Above the Star

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Above the Star Page 27

by Alexis Marie Chute


  Nate had climbed the tree and there, in the leafy canopy, the two had safely watched as Valarie instigated her vengeance. Nate had told Archie—when they were reunited—that he had sensed what would happen next when the Maiden turned blue. It was then that Nate had torn Duggie-Sky from the limb and dropped from branch to branch down the tree, seeking escape, but not swiftly enough. When the Maiden released the full heat of her flame, when her black eyes crumbled like exhausted embers, the force of the explosion had rocketed the humans out of the tree and inland through the whitewood. They counted their wounds from the fall as new bruises among many. Moments later, they discovered Tessa, disoriented in the smoke, running frantically a few yards in one direction, then another.

  When Archie and Ardenal found the three, they were rushing southwest on the route their company had traversed less than a day before. Nate was carrying Duggie-Sky on his muscular back and holding Tessa’s hand, their fingers entwined. The captain failed to mask his irritation upon crossing paths with Ardenal.

  Tessa wore the same expression of wild determination then, at the company’s unexpected meeting, that she wears now, as she leads their smaller, tired group toward the glass city of the Olearons. At their backs, climbing above the sea, is the foreign sun—but instead of bursting with yellow light, it cuts the sky as a shimmering red orb. The bloody daylight and the shadows it creates are the company’s only navigational markers in the dense smoke that billows inland, the choked sunshine hinting at the eastern shore behind them. They feel the caress of the morning’s diffused heat as they flee its presence.

  Tessa mumbles under her breath, talking with Ella, and only speaks loudly to update the group on her daughter’s whereabouts. Archie wishes Tessa offered more frequent updates, that he too could communicate with Ella, even if only to hear in his own ears her broken speech as confirmation of her safety. The near silence proves necessary, however, on their treacherous hike. The company walk with outstretched arms and leery steps through the smoke, careful not to lunge forward into a tree or onto unstable footing through the sandy patch of desert where Tessa had carried the Banji. No one mentions Rolace as they leave his web behind them, the misery of his murder a lump in the throat, the clenching of fists and the gritting of teeth. The man-spider who, at first sight, made Archie’s heart arrest between beats, had proved tremendously invaluable on their mission to find Ella.

  A day into their journey west, Tessa confirms that Kameelo has safely delivered Ella and Luggie to the Lord of Olearon, though there is a commotion there with the red beings in the glass city that Ella does not understand. Archie looks uncomfortable at the news, though Ella’s safety renews Tessa’s pace and, as politely as she can, Tessa warns Lady Sophia that there will be no more frequent rest breaks. The singer shrugs, but offers no promises.

  THE Maiden’s plan for Lady Sophia had unfolded flawlessly. When the plump singer plummeted into the sea with a loud splash and had not resurfaced, the Olearons had earned, however guarded, the trust of the Bangols. They had acquired precious information within Tuggeron’s chamber—such as a secret ore mine in the north—that they hoped would ripen to their advantage in the sunrises to come. Little did the stone-heads know, however, that Harry and Donna had been waiting. The transformed humans relished the chance to use their gills, to inhale water and swim through the sea as every cell in their Naiu-lined bodies had ached to do since Rolace’s web. They rescued Lady Sophia and lugged her to safety, concealing her in a dip in the beach to the south, behind a boulder from the long-gone fortress, though still within view to watch the happenings on the arching stone bridges.

  Harry and Donna had also swum to the aid of Azkar and Nameris, though their fall had not been part of the Maiden’s strategy. The two Olearon warriors were carried away from the shore on a fitful wave caused by the Maiden’s explosive combustion. Donna and Harry had breathed air into their lungs and towed them to where Lady Sophia sat, peeping at the scene, coughing in smoke, and fruitlessly cleaning ash from her gown.

  When the Olearon brothers and Lady Sophia were about to depart the eastern beach, heading inland, Donna and Harry announced that they had decided to remain with the sea. Donna kissed their cheeks in a tearful goodbye, though Harry was all smiles. “I’ve spent my life measuring and calculating at my job, recording golf scores, paying off my car and house—really, I’ve had enough! Beneath the water, the sound is different. It’s peaceful. It feels wrong now to breathe this thin, dry air.”

