The Falling Star (The Trianon Series Book 1)

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The Falling Star (The Trianon Series Book 1) Page 7

by J. A. Comley


  “Calm yourself, Flek. You know Gaby will want proof, and more,” Rya said, her voice serious.

  Starla just gaped, dumbfounded by the creature's super-fast speech, as two 'pops' echoed in quick succession.

  “If you listen really carefully, you might catch some words,” giggled a tiny voice above Starla's head.

  Starla looked up too quickly and felt a muscle in her neck spasm.

  Above her, floated a small thing that looked like an oversized, grey cotton ball. It had one big, brown eye and four pink wings.

  “Sorry. Biki gets excited with strangers,” said one of the new arrivals.

  Catalogue. It doesn't need to make sense. Starla hoped her mind wasn't about to snap from the strain.

  The one who spoke wore her hair up in two high pigtails and a short, tiered, pink dress with a hole cut out between the bust line and hips. Her boots reached up to her thighs and her gloves stopped at the wrist.

  “I'm Lua. Biki, here, is a flinto. What is your companion?” Lua said, indicating towards a barely-conscious Aimee, just visible inside the sling.

  Thanks for the clarification, Starla thought sarcastically, watching the strange creature float backwards through the air, her wings seeming to beat too slowly to keep her airborne.

  With another deep breath, Starla tried again. “She's a sparrowhawk and she really—”

  “Lua!” the final Sacrileon called, interrupting Starla, her voice full of command. The others were already waiting at her side.

  With one last smile, Lua bounded off back to join them, the stencilled, yellow spirals on her dark skin glittering faintly.

  The commanding Sacrileon began to speak as soon as Lua joined them, a liquid-sounding language flowing off her tongue. Starla fought the urge to tell them they were being rude and instead began to muster her thoughts into a coherent order. Aimee, first. Food and water, second. Finding someone who might know her family, third. And all the other millions of questions after that. As she marshalled her thoughts, she took in the final Sacrileon. She wore a green dress, asymmetrically cut, with the longest end falling short of her knees, similar to the others.

  Must be the fashion here, she thought.

  The dress's single sleeve reached over her left shoulder. Stencilled pink flowers adorned her body and her curly, white hair hung loose to her waist. Suddenly, Starla realised the talking had stopped. All four Sacrileons had their violet eyes fixed on her.

  The green-clad one stepped forward.

  “I am Gaby. Head Guardian of Rainbow Wood.” She gestured vaguely at the surrounding trees. “You are strangers to this wood. And uninvited. Describe to me how you got here.”

  Summoning her courage, Starla looked up at Gaby. “Pleasure to meet you. I am Starla, and this is—”

  “I already know all that. I want to know only how you got here.” Gaby folded her arms, impatience carved into her obsidian face.

  Starla felt her cheeks warming, the inner fire that had burst out last night flickered higher at Gaby's tone. “It doesn't matter how I got here, right now. Aimee, my sparrowhawk, is badly hurt. She may be dying. Now, can you help or not?”

  The three Sacrileons behind Gaby looked at Starla wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Gaby looked like a thunderhead. Starla took an involuntary step backwards as a black hand snapped towards her. The ground under her feet heaved and she was thrown forward. Landing painfully on her knees, she looked up at the Guardian looming above her, cursing the tears pricking her eyes.

  “She's dying,” Starla murmured, holding up a barely breathing Aimee. “Please.”

  “Gaby—” Lua began, edging forward.

  Gaby's hand flashed out again and a bright light suddenly enveloped Aimee, bringing her to hover at shoulder height. Starla got to her feet, with a little help from Lua, all the while watching Gaby. She barely noticed that Lua's touch was warm and soft, not at all like the cold stone her skin resembled. Gaby's eyes were shut and her hands moved in front of her.

  “Your companion will heal,” Rya said, joining Lua and Starla. “Now, please, answer Gaby truthfully and swiftly. She has little patience of late.”

  Gaby's eyes opened and she guided the sphere into Starla's out-stretched hands.

  “She will sleep for a few hours but all her injuries are healed,” Gaby said, “I am not linked with fauna, but in my wood I may grant a newcomer a boon. That was hers.”

