by S. F. Said
And now his mouth grew dry and his heart pounded in his ears, for he could hear footsteps coming closer, down through the decks, growing louder and louder.
He breathed deep. If these pirates find me, what am I going to do? Fight them? Me?
He heard their voices as they entered the hold. Harsh, hard voices.
Coming closer.
And closer.
The pounding of his heart would surely give him away, it was so loud in his ears.
‘Hold it,’ said a voice, very close indeed. ‘What’s in here?’
The footsteps stopped, right outside the cubicle. Lucky had never felt so trapped.
The door rattled.
‘It’s locked,’ said the voice.
‘They must be hiding something. Smash it down.’
Lucky panicked, and kicked the door open. Two huge horned Axxa stood there, staring at him with surprise in their fiery red eyes. A third hung back behind them in the shadows. Lucky rushed out at them in desperation, hoping to slip through the gaps and get away, somehow.
Big mistake. One of the pirates blocked him easily; it was like running into solid iron. The pirate lifted him off his feet, and flung him at the wall.
SLAM! The impact knocked all the fight out of him. Lucky sank to the ground, head spinning, body screaming with pain.
The pirates towered over him. They all wore bulky armour and had deadly-looking cannon by their sides. They were very different to the Sunfire crew. They looked like battle-hardened bruisers, with metal piercings in their faces and brandings on their arms.
‘This scrawny runt’s one of them!’ said the first pirate. ‘Human scum, on an Axxa ship.’ He cracked his knuckles. It sounded like bones breaking.
The second pirate – smaller, but sharper-eyed – scratched the base of his horns. ‘Why would a Human be on an Axxa ship? And why would they be hiding him?’
‘I – I—’ stammered Lucky, backing against the wall. It felt so cold against his hands.
‘Maybe he’s a peaceful Human,’ mused the second pirate. ‘I heard there’s peaceful Humans.’
‘The only peaceful Human’s a dead Human!’ snarled the first one.
‘Please,’ begged Lucky. ‘From the stars we all came—’
‘Don’t you dare say those words!’ raged the first pirate, horns glinting. ‘No one believes that any more – not since you sent your wolf to eat the stars. Not since this!’
He gestured at the third pirate, behind him in the shadows. And it was only now that Lucky saw this Alien clearly. There was something very strange about him. Where the other two had flaming red eyes, there was no fire in his eyes at all. They looked burned out, empty, like black holes in the sky. He was staring straight ahead, but his gaze wasn’t focused on anything Lucky could see.
Then the third pirate spoke, in a broken-sounding voice that chilled Lucky to the core. ‘Nothing matters,’ he croaked. ‘Nothing matters any more.’
The first pirate stamped a cloven hoof in fury, and the metal floor rang out. ‘You’ll pay for what you’ve done, you Human scum! And after we’ve ripped you limb from limb, we’ll execute those treacherous Human-lovers who harboured you, and take this ship for our own!’
He advanced on Lucky. Eyes full of burning murder. Teeth bared with righteous rage.
‘No – please no!’ Lucky tried to back away, but there was nowhere left to go.
The pirate reached for him with a huge hand. It closed around his neck, pinning him to the wall. And then it tightened like a band of steel, crushing air from his windpipe.
Choking. He was choking.
Oh, why can’t I fight like Bixa? he thought desperately. I wish I had power – anything to fight back with, defend myself . . .
Can’t move. Can’t breathe.
No air.
Lucky’s eyes closed.
But as everything started to go dark, he thought he heard something, in his mind.
A small, soft, silvery sound, like the chime of a faraway bell.
It was calling to him.
And something inside him responded to its call.
At the centre of his being, a spark of power flared into life. It surged through his body, rising towards the surface of his skin.
He opened his eyes – and saw his fingertips begin to shine.
The pirate released him and staggered back. Lucky gulped in the air, clinging onto life, and stared at his hands in shock. Light was pouring out of them. And the power was pulsing inside him as it rose and swelled and grew.
‘It – it’s like something from the legends,’ whispered one of the pirates.
