The Star Shepherd

by Dan Haring

  Kyro went still as a statue. Those boot prints could easily belong to his father.

  “He was here,” Kyro whispered, pausing in the doorway. A small part of him was almost afraid to disturb the ghosts of his past who might linger in this house. As though stepping through would destroy the happy memories he once had like fragile glass bubbles.

  Andra waited for Kyro to make a move, but he remained frozen on the threshold of the house. She nudged him.

  “Do you think your father is still around?”

  That shook Kyro out of his funk. “Let’s find out.” He stepped inside, stirring up more dust. He couldn’t help hoping his father was here, hidden away somewhere upstairs, sleeping. Then Kyro’s search would be over, and his father could fix things for real. Then they could go home.

  But as they moved through the house, Cypher yapping and sniffing everything in sight, they found only shadows and empty corners. Enough dust was disturbed to make it clear his father had been here recently, but he was gone. The house was abandoned yet again.

  Hollowness expanded under Kyro’s ribs, filling him up until it threatened to make him burst. It seemed his father was always leaving. Kyro angrily kicked the leg of a table, sending up yet another puff of dust. The cloth covering the table slipped, revealing a pile of papers underneath. Kyro realized the cloth was not nearly as dusty as everything else.

  “Andra!” he cried. “Over here.”

  She reached his side as he yanked the cloth away. A mess of notes and maps and star charts were strewn over the table.

  “Looks like he definitely was here,” Andra said, picking up one of the maps and wrinkling her brow. “And he was busy. There are notes all over this.”

  Kyro took one of the other maps of the region and examined it. Most of the notes made no sense to him, but one thing was clear from the path charted on the map. His father had been planning a journey—directly into the darkest, tallest peak of the Radamak Mountains.

  Cold whispered down Kyro’s spine. Though most people were no longer superstitious when it came to the stars, they were when it came to the mountains. The Radamak Mountains were rumored to be filled with wild beasts and dark things. Whatever his father’s reason for going there, it wasn’t good.

  And Kyro was going to have to follow him.

  “You don’t think your father really went into the mountains, do you?” she said. Even fearless Andra had a slight tremor in her voice at the thought of braving the Radamaks.

  Kyro could only nod, his throat too dry to respond properly. Cypher whined and settled at his feet, resting his head on crossed paws.

  Kyro shuffled through his father’s notes, hoping to find more clues of why he had decided to venture into the mountains. Only the other day, his father had explained how they were forbidden from going there! And now here he was, doing exactly that. Something significant must have changed his mind, and Kyro suspected it had to be something more than just the lost stars.

  There had to be something else here that explained it.

  He and Andra scanned the notes, looking for more than his father’s ravings. The first few Kyro read held no surprises—all talk of the desecrated stars and the vissla’s return. But then a small sheet of paper tucked beneath several maps revealed a story. His father, it seemed, had been interviewing people who lived near the Radamak Mountains. Over the last few years, there had been rumors of rare sightings of strange mechanical giants. Huge creatures—some that could even fly.

  Kyro had to sit down, his hands trembling and shaking the paper. Andra looked at him. “What did you find?”

  “Remember that mechanical arm we found in the desert?”

  She grinned. “Of course. That was wonderful.”

  “It’s real. And recent. A giant, alive now, today. My father has been collecting reports of sightings of the mechanical giants.” He glanced back down at the report and shuddered. “And the rumors say they live in the Radamak Mountains. If we hadn’t found that arm in the desert, I’d think he’s mad, but…”

  “But it’s too much of a coincidence not to be true, isn’t it?” Andra said, finishing Kyro’s thought.

  “Exactly. He must think they can help somehow. Put a stop to the vissla or whoever is taking the stars. We have to go after him.” Kyro leapt to his feet, but Andra put a hand on his arm.

  “You’re exhausted. We all are,” she said, gesturing to Cypher, already snoring under the table. “We need to sleep first, then we can head out in the morning.”

  Kyro hated waiting, but he couldn’t deny that sleep would be welcome. Every part of his body ached from the long trek across the desert.

  “All right,” he said. He showed her where his parents’ old bedroom was, and was glad to see it wasn’t too dusty once he took the sheeting off the bed. He surveyed the room, a heavy thickness settling into his chest. Visions of his mother, pale and sickly, flitted through his mind like taunting ghosts. His heart raced as he left the room in a hurry.

  Then he found himself in the bedroom of his childhood, just the same as the day they left it, covered in a thick sheen of dust. A smattering of old clockwork toys his father had crafted for him dotted the bedside table, almost as though they’d been waiting for him to return. Nothing had changed here, but everything had changed for him. He took the covering off his bed too and climbed in, trying to sleep as best he could. Bittersweet memories settled over him like a blanket of ice. Cypher had woken when they left the kitchen, and now he jumped up to settle in by his master’s feet. Kyro was grateful for the little bit of warmth and companionship.

  He lay awake for a long time, his heart pounding against his ribs. When he was little and his mother had told him the stories about the stars, he had thought how wondrous it would be to see the mechanical giants in real life. But he had long written that idea off as a foolish childhood fantasy. Now, to discover they may actually still exist was both incredible and terrifying. What would they be like after so many centuries without their human creators? Were they just machines, or did they think like humans?