  The Olearon brothers had bowed their heads to Donna and Harry, in gratitude for saving them, and in respect at their parting. Lady Sophia curtsied. The couple had turned and sprinted into the rip tide with a triumphant splash at their heels before diving, disappearing for a moment, then waving goodbye above the water with their scaly, webbed hands.

  The brothers—and Lady Sophia, who they happily carried in favor of trekking more quickly—were homebound when they caught up to the other half of their company on the path back to the glass city. Azkar and Nameris confirmed the demise of the Maiden—and of the carakwa incarnation of Valarie.

  DESPITE the joyful surprise reunion, Azkar and Nameris have been in mourning since the Maiden’s death. They tell the humans, and Ardenal, of the Maiden’s final words.

  I wish time allowed for me to explain more, though you will surely see, soon enough. Many regrets do I have. Alas, we will see each other at the glass city. I am going now—to be with my love.

  “Her spirit will be with the Lord,” Nameris says before reigniting his flame with Ardenal’s help. Azkar does the same.

  The three red-skinned beings follow Tessa on the journey back to their home, striding shoulder to shoulder, harmonizing in the Olearon lament of the dead.

  Even three full days away from the eastern beach—where Kameelo’s flame set the white forest ablaze—the smoke is dense. The company find themselves still within a sheet of white, claustrophobic and even, without variance in its pervasiveness. It brings the company to the edge of oblivion, nearly erasing the landscape so that they march through a purgatory of nothingness. Before that expedition west, Archie had thought of white as pure and clean and clear. The white of the smoke from the now ash forest, on the other hand, is suffocating and hopeless.

  “There! Home!” Azkar calls suddenly and points to the glimmering grey and gold glass, to the crystaliths, and the Olearons’ gentle hill.

  The company had not noticed the break between days and nights. Their eyes had not perceived the change of color which marked the ending of the whitewood and the beginning of the blue. Nor even did they comprehend the thinning of the smoke, or that their noses were free of the stench of it—until now. Now as they find themselves on the edge of the field that spans the land between the blue forest and the glass city.

  “Almost there, Ella,” Tessa whispers.

  Mom! I’m coming!

  They dash across the uneven field where Zeno and Ardenal had battled and the Bangol ripped root from earth. They avoid the chasm to the south. There, on the outskirts of the city, a group of red-skinned beings gathers with tall, black-eyed children at their knees. At their center, stands the Lord of Olearon. He wears iron-lined, beveled glass armor with a cape of champagne-gold silk affixed to each pointed epaulet that drapes down his back. His sleeves are fitted and long, like the corrugated folds of his robes that fall from his waist to the earth. The Lord of Olearon shows no skin—unlike when he and his warriors, in matching blue jumpsuits, laid siege to the Odyssey—but for his stern red face.

  Suddenly, an awkward shriek splits the air. Ella squeezes through the crowd and darts toward Tessa.

  Archie’s heart soars and—despite the pain and the sacrifices, and the loss of lives which he will never forgive himself for—he feels that his singular mission of finding Arden and reuniting his family is complete. His granddaughter’s smile is brilliant as she sprints toward them, though her face has thinned and her boney fingers quiver. Ella’s illness is never far from his mind. In that moment, however, Arc
hie refuses to wonder how long their closeness will endure.

  Chapter 52

  “Oh, Ella! I am so glad you’re safe, and that your arm is healing well.”

  You too, Mom . . . Who’s this?

  Ardenal approaches to stand at Tessa’s side, with a beaming Archie close behind. Tessa pauses to look at the Olearon before speaking. “Well, Ella, this is . . .”

  Wait! I know. It’s Dad!

  Ella’s blue eyes lock on the black ones that stare down at her. She walks up to Ardenal and takes his hands. She pulls him toward her, where Ardenal kneels so they are on the same level. Ella touches the smooth rosy skin of his cheeks before lunging toward him in an embrace that sends out a burst of fire from Ardenal’s hair. Archie rests his hands on Ella’s and Ardenal’s shoulders. The old man looks at his family, speechless, tears glinting between his wrinkly lids.

  Tell him I love him, Mom. Tell Dad I’ve missed him and that I love him.

  “She wants you to know—” Tessa’s voice quivers “—Ella says she missed you and she loves you.”

