Three Seeking Stars

by Avi Silver

  “They threw a spear,” Ahn said.

  “Well, yeah, that wasn’t cool,” Sohmeng admitted. “But we look pretty scary with the sãoni, right? Once we show them we’re not bringing in any danger, it’ll be fine!” Ahn didn’t look convinced. His eyes followed the strangers in the trees, his fingers flexing at his sides. Sohmeng attempted a reassuring smile. “Hey. We’re still going to take you back to the Qiao Sidhur camp, if that’s what you’re worried about. This is just a detour, promise.”

  He still seemed pretty on edge, but Sohmeng could deal with that later. For now, she had to sort things out with Hei.

  “It’s close enough to nightfall that you shouldn’t have too much trouble leading the sãoni away, yeah?” she asked. “But like, not too far away?”

  Hei nodded, speaking carefully. “It is possible. How will you get back tomorrow?”

  “I’ll follow the tracks. I do pay attention to some of the stuff you say about hunting,” Sohmeng teased. “...but if you could like, also leave a bunch of other obvious signs of where you are, that would be great. Just in case.”

  Hei sighed loudly. Sohmeng couldn’t blame them. She was building this plan on the spot, trying to solve problems as fast as she thought of them.

  Mama let out a low bellow, lifting her body from the ground; apparently she was done. The colony let out Sãonipa clicks of acknowledgment, readying themselves to move. Even Ahn’s two attached hatchlings squeaked, urging him forward.

  “I don’t like this,” murmured Hei, taking Sohmeng’s forearms. “I don’t like you being away from us.”

  “I’ll come back to you,” she said, nudging their nose with hers. After so much time spent with Hei, she also felt a little lost at the idea of being apart, even for an evening.

  But this wasn’t the jungle—this was a hmun. With people. And where Hei specialized in all things wilderness, Sohmeng had spent her whole life dealing with more human-shaped challenges. She could do this. She was Par—well, she had been Par before. Sort of. Her lunar identity felt lumpy and uncomfortable in its newness. She steadied herself, reframing the thought: Fine, I’m Minhal. Let’s cause some problems.

  A couple more scouts joined the party that was watching them from the treetops. One of them whistled for her attention. “Are they leaving or not?”

  “Working on it,” Sohmeng replied. She rubbed cheeks with Hei for good measure; if this change of plan was making her nervous, she could only imagine how they felt.

  “And him?” the scout asked.

  Right. Ahn. He’d managed to keep his hands off the flaming sword, but he was emanating the same unflinching energy as the day they’d first met. It wasn’t openly aggressive—he just looked too ready for Sohmeng’s liking. She couldn’t understand it; there wasn’t any reason for this to be a fight.

  Still, it seemed like a better idea to bring him inside than to leave him with Hei. Sohmeng had already learned her lesson on that front.

  “He comes with me,” Sohmeng called back, detaching the hatchlings from Ahn to put them back on Mama. Ahn rubbed the spot on his face where the little lizards had been affectionately gumming. He looked tense, pensive. For a second she thought he might refuse. “...that okay, Ahn?”

  “I—yes,” he said, tugging once on his piercing. “Of course. Sorry.”

  With that decided, Sohmeng gave Mama one last pat as Hei mounted her back. They reached down to pull her onto her toes for a kiss. “Don’t have too much fun without me,” Sohmeng said.

  “Don’t be silly,” Hei replied, setting her feet gently back down on the jungle floor. “You know I’m no fun at all.”

  A whistle, a roar, the scrabbling of claws, and the colony disappeared into the jungle, slipping through the winding trees. Sohmeng took a deep breath, resisting some old, childlike urge to shout, to call them back to her. She had made her choice—now it was time to see what she could do with it.

  The thicket of tall, slim trees began to shift, disturbing a flock of tiny jewel-bright birds hiding in the branches. Three scouts entered the clearing in cautious formation, holding spears not unlike the one that had landed at her feet. Sohmeng could understand their caution; even with the sãoni gone, these people had probably never seen any riders before.

