Heartlight

by T.A. Barron

  “I wonder what it holds,” said Kate.

  “Something very special, I suspect,” Grandfather replied, his voice filled with anticipation. “I didn’t see anything like this when I flew near the surface with Orpheus.”

  “Could it be something that could help the Sun?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Look!” cried Kate as they crossed above the rim. “Look at all those rows of bright green! But what—hey! What’s that?”

  As they flew above the fiery bowl, dozens of flat yellow creatures that glowed strangely became visible against the scarlet red background of the interior floor. The creatures glided busily to and fro across the radiant green rows lining the bowl, like farmers tending a fertile field.

  Grandfather shook his head in amazement. “Those beings are huge! I would guess each one is at least the size of France! What are they?”

  “They are Celethoes,” answered the Voice. “They live in only two dimensions, so they can be seen only from above or below. Most stars have a few of them, but only the greatest stars have more than that. And no star in the universe has as many Celethoes as Trethoniel.”

  “And what are they growing?” asked Grandfather, eyeing the luminous rows of green.

  “Pure condensed light,” thundered the Voice, allowing each syllable to reverberate among the clouds.

  Anxiously, Kate squeezed Grandfather’s hand.

  “It is the rarest element in existence,” boomed the Voice, “a substance every star needs to survive. With it, a star will radiate life-giving light across the heavens. Without it, a star will surely die and go dark forever.”

  “That’s—” Kate began.

  “Quiet!” commanded Grandfather. “Let me think. Your Celethoes … could they be making PCL by breeding some derivative of the hydrogen isotope? Something like deuterium or tritium?”

  “A good guess for a beginner, Doctor Miles Prancer. But the pure condensed light they are making is not related to the hydrogen isotopes capable of nuclear fusion. Such primitive materials I have long ago abandoned. My pure condensed light, unique in all the universe, contains free photons, twin neutrinos, and properties far beyond your comprehension.”

  Kate watched the graceful movements of the Celethoes. They seemed to be spinning threads of glowing filament from their own bodies, then weaving them tenderly through the rows in a methodical manner. Tiny pinnacles of illuminated green dotted the endless furrows: fresh PCL emerging from long incubation.

  “And your Celethoes,” probed Grandfather, “are they your only source of PCL?”

  “No!” declared the Voice. “Over the ages I have developed many other sources.”

  “Such as?”

  “I have no desire to tell you,” bellowed the reply. “Even if I chose to tell you, it would take ten thousand of your lifetimes to explain, and then you would still not understand me.”

  Kate bristled at the Voice’s tone.

  Grandfather, however, seemed unperturbed. “With so much PCL available to you,” he continued, “how can you be in any danger?”

  “Because,” the Voice rumbled, “I need something else to survive—something more precious even than pure condensed light.”

  “What could that be?” asked Grandfather, quite puzzled.

  “In time!” roared the Voice. “I shall tell you when I am ready, when you will learn how to help me. But do not expect me to explain all my secrets to lesser beings like yourselves. I do not have time, and your tiny mortal minds could never comprehend more than a fraction of my creation.”

  Kate tried to contain her rising pique, but her thoughts betrayed her. “Who says we’re lesser beings? Just because we might live for a shorter time. Aren’t we all part of the same big Pattern?”

  “Fool!” bellowed the Voice, with such force that the globe jolted and both Kate and Grandfather fell to their knees. “Contemptible fool! I do not need to listen to your childish babble. Trethoniel is the only place of perfection in all the universe!”

  Grandfather squeezed her hand urgently.

  “Forgive her, Great Star,” he called into the mists. “She does not understand.”

  Kate’s mind was whirling with images of The Darkness, the terrible tail, the scorched desert of Nel Sauria … These were not her idea of perfection. Why didn’t Grandfather understand?

  “But—” she objected meekly.

  “Not now, Kaitlyn!”

