by Bryan Davis
“If you mean the king of the Northlands, I’m not so sure about that, but if you know of a way to get there in a hurry, I’m listening.” Keeping a hand on Regina’s arm, he pulled the raft into the water, altering to an abrupt tone. “But if you don’t, we have to be on our way.”
While Shellinda and Wallace shifted Marcelle to the raft, the star floated closer. “I get the impression, Adrian, that you lack faith in me. Is it because of how I manipulated you?”
“For lack of a better word, I guess manipulated will do.” With the other four settled on the raft, Wallace with the sword now in its scabbard, Adrian climbed on. As the raft sank lower, water sloshed over the bundled saplings. It stayed afloat, but just barely. The raft slowly accelerated, its bottom scraping the bed at times.
Adrian took Regina into his arms and pressed against the bandage, trying to slow the bleeding. Wallace and Shellinda each set a hand on Marcelle as she lay tightly curled on her side. She continued staring blankly, seemingly unaware of the danger. With cart, bedding, and deerskin gone, she shivered in the misty air.
Standing on the interior floor of the star, Cassabrie floated behind them. “Adrian, what can I do to restore your faith in me?”
As she closed in, warming his skin with the star’s radiance, he focused on her emerald eyes. “Look, Cassabrie, I understand what you did. You helped me figure things out about Marcelle and me. But you did manipulate me with your mesmerizing charm or whatever you want to call it. And I suppose that you somehow regained your body in this world, even though you claimed that you were nothing but a spirit here. Right now, I don’t have time to think about why else I’m skeptical. If you want to help me, then great. Do it. Otherwise, let me figure out how to save this girl’s life.”
“I will do what I can.” Accelerating, Exodus lifted over their heads and flew downstream. When it reached a point about a hundred paces away, it settled into the water and brightened, as if energized by the contact. Steam flew upwards in billowing plumes. The water between the star and the raft piled into a rolling wall, repelled by the star’s presence.
As Adrian and company floated downstream, Cassabrie and Exodus drifted upstream, driving the water toward them. Within seconds, the two forces would collide.
“Hang on!” Adrian shouted, hugging Regina closer.
Wallace pulled Shellinda down, threw himself over her and Marcelle, and grabbed a vine. When the raft met Cassabrie’s wave, the front lifted, tipping the floor at a precarious angle. Wallace began sliding toward the back, dragging Marcelle and Shellinda with him. The vine snapped. Adrian lunged, turning to his side and holding to Regina as he latched on to Wallace’s wrist. The raft bobbed and pitched wildly. Like violent sea waves, water cascaded over their bodies, soaking them as it tried to sweep them from the deck.
Finally, the raft settled to an even keel. Adrian let go of Wallace and settled to a sitting position, a mixture of water and blood dripping from his hair. Regina curled into his lap, shivering. Wallace sat up and helped Shellinda rise. As always, Marcelle lay quietly, oblivious to everything.
About ten paces behind, Exodus drove the water upstream, leaving only narrow rivulets trickling southward underneath the raft. Ahead, the entire river had reversed direction, as if anticipating the coming force. It picked up the cart they had left behind and drove it forward until it washed to the side and tumbled into high grass.
Heaving deep breaths, Adrian called out, sputtering, “What … how … how did you do that?”
“Did you not read the signs?” Cassabrie asked. “Marcelle told me that you notice everything.”
“What signs? What do you mean?”
“Signs that this stream has reversed course in the past. I saw the bent grass blades myself. Didn’t you?”
Adrian nodded. “I saw them, but I thought there must be another reason. A stream couldn’t just—”
“Ah! Then you came up with an alternative—a simpler, more logical explanation. What was it?”
“Well … no.” With the star bathing everyone in warmth, Regina’s shivers ceased, but her breathing became erratic. Sweat blended with the water on Adrian’s face, stinging the cuts and scrapes. “It doesn’t really matter what I thought. Let’s just keep going.”
“Very well, Adrian, but the king is likely to ask you similar questions, and he will not be so easily persuaded to drop the subject.”
“But what’s the point? To make me look like a fool for being surprised about a stream that reverses course? Anyone would be surprised.”
