The Star Shepherd

by Dan Haring

  Rumy said. “We wove the star casings, Stitchers sewed the pieces together, and Framers crafted the hooks to hang them in the night sky. Put a Stitcher and Weaver together, and we can sew up a torn metal body, or a fleshy one. With the help of a Framer, we can make houses, tents, most things we need.”

  “But you have a hard time with clockwork?” Kyro asked, surprised.

  “We do. The gears work together too precisely, and there are too many of them.” Rumy held up her hands. While nimble compared to Jector’s, they were still quite large. “We cannot get a grip on them, and our needles cannot sew gears back together.”

  “That is why your father appearing in these mountains has been such a gift. Some of us have been lumbering around broken for decades or longer,” Jector said. “We can patch ourselves up fine, but stars help you if you have a broken gear in your knee.”

  Kyro digested this as Jector led them from the house and introduced them to each of the other giants sitting near the firepit with Tirin. It was difficult not to look at his father and hope that his condition would suddenly change. Every time his father moved, Kyro would glance over, hope rising in his heart, only to have it dashed just as quickly. He tried to focus on the introductions instead, but that was easier said than done and they went by in a blur.

  Jector indicated they should sit around the firepit. It was a strange sight—two children and a grown man, surrounded by kneeling mechanical giants chatting like old friends.

  Andra made small talk with the giants while Kyro turned to his father. He had to find a way to get through to him somehow.

  “Father,” he said, this time placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please look at me.” But Tirin just continued spinning the gear in his hands. Tears welled up in Kyro’s eyes. “Father, the Council has forbidden us from touching the stars. But the stars are in danger. Someone is stealing them. That’s why you left me. I don’t know what happened to you, but the stars need you. I need you. We’re going to lose everything if you don’t snap out of this. Please.” Kyro’s voice cracked on the last word, and he stopped and stared at his father for a few more moments. No reaction. He may as well not even be sitting next to him. He may as well not even exist.

  Heaviness fell over him as he turned away from his father. How many times could he get his hopes up before they were crushed beyond repair?

  A tap on his knee startled him. His father was facing him, holding out the gear he’d been spinning in his hands. He didn’t say a word and his eyes were still lost, but it was something. Kyro took the gear tentatively.

  “Father?” he whispered. Tirin grunted and picked up another gear. Kyro sighed and put the gear his father had handed him in his rucksack. It wasn’t much, but an acknowledgment of his existence was something at least. He would take what little crumbs he could get.

  Jector’s voice interrupted Kyro’s thoughts. “We are glad the two of you are in better shape than your father. We know that vissla was troubling you, but did you encounter anything else? We were hoping for a clue as to what made Tirin the way he is now.” Jector’s face, despite being made from metal, managed to look genuinely curious and concerned.

  “Oh, we definitely encountered something else.” Andra said wryly.

  “A horde of vritrax. Fire-breathing spiderlike creatures, with slimy black webbing.” Kyro shuddered. “We were fleeing them when we entered the vissla’s cave.”

  “Vritrax?” Jector gasped. The others murmured. “But that is impossible. No one has seen their kind for hundreds of years.”

  Kyro shrugged. “That’s what everyone said about the vissla too.”

  Rumy leaned forward. “There was an entire horde?”

  “Oh yes,” Andra said. “They wanted to have us for dinner.”

  Rumy shook her head gravely. “That does not bode well. For them to be here and so bold is very bad news indeed.”

  “Have you seen anything strange?” Andra asked.

  “Only the vissla and your father. We have heard strange howls and rustlings in these woods, but we mostly keep to ourselves,” Jector said.

  “Perhaps that was a mistake,” Rumy wondered aloud.

