Starfinder: A Novel of the Skylords

by John Marco

  “Stop!” the creature pleaded. “Mighty dragon, mercy! Mercy!”

  Flames lit the hall. The burnt remains of the creatures smoldered. Moth and Fiona got to their feet, huddling against the pillar. Merceron’s body shook with rage. The scales along his back glowed red. His massive jaws snapped open.

  “No!” screamed the creature.

  Moth couldn’t watch. Before he turned away, Merceron hissed, “Where are they?”

  The winged creature trembled beneath him. “Gone!” it stammered. “Everyone!”

  “Why?” demanded Merceron. “The Skylords?”

  “No more Taurnoken. My Masters have said so!”

  Merceron snorted fire. “Where have they gone?”

  “I don’t know! I swear, Mighty One! We came for the children!” The thing twisted its head, looking straight at Moth. “That one has the Starfinder! We feel it!”

  Merceron lifted the creature and dashed it hard against the wall. “The children are mine! Tell your masters!”

  The thing spun back to its feet, spread wide its monstrous wings, and darted from the hall.

  “Tell them!” Merceron roared after it. “Tell your masters Merceron is back!”

  Moth looked breathlessly at Merceron. Until now, he’d never feared the dragon. He held Fiona, afraid to let go. Fiona clutched her chest, staring through the smoke and fire.

  “Merceron?”

  The dragon’s wrathful eyes scowled. “Redeemers,” he said. “They’ve found us.”

  THE WAY THINGS HAVE TO BE

  THE NEXT MORNING, MOTH and Fiona awoke with the sun. Merceron stood nearby, guarding them from a platform on the library tower. His drooping expression told Moth he’d been awake the whole night. He nudged Moth with his tail, trying to smile but failing to manage it.

  “No time for breakfast,” he said softly. “We need to get moving.”

  He turned away, his look distracted as he scanned the sky. So far, things had been quiet. If they were lucky, the Redeemers would leave them alone until nightfall.

  “They never fly during the day,” Merceron had explained. “The Skylords won’t allow it.”

  That single, curious statement remained with Moth all night. He dreamed about it, his sleep filled with fitful night-mares of being chased and captured, of becoming one of them. Even then—even with his own wings—the Skylords would keep him from flying.

  He and Fiona gathered their things and climbed once more onto Merceron’s back. Merceron hadn’t told them where they’d be going, only that he might know where his beloved Dreojen was hiding. In the early days of the war, he explained, he and Dreojen had scouted out aeries in the cliffs where they could hide. Finding her was a terrible long shot, but with the dragons gone and the Redeemers chasing them, it was the only chance they had.

  With the children on his back and Lady Esme at his tail, Merceron leaped from the tower with a sickening lurch. The sun felt warm on Moth’s face, but he knew he’d soon be shivering from the wind. He tucked himself down against Merceron’s powerful body, wishing desperately for sleep.

  They flew on northward, following the river again, the river that never ended. And then they were falling, gliding down gently to the earth, and Moth didn’t know why. Merceron flared his wings and landed by the river, his claws alighting on the soft, loamy bank.

  “Nice!” joked Fiona. “We’re there already?”

  Merceron smiled but didn’t laugh. “Unbuckle yourselves,” he said.

  They did as he asked, sliding off his back and looking up at him inquisitively. Lady Esme circled overhead, as surprised as they were by the abrupt landing. Merceron’s enormous head sank on his shoulders.

  “Moth, Fiona . . .” His voice broke. “I need you to give me the Starfinder now.”

  Confused, Moth reached into his coat. “Okay. Why?”

  He handed the device off to Merceron, who cradled it in his giant claw.

  “What’s going on?” asked Fiona. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re going on,” said Merceron. “Without me.” He sneered at the Starfinder. “Without this.”

  Moth was incredulous. “What? We can’t go on by ourselves, Merceron. How are we supposed to find the other dragons?”

  “You can’t,” said Merceron. “I’m going to find them alone. You’re going to Pandera. The Valley of the Centaurs.”

  “By ourselves?” Moth’s head was really spinning now. “How?”

