands shook as she watched the woman bolt the door shut.

  “There’s no time to explain.”

  Oriana hesitated. Why should she hide? It was her job to protect Soleis. She needed to find out what was happening.

  “Oriana, you must hide. If they find you, they will kill you too. You must survive so you can save us.” Celeste hurried to the wardrobe and opened it, grabbing a black, long-sleeved shirt, a pair of white pants, and coal-black boots. She shoved them into Oriana’s arms.

  They? Who are “they”?

  The shouting grew louder. It was right outside the door.

  “You must find the key to the Gateway and get help,” Celeste instructed, pushing her down onto the floor and urging her to move under the bed.

  Turning her head, she watched the cloth of one of her night gowns as it fell down around Celeste’s feet. The bed above shifted as the woman flung herself across it.

  “Whatever you do, Oriana, do not make a noise.” Celeste’s voice was a harsh whisper.

  The bed creaked above her with her maid’s movements. She clutched the clothes tightly to herself. The drumming of her heart threatened to drown out the sound of explosions.

  What’s happening? Why—

  The door burst open and footsteps pounded upon the floor of the room. The air left her lungs, freezing her with fear. Unable to move, Oriana listened, trying to wake her mind from its fog.

  “Get out of my room right this instant!” Celeste yelled indignantly. “How dare you enter my chambers at such a late hour.”

  Why is she doing this?

  Her brain refused to focus, still clouded by the unnatural way she had woken.

  A loud blast hit the wall, crystal stone shattered. Chunks flew across jagged trajectories and rained down. Dust invaded her lungs, setting them on fire. She fought desperately against her body’s desire to cough.

  Oriana clasped her hand over her mouth and nose, refusing to let air in or out. Her eyes burned, tears fell down the side of her temples.

  No! Celeste…

  “Wait—don’t forget,” a rough voice growled. Rustling could be heard and then a small object clinked against the crystal floor tiles. The heavy boots stormed out of the room.

  She stayed still, unable to move, refusing to breathe, as darkness made her vision hazy.

  It felt like years before she could bring herself to move. Oriana coughed on the dust as it continued to settle around her.

  Dreading what awaited her, she rolled away from her initial hiding spot. Inhaling and choking on her breath, she rolled onto her stomach and peered out from under
a hanging blanket into the room. All was still.

  She waited as the dust settled. Downstairs, shouts and screams could still be heard, but each cry grew further and further apart until a deafening silence roared in her ears as she waited for the next.

  Oriana used her arms to drag herself out from beneath the bed.

  Dust covered every surface, broken stones scattered throughout the room. This was, or had been, her room, but she had never felt more exposed or violated. Reaching back for her clothes, she pulled them to her chest like a shield.

  She stood, her back to the bed, afraid of the sight that would greet her once she turned. She couldn’t run. Couldn’t avoid the sacrifice. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she forced herself to turn. A whimper escaped, forcing its way past her lips. Her hands shot up, stifling her sobs. The clothes fell to the floor, forgotten.

  “Celeste…” she sobbed, falling to her knees.

  Nothing. Nothing was left but the charred outlines of her friend’s form. Blackened star dust against the wall. Dust and rubble. The wall was cracked, splintering out from a fist-sized crater in the center of what would have been Celeste’s chest—taking all trace of the woman who gave her life so that Oriana could live.

  Falling to her knees, Oriana’s stomach heaved. She had to get out; she needed to find help.

  I can’t do this alone… Prince Caelan! He would know what to do. Scooping up the clothes in her arms, Oriana stood, scanning the room. She couldn’t change here, not with Celeste’s… a shudder ran through her.

  A dark green button, rimmed with gold, gleamed on the floor. She bent down, picked it up, and examined it. It was a button from a Citali uniform, but it didn’t belong to any of the planets she knew—The colors… It had to be Earth’s uniform.

  But why would it be in her room? Chills ran down her spine.

  Could Earth be responsible for this?

  She gripped the button in her hand, the hard metal biting into her palm.

  Taking great care to avoid the cutting edges of the debris, Oriana made her way to the door. Only an eerie silence met her. The screams and explosions had died out.

  Squeezing out the small opening, she headed down the hall and into an empty room kept for royal guests.

  The room was a mess, blankets tossed around, furniture overturned, vases smashed. She hurried to the closet and closed the door behind her.

  They’ve already been here. They wouldn’t bother to come back, she told herself, trying to strengthen her courage with logic.

  She couldn’t hesitate anymore; she had to go, now. Slipping off her nightgown and pulled on the fitted white pants and the black shirt, before shoving her feet into her dark gray, knee high boots. Oriana pushed her tangled hair behind her ear as she reached down and ripped a piece of material off her gown, using it to tie her hair back in a low ponytail. The button had slipped from her hand and fallen to the floor. Quickly, picking it up, she stuffed it in her pocket.

  How would she get to Jupiter? She’d never left Soleis. Tears formed in her eyes at the lack of preparation she had for this moment. Though… she reminded herself, perhaps it was impossible to ever be prepared for something like this. This was a nightmare.

  All she wanted to do was find Caelan. She hadn’t thought any of this through. Get to the Gateway… no… find the key to the Gateway, then get to Caelan. She didn’t know how to use the key. She didn’t even know where to find it. How could she get help from anyone if she didn’t even know the first thing about life outside the palace?