  “We’ve seen many strange things,” Kyro said. “My father and I are Star Shepherds. It is our sworn duty to protect the stars in the sky and send them back where they belong anytime they fall.” He gazed at his hands twisting in his lap. “But something has gone wrong. Someone is stealing the stars. They’re being cut down. Whole constellations at once.” He rummaged in his bag and held up one of the severed star hooks for all to see. “See? They’re not rusted or worn out; they’ve been sliced. I don’t understand who’s responsible—or how they’ve managed it—but it must be the reason creatures like the vritrax and the vissla have been reappearing. There’s a hole in the starlight net.”

  Kyro’s throat choked up. The giants had gone silent and exchanged worried looks. Andra put a hand on his arm and picked up the thread of conversation.

  “It’s why we’re here. Kyro’s father left home to stop whoever has been stealing the stars. We followed him this far, hoping to help. We have to fix this.”

  Jector finally spoke. “That is quite a strange tale, though I cannot deny the vissla and the vritrax give it the look of truth. Stolen stars would explain their reappearance.” He scratched his metal chin, and it made an odd tinny sound that tickled Kyro’s eardrums. “Our little camp is not the only one. We are part of vast army of metal giants. There are the Orers who mined the ore, the Crafters who made the hearts of stars, and the Flyers who hung the stars in the sky. I do not know who else would be able to reach the stars, but I cannot imagine any of them would be to blame.”

  Several of the others scoffed and snorted metallically. Jector frowned at them, but Rumy spoke anyway.

  “Our job as Stitchers was vitally important, but some of the others have grown too big for their metal britches, if you ask me. The Flyers deemed themselves more important, and we were ostracized from our brothers and sisters. That was when we came here so we could go about our business as we see fit.”

  “Wait, the ones who actually hung the stars in the sky are still around?” Andra said in disbelief.

  “Of course. We all are.”

  “But we thought you died out. Everyone did,” Kyro said. “When we found you, we assumed you were all that was left.”

  “And we thought you all could fly,” Andra added.

  Rumy and several others laughed, sending a ringing rhythm toward the stars. “Lucky for us, we do not die that easily. And we are happy enough on the ground.”

  Kyro glanced at Andra and knew without question that she was thinking the very same thing he was.

  “We need you to take us to see them. We have to talk to the flying giants.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It took some convincing, but Kyro and Andra finally persuaded Jector and Rumy to bring them to where the rest of their army was encamped in the mountains the next morning. But before they settled in for the night in the Stitchers’ camp, Kyro checked on Cypher, only to have his dog bound out of the house yapping and pawing at his master’s knees in greeting. Kyro threw his arms around Cypher’s neck.

  “Good boy,” he whispered. “I’m so glad you’re all better.”

  When Kyro curled up to sleep on the floor of Jector’s house, Cypher snuggled up beside him. His father snored nearby, but so far the only acknowledgment he’d shown of Kyro was when he had handed him the gear earlier.

  “Don’t worry, Starboy,” Andra said as they drifted off to sleep. “We’ll find answers in the morning.”

  * * *

  When they woke the next day, Jector suggested Cypher remain at the camp to continue recuperating, but he refused to leave Kyro’s side. Kyro didn’t mind; Cypher’s presence was comforting and helped hold back the unsettling reminder of his father’s continued absence, now only in spirit though n
ot in body.

  Jector and Rumy led them onto the path between the trees and lumbered ahead, occasionally talking down toward them.

  “Be warned, not all giants are fond of humans. I have always liked them, but it took Tirin’s arrival to convince the rest of our little group that humans are fine creatures.” Jector cleared his throat, and it sounded like rocks clanging. “You may not be welcomed there.”

  “Indeed,” Rumy said. “We might not be either.”

  “It’s all right,” Kyro said. “It’s our only lead, so it’s worth the risk.”

  “Do they really dislike you that much?” Andra asked.

  The mechanical giants exchanged a look. “I am afraid they do. Their general, Sear, has long held a grudge against us. He believes our work to be of little importance,” Jector said.

  “And he did not appreciate the fact the Seven Elders did not see things the same way,” Rumy said. “Once long ago, they put Jector in charge. But everything changed after their sacrifice.”