  “It’s a two-day walk from here,” said Merceron. “Just follow the river. Pandera is surrounded by mountains. Once you clear these trees you’ll see them. The river flows right underneath the mountain. It’s a tight squeeze, but you can make it.”

  “That’s crazy!” said Fiona. “You’re going to just leave us out here? What about those creatures?”

  Merceron hefted the Starfinder. “If I don’t take this away they’ll find you for sure,” he said. “It’s the Starfinder they really want. They’ll be coming for it now.”

  “Oh, my god,” sighed Fiona. “That’s why you told them your name! That’s why you want the Skylords to know you’re back—so they’ll chase you instead of us.”

  “You’ll be safe with the centaurs,” said Merceron. His words fumbled with emotion. “The Skylords won’t bother you there, and the centaurs won’t give you up easily. They’re arrogant, but they’re brave. Remember I told you that?”

  “What about you?” asked Moth. He could feel himself starting to panic. “Where will you go?”

  “To find Dreojen, if I can. Esme will come with me. This is still about getting her back to normal, Moth. It’s what I owe her.” The dragon lowered himself to look right into Moth’s face. “I’ll be back for you when I can. Stay with the centaurs until then.”

  “Merceron, I can’t,” choked Moth. “I can’t be alone anymore. There’s so much I still want to tell you. About Leroux. About me!”

  “You’ll not be alone, boy! You’ll have Fiona. And I’m not abandoning you. I’ll be back, I swear it.”

  Fiona’s face hardened. “Oh, it’s so easy for you. It’s so bloody simple for all of you to just walk away.”

  Merceron shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s just the way things have to be.”

  “Merceron, no,” pleaded Moth.

  “If the Redeemers find you they’ll take you back to the Skylords,” said Merceron. “And the Skylords won’t hesitate because you’re children. They’ll enslave you both. And they’ll get the Starfinder.”

  “But they’ll kill you!” Moth cried.

  “They will try,” admitted Merceron. “But I’m not easily killed, boy. I am a dragon!” He smiled at Fiona. “And you, girl—you’re the older one. You take care of him, hear me? And if you feel afraid, play that game you taught me. The one where you remember the best things in life.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” said Fiona coldly. “I’m not going to leave like everybody else.”

  Merceron’s long tail came around them both. Moth could feel it trembling as it hugged them. “Dragons live a very long time,” he said, “so they choose their friends carefully. They never forget them. Or leave them behind.”

  Fiona bit her lip, then reached out to touch his face. “Crazy old dragon,” she said.

  Moth felt empty. “Follow the river,” he whispered. He just couldn’t say good-bye.

  “Follow the river,” echoed the dragon. “And remember—you are my friends.”

  THE CASTLE

  IN THEIR LONG COATS AND oversized boots, Moth and Fiona trundled along the riverbank, keeping close to the trees and doing their best to stay out of the open. It felt strange to be alone again, without Esme for company or Merceron to tell them where they were going. At first, they welcomed the chance to walk again. But walking was so much slower than flying, and as the hours wore on even Fiona wished they were back in Merceron’s homemade saddle, gliding toward Pandera.

  Moth himself said little as they traveled. He watched the treetops for Redeemers, worried that Merceron w
as wrong about the creatures only flying at night. So far, they had yet to sight the promised mountains, and they knew they wouldn’t be reaching the centaur valley for at least another day. That meant a night spent by themselves—out in the open, without a dragon to protect them.

  Usually it was Moth who kept the conversations going, but this time that duty fell to Fiona. With a game smile she kept her tone jolly, embarrassing Moth with her efforts to cheer him. In fact, Moth didn’t want to be cheered. He was afraid, and he’d never felt so alone since the day his mother died. Being happy now seemed somehow disrespectful.

  “. . . and we had a big house,” Fiona said as they plodded along. She had been talking about her life back in Capital City for almost an hour. It was something she rarely did, but now she didn’t seem to know how to stop. “So many rooms. There was always one more light to turn out before going to bed!”

  “We just had the apartment,” said Moth. “All we had to do was blow out a candle.”