  “I love you, my sweet Ell. And I have missed you—with an ache in my heart that nearly tore me in two. I never meant to leave you. I came to Jarr-Wya for you.”

  “She knows, Arden. I’ve told her what you told me,” says Tessa gently.

  Ardenal nods. “But I’m sorry, Ella. I haven’t found your cure. I forgot the notebook. Grandpa Archie had it when he came to Jarr-Wya, but—but the notes . . . in the half-sunken cruise ship, my research washed away.” Hot tears stream from his black eyes. Ella cups her father’s face once more.

  The Lord of Olearon approaches the haggard company. He gestures with his long graceful hands and his attendants step from behind him and advance toward Tessa, Archie, Duggie-Sky, Nate, Ardenal, Azkar, Nameris, and Lady Sophia. Some attendants carry tall, sparkling crystal goblets filled with a pearly serum, which they encourage the humans and warriors to drink. Other attendants examine the company for injuries with their hot, probing fingers.

  “Despite succeeding at your charge of hunting and decimating the Bangol troop in the east, your actions have failed in eliminating their king or purifying the land,” the Lord begins, his words rich with disappointment, “I do join with you in remembering the perished, and their bravery—” He pauses. “But —wait! There is one unaccounted for. Where is the Bangol, Zeno?” The Lord’s flame surges behind him. Tessa pulls Ella in close, moving a few paces away from the livid Olearon who strides to and fro before them.

  “Zeno deserted us,” Archie steps forward and answers. “He cheered when the Bangols loyal to Tuggeron, his own kind, were wiped out by the carakwas. He stole away not long after, headed north I’m sure. He didn’t reveal his plan to me, but I bet it involves the stone-head king. Zeno didn’t even say goodbye. He just up and ran, right after the Maiden—”

  “You do not need to speak it, human. I know, and she is with me now,” the Lord interrupts, touching his chest. “Her bravery, her sacrifice, will be remembered in our written history, in every age of the Olearons, in every sunset, and as the very blood within my veins until the day I too die, and she and I begin again.”

  Azkar, Nameris, and Ardenal bow low. “Our Lord, our Maiden,” they say together.

  “When the Maiden came to me after her fire devoured the carakwas, she told me of all things. Of Eek’s demise . . .” the Lord shakes his head, “of the Bangols’ plans. Of your thievery, Archibald, which we will discuss in private. And Ella, tell me the truth: do you know anything of a secret compartment? No? Fine. I saw all things through the Maiden’s eyes. I felt her pain in my skin. Her knowledge is now my wisdom. Still, with everything that has transpired, there is no change to Jarr-Wya, no lessening of the poison or lifting of the curse, what your company was halfhearted in accomplishing.”

  Tessa realizes that her initial instinct was right; that saving Ella was never the intention of the Lord. She grits her teeth, loathing the smug, towering Olearon, but stops her tongue. There will come a time when I’ll speak my mind, she muses. She clutches Ella tightly, though her daughter does not appear afraid. Tessa looks to Archie. The forehead of the old man is copiously perspiring. He keeps one hand tucked in his pocket, looking ready to pounce in defense at a moment’s notice.

  “The poison must continue to be conjured and leeched into the land from the north, at the stone fortress of the Bangols,” Azkar reflects. “Where Tuggeron fled when the carakwas—Valarie—descended upon us.” He spits onto the soil.

  “Before disappearing, Zeno told me Tuggeron’s weakness,” offers Archie. “It is his ambition for immortality. This motivates him in everything, even to do what is evil.”

  “Especially that which is evil,” Azkar barks.

  “Tuggeron is bloodthirsty and unpredictable,” Ardenal adds, “but I believe this lust must also blind him. We can use Tuggeron’s weakness to our advantage. Still, he is crafty. We must never take him for a wild-stone king.”

  Nameris steps forward. “The Bangols will expect an attack from the east, from our company,” he says. “Or that the seven-sunset scorching ceremony in the Maiden’s honor will occupy us, perhaps distract us from our pursuit entirely.”

  “The incense for the Maiden burns ever in our city and within our warriors, whether present or in spirit.” The Lord gestures behind him, where teal clouds of sweet-smelling smoke waft into the sapphire abyss. “We do not wait to pursue the Bangols, to wipe them out, king and all. Even their dust I will grind between my teeth.”

