The Star Shepherd

by Dan Haring

  Andra’s smile glowed. “Good thinking, Starboy.”

  Without a moment to lose, they ran headlong down the tunnel. A light glimmered far away at the end like a lone star in the night sky, inspiring them to run faster. Kyro gripped the vial of stardust tightly, hoping he wouldn’t need to use it. All around the air grew colder, and ice made the path beneath their feet more treacherous, frosting the walls beside them. As they neared the light, Cypher lost his footing completely and sailed toward the exit, yapping in objection.

  But as a dark shadow blocked out the light, the dog’s yap turned to a whine. Kyro and Andra stopped short, almost slipping too. Only a few feet separated them from fresh air, but now a vissla loomed over them, blocking their path. No wonder the vritrax hadn’t chased them into the tunnels—this was the vissla’s domain.

  Kyro held up the vial of stardust. It had worked when he needed to keep the vissla out, but he wasn’t sure he could fight with it. Next to him, Andra’s face was determined, despite being etched with fear.

  The shadow moved, and ice crackled around it, coating the walls and floor in a thick blanket. Kyro’s heart lurched into his throat as Cypher leapt up from where he had been cowering and sank his teeth into the vissla’s ragged, black form.

  “No!” Kyro cried, but it was too late. The vissla screamed, its arm expanding from the darkness, turning into an icy blade. It tossed Cypher back to the floor and stabbed at him. Cypher twisted away at the last second, but the blade pierced his leg. He let out a yelp of pain and fear.

  Kyro hurtled himself forward as Cypher limped toward his master. He picked the dog up and cradled him in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t lose him. A haze of grief and fury brewed inside him, and he almost didn’t notice when Andra placed herself between him and the vissla.

  The evil creature let out a bloodcurdling shriek and brandished its ice blade in the air. A sudden calm fell over Kyro. He gently rested Cypher on the ground, giving him a quick scratch behind the ears. Then Kyro stood beside Andra to face the vissla.

  “You should run. It’ll attack any second. You need to get to safety.”

  Andra scoffed. “Run? Are you joking? I’m not going anywhere. Besides, all that’s behind us are the vritrax, and I don’t want to go through them again either.” She shook her head. “No, we’re in this together.”

  Kyro realized her cheeks were also streaked with tears. She always put on a brave face, but Cypher’s injury had affected her too.

  The vissla shrieked again. Kyro opened the vial of stardust, ready to throw it on the vissla just to see what might happen.

  But before the dark creature could attack, a blazing beam of blue light filled the tunnel and swallowed the vissla where it stood.

  It screamed with pain, the ice around it melting. As it was beaten back from the tunnel entrance, Kyro and Andra flattened themselves against the wall. It flew past them in a blast of cold, retreating into the darkest corners of the tunnel.

  Kyro and Andra stood in shocked silence. Something had saved them, had banished the vissla, but they had no idea who or what. For a moment, the faint hope that it might be his father returning from the mountains filled Kyro, but it was swiftly replaced by confusion and astonishment.

  The sound of metal gears churning rang through the tunnel, sparking their curiosity. Kyro gently picked up Cypher, who whined and nipped at his sleeve, then he and Andra stepped into the light together. It took them a moment to realize what was making the strange noise. The first thing they saw were rusted metal tree trunks, but they soon understood that they were not trees at all: they were legs. Above them was a dented metal torso enclosing a blue orb of light that hummed and spun, likely the source of the light that defeated the vissla. From the shoulders sprouted arms similar to the one they’d found in the desert. And at the very top was a face comprised of metal and gears, and around its neck hung a threadbare red scarf. The giant regarded them with glowing blue eyes and what Kyro hoped was curiosity.

  The pair staggered backward as the mechanical giant knelt in front of them, its enormous face coming down to eye level.

  “Greetings, friends. The vissla will not trouble you anymore today.” Its voice was like metal scraping stone, but the words were spoken clearly.