  Jector fiddled with his red scarf. “Yes, one of the Elders gave me this scarf. I have not taken it off since. Once it marked me as the leader, though now it means little to anyone except me.”

  “With the Elders gone, Sear and his captains threw out all the Stitchers and Weavers and Framers and anyone else who sided with Jector openly,” Rumy said.

  Andra patted the back of Jector’s metal leg. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible. But they’ll have to listen to us. They can’t ignore something that involves the stars, I’m sure.”

  Jector and Rumy didn’t look quite as certain as Andra sounded, but they said nothing to contradict her. The forest around them grew darker as the day waned, the ancient tall trees of the Radamaks looming above them like monsters waiting to pounce. But with two giants on their side, Kyro felt braver than he had before, and he could tell Andra did too. With every step they took, his resolve solidified. There was much more to discover about the stars in the mountains. Even if the culprit couldn’t be found here, perhaps the solution would. Surely, if the Flyers who originally hung the stars heard about someone stealing them, they could be persuaded to help. Maybe they’d even hang new stars to replace the stolen ones and banish the vissla and vritrax to the prison behind the starlight net for good.

  Yes, the answer was hidden in these dark, dangerous hills. He and Andra only had to find it.

  They’d hiked for what felt like miles when Jector and Rumy began to mumble over their heads. Kyro couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the giants’ tone didn’t sound happy.

  “What’s wrong?” Kyro asked. But before they could answer, something huge swooped out of the sky and lifted Jector by his arms, carrying him toward the tops of the trees.

  “Stop!” Andra cried, running after their new friend without hesitation, before even Rumy reacted. Kyro had no doubt what the something was—one of the Flyers—though he was startled by its behavior. He and Cypher caught up with Rumy and Andra in a clearing of tall obsidian rocks that jutted up from the ground in sharp points. Jector and the interloper hovered over the center of the clearing.

  The Flyer did not seem friendly.

  “Put him down!” Andra yelled, folding her arms over her chest, but the Flyer paid her no attention.

  Jector’s voice floated down to them. “Sear, we mean no trouble, I promise.”

  The Flyer—Sear—scowled, his glowing yellow eyes flashing through the slits in his metal face.

  “You were warned not to return to our camp. We do not want your kind here. And to bring those filthy humans too! You know the consequences.” Sear prepared to release Jector over the pointed rocks, but paused when Rumy yelled up at him.

  “These humans need to speak to Pelag. That is all,” she said.

  “We only need a few minutes of his time, and then we will be on our way, never to bother you again. I swear on the stars,” Jector said.

  “What business do they have with Pelag?”

  Rumy put her metal hands on her hip joints. “They are Star Shepherds. They wish to discuss a matter concerning the stars with him.”

  A strange new light gleamed in Sear’s eyes. “The stars? That ought to be interesting.” He flew down and alighted on the ground, dropping Jector unceremoniously but safely between the trees at the edge of the clearing. “I’ll bring you to Pelag. You will have only a few minutes of his time, and then you must go on your way, never to return. If I see any of you”—he glowered at Kyro and Andra too—“here again, I will not be so generous. Come along. Quickly.”

  They hurriedly agreed. Sear stood a good two feet taller than Jector and with broader shoulders. Hulking arms hung down, almost vibrating with hidden strength. His face was a blank sheet of dark metal, except for the glowing yellow slits that served as eyes. Everything about him suggested power, speed, and impatience.

  Airborne, Sear was far faster than Andra and Kyro could ever hope to be. Jector and Rumy scooped each of them up so the giants could walk with longer strides to keep pace. Kyro clung to Cypher in his arms. In mere minutes, they reached a plateau not far from the peak of the mountain and the rest of the camp.

  Kyro and Andra gaped. The main camp dwarfed Jector’s camp in size. Everywhere they looked, there were tall houses and tents and mechanical giants flying to and fro through the air. It was a bustling city in comparison to Jector’s small encampment.

  Jector sighed. “I do not miss this place. The peace and quiet of our camp is vastly preferable.” Rumy nodded her agreement.

