The Stargazers

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The Stargazers Page 21

by Allison M. Dickson


  Oleander laughed. “All of this? I’ve come to set you free of their fraud. You should be grateful to me!”

  Aster’s jaw dropped. “Grateful? But you killed nearly everyone I cared about!”

  “Everyone you cared about? Did I kill your mother? Your precious little kitty cat? I see your little she-loving friend is still breathing. Oh the drama! If I’d raised you, I would have made you a mute.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Why, I just want my potion girl back. Don’t you realize that I’m the only one who ever understood you? You and I, alone in the world against those old bats who wanted to control you like a puppet. But I knew that the prophecy was all lies. I saw it with my eyes, and I vowed to make them pay, to make you mine!”

  The words whirled through Aster’s head. “What…what lies? What did you see?”

  “It doesn’t matter now! It can’t be fixed. Nothing can. Lichen is dead. All that matters is that they feel what I felt, that they pay for their lies!”

  Lichen? Who’s Lichen? Did it matter? She was attempting to reason with a woman who had lost her mind, and that was not part of her plan. That plan didn’t really become clear until she saw that rock hit Iris in the head. Then her mind became as clear as the woods after the opening of the Door.

  “Nanny Lily said I was meant to save the world from you. What do you think of that?”

  Oleander’s eyes widened. “She never said that!”

  “She did. She saw the signs from the moment you were born. Of course, she lied about some things, but not all of it. I’ve learned a lot since I’ve come here. I plan to return the Old Magic to Ellemire and make sure you never have the chance to hurt anyone again.”

  Oleander shuffled forward a few steps, and Aster backed up accordingly.

  “You don’t have the power you think you do. But what Magic you do have will soon be mine.”

  “You’re done, Aunt O. You don’t have anything left. If you come quietly back to Ellemire, I will make sure they show you mercy.”

  Aster felt herself opening to the light of the Old Magic. Or maybe it was more like surrender. Everything she could see was surrounded with a glowing blue nimbus. The dark shadow that had been over her heart was beginning to wane.

  “Child, I always have something left.” Oleander reached down into her dress pocket and pulled out a vial. It contained a black fluid swirling with veins of purple light, and Aster didn’t recognize it. More of Oleander’s dark magic. She tipped the bottle’s contents into her nearly toothless maw and then vanished in a puff of black smoke.

  Aster jumped. “Where did she go? Ruby, watch for her!”

  Ruby, who had been tending to Mama Iris, looked around in a daze. “What?”

  “Miss me?” Oleander whispered from behind her, her voice little more than a whisper. Aster whirled around to see Oleander’s face hanging before hers like a nightmarish apparition before. It disappeared into a fine black mist and her mirthful cackles echoed through the forest, chilling Aster’s blood.

  She ran to Ruby. “Oleander’s taken some kind of vanishing potion. We need to hit her with something when she reappears.”

  Ruby’s eyes searched the forest floor for a second before she leaned down and grabbed a rock. “Got it.”

  “Got what?” Oleander’s face popped into view again only inches from them both. They screamed and jumped back, colliding again with Oleander, who appeared immediately behind them. She felt the old crone’s hand tangle in her hair and a second later, Aster’s head collided with Ruby’s.

  Aster hit the ground in a stunned lump. After the all the knocks on the head earlier in the evening, she was now seeing the world through layers of gauze. Only by the power of the Old Magic did she manage to hold onto consciousness.

  Ruby was out completely.

  She slowly staggered to her feet, fighting the urge to vomit. “You’re a coward, Oleander. If you’re so much better than me, why don’t you fight me hand to hand?”

  A gnarled and liver-spotted hand flashed out, slapping her across the face before it vanished again. “Like this?” The hand appeared again, this time slapping across the other cheek. “Or this one?”

  Aster screamed with fury and snared the assaulting appendage before it could disappear again. She bit down as hard as she could on the finger, tasting dirt and blood, until she felt bare bone against her teeth. Her jaw cramped with the force.

  Oleander’s cries were immense. Her full body appeared before Aster, the effectiveness of her potion lost in the agony. Aster jabbed her in the face with her fist, connecting with Oleander’s bulbous nose and squishing some of the pus-filled lumps that covered it.