  “Well, you had Leroux at least.”

  “You had your parents. Both of them.”

  “Oh.”

  Moth didn’t want her trying so hard. Mostly, he just wanted quiet. And to reach Pandera in one piece.

  “I wonder what they’ll be like,” said Fiona.

  “Who?”

  “Jorion and his centaurs,” said Fiona. “I wonder if they’ll be like they are in books.”

  “I doubt it. I’ve seen plenty of dragons in books, and none of them were like Merceron. Smoking a pipe, tinkering . . .” Moth laughed. “The centaurs here probably all play chess and talk in rhymes.”

  “And wear spectacles,” said Fiona.

  “And dresses!”

  “No,” said Fiona sharply. “Merceron said they were brave fighters. I bet they’re not afraid of the Redeemers.”

  “Merceron wasn’t afraid of them, either,” said Moth. “He just wanted to protect us.”

  Fiona nodded but didn’t say anything.

  When afternoon came they rested, finding a shady spot to share some of the food they had left and fill their canteens from the river. The river tumbled with clear water. Moth had heard of sparkling rivers, but this one actually did sparkle, and the fish inside it sparkled too, darting through the rocks, the sun making rainbows on their bellies. The river was wider here than it had been before, the current just a little faster. The farther north they traveled, the bigger and faster it got.

  Fiona knew she couldn’t tell Moth she was afraid. He was only a year younger then her, but it was an important year and he was a boy. Admit it or not, he needed her. For Fiona, that meant keeping a stupid smile plastered on her face and talking when she didn’t feel like it. She surprised herself by telling Moth about the friends she’d left behind in Capital City, her pet parakeets, the trips she had taken to museums, and the day her mother and father died. She even told him about the day her grandfather came to collect her. She remembered his face, so stormy and grave at the death of his daughter, and so unhappy to have to raise another child when he was already so busy.

  Moth listened to every word and barely spoke at all. Fiona could tell he was rapt. He trailed behind her, occasionally nodding when she said something important. Finally, they followed a bend in the river and came out of the forest, emerging into a rolling expanse of fields and meadows filled with wildflowers. The river chugged eastward, slicing toward a distant range of mountains. The sight stopped Fiona short.

  One little curve in the river, and the mountains Merceron had promised them appeared, a sheer wall of rock across the horizon. Their staggering height stole Fiona’s breath. Her eyes traced them up, up, to where their peaks disappeared in the clouds.

  “It looks like a castle,” she whispered.

  Moth came to a halt beside her. “I don’t even think Merceron could get over those mountains. No wonder the Skylords leave the centaurs alone.”

  For the first time in days, a sense of hope touched Fiona. They’d be safe beyond the mountains, she was sure of it. Safe with the centaurs. Safe inside their impregnable castle.

  “Merceron said there’d be a way through,” she remembered. “He said the river runs under the mountains.”

  “There’s probably secret trails all over the mountains,” said Moth. “Probably paths only the centaurs know about.” He looked up into the sky. “We’re out in the open here. It’ll be getting dark soon.”

  Fiona started right out toward the mountains “If we move fast we can make it by tomorrow night,” she said. She was buoyant suddenly, her smile genuine. “It’s our castle, Moth,” she said. “You told me there wasn’t one, but there it is!”

  “Huh?”

  “Back in Calio at my grandfather’s house. When we were sitting on the wall.”

  “Fiona, I don’t remember. That was the night Leroux died.”

  Fiona glanced back at him. “Sorry,” she said. “Let’s just hurry, all right?”

  She took his hand and pulled him forward, urging him faster along the riverbank. It didn’t matter if he remembered or not. He’d told her that there were no faraway castles for her, no place for her to run.

  He was wrong.

  When night finally arrived, they found a place beneath some fruit trees to hide. Using leaves and branches for blankets, they buried themselves from the eyes of the Redeemers, leaving just enough of the sky visible to see what might be stalking them. The long walk had exhausted Moth. Although the mountains did seem closer now, he knew there were still miles to go tomorrow. He said good night to Fiona and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him away.

