by Dan Haring
Vissla. Many, many vissla.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The shadows in the forest came alive, seeping out from between the trees to surround Kyro and his friends. The cold and ice crawled over everything near them—Kyro’s catapult, his worktable, the star casings, even Cypher’s tail that had ceased its wagging the moment Kyro was injured.
Sadness fell over Kyro. Pelag lay not far from him, the life slowly slipping out of them both, helpless to do anything to stop the madness Sear wished to unleash. The possessed giant had begun to rant again, and Kyro couldn’t help but hear, though he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open for more than a minute or two now.
Sear towered over Pelag’s body, sneering at the ancient man. “I found your heart weeks ago, old man. But I hid it. You inspired the others to continue cutting down the stars. It was useful to keep you around for a bit longer. Luckily, we still had a few of the old lanterns the Elders used to contain the light that held the darkness at bay before they devised the plan to craft stars and form the starlight net. Now, we shall cut all the stars down!” Sear threw his long metal arms into the air and cackled. “And with you gone, Pelag, there will be no one left to bear the secrets of crafting stars. The world will at last return to its true, rightful form—a world ruled by night, and the vissla and our kin.”
Pelag coughed and wheezed, but managed to squeak out. “Sear, you have lost your way. You were good and loyal for many centuries.” He coughed again. “It is the vissla inside you. I know the giant you truly are is in there somewhere. Fight it, Sear, or all hope is lost!”
Sear threw his head back and laughed with a clashing roar. “Fool. The vissla and I are one. And of one mind. You shall die, and we shall rule.”
Kyro could hardly focus anymore. The crash of the battle that continued to rage around them had faded to a dull roar. Above him, the faces of Andra and his father whispered and leaked teardrops as their hands stroked his hair and face.
“Kyro,” whispered his father. “I’m so sorry I disappeared on you. I thought I could stop the stars from being taken on my own, but I was wrong. I shouldn’t have left you. You’ve been a better partner than I’ve ever given you credit for. Just hang on, son. Please. Then we can watch the stars together. I promise.”
Kyro closed his eyes. He’d waited so long to hear words like those. Waited so long to have his father back. He tried to say something comforting, but all that came out was a groan.
Andra gripped his hand. “Don’t you dare give up, Starboy.”
Kyro would miss them both. He didn’t want to leave them now, not really. He wanted to stay. But the pull was magnetic. Irresistible.
From the corner of his eye, he spied Pelag motioning to him. Kyro blinked, not sure what the old man wanted. His brain seemed to be thinking through a thick fog, slow and ambling and in no hurry.
Suddenly Kyro realized that Pelag was gesturing to something that rested against Kyro’s outstretched arm. It remained where it had fallen after Sear’s blow, and Kyro hadn’t yet had the will or desire to try to move his arm much. Moving hurt. But Pelag seemed to think the thing was important. Kyro could see in the old man’s eyes that the pull to the other side was dragging him away too, but he resisted just to communicate this to Kyro.
Kyro wrapped his fingers around the object and managed to pull it close enough to examine it. Warm shock melted some of the ice inside him as he realized it was a shard from the star’s heart, still aglow with life and light. Pelag motioned to his chest, miming an action, and with a sudden rush Kyro understood.
He knew what he needed to do.
Kyro moved his hand over his heart, positioning the shard just above it. His breath was shallow and gasping as it was, and he didn’t dare to examine the cause. He glanced over at Pelag again; the old man smiled and nodded and mimed the action one more time. Kyro wasn’t sure what the shard could do exactly, but Pelag seemed certain this would help.
Kyro rested his hands on top of the shard and shoved the piece of star into his chest as hard as he could. Andra, who had been watching this silent exchange, understood without him having to ask. She placed her own hands on top of Kyro’s and pushed the shard the rest of the way into his chest.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Amid the searing pain, Kyro could hear the vissla screaming. He vaguely saw the shadow of the possessed giant lunge for him, though there was nothing he could do to stop him. But Sear never reached Kyro. Something else—Jector, Kyro suspected—pounced on the opportunity and sliced Sear’s head from his body. The horrible scream of metal on metal rivaled the vissla cries. Then the giant’s head rolled over the ground, settling near where Kyro lay. Sear’s black-glowing eyes flickered out into a dull, dead gray.