  Kyro managed to stammer, “Thank you.”

  Andra’s eyes bulged from her head as she stared at the giant. “You’re… You’re a giant!”

  “Of course, I am,” the mechanical creature said. “What else would I be?” He made a strange sound that startled them. But it was only the giant’s way of laughing. “My name is Jector.”

  Jector held out his hand, and Kyro and Andra each cautiously took a finger to shake. Several of them were tipped with needles the length of Kyro’s forearm.

  “I’m Kyro, and I’m looking for my father.”

  “And I’m Andra. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” said Jector. He gave Kyro a long look, then noticed the injured dog in the boy’s arms. “Come with me. I believe I can offer you help with your animal and perhaps your mission as well.” Jector held out the palm of his hand, and Kyro gingerly set Cypher in it.

  For a brief second, he had the fleeting concern that perhaps the giant might not be as trustworthy as he seemed. He was a stranger, after all. But he had just saved them from the vissla, and the giants had placed the stars in the sky. If there was anyone who should be on their side, it was them.

  Trusting Jector seemed like their best option, especially if he could help Cypher. The dog was growing more and more listless. A knot tightened in Kyro’s chest, and his heart thumped against it like a drum. He had no idea how else to make his best friend better.

  Andra placed a hand on Kyro’s shoulder and squeezed as they followed Jector. At first, the giant’s huge steps took him too far too fast as he deftly maneuvered through the trees, and they had to run to keep up. But once Jector realized this, he slowed down so they could walk at a normal pace.

  “I can’t believe we found a real, live giant!” Andra whispered.

  Kyro shook his head. “I know. I can’t either. Though I’m even more surprised to find one in the Radamak Mountains. All the stories my mother told me were very clear that nothing good lived here.”

  “Well, the stories can’t get everything right, now can they?” She smiled, and Kyro’s worries began to melt away. She was right. The mechanical giant was kind and wanted to help. It was best not to question a blessing.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kyro and Andra had grown tired and hungry, so when Jector finally stopped, they were relieved. Then they realized where they were.

  They had not stumbled upon one lone giant of old; they’d found an entire village of them. An area on the side of the Radamak Mountains had been cleared of trees, and tall houses dotted the landscape in a haphazard fashion. Jector led them straight to the center of the little village where there were several more giants sitting around a firepit.

  “There are more of them,” Andra murmured quietly in Kyro’s ear.

  It was almost impossible to imagine that any giants had survived for a thousand years, let alone at least a dozen.

  The way Kyro had always imagined them had been far too simplistic. These were not just mindless machines. They moved and spoke among themselves almost like humans. They were living beings, just as much as Kyro and Andra were.

  Jector carried Cypher over to another mechanical giant, one that was made of a bright red-tinted metal, striking next to Jector’s gray and blue tones. Jector said something to the other giant that Kyro could not make out, but it caused the other giant to take Cypher and carry him into a nearby hut. Kyro’s heart stuck in his throat and he moved to follow them, when something else stopped him.

  Andra tugged on his arm, her face pale and drawn. Kyro’s eyes followed in the direction she was pointing, and his breath halted in his
lungs, as if someone had just punched him in the stomach.

  There was his father, sitting with the mechanical giants and staring into the blazing firepit. His hair was bedraggled as though he hadn’t brushed it in weeks, and his eyes held a terrible vacant look that Kyro didn’t like at all. His father absentmindedly fiddled with a gear that was large enough to belong to one of the giants.

  “Father,” he said, still too far away for Tirin to hear him. Suddenly, all the anger he’d been holding back these last few days rushed into his gut, boiling over. His father hadn’t been on some grand mission; he’d been wandering aimlessly and had probably stumbled upon the giants in much the same way they had.

  His father had no more of a clue how to save the stars than they did. Yet he’d stayed away from his son and his home. He’d been gone for days. He could have come back and told Kyro about the wondrous giants.