‘Shoot him!’ roared the first one.
And that was when Lucky began to burn. He screamed in horror as a jet of fire flashed out of his own fingers. The pirate tried to move away, but the fire engulfed his body, and scorched it all away. And then there was no pirate standing there; just a swirling column of smoke and ashes.
The second pirate drew his weapon. Aimed it straight at Lucky’s face – and another blast of flame exploded from his hands. It torched the Alien where he stood. Consumed him in its blazes.
Searing pain was ripping through Lucky. His fingertips felt raw. He could smell something like sulphur, filling his senses, overwhelming his mind. But still the light was flooding from his hands, his head, his heart. And the fire was streaming from him in every direction, igniting everything it touched. He tried to restrain it, but could not prevent it from obliterating the third and final pirate.
All that remained of them now was smoke and ashes. Yet still the power was not finished. It was growing, growing: glowing brighter all the time. Lucky felt sure it would destroy him if he did not control it. It would burn through his own body and his brain, and then the ship’s walls, and then it would kill everyone . . .
What’s happening? This is like a nightmare!
He fought with all his might to pull it back inside him. He tried desperately to rein it in.
His whole body was shaking. It felt like the surface of his brain was boiling. Like his head was splitting under the strain, erupting, breaking open as arcs of blinding pain shot across his face, bigger and brighter than any body could contain.
His eyes were on fire. From his nose and mouth and ears, the light was bleeding out, and Lucky wanted only to hide from it – but he couldn’t, because it was inside him, it was him. He was the fire, and the light, and the burning in his brain . . .
I’m going to break under this pressure! I can’t take any more! But I have to stop it. Somehow, I have to—
The blood drained from his head, the ground rushed up to his face, and he fainted, right there on the floor.
Chapter Thirteen
Lucky woke up screaming.
‘It’s all right.’ A gentle voice spoke above him. ‘It’s all right, Lucky.’
He opened his eyes. He was back in the Sunfire’s main cabin. The crew were all staring at him. But there was no fire streaming from his fingers. No light pouring from his heart.
It’s gone, he thought. I’m alive. Somehow, I survived.
‘You’ve been unconscious for so long,’ said Mystica. ‘We were worried.’
He took a huge glug of air into his lungs. He felt exhausted. His head, his hands, his whole body ached. He could still feel that awful pain, shooting across his skull, splitting open his brain –
– and then he realized that he was naked. Someone had put a silver blanket over him, but underneath it, he was completely naked. And covered in ash. Again.
His skin began to crawl. ‘Where are the pirates?’ he asked. ‘What happened to them?’
‘It would seem,’ said Captain Nox, horns glinting, ‘that you destroyed them.’
‘Nothing left of them but ashes!’ said Bixa. She looked impressed. ‘Now, a blaster might be able to do that, at close range – but their weapons were all melted too. So how did you do it?’
‘I – I don’t know,’ said Lucky, heart hammering in his chest. How could he tell
them? He’d killed three people and brought the whole ship into danger – not just from the pirates, but from himself. He could’ve killed them all! No wonder his mother had looked so scared when she found his burned sheet. No wonder she’d made him promise never to tell.
But Mystica was staring at him in that strange way again, as though she could see right into his brain. ‘We don’t normally approve of violence, as you know,’ she said. ‘But in this case, we owe you our thanks, Lucky.’
‘You’re not angry with me?’
‘Course not!’ said Bixa. ‘You did a good job. I don’t think even I could’ve done it that well. So why don’t you just tell us how you did it? C’mon, you’re my training partner: don’t hold out on me.’
‘I’m not holding out,’ he said. ‘I just . . . don’t . . .’
‘What? You think stupid eyeball-eating Aliens can’t understand you? Is that it?’
Lucky looked down, shamed by her words. He dreaded what might happen when they learned the truth. But what choice was there? He couldn’t keep this to himself any more; it had gone too far.
He took a deep, deep breath – and then he told them everything he knew.
And to his surprise, it was a relief to say it all out loud. He’d thought it would sound crazy, but they didn’t question it, or get angry. They just listened, very quietly.