  The Lord calls forward his warriors to join him; Azkar, Nameris, and Kameelo—who had swooped in moments before—and others Tessa does not recognize that had hung back upon the company’s return, guarding the Lord. “We must form a new, more capable contingent,” the Lord of Olearon declares, “and shall map a route to pass along the western coast, through the fairy vineyards, to lay siege to the north.”

  “What about Ella’s cure?” Tessa asks, as much to Ardenal as to the Lord.

  “It will be discussed,” the Lord answers curtly. Ardenal nods ever so subtly to Tessa.

  Tessa opens her mouth to continue but Azkar interrupts. “And what of our ship?” he inquires.

  “We will leave it for the Millia to toy with—for now. A ship is of no use if the Bangol’s poison makes our kind too weak to sail it. We will return for it or rebuild when our strength is renewed. For now, we have the rafts, though their speed is no match. Our focus, our mission, must be turned to our home, our land, and our health.” An attendant produces a map. “Ah yes, let us chart our course. Warriors, gather.”

  “Where is Luggie?” Tessa whispers to Ella, keeping an eye on the Lord. She adds, Is he safe here?

  The Lord told me how the Maiden showed him what she saw: Tuggeron beating Luggie before he slipped away to our boat, before he saved me. I think the Lord understands that Luggie is different—different from the other Bangols, I mean. The Olearons have been nice to him, Mom. But Luggie won’t talk, not even to me. Even when he was forced to sit still as the Olearon nurse stitched the place where his ear was blown off, I couldn’t get him to tell me what I could do to help. He won’t look me in the eyes. He only lays there on the bed, tucked beneath the blankets in his glass room. I’m scared. I don’t know if he’s eating . . . Why is Captain Nate looking at you like that? What’s going on, Mom?

  Tessa turns and notices Nate’s protective gaze. Ardenal also stares at Tessa over his shoulder—distracted from the warriors’ huddle—with equal, though dejected affection. She mouths the words not now to them both. “I feel . . .” Tessa admits in a whisper as she looks back to Ella “. . . so confused.” Ella squints. “But that’s not important now. All that matters is you. I want us to cherish every moment we have together.”

  Sheesh, Mom. You’re so fatalistic. I’m not dead yet. Plus, I think I know something that may help with my mortality problem. Can you tell Dad?

  “Arden, Archie,” says Tessa, interrupting the Lord and warriors, and Archie, who was informing an
Olearon attendant of Duggie-Sky’s wounds. “Arden, Ella just told me that she read your notebooks.”

  “What? When?” Archie blurts.

  “When you were supposedly on grandpa-duty, watching her after school.” Tessa raises an eyebrow at Archie, who shrugs guiltily.

  “Ella told me she read about a cure, but didn’t know that it was for her. She doesn’t remember the words, only the pictures. She said that she can draw them for us. Ella agrees with the Bangols, with Luggie; they are not the ones poisoning the island. It’s the Star! That’s what has changed here, on Jarr-Wya. That’s what created the Millia in the first place and crazed the Bangols and destroyed the soil. It’s the Star! Ella wants to show us what she remembers. I believe her, Arden, Archie. Lord—” Tessa turns to the Lord of Olearon, who has halted the deliberations with his warriors, who now all listen intently as she relays Ella’s message. “I believe you are fighting the wrong enemy,” Tessa finishes, convinced that she cannot trust the Lord as she had the Maiden, though for the time she must pretend.

  “Get her paper! A pen! A paintbrush!” Ardenal beseeches the attendants. At first, they do not budge. Then the Lord—after pausing reflectively, as if looking inward—nods and gestures to the glass city and the attendants speed toward it.

  “The Maiden agrees,” the Lord answers. “She found the human child’s sketchbook. Such perceptive beauty, the Maiden tells me, was painted on its pages. At this very moment, I am flipping through the book in my mind, seeing the artwork for myself through her memories. A shame it was destroyed in the Maiden’s flame. In whatever way the cure for this young one, this Ella, may be connected with the Star, with Jarr-Wya—we must waste no time in finding out!”

  Tessa is startled and speechless at first. She had not anticipated the Lord’s willingness to listen. “Thank you,” she mumbles. Maybe he will be an ally, not an adversary, moving forward, Tessa hopes.

 

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