  More importantly, would they be willing to help?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  They set out at dawn the next day, Kyro hoping to avoid any of the townspeople who might remember his father or recognize him. There were too many questions that he couldn’t answer yet.

  His father had dragged Kyro away from Romvi once before, and now he was forcing him away again. Recovering that sort of life—one filled with light and life and laughter—seemed impossible.

  After the years in Drenn, Kyro had almost forgotten how superstitious the people of Romvi were about living in the shadows of the Radamak Mountains. If his father’s notes were any indication, that superstition had grown worse over the last few years. When Kyro stepped out of his old house in the early morning light, he glanced up at the peaks, now clearly visible. They were dark and hulking, and the great spire—the most formidable of all the peaks in the range—rose above them all like a looming beast just waiting for the right moment to pounce.

  Sweat broke out on Kyro’s brow despite the cool air, but when Andra came up beside him and put her warm hand in his, he felt a little braver.

  “Ready, Starboy?” she said. Kyro nodded, and with Cypher prancing in front of them, they set out on the path to the edge of the village. At first, it seemed to be easy going, but before long, the village around them began to wake up. They rounded a bend and almost ran into a milkman setting up his cart for his daily rounds. Kyro grabbed Andra and ducked back into the shadows of a nearby building. At first, Cypher didn’t realize his master had stopped and only turned back when Kyro hissed at him to heel.

  The milkman had been on this route since long before Kyro was born and might actually remember him. Andra gave Kyro a bemused look but didn’t object to hiding in the shadows until the man finally went on his way. As soon as he was out of sight, Kyro breathed a sigh of relief
.

  “You know him?” Andra said.

  Kyro nodded. “And I’d rather not have to explain my father’s strange reappearance here.”

  They escaped without further incident and soon reached the foothills of the Radamak Mountains. The spire seemed even more magnificent the closer they got, and the terrain was rocky and dotted with spindly, grasping trees as they approached. One lone, narrow path wound through the mountains, making its way up to the top of the spire. There were no noises here. No birdsong, no telltale rustling of critters. A low hum, perhaps made by some insects, was all they heard. Even Cypher was strangely quiet. It felt as though the mountains themselves held their breath, waiting for Kyro and Andra to enter their trap.

  But they had no other path to follow, no other hope of finding Tirin and the mystery he’d been chasing.

  The only way out of their predicament was through.

  “It’s all uphill from here,” Andra said with a nervous laugh. She was usually unflappable, so her nervousness made Kyro worry all the more. He couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes crawling over them as they worked up enough courage to step onto the path and venture into the thick of the trees.

  Within minutes, the canopy closed around them, blocking out the sun. When Kyro risked a glance back, he could no longer see Romvi—just trees and winding path. That was all there was before and behind them. Some of the trees had black smudges on their trunks, almost like scorch marks that only made the scenery more foreboding.

  “Do you really think your father is lost in these woods?” Andra rubbed her arms.

  Kyro shrugged. “Part of me hopes he is because it means we’re on the right track, and the rest of me hopes he’s not.”

  She laughed. “I can’t blame you for that. Though I hope he is, so that this trek isn’t for nothing.” Her tone softened. “And so you can have him back.”

  Kyro tried to smile, but it felt wrong here in the Radamaks where everything was eternally drenched in twilight.

  A few minutes later, Andra spoke again. “What if… What if we find him, and he doesn’t want to come home?”

  Kyro’s hands shook. She had named the very question that haunted his own heart. “I don’t know. If he still has more work to do to find the culprit taking the stars, then we can help him, I suppose.” He kicked a wayward stick. “If he’ll let us, of course. If not, then I’ll just have to do my best to convince him he’s needed in Drenn to save the stars there.”

  Andra put a hand on Kyro’s shoulder. “We will convince him.”

  “Thanks,” Kyro said.

  They trudged on in silence. A heaviness weighed on the air around them, thick and suffocating. Not even sun or sound could penetrate it.

  “Ugh!” Andra cried all of a sudden, startling Kyro and Cypher. “What is this?” She wrinkled her nose as she wiped strange black slime off her shoulder.

  Kyro examined it and looked for a source, but saw nothing.

  “Did you touch anything recently?” he said.

  Andra shivered. “Definitely not. These woods and mountains don’t exactly seem friendly. Not like the woods in Drenn.”

  Homesickness struck Kyro without warning. He missed those woods too. Strange that he could miss both his homes, Romvi and Drenn, at the same time.

  “Well, it had to come from something. Keep an eye out,” Kyro said.

  As they progressed deeper into the mountains, an odd smell clung to the air. Almost like sulfur. The black slime became thicker and more pronounced, coating the trees and branches overhead in dangling gobs until they had to walk stooped to avoid it. Something about the slime and the smell was vaguely familiar to Kyro, but he couldn’t recall why. A chilling sense of dread settled deeper into his bones with every step. Andra plodded on without complaint, but one look at her face betrayed the fact that her fears were the same as Kyro’s.

  They may not be as alone out here as they’d thought.