  But instead he chose to remain among them.

  Kyro’s hands balled into fists at his sides. His father really had abandoned him. And all for nothing.

  “Don’t you want to talk to him?” Andra asked, her brow furrowed.

  “Yes…and no. Look at him. He’s a mess.” Kyro let out an exasperated sigh and did his best to swallow his disappointment and anger.

  “He’s still your father.”

  Kyro feared it was in name only now. But Andra was right. He’d found his father; he had to talk to him and convince him to come home and fix things with the Star Shepherd Council. Otherwise, they’d lose everything.

  Kyro took a deep breath and headed toward the firepit where his father sat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jector and Andra a little way behind, but he ignored them. He might lose his resolve if anything interrupted him now.

  He marched up to his father, blocking his view of the firepit. Tirin didn’t even seem to notice; he simply continued his staring and tinkering with the gear in his hands.

  “Father?” Kyro said, almost frightened now. What had happened to his father to make him this way? This was a far worse state than Kyro had ever imagined he would find him in.

  “Father? It’s your son. I’ve come to bring you home.” Still, Tirin made no response. “You have to come home.”

  Desperation had begun to seep into Kyro’s bones when Jector tapped him on the shoulder with one huge pointer finger.

  “He will not answer you,” Jector said.

  All the giants, including Jector, gave Kyro pitying looks. Andra came up beside him and squeezed his hand.

  “Well, why not? What’s wrong with him? He’s my father, but he doesn’t even recognize me.”

  “Then I am very sorry indeed. He is a broken man. We found him not long ago, starving and half-frozen after an encounter with a vissla.”

  One of the others spoke up too. “We nursed him back to health as best we could, but something happened to him out there in the mountains that shut him off. All he seems to want to do is work on clockwork, which has been a very lucky thing for us.” The giant pointed to his metal torso. “That’s what we’re made of inside, and we are not so easy to fix. But this one, he is very good.”

  “Yes,” Jector nodded. “He has been a great help to us. He understands how we work better than we do.”

  Kyro suddenly grew light-headed as his stomach turned. “So he’s been here this whole time, repairing you all?”

  The giants nodded, exchanging looks that revealed they didn’t quite grasp why Kyro was so upset.

  Jector leaned down and asked, “Could you tell us, what is his name? We have taken to calling him the Human, but he does not respond to that.”

  Ice began to form in Kyro’s gut, even worse than the chill of a vissla.

  “His name’s Tirin,” he said. “He was supposed to be out here on an important mission. One he left me behind, alone, to complete.” His face had turned as red as frostbite. “It was all for nothing.”

  Kyro could take no more of the giants’ surprised, sad looks. He stormed to the edge of the village, Andra at his heels.

  “Kyro!” Andra called, but he kept going. He was ready to leave this mountain, the stars, and even his own father behind. What good had any of it done him? All it had brought was misery.

  He didn’t have to take it anymore.

  Andra grabbed him by the elbow, and he spun around. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Home.” Kyro turned to go back toward the cave, but she blocked his way.

  “Are you joking, Starboy?”

  “Don’t call me that. I hate the stars.” Kyro said, though he immediately regretted it. He actually rather liked the nickname Andra had given him. It had made him feel special, as if he had an important job. But now that job had become a burden he couldn’t bear. Not alone.

  “No, you don’t. You’re upset because your own father doesn’t recognize you. Anyone would be.”

  “No, I really do hate the stars. I used to think Star Shepherding was a wondrous thing. But the stars made the villagers hate me, and they took my father away from me. They’ve brought me all the way into the mountains on a fool’s errand. I want nothing to do with them ever again.” Kyro tried to move past Andra, but she grabbed his arm.

  “We came out here not just to find your father, but to do something about the stars. Someone’s cutting them down. We need to find out who and stop them.” She glanced over her shoulder at Tirin and frowned. “And now that your father’s out of commission, that duty falls to us.”