  The giants did not seem to have missed Jector or Rumy either. Skeptical looks and wary glances followed them. But Sear must have been important; no one troubled them.

  Kyro shivered. If Sear disliked humans so much, what would the leader think of them? Kyro had been hopeful this Pelag would help, but their greeting by the Flyers didn’t inspire confidence. Jector had warned them the Flyers wouldn’t be friendly, but Sear’s reaction to Jector seemed extreme, to say the least.

  Sear led them to the center of the camp and a house that was shorter than the others around it, but much wider as though to make up for it. Sear landed and knocked on the roof at the same time Jector and Rumy reached the house. They set Kyro and Andra on the ground, then Jector shifted from foot to foot nervously. His behavior had grown stranger the closer they’d gotten to the center of the camp, and Kyro couldn’t help but wonder why. Rumy seemed more suspicious of the others than anything else.

  The door opened, and out stepped the very last thing Kyro had expected to see in the Flyer camp.

  An ancient man, stooped over a cane, with long hair that was a shocking white and a beard down to his knees.

  “Yes, Sear, what is—” He stopped midsentence when he saw Kyro and Andra. “Who are you? Why did you bring them here, Sear?”

  The light flickered in Sear’s eyes. “They are Star Shepherds, Pelag, and they wish to talk to you about the stars.”

  The man grew still, regarding them for a moment with suspicion. “Well, all right. Since you came all this way. Come in.”

  There was no room for the mechanical giants in this house, but Jector gave Kyro and Andra a nudge to follow the man inside. Kyro didn’t feel right leaving him and Rumy behind when the Flyers clearly didn’t like them, but his curiosity was far too great.

  The inside of the house was an extraordinary assortment of machinery, some of it clockwork, some of it not. Along the far side, a bed suspended by metal poles began to wind back into the wall to give them more room. There was a kitchen area, with some strange machines whose function Kyro couldn’t hazard to guess, except the cold box that clicked and clanked. The center of the room had a couple chairs and a couch, circling another odd machine. It whirred and puffed warm steam into the air. Kyro had never seen anything like it. A pang struck him. His father would have loved this.

  “Where did you get all this?” Kyro asked. “Are you a clockma
ker?”

  Pelag snorted and took a seat on a chair. It had gears that turned at the touch of a button to lift his legs off the floor on an extra section of cushion. Kyro sat across from him on the couch, and Andra eyed it warily before joining him.

  “Well, what is it you want?” Pelag huffed.

  “We’ve come into the Radamak Mountains in search of help. My father and I are Star Shepherds, and a few weeks ago we discovered that someone is cutting down the stars. They’re being stolen, though we do not know why.”

  Pelag shrugged. “So? What does it matter if the stars fall? Isn’t it your job to put them back?”

  Kyro and Andra exchanged a surprised look. Of all people, they had thought a man who lived with giants would understand the ramifications.

  “Yes, and we do—when we can find them. But someone else is taking the stars after they fall before we can get to them. The stars hold back dark, terrible creatures. They’re returning now that there are holes in the starlight net.”

  Pelag laughed, then coughed. “Sounds like another Shepherd is encroaching on your territory. You just need to be faster. That is all.”

  “That isn’t it. I’ve seen the vissla myself,” Kyro objected.

  “Stars are dying. Shouldn’t this worry you?” Andra asked, exasperated at Pelag’s lack of reaction. “You’re the leader of the giants, and they’re the ones who hung the stars in the first place!”

  Pelag examined the knob of his cane, then sighed. “That was a very, very long time ago. For all we know, the dark creatures have all died out by now. And what proof have you that stars are dying? Why should I believe the word of children when I have been alive for so long and seen so much more than you?”

  Cold trickled over Kyro’s spine. “But we’re telling the truth.”

  Pelag glared. “Why should I believe that? I bear no love for Star Shepherds, boy. You served a purpose once, but that need has long since faded away.”