Pain surged through his body anew, but Kyro could make no sound. He didn’t have the strength anymore. But he knew his father was there, and so was Andra. They held on to him, keeping him from slipping away as the shard from the star’s heart melted into him, becoming one with his human form.
Suddenly, warmth flooded his veins. Brilliant light flared, pouring from his eyes and mouth. Everything was bright as day despite the late hour. The screams of the vissla reached a fever pitch as they shrank back from the light. To Kyro, everything else had gone still. There was only the warmth, the light, and the feeling of those two things coursing through his broken body. Changing it. Renewing it. Healing it.
Kyro’s back arched as a new burst of light exploded from his chest, bathing the battleground in pure, white light. He couldn’t see the extent of it, but it at least reached all the way into the trees and as far as the village. Later, there would be those who’d say it could even be seen from the harbor.
The vissla went silent.
The light faded, and Kyro sat up, released from whatever hold it had on him. He touched his chest gingerly, marveling at the new skin that had healed over the wound. Cypher leapt into his lap, immediately covering his face in kisses. Tirin wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him close.
“Thank the stars you’re all right, Kyro,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
Kyro hugged his father back. Perhaps this time things really would be different. And he might not feel so forgotten anymore.
“I knew you’d make it, Starboy.” Andra grinned, though Kyro suspected that was a tear or two he spied shimmering in the corner of her eyes.
He glanced around. “The vissla. They’re all gone.”
Andra nodded. “They were no match for you.”
Pelag moaned nearby. “Kyro,” he whispered through a smile. “I’ll be gone soon. At last.” The ancient man fumbled to reach into his pocket, then stretched his arm out over the ground toward Kyro. “Take this.”
Kyro disentangled himself from his friends and knelt near the dying man. Pelag took his hand and pressed something cool and metal into it. “Keep this close, always. Someone must protect the secrets of the stars. I have carried that burden much too long. Now it is up to you. With this”—Pelag gestured to the object in Kyro’s hand—“and that”—he pointed to Kyro’s chest—“you will have everything you need to learn those secrets and keep them safe. I was wrong, Kyro. Very wrong. I should have listened when you came to me. The evil remains, and the stars are needed to keep the world safe. Maybe more than that. Take this task seriously. You must not forget, not like I did. Promise me.”
Kyro opened his hand to find a very old, ornate key lying in his palm. “I promise.”
“Then I can finally be at peace.” Pelag’s chest rose and fell one last time, then the light faded from his eyes. He was still.
Tirin put his hand on Kyro’s shoulder. “From now on, we’ll protect the stars together, son. That’s a promise.”
That was all Kyro had ever wanted. To feel like a part of his own family again.
Chapter Thirty-Six
With Sear felled, Pelag dead, a
nd the vissla banished, the giants ceased fighting the Star Shepherds. Many of them appeared dazed, which made Kyro wonder how many others aside from Sear had been possessed by one of the dark creatures. Whatever the cause, whether for Pelag’s desperation or Sear’s dark aims, their reason for fighting was gone. Many of the Flyers simply zoomed off into the night, headed in the direction of their camp in the Radamak Mountains. Others like the Crafters and Orers remained behind to help clean up the destruction wrought by the battle.
Soon Star Shepherds and giants worked side by side, picking up the pieces of broken catapults and mechanical giants, and fixing what they could. Captain Salban, Doman, and the rest of the villagers joined in too, much to Kyro’s surprise and gratitude. Without all this help, it would’ve taken days to clean up.
Jector stooped next to Kyro. Tirin regarded him almost as though he was seeing the giant for the first time, despite having spent several days living with him.
“I am glad to see you have found yourself, Tirin,” Jector said. “It is good to meet you again.”