“Do your companions share your reaction?” Cassabrie asked.
Wallace nodded vigorously. “Surprised doesn’t even come close, and I thought I’d seen everything.”
Tears coursing down her cheeks, Shellinda laid her head on Marcelle’s chest. “I’m not saying. I just want everyone to be all right.”
Cassabrie spread out her arms. “You don’t understand. I’m not admonishing you, nor would the king. I am simply trying to prepare you for a future event that exceeds this one in wonder and importance. But if you’re not prepared to believe in advance of the event, then it won’t benefit you. This stream’s reversal is hastening your rescue even without your faith, but the one about which I speak will leave you without hope if your hearts are not ready.”
“So will we get a sign?” Adrian asked. “Something like the bent grass?”
“If the sign is revealed in advance, then faith will be void. Yet, I will provide a quote from the Code, which you likely already know.” Cassabrie folded her hands as if in prayer. “To those without faith, the cure to their ills appears as poison, a scalding star that sets aflame, for they see only with their eyes. They understand not that the wounds of the human heart are incurable. The heart of man must die in order to be renewed, for that which is planted cannot rise unless its shell is first shattered and cast off.”
As the raft rushed onward, sending a fine spray over his face, Adrian let the words settle. They were somewhat familiar, perhaps uttered in a Cathedral sermon long ago. When he sat with his family in the peasants’ section near the back, he often paid no attention, preferring to daydream while he pretended to listen. Still, much of the Code had penetrated his meandering mind, even if he hadn’t intentionally allowed it. When Prescott later banned the Code from all but the Cathedral officials, the words suddenly became more precious, and a rabid study of hidden fragments was more of a refresher than a new revelation, proving that he had listened more intently than he had thought.
“A scalding star that sets aflame,” he murmured. How strange that the Code would mention a star, seeing that a terrestrial star now referred to that passage as part of a riddle. These two worlds seemed so vastly different, yet they were somehow linked by an ancient connection, a binding tie, mysterious and hidden from sight.
Regina twitched. Her eyes opened. Although glazed, they seemed to focus on Adrian’s face. “Are you going with me?” she asked.
“Of course. I won’t leave you. Not for a moment.”
“But you can’t go with me unless you—” Her back arched, and her mouth locked open. Her eyes clenching shut, she wailed in agony.
“Regina!” Adrian shouted. “What’s wrong?”
Cassabrie called out, “I was afraid of this. I’m going to push you to shore.”
With a spin of her cloak, the star turned, and the current shoved the raft onto an alluvial beach. Adrian jumped up and laid Regina in the soft meadow beyond the sand. Surrounded by red and blue flowers, her stiff body relaxed. Blood had soaked her bandage, but the hemorrhaging had slowed to a minor trickle. The cooler winds of the north cut through their damp clothes, raising shivers from every passenger. “The cut’s sealed!” Adrian yelled. “What could be wrong with her?”
Exodus floated closer, again providing warmth. “Check her abdomen. That’s the surest sign.”
“Surest sign of what?” He lifted her tunic, exposing her stomach. Ulcerated lesions covered her skin. “Oh, dear Creator! What is it?”
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“A disease,” Cassabrie said calmly.
“The disease Exodus carries?” He scooped Regina into his arms and held her close. “Did you infect Regina?”
“I don’t have the disease. It was released in the dragon village and has spread throughout that area. I assume you were close enough to contract it. It’s possible that you all have it at one stage or another.”
“How do you know you don’t have it?” As Regina convulsed again, he rocked back and forth with her. “How do you know you’re not spreading the disease now?”
“I am immune, and Exodus is sealed. It cannot expose anyone to the disease unless it leaks.” She pulled a short, paper-covered cylinder from under her cloak. “I am now taking the star to the Northlands to aid your soldiers and ponder a potential cure for the disease, but there is no time to explain further. We have to help Regina.”
Adrian laid Regina down and ripped her tunic, again exposing the sores—bleeding, oozing boils that had spread toward her chest. Her body lay still, though she breathed easily.
“For some reason it’s spreading through her body quickly,” Cassabrie said.