  “Thank you,” Starla said, not understanding half of what had been said. Then, taking Rya's advice, she ploughed on immediately. “We came from Arreau in France. Er, on Earth,” she tacked on as all but Rya exchanged confused looks. “I'm not sure how we got here. My only explanation is we did so by wishing on this.” She held up the star.

  Their reaction was completely unexpected. Lua began skipping around, saying something about prophecy, while Alli and Rya were talking urgently, though Starla could only catch a few words in their rush.

  “Impossible … all murdered.” Alli was shaking her head, the blue droplets on her skin shimmering.

  “… survive … not lost—” Rya spoke almost on top of Alli, fiddling with a yellow glove.

  “Silence.” Gaby's voice was soft as a breeze, but all talking stopped instantly. She, herself, had not said a word, only eyed Starla suspiciously. “Together.”

  A sudden flash of light hit the star dead on, as four pairs of hands flashed outward. It sounded like a gong being struck. Starla hissed as one of points pierced her palm.

  Gaby nodded thoughtfully as the echoes died away, ignoring Starla's hiss. “Whatever she is doesn't matter. That amulet is real. It needs to reach the Inagium Queen.”

  “Gaby, if she summoned it, she must be Soreiaphin,” Alli began, despite the angry set of Gaby's jaw.

  “She could be a protector,” Rya said thoughtfully. “But then she should be insubstantial.”

  “It doesn't matter,” Gaby stated again.

  “Look. Thank you for helping Aimee but I'm standing right here. Could you please explain what is—” Starla began, making sure the star wasn't damaged.

  Blood from her wound had dripped across the back and as Starla tried to wipe it off, she noticed faint letters begin to etch themselves into the surface.

  “'Within … heart of fire, light … relinquished, and through sel … forged',” Starla murmured. It made no sense. Some words must be on the missing piece.

  “What did you say?” Rya said, her voice a whisper too. Then her eyes widened as they spotted the writing on the star. “Has that writing always been there?”

  “No, it just appeared now. I was trying to wipe the blood off.” She held up her injured palm as an explanation, still focused on the words that were now deeply etched and plainly visible.

  “Her blood revealed the key. See?” Lua rejoiced, pig-tails bouncing.

  Gaby alone looked unimpressed. “Do any of you sense any magic in her at all?”

  “But Soreiaphin magic is different. We—” Alli began, playing with the long, orange ribbon on her skirt.

  “We should still be able to detect it, linked to Ezira as we are.”

  The others shook their heads slowly, almost sadly.

  Starla watched their awe turn to disappointment and knew she was missing some key information. “I would appreciate an explanation. Now, if—”

  “No. You need to come with us. That amulet is not yours. It can't be,” Gaby cut in, harshly, looking as if she half-intended to rip it from Starla's throat, herself.

  Starla felt her anger rising again as she pointedly tucked the star under her nightdress but her retort was cut short by a loud crackling that filled the air.

  “Run!” Gaby ordered, launching herself out of the glade, sudden fear widening her eyes.

  “Please, Starla! Quickly!” Lua said, as Alli and Rya each took one of Starla's arms and lifted her a foot off the ground. “We will take you to Galatia's Capitol. The Inagium Queen knows much. We must see her!” She had to shout to be heard over the crackling.

  Starla did
n't trust them, not even Lua, who appeared genuinely friendly but the urgency in their voices and the fear in their eyes was unmistakable. Something bad was coming. Very bad.

  And I need my answers. She stopped struggling as they took off after Gaby.

  ***

  “Starla!” Father Joaquin yelled again. His throat felt raw from all the hours of shouting. Ever since Guy's dogs had begun barking in the pre-dawn, he had known Starla was gone. Oddly, Mia had confirmed that nothing was missing from Starla's wardrobe, or her room, for that matter. Nothing gone except her shawl, an old lantern and her baby bracelet. Even the picture of her family with her mother's note on the back still lay beside the box on the kitchen table.

  “Anything yet, Father?” called Raoul, stumbling out of Thorn Wood. His arms and face were badly scratched from his hours of searching in those brambles and thorn trees. His leather jerkin had protected his clothes.