  The hag stumbled backward, arms pinwheeling for balance as her calves fetched up against a log. Aster grabbed her by the front of her dress and delivered another blow to her face. She had never punched someone before, but the padded flesh of Oleander’s cheeks and forehead made it easy and painless. However, her next swing landed in thin air as Oleander managed to vanish again.

  Aster screamed in frustration. Her pulse was redlining, causing her vision to narrow to a point. She lurched around the clearing, arms swinging in the hopes of snagging the beastly woman again. “Come… back… here!”

  “Aster?” Ruby was standing up and looking a little wobbly, but otherwise alive.

  Just then, Oleander appeared behind Ruby, hands outstretched and aiming for the girl’s neck.

  “Ruby, get down!” Time slowed to a standstill as Aster flew through the air full tilt and collided with Oleander. Using every last bit of her strength, she pinned the witch to the ground. Oleander writhed like a slippery fish, teeth gnashing.

  What am I doing? What do I do?

  “What you’ve always done.” The voice coming from her mouth wasn’t her own. It was deeper. Wiser. Dahlia, Lily, Iris. “You know what to do. You got to go your own way.” She raised her head to the heavens and called on the Old Magic, the stolen gift, her ethereal chains.

  Clouds parted from the moon, now raised above its ghastly red omen. Its blue-white luminescence spilled upon her face. She felt full to bursting with the light as it surged through every vein, vessel, and pore, cleansing her of her rage, her hate, her grief.

  “From one Stargazer to another, Dear Aunt, as has always been, but shall never again be.”

  Placing her hands on either side of Oleander’s head, she channeled the light through her fingertips, first using it to cleanse the woman’s spirit, and then her body of all defects. Aster gasped as Oleander grew young again before her eyes. The pustules on her skin, the wrinkles, the twisted joints and back—everything that had made her ugly vanished, replaced by a beauty even greater than that she’d had before.

  Her flaxen hair with its loose curls framed a delicate face with eyes soft green like moss.

  Oleander’s screams ceased, and she gazed up at Aster with wide eyes that reflected the starlight. “I’m beautiful again, aren’t I?”

  “You’re more beautiful than anyone or anything in the world,” said Aster, meaning every word.

  Tears welled up in Oleander’s eyes, like morning mist over rolling green hills. “Thank you.”

  “It is not finished, Aunt.”

  Fear briefly disturbed the Oleander’s angelic tranquility, but she nodded anyway. “I know.”

  The Old Magic continued to flow, and Oleander’s screams filled the world. Her body bunched and contracted again. A few moments later, Aster was no longer straddling a full-sized body. Oleander contracted first to child size, then to infant.

  But she couldn’t stop there. Couldn’t stop even if she’d wanted to.

  She was the Old Magic.

  Oleander uttered one final scream in a pitch high enough to shatter glass. Then her vocal cords, at least her human ones, withered away.

  Her skin changed again, going from the purest porcelain white to mottled brown and green. Aster’s grip began to slide as Oleander’s skin became wet and slimy. Her eyes moved farther ap
art, losing their human shape and color, and her nose first broadened and then disappeared into the flesh of her face, becoming two air holes.

  Let go let go! It is done!

  A cloud passed in front of the moon again, blocking its light, and with it the Old Magic. Beneath her hands lay a large but passive toad.

  Are those my hands?

  They looked like her mother’s. Knotted knuckles, liver spots. She tried to stand, but her legs lacked the strength. Her spine lacked the ability to stretch. Every joint in her body felt like it contained broken glass. She stabilized herself against a tree, dug in her fingers, and pulled herself to her feet. The left one was now turned inward, and she wouldn’t be able to walk without help.

  She pulled the toad close to her and sighed with exhaustion. It was now the most important amphibian in the world, and it felt like it weighed a million pounds.

  “Aster?”

  She opened her eyes and turned toward the voice. Ruby was gazing at her, jaw dropped, eyes shiny with a mixture of awe and terror. Aster managed a grin. The skin of her face felt weighted with age.