“She’s weaker than us. Her immune system can’t handle much.” He touched the edge of one of the sores. “I don’t think she’ll make it to the Northlands.”
“You’re right. That’s why I brought you to shore.” Cassabrie drifted closer. “You saw what Jason did to heal your father.”
Adrian nodded. “He brought a stardrop from Exodus, but we don’t have a healing tree.”
“The healing trees won’t cure this disease. We have to take a more direct approach. Regina must swallow a stardrop.”
“Swallow it? But won’t that burn—”
“Ohhh!” Regina’s body bent again, this time twisting with the spasm, though her wail was more subdued, as if breathing had become a hopeless chore.
“Scoop radiance from the star’s skin, Adrian! She’s dying!”
He hustled toward Cassabrie, shielding his eyes with his hand. Although the heat felt soothing at first, it soon became a scalding barrage of stinging fire. He formed his hand into a ladle and dug into the star’s membrane. Like glittering sand, tiny crystals flaked away and fell into his palm.
He took a step back, letting the crystals settle to the center. They bit painfully into his skin. “What now?”
“Pierce Exodus with your sword, just an inch or so. Have no fear of a leak. You are already exposed, and I will seal the wound immediately.”
Wallace ran up and set the hilt in Adrian’s hand. With the hot crystals still burning his palm, Adrian pricked Exodus with the blade and gently eased it in. When the tip emerged on the other side, Cassabrie pressed her finger against it until she bled enough to coat most of the tip.
“Pull it out now and mix my blood into the crystals. It’s the only way to cure the disease.”
Adrian withdrew the sword. As the tip passed through the membrane, Cassabrie’s blood sizzled. She pushed a finger through the hole, scooped a dab of crystals onto the tip, and drew it back in. From inside, she rubbed them over the cut, instantly closing it.
Adrian wiped the blade’s tip over the crystals in his palm. As the blood seeped in, the sizzling heightened, and the crystals turned scarlet and began to shrink.
“Compress it,” Cassabrie said, “just as if you were forming dough into a ball. But don’t drop it or let it touch anything but skin, or it will dissolve.”
Adrian laid the sword down, pressed his hands together, and began rolling the crystals. With every rotation, the ball grew hotter and hotter. After a few seconds, smoke rose from his hands, and the odor of burning flesh assaulted his nose. He blew through the gaps between his palms, but the air did nothing to ease the torture.
Finally, he opened his hand. A shining ball sat on his palm, singed flesh surrounding it and smoke curling up from the wound.
“Now tell Regina that this is the cure,” Cassabrie said, her voice calm. “Ask her if she wants to swallow it. You must warn her, however, that it will burn terribly. She must make the choice herself.”
Gritting his teeth at the burning pain, Adrian shook his head. “There has to be another way. This will kill her.”
“I cannot deny it. In her weakened state, it might kill her. Yet, it’s her only hope. She’ll be dead in moments if she doesn’t take it.”
Adrian sighed. “I guess you’re right.” He hurried back, sat next to the raft, and pulled Regina into his lap. “Regina,” he called in an urgent whisper, “I need you to listen to me.”
She blinked her eyes open, revealing her familiar glazed orbs. “I … I’m listening.”
“You have the disease Exodus carries, and you’ll die if you don’t take this pill I have.”
“A pill? What’s a pill?”
“It’s something that’s small enough to swallow, and it heals your body, but this one is very hot.” He pinched the stardrop, instantly scalding his fingertips, and drew it toward her mouth. “I’m putting it close to your lips so you’ll feel how hot it is. You have to tell me if you want to risk it. You’re so weak, you might die anyway, but if you don’t take it, the disease will kill you.”
As he inched the stardrop toward her lips, her face twisted. “It is hot!”
He pulled it back and let it settle in his palm. His skin continued sizzling, and smoke continued to rise. “Will you take it?”
“Will it make me see?” she asked.
Adrian looked at Exodus, now about ten paces away.
“I wish I could tell you, Adrian,” Cassabrie said, “but I simply don’t know. I have been told that it can cure the disease. I have no more information than that.”