  Not that Sohmeng had much idea of what to expect from them, either. Though they were all descendents of the legendary civilization of Polhmun Ão, connected by ancient lineage, she had never seen a hmun outside Ateng. From a glance, this one’s people looked to her like cousins: dark, straight hair, skin in shades of amber, sturdy legs and square palms. Their clothing, she noticed, had fewer layers than Ateng, but that made sense given the fact that they weren’t stuck in the perpetual coolness of the caves.

  With his slim frame, silvertongue hair, and solid two hands of height on everyone else, Ahn stood out. Even the bones of his face were different, his cheeks carved granite in comparison to the rounded pottery of Sohmeng’s people. But it wasn’t just appearances that highlighted the differences between them; it was the way the scouts gripped their weapons, eyeing him with distaste. Distrust.

  One of them stepped over, an individual with a stern brow and grays in their short hair. “What is your business?” they asked. Sohmeng took them as the leader of the group. Their voice was naturally authoritative, and they had at least twenty years on the two scouts with them: a petite youth with two long braids, and another person with a scar on their cheek.

  Sohmeng swallowed. Despite the extensive language practice she had gotten in with Ahn, all her Dulpongpa dried up in her throat, leaving her stumbling. “I—I am Sohmeng Par,” she finally said. It was probably safest to claim Par right now; she couldn’t risk them denying her entry if they thought she had been exiled. “Of the hmun Ateng. This is Ahnschen. He’s...” She hesitated, watching the way Scar’s hand flexed on their weapon.

  “We know what he is,” the leader said. “So I ask you again—what is your business here?”

  Sohmeng stopped, glancing to Ahn. What he is? She had no idea what that was about, and the what in question remained still, revealing nothing.

  “Do you need help?” Braids suddenly asked, looking at her worriedly. The leader shot them a look and they slunk back, apologetic.

  Sohmeng pushed aside her confusion, grateful that someone had asked. “Yes!” she said to the woman in charge. The feminine ‘I’ the leader had used gave Sohmeng a pang of solidarity, left her wondering if she was Par, too—maybe that was a way she could appeal for help. “Yes, we need help. Like I said, I’m from Ateng—the hmun in the mountains, not too far south? We probably used to trade together, actually, but we haven’t been able to because we’ve been trapped in Fochão Dangde, one of our mountains, for a few years because of an attack from the sãoni. Not, not the sãoni we just rode in on, but...”

  This story was a little longer than she had initially considered. Despite her best efforts to summarize, the scouts didn’t appear to be paying much attention, busy as they were sizing up Ahn. Sohmeng couldn’t help but feel like her thunder was being stolen.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “Um, look, I don’t know if there’s something I’m missing here, but I really need you to take us to your Grand Ones. This is sort of urgent.”

  Scar sneered, saying something to Leader in their hmunpa. It was too fast for Sohmeng to understand, but the tone didn’t sound promising. Braids took Scar’s arm, protesting, but they were quickly shaken off as their companion gestured furiously at her and Ahn.

  This wasn’t going how she’d planned.

  “Ahn,” she said quietly, doubt churning in her chest. “What’s going on?”

  Though the boy’s face remained impassive, she caught the twitch of anxiety in his hand, an interrupted jerk of a motion. He wasn’t going for his sword—he was trying to reach his ear.

  Before he could answer, the scouts’ attention was back on them. Leader stepped slightly closer to Sohmeng, her voice calm despite the rising tension. “Forgive my lack of hospitality, but I�
�m not sure if that can happen, Sohmeng Par.”

  “What—” Sohmeng couldn’t tell if she was more confused or angry. Of all the complications she’d imagined, getting turned away had never even crossed her mind. “Why not?”

  Leader ignored the question. “Are you a hostage?” she asked plainly.

  “What?”

  “A hostage,” she repeated. “Are you with this man against your will?”

  Braids was looking at Sohmeng with those big concerned eyes, glancing between her and Ahn like he was about to grow another sword out of his head. Meanwhile, he was just standing there and taking their animosity without so much as a word to defend himself. This was ridiculous.

  “No,” Sohmeng snapped. “Ahn’s a—a friend. We found him in Eiji, he had gotten separated from his hmun—”

  “His hmun,” Scar spat, voice acidic. “Is that what he told you?”