‘I see it now,’ said Mystica, when he was finished. ‘There are many mysteries here, but one thing is clear to me. What happened with those pirates was not your fault. You destroyed them because they left you no choice.’
‘But I didn’t want to destroy them!’ he said, choking at the memory. ‘I didn’t even know I could do that!’ He bit his lip. ‘What’s wrong with me, Mystica? What’s going on?’
‘It appears you have some kind of power,’ she replied. ‘Some kind of gift.’
‘Gift?’ He shut his eyes. ‘It doesn’t feel like a gift. It feels more like a curse. It feels . . .’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘evil’ out loud.
He pulled the blanket tight around himself, and tried to stand up. He was unsteady. His legs were weak; every part of him felt raw. Bixa reached out and gave him a hand, but there was a strange expression on her face.
‘What?’ he said. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ said Bixa. Her voice was edgy, her needles an uncertain tawny shade. ‘It’s just . . . you’re still my training partner, right?’
‘Of course I am!’
‘I still get to kick your ass, even though you’ve got some kind of weirdo power now?’
‘Weirdo power?’ Lucky gaped at her. ‘Bixa, please—’
‘Hah!’ She grinned, and stuck her tongue out at him. ‘You better get dressed, or I’ll kick your naked ass right now!’
And somehow, he couldn’t help smiling back. He didn’t mind her rudeness. It made everything seem more normal, somehow.
He reached for his kitbag and pulled some new clothes on. Thankfully his mother had packed plenty; she must’ve known he’d be needing them. How he wished he could talk to her, just once more. She could make sense of this mind-bending mystery. She would make it all OK.
But he was alone with the mystery. Completely alone.
‘You are not alone,’ said Mystica softly, startling him. ‘Our legends tell of many people who had gifts like yours. It’s our belief that these gifts come from the stars. They are the source of all power, and sometimes they allow people to channel that power. The stars work through us, you see, in ways we do not always understand.’
Lucky shivered. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Because . . . some such people are still alive today.’ Her eyes glowed gold as she looked deep inside him, and seemed to come to a decision. ‘You have trusted me with your secret, Lucky. Now I will trust you with mine. For I, like you, have such a gift.’ She drew herself up, very grand and proud. ‘I am a Startalker,’ she said.
The inside of his scalp felt like it was tingling. ‘What’s a Startalker?’
‘Someone who is connected to a star,’ said Mystica. ‘If you are a Startalker, you feel everything your star feels. Your destinies are linked. You share your lives. You call to one another, you hear each other—’
‘Stars can call?’ Lucky felt hot and cold at the same time, sweaty and shivery at once. He felt like he was standing on the edge of something huge.
‘Of course. Your Human science doesn’t recognize it, but the stars have spirits; they have intelligence. There is nothing they cannot do. And because everything came from the stars, they know the truth of all things. So we Startalkers feel the truth of any situation. You cannot hide anything from a Startalker.’
‘Can you read people’s minds?’ he gulped.
‘Not exactly.’ Mystica looked up at the ceiling, vaulting high above them. ‘As the stars call across the immensities of space – like great whales singing in the oceans deep, or bells chiming out, like silver in the black – we hear their songs, and we feel the truth inside ourselves. And we cannot help but speak it, even if it makes things difficult . . .’ She peered at him. ‘What is it, Lucky? Why are you looking at me like that?’
Her words had stirred something in his mind. A memory, buried at the edge of his consciousness. Just before he’d burned the pirates, he’d heard something. A small, soft, silvery sound, like the chime of a faraway bell.
He’d heard that sound before, hadn’t he? It was the sound of the stars, singing in his dreams. The dreams had always slipped away by morning. But now the memories were flooding back to him.
‘I – I think I might’ve heard the stars too,’ he stammered.
Mystica peered into his eyes. ‘Indeed? What do they sing to you?’
‘I’m not sure. I can’t understand the words.’ A shudder ran through him as he remembered the dreams – and then recalled those scorching faces, staring back at him in the astrolabe. ‘So . . . are there other Startalkers?’ he asked Mystica.