  Her chest tightened. “Maybe I can just wait. Someone is bound to notice something is wrong soon. They will come and look for me.” Oriana murmured. But did she buy that? No. She could wait for a year before anyone might notice.

  Steeling her nerves, Oriana pushed open the door and left behind everything she knew, entering a life she didn’t have the first clue how to navigate.

  As a child, she’d spent many years sneaking around the castle, a skill that now came in handy. When she was younger it had been a fun game, the reality of it now was sickening and it terrified her. Oriana kept her back to the wall and used curtains to hide her when she could.

  Passing the burning candelabra, she blew on the flames, extinguishing them. She needed to get downstairs and into her father’s chambers—all the way across the enormous landing at the top of the stairs. The room was close, but it might as well have been lightyears away. Oriana tiptoed to the edge of the stairs and pulled the large, red curtain around herself, allowing her to peek around the corner to the ballroom below.

  A crash her made her jump and she let the curtain fall back into place. Two men, both dressed in the Citinal uniforms of Soleis, were destroying what little there was left. Despite their uniforms, their dull hair gave away that they were not from her world. The strands lacked the sparkling gold that all Soleisans had. Dark shadows were burned into the floors and walls. Shadows in the form of people she’d known and loved.

  Oriana turned her eyes back to the men. One pushed on the grandfather clock, rocking it back and forth until it toppled over. The ancient clock slammed into the ground with a loud crash and he immediately began sorting through the broken pieces. The other man pulled a knife from his hip and ripped open the velvety, padded material of her father’s throne. Two dark shadows fanned out across the floor under the man’s feet.

  Who are these men? What have they done?

  Shaking her head, she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Horror wrapped around her throat and pulled the air from her lungs. A dark abyss rose up and clouded her mind.

  How would she get to the other side without them seeing her? The second she moved from her spot she would be exposed, and they would see her. Oriana looked around, desperate for anything to help create a distraction and came up empty-handed. What she wouldn’t give for a slingshot or something else—anything. She peered past the red material once more and watched the two men move about the room, as they continued their destruction.

  A third man stormed into view as he walked through one of the doorways off of the main hall.

  “What are you still doing in here? Check upstairs and find it, so we can get out of this place,” he ordered.

  The two men saluted in a strange manner.

  That wasn’t right…

  Her eyebrows pulled together.

  Pounding footsteps on the stairs brought her attention away from the man who seemed to be their leader and back to the other men. They were heading right for her.

  She inhaled and sucked in her stomach, flattening herself against the wall as much as possible. The footsteps grew closer. Silence greeted her ears as the men reached the top of the stairs. Oriana squeezed her eyes shut.

  How had she ended up in this position? Alone, pressed against the wall, hiding behind the curtains like a criminal, and fearing for her life in her own home.

  A moment later, the footsteps resumed. They turned left and headed in her direction. A bead of sweat dripped down her temple, tickling the side of her face. They paused in front of her curtain momentarily, then resumed their motion. Oriana stayed frozen in place, too scared to move. Her heart pounded, and she could only hope they couldn’t hear it. Minutes passed, and a single set of footsteps continued after the first.

  Stay here. Don’t move yet.

  The overwhelming feeling of not knowing what to do came back, threatening to choke her where she stood. She’d never trained for anything like this. She’d been prepared for balls, speaking to her people, dealing with diplomats from the other planets—but nothing like this.

  An eternity had passed before more footfalls came running around the corner and down the steps. Once their boots hit the crystal floor of the ballroom, she let her breath out. Oriana chanced a glance at the impostors.

  What happened to our Citinal? Why aren’t they here, getting rid of these men?

  They spoke in hushed tones to their commander and then followed him out of the room.

  Without wasting a s
econd, she pushed the curtain out of her way and dashed across the open space to the right wing of the palace. Oriana pushed open the first door she came to and quietly closed it most of the way.

  Gazing around the room, she saw the ruin of yet another place that held memories for her. Books spilled onto the floor, chairs had been knocked over and lamps lay smashed. Even through the chaos though, this was the Queen’s library.

  Backing into the corner Oriana peered through the thin crack. The men were coming back up the stairs.

  Why? Why are they coming back? She thought.

  If she didn’t think of something soon, they would find her.

  “It isn’t here. He was wrong about the location.” The dark haired man grumbled stepping into view.

  “Yeah well, He wants us to check again.” A light-haired man snapped as he moved in front of the small opening.

  It? What is it? What are these men looking for?

  “There’s no one left.” The two voices spoke as they passed her door. Neither seemed to take their assignment seriously.

  Oriana closed her eyes.

  Good, they don’t know about me.

  A sliver of relief washed through her.

  She waited until the stomping of their boots faded around the corner. Oriana ran to the fireplace, wrapping her hand around the candelabra, she pulled it down and let go. It jumped back into position and a door slid open in the wall next to it. With one more tug on the candelabra, the door started to close. She rushed through, not willing to give it time to shut without her on the other side.

  She dropped to her knees and breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made it this far.

  Muffled voices came from the other end of the room.

  “Did you hear that?” one harsh voice asked.

  “Just hurry and check it out.” The other snapped back.

  She needed to move. If they found the door, she’d be dead.

  With every passing second, this nightmare took another turn, pulling her further from her goal. Oriana continued to move, holding herself up on shaking legs. Given only one option, she followed it, but everything she did only led her further away from Caelan. Her hand once again crept upward, looking for the missing pendant that should have been around her neck.