  But soon he dreamed. Of Merceron, mostly, but also of Leroux and the Redeemers. In his dream Moth asked Leroux why he’d never mentioned the Redeemers or the terribleness of the Skylords. Leroux smiled in his dream and said, “Because I was in love.”

  The answer bothered Moth enough to wake him. When his eyes opened he noticed Fiona next to him, staring up at the sky through the hole in the trees.

  “What are you looking at?” he asked groggily.

  “Nothing,” said Fiona. “Go back to sleep.”

  So Moth did.

  Fiona searched the sky for Jorian. She could only see a little patch of stars through the trees, but they were directly above her, the same place she had seen the centaur chieftain before. She imagined him in his valley beyond the mountains, defying the Skylords, ready to protect her, and she wondered why Merceron and the dragons could ever dislike such brave creatures. If centaurs were like horses, then they were noble. Fiona knew horses. She had ridden them when her parents were alive.

  She caught a glimpse of a single bright star burning hot above her.

  “Jorian’s eye,” she whispered.

  The star twinkled as it watched her.

  DREAMS

  THROUGH THE MILES AND the dark of night, Alisaundra could taste the children’s dreams. Moth, Fiona. Asleep in a field of wildflowers, they served up a feast for her. Alisaundra leaned forward in her chains as if smelling a confection.

  Night was when her senses came alive. Her hawklike eyes—a gift from her Masters—easily scanned the dark landscape below. Nearby, the man called Donnar watched the same black horizon with a squint. The noise of the airship hummed in Alisaundra’s bones. She smelled the powder of the rifle at her back. She clutched the strip of the girl’s dress, picturing Fiona’s orange hair, her pale and freckled face.

  A single chain tethered Alisaundra to the platform. Looped around her waist, it was just long enough for her to gaze through the airship’s window. For two days now she had tracked the children, directing the craft along the river. Her captor, Rendor, watched her keenly most of the time, and there was always a rifle nearby to kill her if she broke her promise. Tonight, though, Rendor was gone. Only Donnar strode the platform. Only one guard threatened her.

  Hunting the children had been easy. Alisaundra was sure she would find them tomorrow. She had already told Rendor where they were—all they needed to do now was follow the river.

>   Still, Alisaundra had her secrets.

  Her eyes moved across the chamber, scanning the instruments and dials, marveling at the things the humans had built. Did her Masters know about the airships? She didn’t think so. They’d never have let the humans go so far.

  Alisaundra had always thought her human memories gone for good, but somehow, being around her kind again had coaxed them back to life. When she was alive, humans crawled on the earth like beetles. Now they could fly! The miracle of what they’d done still startled her.

  And then there were the dreams.

  Her dreams weren’t like the delicious dreams of children. They were echoes in her mind, voices she hadn’t heard in eons. Familiar voices she couldn’t quite remember. A father’s voice. A sister’s. A husband’s?

  Alisaundra wanted desperately to be away. Once she was gone from the airship, her bad dreams would stop. First though, she had a bargain to fulfill. She would find the children for Rendor—even though they no longer had the Starfinder.

  THE RIVERBANK

  BY THE END OF THEIR SECOND DAY of walking, Moth and Fiona had nearly reached the mountains. The meadows and green hills had given way to a rocky, uneven terrain, making following the river difficult. Their blistered feet ached in their boots and the wind had chafed their skin, turning their cheeks and foreheads crimson. Towering pine trees lined the river, showering needles into the rushing water. To the east, the sun was already heading down.

  Before them loomed the enormous mountains, the ramparts of Fiona’s imaginary castle. Moth’s eyes crept skyward as he walked, trying to see the peaks in the darkening sky and gray, growing mists. Throughout the day a storm had dogged them, threatening a downpour. So far, the rains had held off, but the wind was picking up again and Moth knew their luck was waning.

  “If we don’t find shelter soon we’ll be drowned,” he called to Fiona. “Might as well just sleep in the river!”

  Fiona waved at him to keep up. “We’ll make it,” she promised—the same promise she’d been making all day. She walked quickly along the stones, sometimes balancing herself with outstretched arms.