  “No.” Father Joe shook his head, the pain on Raoul's face mirrored the one trying to consume him.

  Together, they headed to back to the parish house. All the while Raoul was muttering to himself, “She promised me. She promised.”

  He had been saying that over and over ever since Guy had woken him straight after Starla was discovered gone. He knew Guy had thought they would run off together. Father Joe, instead, had raced off to the Salsos' estate, hoping that a distraught Starla had gone to seek the comfort of her best friend. A fool's hope.

  “Have Elise and Antonio returned?” Father Joe asked Mia as he stepped through into the kitchen. She shook her head. “No, but Pierre has. He is with Guy now.” Her voice was rough and her red-rimmed eyes spoke of yet more tears shed. As she finished, the two men in question strode in, looking defeated.

  The parish house clock on the wall of the kitchen showed it was nearly a quarter to ten. They had been at this for nearly six hours. When Elise and Antonio entered the parish kitchen, the hands had barely moved, but to Father Joe, an eternity had passed.

  “Davan, Orla,” Raoul said in surprise as the two followed the newly-weds into the kitchen.

  “What are you two doing here?” growled Guy, turning from Father Joe. He had found no sign of Starla along any of the river paths either.

  “We came to apologise. We hadn't intended—” Davan quailed under the potency of Father Joe's stare, his recitation trailing off.

  “Please, everyone,” Antonio said, nudging Davan behind him, “After you left our house, Father, they had a good talking to. They say that they really are sorry.”

  “Sorry? That doesn't change anything.” He winced as his words reminded him of Starla's anger last night. “But we'll see if they truly are repentant,” Father Joe said, drawing himself up to full height.

  “We are. We came to help,” Orla piped up.

  “Never mind that!” Raoul snapped, able to wait no more. “Sister, did you find anything? Any trace of her through town? Anyone who saw anything?”

  Elise hesitated a moment. Raoul looked truly tortured. “No, brother. None of the paths or trails leaving Arreau show any sign of her, or anyone. No one has seen her since yesterday.”

  Raoul stumbled back and landed heavily in a chair.

  “Guy?” Antonio turned to the caretaker. “My father has offered his best bloodhounds to search for her. If we could have something of Mademoiselle Marvou's, and if would you be willing to lead one of the two parties—”

  “Yes, of course. Mia?”

  Mia hurried upstairs and returned with two scraps of Starla's ruined bridesmaid dress.

  “Will these do?” she asked.

  Guy nodded and hurried out the door, saying he would return with his sons.

  Raoul jumped to his feet. “The grove!”

  “Of course!” Pierre said, bounding to his feet with new energy.

  Catching everyone's puzzled looks, Raoul explained, quickly, trying to herd them out of the door.

  “Many times before, when Starla wanted to think, she would head to the very edge of the fruit grove here. And we haven't bothered to check! We automatically assumed she had left, gone far away. I knew she wouldn't break her word!” With that, he dashed past the others, racing for the grove.

  “She would have heard you all calling if she—” Antonio began, changing course as he caught the glimmer of hope in his wife's eyes, too. “But we may as well check anyway.”

  “Yes, she may have been hurt,” Elise said, “Come on, we'll each take a row.” She guided each Salso to a different row of trees.

  Father Joe sighed. It was a long shot. Another foolish hope. How many more times would his heart swell with hope and then wither with despair when the hope proved unfounded? He looked over at Mia. She didn't look up to handling yet another failed search.

  “Mia, would you be so kind as to prepare a meal of some sort? I do not believe any of us have eaten since supper last night.” He gave a weak smile. If everyone felt as he did, eating was not an important need at the moment.

  “Yes, Starla will be starving. Poor dear,” Mia mumbled, going back into the kitchen, tears streaking down her cheeks again. Shaking his head, Father Joe ran off to join the search in the grove.

  “Father Joaquin!” Raoul's panicked shout came from the furthest edge of the grove a few minutes later. “Elise!”

  “You found her? Is she hurt?” Father Joe answered, half-tripping his way to Raoul in his haste.