  By midday they were forced to stop and eat a hurried lunch of rolls and cheese. They held their noses the entire time. Cypher ate a few biscuits.

  They’d only been sitting for a short while on an old fallen tree trunk—which they had to clear of slime first—when a slight rustling disturbed the air above them. Cypher growled. Andra and Kyro choked down the remains of their food and shoved the rest into their packs.

  If something was up there in the trees, they didn’t want to meet it. Or to become its lunch instead.

  As the afternoon marched on, so did they. Their pace began to flag as the daylight faded, darkening the half-light into deeper shades of gray. The shadows of the foreign trees twisted around them, looming larger than before.

  “Should we make camp soon?” Andra asked.

  Kyro hadn’t really considered that. He’d hoped they’d reach the top and his father before evening. It was only late afternoon now, but the darkness was deeper and more tangible here than he’d expected.

  “Not yet. But let’s keep an eye out for a clearing or somewhere that’s a little less…”

  “Creepy?” she said.

  “Exactly.”

  A few minutes later, Andra stopped. “Did you hear that?” she asked, frowning.

  Kyro began to shake his head, but then he heard it too. That rustling again.

  “I hear it now.”

  “What do you think it is?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to find out.”

  Despite the exhaustion seeping into their legs, they picked up the pace. But soon the rustling grew louder, seeming to come from all over the canopy.

  “Didn’t you say something about the villagers believing demons lived in these mountains?” Andra whispered.

  Kyro swallowed hard. “It’s just a myth.”

  Andra gave him a sharp look. “Like the vissla?”

  Kyro’s face turned a shade of green. “Maybe we should run?”

  He didn’t need to ask twice. The pair ran headlong up the path, though its narrow width and winding nature slowed their progress. Cypher ran ahead, as usual, and Kyro was surprised to find him just around the next bend, halted in the middle of the path.

  “Cypher, what—” Kyro’s mouth dropped open.

  His dog had stopped because the path was blocked—by a thick web of black slime.

  A web…a web… Why was that so familiar to Kyro? What legends had he heard about the Radamaks, aside from them being forbidden?

  Before he could puzzle it out, Cypher wheeled around and Andra screamed.

  “Above us!”

  Kyro’s head shot up. Descending on the strands of black slime was a horde of spiderlike monsters. The smell of sulfur intensified.

  Kyro suddenly understood what they were. Vritrax. They were supposed to be extinct, held at bay by the starlight net, just like the vissla. That’s why the slime was familiar—his mother had told him tales about these monsters. He shuddered, hypnotized by the closest one and its bottomless iridescent black eyes, getting closer, and closer…

  “Snap out of it, Starboy!” Andra grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him down the path. There was a great rip in the black web. Andra must have done it while Kyro had been caught in the lure of the vritrax.

  An awful clicking rose to a fever pitch, punctuated by a blast of heat and horrid stench. Kyro risked a glance behind and was reminded of a detail he’d forgotten—the vritrax breathed fire. The webbing that had stymied them momentarily was now aflame, which explained the occasional scorch marks they’d seen on trees on the trek up.

  “I wish your father had mentioned that in his notes,” Andra said.

  When a blast of heat engulfed the tree next to Kyro, he stumbled to his knees. Before he knew what had happened, he was covered in black slime webbing that was choking his breath and lifting him off his feet.

  “No!”

  He heard Andra cry, but she sounded so far a
way. He struggled, but the web only got tighter and it was too slippery to gain purchase. But he did his best to thrash and flail and hope.

  Suddenly, he heard a rip. Then he was falling. Andra helped him to his feet and dragged him along.

  “Hurry, maybe we can lose them in the rocks up ahead,” she said.

  Once they reached the rocks, the trees thinned and the vritrax slowed. Perhaps they were not as fast on the ground as they were in the air. Whatever the reason, Kyro was grateful for it.

  “Is that a tunnel?” Kyro said.

  Andra’s eyes brightened. “Come on.”

  They lurched into the tunnel, flattened themselves against the wall, and paused to catch their breath. Cypher huddled against Kyro’s legs. The smell of the vritrax was fading, as were its clicking noises, and there were no slime webs here among the rocks. Together, they breathed a sigh of relief and headed deeper into the tunnel.

  “What were they?” Andra asked.

  “Vritrax. They’re supposed to be extinct. But it seems the vissla aren’t the only dark things returning now.”

  “Let’s hope your father’s well on his way to stopping whoever’s stealing those stars then.”

  Kyro nodded. “If the vritrax are congregating here, maybe whoever’s stealing the stars is too.”

  Andra shivered, and Kyro could see her breath freezing in the air in the dim light. “Why is it so cold in here?” she asked.

  Dread froze Kyro’s lungs. Frost crept across the tunnel floor toward them, crackling as it advanced.

  A vissla was in these tunnels with them.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Darkness settled around them like a suffocating cloak. Kyro’s mind raced.

  “We have to hurry,” Andra whispered, and Cypher whined his agreement.

  “Hold on.” Kyro searched through his father’s rucksack in the faint light until he found what he was looking for. He held up the vial of stardust. “This might help keep the vissla at bay.”