  Despite her better instincts, Sohmeng shot them a withering look of her own. “No, I used my mind-reading powers. Do you not have them here? They’re a big thing in Ateng.”

  Sohmeng could practically hear Viunwei shrieking at her about pettiness, but she didn’t care. Whoever this was, they had no right to talk to her like she was stupid. They didn’t know anything about her. Maybe she didn’t know everything about Ahn, but she and Hei had a pretty good sense of the bigger picture. Probably a better one than some closed-off hmun who started chucking spears on sight.

  “Lita Soon...” Leader said placatingly, holding up a hand and switching back to their shared hmunpa. Despite her apparent authority in this group of scouts, the man didn’t immediately back down.

  Of course he’s a Soon, Sohmeng thought, stifling a groan.

  As the three scouts dissolved back into hushed arguing, Sohmeng felt a hand slip into her own. She looked to Ahn, whose eyes were on the tangle of branches above them. That’s right—there were more scouts in the trees. It unsettled her to feel like she was being watched from all sides.

  “Sohmeng,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being kind to me. You and Hei.”

  Sohmeng blinked at him, taken aback. “What?” Where was this coming from? And since when had Hei ever been nice to him?

  “I was very lost and you let me live.” His hand was warm and dry in hers, but his voice wavered as he spoke. With a gentle squeeze, he looked at her, offering an apologetic smile. “I am grateful.”

  “That’s... very sweet of you?” Sohmeng said. “But I’m not really loving this last chance we have to speak tone you’ve got going on.”

  The way he winced was too much. That was enough—Sohmeng was done with this cryptic nonsense. Whatever the issues were between Ahn and this hmun, she wasn’t going to waste any more time standing around and being denied information.

  She whistled sharply for attention. These people weren’t Grand Ones; she didn’t have to be deferential. She didn’t even have to be nice. “If you aren’t going to help us, are we good to go?”

  Leader almost looked amused. “What happened to needing help?”

  “Urgent help, actually,” Sohmeng said, stepping right up to her and ignoring the way Lita Soon gripped his weapon. “So if you’re going to waste our time, I have another hmun to go find.” She wasn’t sure when Ahn had moved so close to her, but she could feel that terrible calmness he carried. It did nothing to ease the strangers’ tension, but it made her feel safe, to know someone else had her back when Hei wasn’t there.

  Braids looked to Leader, this time voicing their worries in Dulpongpa. “Polha Hiwei, he would want to know. We can’t just—”

  Hiwei, huh? Sohmeng could work with that; few signs hated a lost opportunity more than Hiwei children. She cocked an eyebrow at the group, feigning indifference. “Our sãoni are moving north anyway, we should find another by next Nor. Though I wonder if they would be curious about the fact that another member of the network shut their doors on a hmun in need.”

  The scout in charge, Polha Hiwei, looked once more between her and Ahn. “I believe your companion could tell you that the hmun up north have had troubles of their own.”

  Sohmeng went cold. “What do you mean—”

  “But you’re right,” Polha continued over her, offering a conciliatory nod. “The hmun of Nona Fahang has had much reason as of late to open its gates to the troubled and the displaced. I will take you to our Grand Ones, and they can decide what is to be done about your situation.” Her gaze landed pointedly on Ahn.

  Sohmeng could not read the woman’s intentions. For all she knew, this agreement was a punishment rather than a courtesy.

  “Eakang,” the woman said, nodding to the youth with the braids. “Go inform the Grand Ones of our guests’ arrival.”

  “And—”

  “Him too, yes. Now go.”

  Braids—rather, Eakang—turned on their heel and disappeared through the trees. With a whistle from Polha Hiwei, a slim wheel of rope was dropped from above. “Lita,” she said, unwinding it. “Help me bind the man.”

  Sohmeng stepped in front of Ahn, protectiveness surging through her even as she struggled with what the woman had said. Logically she knew she couldn’t protect him, but she couldn’t just watch this happen either. He had travelled with their colony, the hatchlings cared about him, he had just thanked her for keeping him safe. “No,” she snapped. “No, you can’t—”

  “Sohmeng.” Ahn touched her shoulder. When she looked back at him, she could see genuine fear in his eyes. He squeezed them shut, cursed softly in Qiao Sidhur, and placed his sword upon the ground. Sohmeng could only stare. Why would he offer himself like this? “Please don’t fight them—I don’t want trouble for you.”

