Excerpt: Shooting Stars

Shooting Stars

PROLOGUE

There once was a boy who laughed, and smiled. He used to do other things, too, like play and learn and listen to the adults around him, gathering the meanings behind their words. Adults, back then, had just been so funny. They normally never really stated what they really felt.

And Laine, at some point in time, had listened to adults, and a few in particular, because their words always meant the most to him. When he watched Connon and Ally, he had felt like he was watching a private ceremony, just because of how far they had come with each other.

But that was no more.

Once upon a time, Laine Reeve had trusted openly, with wide, accepting arms. That had been before the battle, and Connon had turned on them…and slain Ally.

Everything stopped making sense. Every. Little. Thing.

There also once had been a reason for living, for said boy. Now, nearly a week after the Angel Massacre, he still felt numb, even at his own inauguration ceremony. He was kneeling down, his head tilted down against his chest. He could hear the murmuring from everyone around him, criticizing.

He’ll never make it. How could a eleven year old kid beat Rasphedy? He’ll break before the year’s end, I bet.

He tried to block out the hateful words, but it was already so hard just to be here, and not locked up in his room, questioning himself on what exactly he could’ve done to save Miss Ally. In truth, not much, but still, maybe if he had been closer, or had seen his turn sooner…

Maybe it all would’ve ended up okay, and it could’ve been passed off as a mistake.

But, now, with the woman he’d seen as his, and the man who he had seen as his father, were both dead. Nothing was going to bring them back, and Laine was just going to have to deal with that depressing fact of life.

And now he was alone in the world…and he was supposed to lead a kingdom? How surreal was that? He knew most of the Dream Catchers thought someone older and more experienced should go up and take Connon’s seat as the leader, but, when Tierney had read Connon’s will…he had clearly stated that Laine would be up for the job.

But Laine didn’t want this job. He didn’t want it more than anything, at the moment.

“And we will follow him, no matter where he takes us,” Tierney’s voice boomed across the room, but wasn’t harsh in any aspect. “And he is our leader, as told by Connon Rasphedy.”

Laine’s back hurt, from being hunched over for so long. He did his best to ignore the pain, and keep his head down. He didn’t want anyone else seeing the traces of dirty tears that caked his cheeks. He was already the soon-to-be-failure of the Corporation. No need to add fuel to the fire.

And, even when the platinum crown touched his forehead, and cheers erupted from all around him, it didn’t matter.

That cold weight against his chest—the coin pendent that Ally had left behind, tucked beneath his flannel shirt—was icy against his skin, and the armor that Connon had designed for him was becoming heavier by the second, challenging him to straighten up and act like the leader he was supposed to be.

Are you happy now, Connon? He thought sourly, rising to his feet, to look at his new followers. Was it worth it, killing her, and killing all who followed you?

Of course it was. It always is. Now, the real question for you is this, m’boy: are you ready to fill my steps? I’ve made some pretty big ones.

He couldn’t stop the tears when they came, knowing Connon’s all-too well-known phantom smirk hovering beside him, overshadowing him.