  “I look like her now, don’t I?” The sound of her voice in her ears was foreign. Shaky and frail, like Lily’s voice.

  Ruby shook her head and pointed to the toad. “You could never look as ugly as that thing. You look…old and wise.”

  Before Aster could respond, a burst of colorful light filled the forest again. She turned to the Tree of Doors to see its trunk opening down the middle. Dahlia stepped through followed by Nanny Lily and Quercus. “Mother!” cried Aster. She tried to hobble over, but Ruby took her by her free arm and helped her.

  Dahlia, well practiced at moving in her bent form, limped over to her daughter, minding the uneven terrain with her cane. “Aster? Oh my sweet girl! What happened to you?” She took Aster into her arms, but Aster held back in order to keep from squishing Oleander.

  Lily stepped out from behind Dahlia and fixed her with a stern glare. “What is the nature of this mess, daft girl?” She surveyed the mess in the woods, but when she saw the gray-haired figure lying on the ground nearby, her face softened. She hobbled over to her sister, her hands shaking.

  “Oh dear Grah,” she whispered. “I wanted to see her one more time… Now it will have to be in the next life.”

  Aster walked to Lily and placed a hand on her quivering shoulder. “I wouldn’t be alive right now if it hadn’t been for her.”

  “Tell us everything,” Dahlia said.

  Aster held out the toad. “This is Oleander. She is due for the Giving Altar.”

  Nanny Lily’s eyes widened and she grabbed Aster hard by the shoulder. “She’s what? What did you do?”

  “What needed to be done.” She pulled away and surveyed both women. “You’ve both lied to me, but it ends here. I will take Oleander to the Giving Altar and return the Old Magic to Ellemire.”

  Nanny Lily sneered. “You ignorant girl. Do you expect us to believe you have turned your aunt into a toad?”

  “I am just like you now. I have earned my place among you as elders, and you will hear me, and you will believe me!” Her new voice cracked in the upper register but was no weaker for it. The other women and even Quercus took a step back. “We are thieves no more. We are liars no more. We don’t belong in Ellemire. We should have been exiled centuries ago.” She pointed toward the Tree of Doors. “I will cross over to make the sacrifice, but you will stay here. When I return, this will be our new home.”

  Dahlia took a cautious step toward her. It was as if she thought her own daughter would strike her dead. “Aster, this cannot be. We are of Ellemire.”

  Aster shook her head. “No. We are outcasts there, but we will not be shunned here.” She turned to Ruby. “Take these two back to Oasis house. Quercus and I will meet you there when this is done.”

  Nanny Lily rose up to her full height, crooked back and all. There was a day when Aster would have shrunk to half her size if she saw Lily rear up in such a way, but those days were gone now. “I would rather die by my own hand than live in this putrid hellhole. You can’t stop me from going back. I will call down all the fires of heaven and stomp on your ashes first.” She summoned a ball of flame in her hand.

  “Mother!” cried Dahlia.

  Aster held out her hand and took a deep breath and reached out her hand. The ball of fire in Lily’s hand grew bigger and bigger, until it took the form of a dragon. Its heat was more immense than the hottest blacksmith’s oven, but it didn’t burn any of them. It would, however, if she commanded it to.

  “If you would rather die, so be it. I can make it quick.”

  Nanny Lily’s eyes widened with fear and the ball of flame in her hand extinguished. She eyed the Tree of Doors, and sighed with resignation but said nothing more. Aster called away the flame dragon, but the imprint of its light remained.

  Lily let Dahlia guide her toward the car. The two women were as solemn as a funeral procession. Aster caught Quercus by the arm before he could climb into the front seat.

  “Not you, Grandfather. I need you to help me with Iris.”

  Quercus nodded without a word and followed her toward the Door.

  -29-

  Quercus picked up Iris’s body, making her look as light as a length of firewood. Together, the three of them traveled through the Door of All Doors and into Ellemire. Aster let the door close, for she was certain she could open it again if necessary. Something had happened to her as she let the Old Magic flow through her. She came to know many things. What once were secrets were no longer.