Tirin nodded. “I am not entirely sure what happened to me or how I came out of it, but I suspect I am greatly indebted to you and your friends.”
“Something shocked you into a trance in the Radamak Mountains,” Kyro said. “Jector and his friends took you in. Apparently, you were very good at fixing them, despite the trance.”
Tirin laughed. “That wasn’t a dream then? I do remember something sort of like that. How very strange and wonderful. Though I am glad to be back to normal now.”
Kyro scuffed his shoe on the grass. “About that. I tried sprinkling stardust on you in the hopes it would undo whatever the vissla did to you. It didn’t seem to work at first, but perhaps it took a little time to sink in.”
His father smiled and put his arm around Kyro’s shoulders. “Perhaps it did. I’ve always known stardust had protective qualities. It could be capable of much more than we realize.”
Jector scooped up something shimmering on the ground nearby—the shattered remains of the star that had borne Pelag’s heart. He handed the pieces to Kyro, who took them reverently.
“This is a very old star. You may wish to keep it. The older the star, the more powerful it is.”
“What do you mean?” Kyro asked.
“They—and the one in your chest—will give you some protection. And a better understanding of the stars.”
Kyro rubbed his chest. He no longer felt any pain at all, just a pleasant sort of warmth. “Do you know what happened when I put the shard in my chest? Pelag showed me what to do, but he didn’t have time to explain.”
Jector frowned. “As far as I know, this has never been done before. I believe that, just like the Elders gave their hearts to the stars to protect humankind, this star gave its heart to you. It needed to meld with you in order to protect you and banish the vissla. But who knows what else it might do?” The giant shrugged.
“What about the lantern? I carried that for far longer than I’ve ever seen a star survive without hanging in the sky.”
“Yes, that was how the Elders first kept the darkness away. The lanterns are imbued with the Elders’ magic so that the light won’t fade. There are not many left. You should keep that safe too.” Jector rose to his feet. “Good luck, Kyro. And thank you for alerting us to the danger to the stars. I do not care to imagine what might have happened had you not.” Jector managed a mechanical shudder, then lumbered off to help the others.
Kyro tucked the broken pieces of the star back into the lantern. It might come in handy later, especially if this would help them retain a little of their magic.
As Jector left Kyro’s side, Captain Salban made her way over with a strange expression on her face. She pulled Kyro aside and put her hands on both his shoulders, staring him straight in the eyes. “How are you feeling?”
A wave of uneasiness washed over him at her question. “Fine,” he said. “Better than fine, really. I thought I was done for, but that shard of star heart healed me somehow.”
Salban stared at him for a moment longer, then released her grip. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. But Pelag has given you a greater responsibility than you may realize. That star gave you its heart.”
Kyro frowned. “That’s what Jector said.”
“Do you recall the stories of how the Elders and their heirs gave a part of their hearts to the stars?”
He nodded.
“Well, perhaps this is something like the reverse.” Salban smiled wryly. “Maybe that star will live on in you.”
Her words made him all the more curious as to what Jector meant by a better understanding of the stars. A shiver brushed over Kyro’s shoulders, but he chalked it up to the night breeze. “It helped me live, so I’m grateful for it.”
“As you should be.” The captain’s eyes narrowed. “What was it that Pelag gave you before he died?”
Kyro took the key from his pack, and Salban’s eyes went wide. “Well, well, well,” she murmured. “It seems he’s given you all his secrets after all. Keep that safe, and keep it close. Don’t tell anyone else you have it. The fewer people who know, the better.”
“Why?” Kyro asked.
“Trust me. Promise me you’ll keep it secret.” Captain Salban’s face was unusually grim.
“I promise.” Kyro decided to risk pressing the question. “But what does it unlock? You must know if you feel the need to make me promise.”
Salban’s eyes twinkled as she leaned closer. “Clever boy. It unlocks the secrets of the stars. Someday perhaps I’ll tell you a story about it. Until then, guard it well.” Kyro’s mouth hung open, and she patted him on the shoulder and smiled. “Now go join your father. I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do.”