  “Silence!” commanded the Voice, barely suppressing its rage. “I tolerate her ignorance only because she travels with you, Doctor Miles Prancer.”

  Kate cast a frightened look at Grandfather. Then her eyes fell to the fiery bowl below them.

  Something had changed. By some silent command, the Celethoes had ceased in their labors. They were gathering together in the center of the red valley, their bodies glowing brightly as they slid across the fields to their destination. There, they formed a circle, a circle of connected light.

  “The perfection of Trethoniel is under attack,” the Voice rumbled. “Ignorant Celethoes may continue to perform their labors, hiding the impending tragedy from even themselves, but that does not alter the essential truth. Unless something is done swiftly, unless I can obtain the one thing I need, the greatest star in the universe will soon produce no more light and no more music.” There was a somber silence before the Voice uttered its final sentence. “Trethoniel is about to die.”

  As the words echoed across the starscape, all fell still. Even the wailing wind seemed to hold its breath as the phrase about to die hung heavily upon it.

  Then came another sound, subtle and struggling to be heard. Faint though it was, Kate recognized it immediately.

  “The music!”

  The unmistakable chords rose delicately to them, like the scent of a distant lilac bush on a gentle breeze. Harmonious was the song, and full of healing. Joyful, and full of peace. As Kate drank in the lovely music, she heard something which had eluded her before. Pain too ran through the melody, and tragedy as well. Yet, on some deeper level, the joy seemed to embrace the pain, as the peace accepted the tragedy. The power of the music was all the more profound because of it.

  “The music—it’s coming from the Celethoes!” cried Kate. She pointed to the shining circle below them, which seemed to swell in luminosity as the music swelled in strength. “They’re trying to tell us something. I know they are. I can feel it.”

  Then a sudden turmoil filled the air. Kate caught a glimpse of a dark form gathering in the faraway mists.

  “The Darkness!” she screamed in panic. “It’s The Darkness!”

  Just then she felt the terrible coldness reaching into her. An evil energy, even more powerful than before, began squeezing her tightly.

  “H-help!” she gasped, reaching frantically for Grandfather’s outstretched arm. “I’m being str-stran-gled!”

  “Away with you,” thundered the Voice. “Leave her alone!”

  The music grew dimmer as did the circle of light below them, until finally both were extinguished. Heavy clouds surrounded the great globe, and the sky darkened ominously. The serpentine form of The Darkness encircled them, drawing its vengeful noose of anti-light tighter and tighter.

  “Save us, Trethoniel!” pleaded Grandfather. “Get us out of here!”

  But the great globe did not move. Only the muffled groans of the Voice came struggling back from beyond the clouds.

  Fear flooded Kate as she fought to breathe—desperately forcing herself to inhale. “I want to live,” she sputtered with all her remaining strength.

  The cold pressure inside her chest only increased. It was closing in on her, suffocating her, squeezing the life out of her heartlight.

  Now The Darkness was circling so close that Grandfather could see the electric red eye, sizzling with currents of negative energy.

  “Leave her alone!” he cried.

  Kate coughed uncontrollably. Her hands grabbed her own throat, and she fell to her side, wrestling with an unseen force. She couldn�
�t breathe at all.

  Then, suddenly, she went completely limp.

  “Stop!” screamed Grandfather as he scooped her into his arms. “Leave her alone, whatever you are!”

  The entire sky flamed brightly, then went totally dark. At the same instant, Grandfather felt Kate’s unconscious form disintegrate into nothingness. His arms were empty.

  “Kate!” he cried, tears streaming down his face. “Where are you?” He groped madly in the blackness to find her.

  In time, a dim light returned to the starscape. The Darkness had vanished, and so had Grandfather’s last shred of hope. He collapsed in a heap in the center of the great globe, weeping bitterly.

  Kate was gone.

  XIV

  The Promise

  Kaitlyn, dear Kaitlyn,” the old man sobbed. “Why did you have to follow me? Why did I ever make two rings? Oh, my dear, dear child … I am sorry.”