  “Ahn,” Sohmeng asked, her own voice shaking, “what did you do?”

  His face was drawn tight in what might have been shame; his answer came in Qiao Sidhur: “Qøngem.”

  Conquest.

  It was a bad time to realize that she hadn’t fully understood what that word meant.

  “Your shell,” said Lita coldly, his spear angled in Ahn’s direction.

  The man hesitated, then removed the few pieces of armour he kept on out of habit. The rest, including the helmet, had been left with the sãoni, too heavy to carry around all the time. Stripped down to his thin, loose shirt and dark pants, he held out his arms, inviting a search. Lita stayed firmly in place, but Polha patted him down. When she was satisfied, she passed the rope to Lita, who wasted no time forcing Ahn’s hands behind his back.

  Sohmeng wished Hei were here. She shouldn’t have just let them leave like that; she thought she could handle it, she didn’t realize they were walking straight into a hostile situation. What if she couldn’t get back? What if—

  Polha Hiwei took out a knife, stepping toward Ahn. Before Sohmeng could so much as shout, she sliced the blade through the low hem of his shirt, cutting off a thick ribbon of fabric. Ahn flinched at the sound, but the flash of skin beneath appeared unscathed.

  “G-godless night,” Sohmeng said as the woman tied it tightly around Ahn’s eyes. “Is this really necessary?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Polha held out a hand in invitation. “Come.”

  As they navigated through the wall of trees, Sohmeng became less and less convinced that Ahn needed to be blindfolded. It was a veritable maze of wood, so tall and dense that Sohmeng had no way of knowing which trees had grown which branches. Based on the scouts’ careful steps, she figured there had to be some sort of route; one wrong step was probably enough to guide you into a corner too tight to wriggle out from.

  Lita Soon was behind them with Ahn. Now and then Sohmeng heard the sound of his body making firm contact with the trunks. She clenched her fists, wishing desperately that she had more context, more information, anything to work with.

  One step, then another.

  The sound of her own breathing, a pained grunt from Ahn as his head was smacked into a branch. The cry of a bird, the creak of the trees.

  One step. Another. And then—

  Th
e thicket opened, revealing the interior of Nona Fahang. From the inside, the forestry they had emerged from looked like a massive wall, surrounding a bustling village. Trees grew in clusters, woven into different structures: houses, archways, ladders. The overhead branches were shaped in such a way that the villagers were able to walk on them. She didn’t know that people could live this way, all stacked on top of each other.

  Despite all of her fear and uncertainty, Sohmeng granted herself a moment to appreciate the fact that she had made it. She was in another hmun. The first from Ateng since the Sky Bridge fell.

  “Welcome to Nona Fahang,” Polha Hiwei said, looking back at Sohmeng with unexpected warmth. She could see the pride on the woman’s face.

  People were beginning to gather, curious about the strangers that had been brought inside. They came from their homes in surprising amounts; just looking across the courtyard, Sohmeng already saw numbers far greater than that of Ateng.

  “Straight to the Grand Ones?” Lita asked, nudging Ahn forward. His cheek was scraped where it had hit one of the trees, matching the scar on his captor’s face. Sohmeng clenched her fists.

  “I think that would be best,” Polha agreed. “Before the whole hmun shows up.”

  Nona Fahang, Sohmeng thought, taking a moment to search through her parents’ old stories. It was the fortress hmun, wasn’t it? Built like a tree nut: miserable to get into, but wonderful once inside. A long-time trade partner with Ateng. Neighbourly.

  Unless Ahn was the neighbour in question. The murmur of voices was building like the call of cicadas, whispers stacking on each other until they became a roar. Even as the villagers watched the scene, they kept their distance, save for the occasional wandering child who was yanked back by their parent. All around Sohmeng heard a word—tsongkar, tsongkar. She didn’t know this word; she couldn’t understand much of anything they were saying in Fahangpa. But it didn’t sound like it meant anything good.

  “Tsongkar?” she asked Polha.

  “Not you,” the woman said, a note of sympathy in her voice. “They’re referring to your companion.”