A Legend of Starfire

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A Legend of Starfire Page 5

by Marissa Burt


  When Wren woke in her bunk on the airship, she could feel the imprint of Robin’s hand on her shoulder. She rubbed the spot as if she could somehow clasp the girl’s hand. Robin was in danger. Someone had come, had shown up at that last moment when Wren was waking and had taken Robin, and Wren was the only one who knew. The tight fist of fear clamped around her chest as the rest of the dream came crashing back into her mind. Robin wasn’t the only one in trouble. Boggen was still alive. And he had found a way to force the gateway open. For all she knew he had already done so, and a whole army of Magicians was waiting for them there. She tossed aside the blankets and hurried to the door.

  “Simon,” she hissed at the space under the window, but there was no sound. Either Simon was invisible and asleep or he had left her cabin. Wren threw her robe over her shoulders. She couldn’t be bothered with Simon right now. She had to get to Cole and Mary. She yanked the door open and saw that she was already too late.

  SIX

  I saw a ship a-sailing

  A-sailing on the sea.

  And, oh! It was a-laden

  With secrets kept for thee!

  Ah, the Weather Changer joins us.” Fiddler William’s nasal voice now sounded treacherous. With a whispered rhyme, he wove a shimmering loop of stardust and, before Wren could do anything but utter a cry of protest, bound it tight around her wrists. Mary and Cole had similar bonds around their mouths and torsos, fixing them upright against the chairs that surrounded the galley table.

  Mary opened her eyes wide and shook her head at Wren, but Wren had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

  “Boggen’s alive!” Wren shouted desperately, as William shoved her roughly onto the bench seat under the big octagon-shaped window. “And he’s figured out how to force the gateway open!”

  William laughed mercilessly. “A little behind on your information, Weather Changer,” he sneered. “Mary and Cole already suspected Boggen was alive. Soon we will all get to meet him.” He patted the glimmering golden key that lay on the table in front of him. “And Boggen will have no need to force the gateway open. Not since I have this.”

  “No!” Wren gasped, realizing what he meant. “You can’t open the gateway to Nod.” She squirmed against the stardust bonds, but they burned hot against her wrists. “The stardust on Nod is tainted. The gateway is the only thing holding it back from Earth, and even it is corrupted. William, the Ashes already warned us. You can’t—”

  William’s slap took her breath away. Her cheek burned with the force of it.

  “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” William towered over her, and Wren hated herself for cringing away from him. He muttered a rhyme, and Wren felt the stardust ropes warm against her lips. She knew better than to struggle, but she tried a tentative whisper. She might as well have been mute. More bonds squeezed against her torso and waist, fixing her as securely to the bench as any metal chains.

  Seeming pleased, William took a step back. “The Ashes are fools, and their Crooked Man is a liar who means to destroy Nod. You would do well to remember that.” He gave Cole and Mary a scornful look. “And the Fiddler Council’s worthless deliberating only impedes progress. Their fear holds them back.” He pulled out a pair of leather gloves from a pocket in his jacket. “With access to Nod and all the Magicians have learned, think of what we could accomplish! The taint on the stardust is nothing to fear. With proper research and refinement, I can use it to the Alchemists’ advantage.” He pulled the gloves on, adjusting each finger meticulously. “Once I have perfected living stardust, none of this will matter. You will see.”

  Cole gave a muffled shout, wriggling in his chair, and then his face creased with pain as his stardust bonds burned him into submission again.

  Wren darted worried glances at both of them. She could see angry red marks on their skin, the evidence that they had not gone easily into captivity. Wren’s heart sped up. Not all of them were captives. Simon was out there somewhere, an unknown stowaway, and invisible to boot. She glanced around the room, wondering if he was with them even now. Simon. She willed him to be smart. Keep yourself hidden.

  William was leaning over the control panel, his gloved fingers sliding easily over the levers. How could he be so stupid? Wren remembered what she had learned about the Civil War, how the Alchemists fought against the Magicians, who wanted to subjugate ordinary people and who had even tried to use dark magic to steal the stardust from living things. In the Crooked House, that was one of the most forbidden areas of research, but apparently William thought he knew better. Wren had to stop him. She flexed her wrists. The stardust flared with light, burning into her flesh—not with the heat of a fire, but with the precision of an electrical burn. She stilled. There had to be another way, and she had to figure it out fast, because they were nearing the gateway.

  The huge octagonal window loomed over William, silhouetting his form with a brilliant display of stardust swirling in a rainbow net that waved gently like underwater coral. A huge asteroid-like object blossomed in the distance, growing ever larger as they drew nearer, until the entire view was dominated by the rocky outcropping. The net itself had caught on one of the formations that dotted the asteroid, and their vessel steered closer, aiming for one of a thousand clefts in the rock. The window was dwarfed by the scope of what must be the gateway’s exterior.

  Wren cast a questioning look over at Mary as if to ask for confirmation, but Mary only gazed ahead with tired, worried eyes. It had to be the gateway. Wren shifted to get a better view but was immediately slammed against the frigid metal wall as something clanked in the belly of the airship. The vessel stopped its forward motion and tilted to one side, sending the papers on the table sliding to the floor. If Wren hadn’t been bound fast, she too would have tumbled over, and it gave her a tiny flare of satisfaction to see William jolt to one side, unsteady on his feet.

  “Prepare for landing,” he hissed, covering his mouth, a gray look on his face. Wren’s stomach also felt the change in motion, and she pressed her cheek up against the icy wall, counting the long seconds. All of a sudden, it was over. The ship had stopped.

