"We have arrived," Donal announced, his voice bright against the evening quiet.

The tavern was massive, a three-story structure of dark wood and latticed windows that spilled a honey-colored glow onto the dew-drenched grass.

"Why is it so big?" Sabrina asked, eyeing the height of the building. "Is this more than just a place to drink?"

"It is a residence as well," Donal said, reaching for the door. "The proprietor is an old friend. She will see us fed and tucked into real beds tonight."

He pulled the door open and offered a playful, sweeping bow. A bell chimed overhead. Zorn moved to step inside, but a hand suddenly snagged the back of his jacket, yanking him to a halt.

"Hey!" Zorn yelped.

"Ladies first," Khor muttered, his grip firm. He leaned in, whispering harshly in Zorn's ear. "It is Don’s rule, not mine. Personally, I would let her wait outside."

He released the jacket with a sigh and crossed his arms. Zorn watched in surprise as Sabrina straightened her spine, looking smug and almost regal as she swept past them into the warmth.

The interior was nothing like a typical tavern you would commonly see around. Red cushioned booths lined the walls under the shimmer of crystal chandeliers. The floors were polished black and white tiles that reflected the light like a frozen pond.

"This is a bit much for a tavern, isn't it?" Zorn whispered, his eyes wide.

"Ownership has its privileges," Donal chuckled. "The lady who runs this place is a dragon. You can always expect a bit of regality when their kind is involved."

Zorn noticed a shift in Donal’s expression, his eyes had softened, a look of genuine affection replacing his usual mask of mischief. Before Zorn could ask, the rhythmic taps of heels echoed across the tiles.

Click

Clack

"Ah, she is here," Donal said.

A statuesque woman emerged from the shadows. Her skin was deep and dark, contrasting beautifully with golden eyes that seemed to glow. Long braids cascaded to her waist, swaying with every graceful step. Her dress shimmered like a captured night sky, cinched by a golden waist chain.

Zorn’s breath hitched. Hanging from that chain was the exact same pin Donal wore on his cloak.

Who is she? Zorn wondered. 

Even Sabrina looked stunned, her usual haughtiness momentarily replaced by pure admiration.

"Don," the woman said, her voice smooth as silk. She stopped before him, crossing her arms with a knowing smile. "It is a pleasure. Are these new members?"

"Regrettably, we have a red snake in our midst as well," Khor sneered, rolling his eyes.

"I heard that," Sabrina snapped.

Khor didn't even look at her. "I am not exactly trying to be subtle. If my loathing is too quiet for you, I can certainly find a louder way to express it." He began cracking his knuckles, one by one.

"Please stop," Zorn groaned. "I have enough problems without you two auditioning for a divorce court in front of the host."

The fire died in Khor’s eyes. He huffed and turned away, locking his arms over his chest in a moody silence.

Donal stepped in, gesturing toward the woman. "This is Moira, the heart and soul of this establishment. Moira, meet Zorn and Sabrina."

Moira gave a small, elegant wave. "You all look like you are about to collapse. I assume you are hungry?"

"I feel like I am going to pass out," Zorn admitted with a weary sigh.

"I have a private area for special guests," Moira said, gesturing toward a quiet archway. "No interruptions."

Donal stepped forward, reaching into his pocket. 

"Will eighty gold petals cover the rooms for the night as well?"

"Gold petals?" Zorn blurted out. "And what did she mean by 'members'?"

"All in good time," Donal said, tossing a wink over his shoulder as he followed Moira.

Sabrina’s eyes narrowed. She was clearly losing patience with Donal’s secrets. She kept glancing at Zorn’s wrists, searching for the mark from the beach. 

Donal noticed the predatory look in her eyes and leaned closer to Moira, whispering low. 

"Keep Sabrina entertained while I talk to the boy," he murmured, slipping a handful of gold coins shaped like flower petals into Moira's hand.

Moira’s golden eyes flickered to the coins, then to Sabrina. With the grace of a hunter, she stepped directly into Sabrina’s path, cutting off her view of Zorn.

"Donal, you are as clumsy with your timing as you are with your coin," Moira said, her voice like velvet. She turned her full attention to Sabrina. 

"The men are already thinking of their stomachs, but I find myself in a predicament. They have a tragic lack of taste when it comes to decor."

Sabrina blinked, startled. "I—pardon?"

"I have two suites," Moira continued, guiding Sabrina away by the arm. "One with moonlit gardens, one draped in eastern silk. I would much prefer a woman’s intuition on which is more suitable for guests of your caliber. Let the boys sit in their dusty booths and talk of business. Come. It is rare I get a guest who knows the difference between silk and sackcloth."

"Well," Sabrina said, puffing out her chest and shooting a final, triumphant look at Khor. "Someone has to make sure we aren't sleeping in a stable."

The three men watched them disappear.

"What just happened?" Zorn asked, feeling like he’d missed a magic trick.

"You just witnessed a payoff," Khor grunted, heading for the private booth.

Inside, the room was quiet and circular, lit by a white glass lamp. Zorn sat across from the two men, his fists balled on the table. 

"I need answers. Now."

"Very well," Donal said, crossing his legs. "First: I am a fae. Though I prefer the term Sidhe."

Zorn flashed back quickly to Khor's statement from earlier: “You all just give out your names like it’s nothing? What if one of us could use that against you?” 

He stood up so fast his booth shook. "I knew it! Plush was dropping hints about you the whole time!"

"DAMMIT, IT'S KHOR! SIT DOWN!" Khor roared.

Donal ignored the outburst. "The pins represent the Fae Star Guild. It is the only thing about the guild that is tangible. No fortress, no throne. Just your word. And as for who leads it..." Donal grinned. "You do."

"I didn't make a guild!" Zorn protested.

"It means you are your own leader," Khor clarified. "You carry the values. No one else holds your leash. No one knows who the true creator is that started this guild."

"And the 'petals' are just currency," Donal added. "We are in the Divided Lands, a continent fractured into four territories: Planetary, Elemental, Constellation, and a Skyborne Dominion known as Numerical. Right now, we are in the Planetary territory, but we have more important things to discuss. Like that mark on your skin."

Donal’s grin faded. "It is the mark of a star soul, a celestial being incarnated into flesh. In the Divided Lands, under the current regime, your very existence is a death sentence. You are of the Scorpius constellation, sworn to purify evil. You’re the star soul Antares, aren't you? A spark of the Mars Mage, Gradivus. He is but one of the seven, the great Planetary Lords."

Zorn’s heart raced in his chest. He looked at his hands, trembling, rembering the monster's words back at the beach: "You may be a child of the Mars Mage... but you lack his intellect."

"And that girl, Sabrina?" Khor added, his voice chillingly calm. "The Red Saints she belongs to? They are slaughtering star souls. They think they’re 'cleansing' the world of a 'Star Curse.' The Planetary Lords are sending you stars through the threshold to fight back, but these converts are brainwashed."

Zorn felt the air leave his lungs. The armored man's words from the beach finally made sense.

I didn't just save a girl, Zorn realized with a hollow pit in his stomach. I just helped the people who are hunting me.