  Her words softened the edge of Kyro’s anger. “What if I don’t want that duty anymore?”

  “If we don’t do something, who will? You told me yourself—most people think the stories about the stars and the vissla are just legends. But we’ve seen them, we know better. We have to do something.”

  Kyro closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to magically be home, safe in the watchtower with everything back to normal. “I don’t know if I can do it, Andra. I’m sorry. Everything I’ve tried so far has been a failure.”

  “Fine.” Now Andra’s voice was tinged with irritation. “If you won’t save the stars, then I will.” She stepped out of Kyro’s way and headed back toward the firepit.

  Kyro stared, mouth agape, as an awful realization dawned on him at last: nothing would ever go back to normal again. Maybe there’d be a new normal at some point in the future, but the one he’d known was gone. First in Romvi, now in Drenn. He could run away, or he could stand up—with Andra—and be brave.

  It was an easier choice than he’d expected.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Wait!” Kyro ran after Andra, and she turned to him with a knowing smile and a raised eyebrow. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Let’s talk to Jector. Maybe he knows something.”

  She grinned wider. “I was just thinking the same thing.” She slid her hand into Kyro’s, and the warmth of her grip fueled his resolve to save the stars in spite of his father.

  “Is it still okay if I call you Starboy?”

  Kyro had to smile. What would he have done without her?

  “Of course.”

  Jector ducked into the same house his fellow giant had disappeared into with Cypher, and they followed him, determined to learn what they could from their new friends. But when they stepped inside, they were startled into awed silence.

  The interior walls of the house were covered in intricate carvings of stars and constellations and thin lines connecting them in a netlike formation. They were hauntingly lovely and unlike anything Kyro had seen before.

  Jector and the other giant were bent over Kyro’s dog, who was laid out on a small table. The second giant was smaller than Jector and the needles at the ends of its fingertips were hooked. The giants were working together to patch up Cypher and bind his wounds. The needle tips on their huge hands were somehow able to do this delicate work.

  All Kyro’s anxiety about Cyph
er rushed back, making him dizzy. “Will he be all right?”

  Jector glanced up from Cypher’s still body. “He should be good as new very soon. We’re almost done.”

  “Thank you,” Kyro managed to say, warm relief washing over him. If the vissla had succeeded…

  Kyro shuddered and banished the thought.

  The smaller giant nodded. “We are quite good at fixing flesh creatures, just like we are at making burlap cases. But our own clockwork insides have so often mystified us. Needles are useless for it.”

  A wayward laugh bubbled up in Kyro’s throat, but he swallowed it back. He’d save his laughter for when the stars were all back in the sky and the vissla were once again banished.

  “You made the original cases for the stars?” Andra asked.

  Jector nodded. “Indeed we did. That is why we were created.”

  She frowned. “But what have you been doing out here since?”

  Jector and the other giant exchanged a glance and shrugged their huge metal shoulders, the resulting creak reverberating through Kyro’s teeth.

  “Waiting,” Jector said.

  “Did you make these carvings?” Kyro asked, eyeing the walls of the house.

  Jector’s clockwork eyebrows lifted. “Why, yes. It helps to pass the time. It is the layout of the stars in the sky and how together they form the starlight net.”

  “It’s a map. How wonderful,” Andra said, gazing at the walls with newfound respect.

  They finished with Cypher, and to Kyro’s immense relief, his dog’s chest rose and fell in peaceful sleep. Kyro fished in his pocket for a biscuit and left it near Cypher’s nose so he’d find it when he woke up.

  “Let me introduce you to the others,” Jector said. “First, this is Rumy. She is a Weaver.” He gestured to the giant who had helped him patch up Cypher.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Kyro said. “Thank you for helping my dog.”

  Andra wrinkled her nose. “What’s a Weaver?”

  “Most of us here are Stitchers, like me,” Jector said, “but others like Rumy are Weavers, and we have a few Framers too.”