  The two of them walked in silence down the wooded path. It was slow at first, but the going became easier once Aster found a thick branch she could use as a walking cane. When they reached the clearing behind the house, where the ashes of her childhood still sat upon the charred remains of the woodpile, Aster saw a stooped figure in the moonlight that she recognized immediately.

  “Aunt Holly…

  Bewilderment crossed the woman’s face at first, and Aster had a sinking feeling that the woman was too far gone on the salvia to be of much help. Then the recognition slowly dawned on Holly’s face, and Aster realized the weed wasn’t clouding the woman’s mind. In fact, her eyes seemed more aware than they had in years. “Aster? Is that my sweet girl in that shriveled body?”

  “Yes, Aunt. It’s a long story, but we don’t have much time to catch you up just yet.”

  Holly’s mouth was quivering. “When Oly put the needle in my brain, I knew she was setting to do something awful. She did, didn’t she? It’s all my fault that she got through that Door.”

  “Never blame yourself, Aunt. Oleander used you. She used everyone. But she will abuse no more.” Aster pulled the woman in for a hug. When they broke apart, Aster gestured to the body Quercus held patiently in his arms. “We need your help. This is Iris, our dear aunt. She has been of great service to our world, and we must send her off with all the grace with which she lived.”

  “Iris. I know that name. It’s a beautiful name.” She studied Iris’s peaceful face. “So beautiful. She must have had a very full life.”

  “She did. She went her own way.” Her voice cracked on the last word, but there was no more time for tears. “She’s come home to rest. And we’re going to return home to the other world. It’s time we had a full life too.”

  “You mean... I can come too?” The bald expression of gratitude on Holly’s face made her look almost childlike. Then a look of dark caution entered it. “What about Oly?”

  Aster revealed the toad she had wrapped in her shirt as she walked. It croaked loudly, but it made no effort to hop away. “You won’t have to worry about her anymore.”

  It took a few moments for Holly to make the connection. She would always have that problem. The salvia’s damage was permanent that way, but it hadn’t stolen her goodness or her ability to laugh, and that she did. It was the bubbly ecstatic chortle of the little girl she once was. Soon, Aster joined in, and the two women held each other as the lau
ghter healed their damaged hearts, if only a little bit.

  Quercus cleared his throat and gestured toward the lake, where the old funeral pyre sat being illuminated by the moonlight. They carried Iris over to the stone slab. Holly was singing an ancient lullaby as she washed her aunt’s face with lake water. She then picked some wild bleeding hearts to put in Iris’s hair.

  Aster went back to the house to retrieve a shroud. Once inside, she gazed in wonder at the tiny hovel that five women and one man had called home for so many years. She smelled Nanny Lily’s sage and rosemary hanging from strings in the front window. “We all lived here. How did we not kill each other?”

  Walking through, she marveled over how lifeless it all seemed after just a few days away. The line of cauldrons and mortars and pestles in Oleander’s potion room already had a layer of dust on them. Dahlia’s pile of knitting next to her rocker hadn’t changed since Aster left. She imagined her mother pacing fretfully around, her chores forgotten as she occupied herself with worry over her daughter. Holly’s handmade mop dolls with the big crystal eyes gazed at her from the shelf above the kitchen door. Aster had always thought them creepy, but now she saw them as the crude but well-intentioned crafts of a young witch trying so hard to find her gift, before those gifts were taken from her.

  Upstairs, her bedroom was a suffocating box. She thought she’d burned everything that had ever mattered before she left, but one thing remained. Dahlia or Lily must have saved it. It was her sketchbook. Inside were the drawings of a land she had always loved, but had never loved her back. The girl who drew them had different hands now. She placed the sketchbook on her bed and closed the door.

  She took one of Oleander’s small cauldrons and put the toad into it. On her way back to the door, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Although she still recognized a ghostly imprint of her old face on the new one, her eyes went to the crows feet and the craggy lines around her mouth. Liver spots speckled her face and neck, but her eyes still burned a fierce violet from their deeper sockets. Her hair had gone almost completely white, save for a solid pink stripe that framed her face. It was the face of a crone, but she didn’t mind it. As Ruby said, it was a wise face.

 

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