Kyro did, though he was still curious to learn more about the captain and her connection to the stars. As she resumed helping the cleanup, Andra approached her with sparkling eyes. “Captain, before you and your crew leave, might I see your ship by any chance? Sailing sounds like a wonderful adventure!”
The captain laughed. “It is indeed. Come by the docks tomorrow. I’ll give you a tour.”
“And perhaps I can hear about some of your own adventures?”
“I suppose it’s only fair, since I’ve heard all about yours.”
Andra grinned and continued working beside Captain Salban and occasionally asking her questions.
Kyro and his father worked side by side, retrieving fallen stars and placing them in new cases as quickly as possible. But when Kyro stumbled upon the wreckage of one particular star, his breath caught in his chest. The glass case was shattered, but the star’s light still shone bright and silver through the mess. Next to it was a handkerchief, and a little heart and puppy both made of gears.
This was his mother’s star. The very first one he and his father had returned to the heavens.
Kyro tugged on his father’s sleeve, unable to find the words.
“What is it, son?” Tirin said. Kyro pointed, choking back a sob swelling in his throat.
His father knelt beside the broken casing. “It’s hers,” he whispered.
Without hesitation, Tirin carefully picked the star and the tokens out of the wreckage and carried them gently to a new case set out nearby. He set them inside and placed his hand on Kyro’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry, this time we can save her.” Together they secured the top of the case over the star and set it with the others ready to return to the sky.
With all the extra help, the job was soon nearly done. Andra and Tirin stood beside Kyro as Flyers began to soar straight up into the sky. So many stars had been cut down, and too many catapults destroyed. Now, the quickest way to keep the stars safe was the original way—by giant, flying straight into the sky and hanging the stars with care in the self-hooking glass and steel cases of the Star Shepherds. Jector personally hung the star wi
th Sanna’s tokens—right over the Drenn watchtower so it would sparkle there for long after new owners had moved in.
Kyro took Andra’s hand and smiled as they watched the stars in the sky increase, sparkling and twinkling as brightly as ever. And with every star that joined the sky, Kyro felt a slight tug, right where that shard should be, as if it would have liked to join them if it could.
When all the stars were hung, the crowd began to disperse. The villagers went home, and Flyers helped the Star Shepherds return to their many corners of the world. Andra and Tirin helped Kyro back inside the watchtower to rest.
And all the way, Kyro glowed a soft, white light.
Epilogue
Night fell softly over the village of Drenn, painting the sky with dreamy dark strokes. The stars peeked out, twinkling high above, as Kyro and Andra walked the now well-worn path from the village to the Star Shepherd’s watchtower. When they reached the workshop, a man opened the door and bid Kyro’s father good night.
“Good evening, Kyro, Andra,” said Shane, the village leader and tailor. “Just picking up this little contraption here.” He held up a small clockwork machine. “It’s supposed to make sewing easier and faster. I may be able to take on more repairs and commissions if it works.”
“Very nice,” Andra said with a knowing look at Kyro. Only a few months ago, Shane had told Tirin and Kyro they were unwelcome in the village. But now, thanks to Tirin’s ingenious clockwork inventions, the villagers were warming up to him. After Kyro and his father returned from the Radamak Mountains, Tirin had become a new man. Something had changed in him at last, as if he’d woken up from a long, deep sleep. He converted his workshop into a new clock shop and threw his heart into it. Kyro had taken over the responsibilities for the stars—with the blessing of the Star Shepherd Council, of course. Andra came over to help every chance she got.
They waved to Shane and entered the clock shop, just in time to see Kyro’s father closing up. He stopped what he was doing and put his arm around his son’s shoulders. “You’re just in time, Kyro. It’s been a while since I made a real dinner, and I know you need nourishment while you watch those stars. Plus, I wanted to try out this new oven I’ve been working on. There’s a casserole in the kitchen for you two to share.”