  With utter finality, three weighty words thundered across the clouds. “She … is … lost.”

  Grandfather slowly sat upright. He wiped his tear-washed face with his sleeve, struggling to regain a measure of composure. “What? What did you say?”

  “She is lost,” rumbled the reply. “Her heartlight has been extinguished.”

  “Extinguished!” cried Grandfather. “No! God, no!”

  He placed his face in his two weathered hands. “It should have been me. Not her. Not my little Kaitlyn.”

  “Doctor Miles Prancer,” spoke the Voice. “Do not despair.”

  He raised his sorrowful head. “Do not despair? But I’ve lost her. The person I most loved! Nothing else in the universe matters to me now.”

  “Something else matters. You also love the star Trethoniel.”

  A white eyebrow lifted. It struck Grandfather that the Voice sounded different than it had before. It was smaller, thinner, as if it had just survived a brutal battle.

  “You love Trethoniel very much. And Trethoniel can still be saved.”

  “I can’t think about anything but Kate,” said Grandfather, shaking his head sadly. “Why didn’t you save her? Why didn’t you save her before she was lost?”

  “I tried to save her. But I could not.” The sky darkened slightly. “The Enemy wanted her badly. And the Enemy is very, very powerful. Never have I fought so hard, Doctor Miles Prancer. But I failed to save her.”

  “Who took her away? Who is the Enemy?”

  “The agents of the Enemy are all around us. They come in many forms, sometimes frightening, sometimes pleasing. Deception is their weapon and destruction is their goal.”

  “Why?” cried Grandfather desperately.

  “Because the Enemy is bent on destroying every star, every source of light in the universe.”

  “Including the Sun?”

  “Including the Sun.”

  “But why did they want Kate?”

  “She wanted the stars to survive! She wanted your Sun to live, and she wanted Trethoniel to live. Despite her vast ignorance, she was on the side of life, not death. She wanted my music to live, and to live forever.”

  “They can’t have her!” protested Grandfather, tears again brimming in his eyes.

  “They already have her,” answered the Voice, some of its former strength returning. “They already have your Sun. But they do not yet have Trethoniel.”

  “Nothing else matters, now that Kate is gone.”

  “All life matters,” the Voice replied. “And no life matters so much as the great star Trethoniel.”

  “Yes, of course, all life matters,” said the old man halfheartedly. “But now that Kate is gone—”

  “There is still time,” roared the Voice. “There is still time to save the star you most love. But we must act together. And we must act swiftly.”

  Grandfather bowed his head in despair. “Nothing has any meaning for me anymore. Not even helping Trethoniel.”

  “Then do it for her. Do it for the young one. She wanted the music of Trethoniel to survive, to ring forever throughout the heavens. Helping me is helping her.”

  Slowly, the white head lifted. Clumsily, Grandfather regained his feet. His eyes were filled with sadness, but that sadness now mixed with his rising rage.

  “Can we still stop the Enemy from destroying Trethoniel?”

  “Perhaps,” came the thunderous reply. “If we act now.”

  Grandfather’s anger distilled into determination. “What can I do? How can I help you?”

  For a long moment, the winds were utterly silent.

  “You can lend me something,” boomed the Voice.

  “What can I lend you?”

  “You can lend me your heartlight.”

  Grandfather winced, as if he had been struck by some object. “My—my heartlight? Great Star, you of all beings know that heartlight cannot be loaned! It can only be given, as an act of free choice. But once given it can never be returned. My heartlight would belong to you forever.”

  The winds whistled ominously.

  “You are correct.”

  “But you’re asking me—”

  “—to make the greatest sacrifice any mortal being can make. Yes! To give up your individual heartlight forever. There is only one purpose that can justify such a request: the purpose of saving Trethoniel.”

  “So the precious substance you need is heartlight!” exclaimed Grandfather.