‘As many as there are stars,’ she said. ‘In ancient days, we were known by different names. Soothsayers. Prophets. We were high priests, guardians of truth and destiny, watchers over worlds. But some Startalkers have always had special responsibilities, above and beyond the rest. In our time, those duties fall to the Startalkers connected to the three brightest stars of this galaxy: Scorpio, Capricorn and Aquarius. Each of us has a different power, a different kind of knowledge. There is the Startalker of the Present, the Startalker of the Past, and the Startalker of the Future.’
‘You’re one of them?’
‘I am the Startalker of the Present,’ said Mystica. ‘I feel what is happening right now, in this moment. This is my domain.’
‘And . . . what about me?’ said Lucky, every hair on his body prickling. ‘Do I have the same power as you? Am I a Startalker?’
She stroked her chin. ‘Well, I know who the Startalkers of the Past and Future are, and you are certainly not one of them. Besides, I never heard of a Startalker who burst into flames. But these are not ordinary times. Anything is possible. You may be a new kind of Startalker: one we have not seen before.’ She glanced at Bixa and Frollix; they both looked away. ‘Be sure of one thing, though. Having a gift like this is never easy. It is a huge responsibility – and not everyone who has such powers wants them.’
Bixa’s needles darkened at her words. Frollix just laughed.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Lucky. ‘Are you saying Frollix and Bixa are Startalkers, too?’
‘I am not a Startalker,’ muttered Bixa under her breath.
‘But you will be, one day,’ said Mystica. Her face wrinkled with lines of pain. ‘I shan’t be here forever, you know. When I am gone, you will take my place, and when the Professor goes, Frollix will succeed him. You’ve always known this, yet neither of you will accept your power – constantly fighting, taking nothing seriously—’
‘C’mon, Mystica!’ drawled Frollix, putting his hooves up on the table. ‘Can you imagine me being all wise and stuff? It ain’t never
gonna happen!’
‘Not if you don’t grow up and take responsibility.’
‘But we don’t want that responsibility,’ said Bixa. ‘We never asked for it.’
‘I understand your feelings, my dear, much better than you might imagine,’ replied the old lady. ‘But alas, we do not always get a choice.’
‘Alas?’ snorted Frollix. ‘You Startalkers were almost wiped out by your own people! Does that sound like something anyone would choose?’
There was an awkward, painful silence. Then Mystica sighed wearily.
‘Frollix is right about one thing,’ she told Lucky. ‘With the coming of war, it became dangerous to be a Startalker. So we went into exile, scattered across space, and hid ourselves away. That’s why this is a secret – and why you must keep it. But do you understand, now? You are not the only one with secrets and gifts. Far from it. Here on this ship, you are not alone.’
He stared at each of them in turn. Not alone. The words comforted him a little. ‘So what do you think I should do?’ he asked her.
‘I cannot tell you what to do. Others may have their opinions, but only you can know for sure. So I think you need to learn more about this gift of yours before you make any decisions.’ She coughed: a painful fit that shook her whole body. She drew her furs close around her, and adjusted her headscarf. ‘Does anyone else know about your powers?’ she managed to say at last.
‘My mother knew. She said my father warned her it was going to happen – so he must know too.’
‘Then you were right to go looking for him,’ said Mystica. ‘And you must keep looking until you find him, for his knowledge may hold the key.’ She glanced at Captain Nox. ‘We’ve made good time; we’re near the outskirts of the Leo system now. I can take you to see the Professor and get your astrolabe repaired.’
‘Oh – thank you!’ said Lucky. ‘Thank you so much!’
But Captain Nox was scowling. ‘Mystica, I’ve done what you asked and brought us here, but I will not let you run such risks. You’re not well enough to go out onto a dangerous planet. You’re staying on the ship – and I’m staying to look after you.’
Lucky peered at her. She did seem very frail and weak. For all the bright colours of her clothes, her skin was pale, almost translucent. ‘Are you OK, Mystica?’ he asked.