  “What happened?” The five Salsos joined them, Elise at the head.

  Father Joe took in the scene. The missing lantern lay shattered on the ground. Even the metal frame was warped. His eyes travelled to the white cloth in Raoul's hands.

  “Her shawl,” he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “Any sign of a … of a struggle?” Just the idea was making him sick.

  Mercifully, Raoul shook his head. “No, not really. I found this next to the shawl.” He held up a thin gold chain with a bright red flower pendant hanging from it. “Do you recognise this?” Terrible implications laced the simple question.

  “I don't recognise it.” Father Joe turned the flower over in his hand. He shook his head to clear it of ideas of kidnap and worse. Raoul took the necklace back and slipped it into his inner shirt pocket.

  “What do you make of this?” Antonio asked. He had moved closer and was now pointing behind Raoul.

  “That is where I found the shawl and necklace. In there,” Raoul said, stepping aside to reveal the shallow crater.

  Father Joe's breath caught in his throat, all ideas of kidnap and secret lovers vanishing. The thought that replaced them was impossible.

  He felt as if he were sleepwalking as he edged forward to peer inside the little crater. The soil had turned pitch black and embedded in it glittered a thousand multi-coloured shards of stone.

  “You recognise this,” Antonio stated, eyeing the old priest curiously.

  “Yes,” Father Joe said, almost to himself, as he picked up a handful of shards. “There were some of these shards inside her stone basket on the night we found her. But that crater looks like a meteor strike, just, small.” He shook his head in disbelief. It was impossible.

  “You never said what happened to her basket,” Raoul said. He understood nothing about meteors and craters, but perhaps a link could be made by examining the basket.

  “It crumbled. After everything was removed from it, it turned to dust.” He let the fragments of colourful rock fall.

  As they hit the ground, a loud crackling began to fill the air, coming from every angle as if they were all trapped in a burning house. The twins yelled for their older brother and Father Joe realised that he could no longer see any of the others. As if he stood alone in the grove. Black holes were appearing all over the horizon, like someone ripping holes in a canvas.

  A wave of dizziness hit Father Joe and he collapsed, noises of the others' falling drifted to him through the now-pure black. It was growing hot, too hot. Feeling smothered, Father Joe tried to crawl away but found himself lying on his back. Above him
, a small, red light appeared. It seemed to be getting closer. A mirthless laughter filled Father Joe's ears as the light grew brighter. As if from far away, he heard a deep, resounding crack, like the earth itself was tearing apart, and a woman screaming. Mia.

  The air felt thick. Too thick to breathe. Closing his eyes, Father Joe struggled in vain to take another breath when the laughter suddenly died. Opening his eyes, the darkness was gone. Father Joe wished it would return. He was staring into two dark eyes. The eyes of the devil.

  ***

  Starla was lagging even further behind, now. They had put her down after the crackling noise had stopped but Alli had insisted that they keep running. For all that the Guardian's clothing was indecent, it was certainly better for running through a forest than her long night dress, even with its new rip. Neither was she as agile as the four. Ahead of her, she saw them leap, as graceful as deer, over a small stream. Mercifully, they stopped on the other side.

  “There's a rune hollow a little further on,” Gaby was saying as Starla arrived on their side of the stream, her feet wet because the water had poured through the holes in her boots. “We can sleep there. It should be safe from unfriendly eyes.”

  “Even his eyes?” Lua's voice trembled, her violet eyes still wide with fear.

  Gaby gave her one disapproving look before she headed off towards a root hollow, Rya following not far behind.

  Starla was gasping for breath, clutching a stitch in her side. The sun was almost completely set, the dim light in the forest coming mostly from the trees, now. Her vision swam as dizziness from lack of food and water threatened to drown her.

  Water? Starla hastily knelt by the stream. “Is this safe to drink?” she asked, already scooping a handful of water.

  “Yes,” Lua answered, glancing at Gaby's retreating figure.

  “Why are you all still afraid?” she asked between gulps of water. They couldn't deny it. Their eyes darted everywhere, their ears twitching in response to sounds Starla couldn't hear.

  She stood up, feeling annoyed that not even Lua seemed likely to answer.

 

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