  “Yes,” answered the Voice. “A small dose of heartlight is the one thing I need, the one thing I lack. And I must have it soon, or the Enemy will destroy me.”

  “But I don’t understand, Great Star! How can my heartlight be so important to you? Why is a little heartlight so much more necessary to your survival than all the PCL you are manufacturing?”

  “Because,” rumbled the Voice, “pure condensed light only prolongs life, while heartlight—heartlight is life itself. Pure condensed light has strengthened my body, but the darkest danger I face is to my soul. And the danger is upon me. Only heartlight can save me now.”

  “But why?” pressed Grandfather. “I still don’t understand.”

  “You need only understand one thing.” The Voice sounded closer, almost on top of Grandfather. “Trethoniel is now balanced on the thinnest edge of extinction. There is very little time left. All my beauties and marvels, all my music and light, will be destroyed forever—just like the young one—unless you help me. Even now, the Enemy is gathering for a final attack. You can make the crucial difference, Doctor Miles Prancer.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “I will tell you only what you need to know,” replied the Voice. “The only fact you need to comprehend, which you have already guessed, is that I have labored for eons with all my energies to postpone the ultimate tragedy: that thing called death.”

  A swell of sympathy began to rise in Grandfather. “I know, Great Star. For so many years I have believed you were on the verge of collapse! How you have avoided it for so long is a miracle.” He shook his head dismally. “I can understand your desire to live, to complete your work. You simply want to grow older and wiser, to avoid becoming—”

  “—a black hole,” roared the Voice, and with those words a new layer of darkness descended. “The Infinite Nothing! For eons I have lived in fear of this fate. The more beautiful I grew, the more inescapable it became. I have struggled in vain to avoid it, to find the solution to the terrible flaw that afflicts all living things. But I will struggle no longer. For I have finally discovered the answer to the greatest of all riddles. And I need only one more modicum of heartlight to complete my plan.”

  “So my heartlight will enable you to continue postponing your death?”

  “No!” bellowed the Voice. “Postponement alone would be no success! No success at all! In the end, death would still triumph. No, Doctor Miles Prancer, I do not seek merely to postpone death, like every other living thing in the universe. I seek something far more precious. I seek to avoid death completely.”

  “Avoid death completely!” Grandfather’s eyes opened wide
. “That’s—that’s incredible! That would revolutionize astrophysics … as well as philosophy and religion! It would change everything!”

  “Yes! I have labored for eight billion years to arrive at this moment.”

  “Perhaps,” mused the astronomer, “my own life’s work, brief though it’s been, has also been just a preparation for this moment.”

  “And perhaps the young one’s sacrifice was a necessary part of your preparation,” added the Voice.

  Grandfather jolted. “No! There was no purpose to that—no purpose at all! I would rather have her back than all the stars in the universe. She was lost out of stupidity—my stupidity—and nothing could ever justify it.”

  “I understand your grief,” the Voice replied. “But our time is slipping away! Surely you are wise enough to understand what is at stake here. It is nothing less than the ultimate battle of the universe: the battle between life and death. Even the young one understood that much! Now, we have dallied long enough. Will you give me your heartlight?”

  “If you first tell me how it will enable you to avoid death completely.”

  “Time is wasting! I could not possibly explain it to you in the time we have left. Nor could you understand the answer!”

  “But I must understand at least a little more before I can give up my heartlight forever. It’s such a final thing you are asking.”

  “Far less final than death! If you will not listen to me, then perhaps you will listen to someone else. Someone whose voice you will recognize.”

  “Who is that?”

  All went silent, even the incessant howling of the winds.

  “Who?” demanded Grandfather.

  “It is I,” declared a thin, raspy voice from behind the curtain of clouds.

  Grandfather shook his head in disbelief. “No—it can’t be!”

  “But it is.”

  “Ratchet!”

  A hoarse laughter echoed among the mists. “You look much worse for wear, Prancer. Yet still you made it here. Only fifty years late, but at least you made it. I confess I thought you never would.”