Regina closed her eyes tightly, furrowing her brow.
“Regina? Did you decide?”
“Shhh. I’m asking the Creator what to do. I want to see again, so I’m asking him.”
“Okay, I’ll—”
“Augh!” Her eyes and mouth shot open wide. Her body bent into another convulsion. Clutching Adrian’s arm, she cried out in a stuttering wail. “Give … it … to … me!”
Holding his breath, he pushed the stardrop deep into her mouth and closed her jaws. Her eyes widened further, and her cheeks flushed red. Closing her eyes tightly again, she swallowed.
For several seconds, no one moved. All was silent. Then, Regina’s skin grew hot. The ulcers on her stomach, still exposed by the torn tunic, began to bubble and sizzle. The outer edges receded, instantly replaced by healthy skin.
Regina smiled, her eyes still closed as she whispered, “I feel much better.”
“Whew!” Adrian swiveled toward Cassabrie. “You did it! The stardrop worked!”
“Yes, I see that.” Cassabrie neither smiled nor frowned. “That confirms what I must do for all of Starlight.”
“What do you mean? What must you—”
“Adrian?” Regina called.
He turned back to her. “Yes?”
She blinked rapidly. “I still can’t see.”
“Well, the stardrop wasn’t supposed to—”
“But …” Her voice took on a lamenting tone. “But the Creator said it would work. He said I would be able to see.”
“The Creator spoke to you?”
She nodded. “Not like you speak to me. I saw him in my mind. I heard his voice inside me.”
“She is a Starlighter,” Cassabrie said. “I can recognize my own kind. Exodus has provided the Creator’s words to her gifted senses.”
“But if the Creator said she would be able to see, then why—”
“Help!” Regina stiffened in his arms. Her eyes rolled up, exposing only the whites. Clutching Adrian’s tunic, she let out a long, wordless wail. Then, she fell limp.
Adrian touched her cheek. “Regina?”
Wallace and Shellinda crept closer. “Is she all right?” Shellinda asked.
“I think so. The sores are gone.” Adrian pushed an eyelid up. Her eye stared straight at him, still glazed, still blind. “Regina,
can you hear me?”
“I don’t think she’s breathing,” Wallace said. “Check her heart.”
“She’s just resting. The stream’s too loud to hear her.” As Adrian shifted her to the raft, his arms shook violently. “The stardrop’s power must have sapped her strength.”
Wallace set his ear on Regina’s chest. “I don’t hear anything. No heartbeat at all.”
As Adrian looked at him, his throat tightened. He couldn’t say a word. Shellinda slid a hand into his and whispered, “You did the best you could.”
He turned to Cassabrie. With her chin resting in her hand, she seemed puzzled, but she stayed silent.
Adrian touched Wallace’s head. “Let me.” When Wallace moved out of the way, Adrian laid his cheek on Regina’s chest and listened, tuning out the surrounding noises. Her frail chest stayed motionless, and her heart made no sound.
As he rose and looked at Cassabrie, he swallowed hard, loosening his throat. “If the stardrop cured the disease, why did she die?”
“I have a suspicion.” Cassabrie tapped her foot on the star’s floor. “I wonder.”
Adrian laughed nervously. “It’s some kind of Starlighter trance, right? She can stop her heart and—”
“No,” Cassabrie said. “Don’t let your grief fabricate a myth. Something else is happening.”
As tears trickled down his cheeks, Adrian’s voice took on a tremor. “Then what is happening?”
“Stand back!” Cassabrie ordered. “Everyone move away! Immediately! I need room.”
Adrian scooped Marcelle up and guided Wallace and Shellinda to a spot several paces from the raft. After laying Marcelle down, he looked back, a hand again shielding his eyes. “What are you going to do?”
Cassabrie guided Exodus directly over Regina and lowered the bottom of the sphere to a point less than a foot above the raft. As the star’s radiance washed across her, her body bent into a new convulsion, this one more violent than the others.
Shellinda clapped her hands. “She’s alive!”
“In a manner of speaking.” Cassabrie lowered herself to her knees and looked down through the star’s transparent skin. “You have to, Regina. It’s the only way.”