  Wren’s mouth felt dry and her knees wobbly. She peered out the window. The last time she had been at the gateway, she and Jack had fallen off Jack’s vessel, and she had blacked out before arriving. The Ashes had brought her to the platform that held the gateway. She felt a twinge of unease at what William had said. She hardly believed he was trustworthy, but what did she really know of the Ashes? Robin had said something similar, that the Crooked Man meant to destroy Nod. What if the Ashes had their own reasons for saving her and Jack, for sending her to the gateway?

  Wren couldn’t see the front of the airship, but they had pulled up alongside a shiny silver platform covered with grating. It formed a ramp that led up to an arched entrance that framed a familiar-looking space. Wren couldn’t see the entire cavern, but she did see that the gateway still held, its thick web of stardust stretching over the portal to Nod—the place where Boggen had whispered his evil lies and Jack had nearly died. William dragged Cole and Mary out first, using stardust to hurry them along.

  Wren glanced around desperately. Did Simon see what was going on? Would he come up with some kind of rescue plan? Now’s our chance! She pretended the force of her thoughts could somehow reach her friend. Now! While William is distracted! But whether Simon was aware or not, it didn’t matter. William returned and jerked Wren to her feet, pulling hard on her stardust leash.

  “Time for our Weather Changer to show us what she can do.” He yanked her after him, and Wren dragged her feet, trying to do anything to slow him down, but she only succeeded in increasing the burn from her bonds. It wasn’t just that William planned to open the gateway; he planned to make her do it. William shoved her toward the open hatch, not waiting for her to clamber down the ladder, and she tumbled to the rocky floor with a thud, her stardust bonds searing her flesh with fire. She could see the gateway, pulsing with a sickly green light, the aftereffect of what ha
d happened here with Jack and Boggen. She could see the scorch marks on the floor, the spot where she had funneled stardust into Jack’s chest, and she wanted to cry. Was it all for nothing? The tight box of emotions inside her leaped and hopped with fear and tension and worry. But she shoved it all away when William began to pull her with brute force toward the gateway. When they were standing in front of it, so close that Wren could sense the thrumming of the magic in the gossamer web, William leaned close, the stench of his breath causing Wren to gag.

  “I will loosen your bonds,” he said, “just enough so you can work the rhyme.” There was a flare of stardust, and she felt the pressure leave her mouth and wrists.

  “I won’t do it,” Wren said as soon as she could speak. “I’d rather die first.”

  “That’s what the others said, but I think you’ll be easier to persuade.” William’s laugh was hard. “You may be brave enough to lay down your life for what you’ve been told is the good of others, but will you pay such a price with the lives of your friends?” A knife appeared from his jacket pocket, and in two strides William was next to Cole, holding it up to his throat. Wren felt hot tears spring to her eyes.

  Cole looked at her steadily, no falcon on his shoulder this time, and he shook his head slightly. Wren knew what he meant. He too would offer his life to protect Earth from a plague of tainted stardust. Wren wavered. Could she really stand by and watch Cole die? But Mary was there, too, her face pale and determined, and though she was bound like a prisoner, she still somehow managed to look like a queen. She gave Wren a confident look, her eyes shining with encouragement.

  “I won’t do it, William,” Wren said, licking her lips. “I’ll never help you!”

  William sighed heavily. “I thought you would be foolish.” He resheathed the knife and moved to return to the airship. “I’ll have to get the other.”

  Before she saw him, Wren knew. There was only one other friend she had here, one other person William could use against her. Simon must have put up a valiant fight. He wasn’t even conscious, and his pale face was marked with stardust wounds. The invisibility tincture had worn off, so when William tossed his limp form out of the airship, he was clearly visible. And then came the cage carrying their falcons, tumbling onto the cavern floor next to Simon, where Coeur let out an enraged squawk. Wren glanced around, desperate. Were the Ashes nearby? Would they show up with their Crooked Man and the promised starfire and save them all? But nothing happened.

  Wren looked up at William, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. “You are a horrible person,” she said, the words thick on her tongue. “You would kill all these innocent people. Destroy all these lives?”

  “No,” William said, folding his leather-clad fingers and looking at her calmly. “You would kill them. Or perhaps you’ve had a change of heart?” He held out the golden key to her. “First you will cleanse the gateway. Then you will open it.” He grabbed Wren roughly by the elbow and shoved her toward the gateway. “Do it,” he said.

  “Do what?” Wren said hollowly. “The Ashes never told me how to cleanse the gateway. They said the Crooked Man would tell—”

  “Shut up!” William said, scraping his hands through his hair irritably. “We don’t need the Crooked Man. I found an ancient Magician’s rhyme that should work. You will use that.”

  Wren stared through blurry tears at the crumpled paper he handed her. What choice did she have? As if to remind her, he pulled out his knife and pointed it menacingly toward Simon. She scrubbed at her eyes to clear her vision and then she took the stardust he handed her and stumbled toward the gateway, moving as if in a trance. William told her the rhyme to say, and she forced the words out. He told her how to weave the stardust, and she did. Or she tried to. The stardust sat limp and unmoving in her hands. She let out a strangled laugh through her tears. “I can’t,” she said. “The stardust won’t respond.” Relief flooded through her. She wouldn’t have to do this awful thing after all. She couldn’t.

  “Impossible!” William said at first, but then as he realized that she really was trying and failing to work the stardust, he turned a scrutinizing gaze on her. “You, too, are losing the stardust,” he said in an observational voice.

  Wren redoubled her efforts. Now that he’d discovered her secret he’d probably kill them all. She slapped at the stardust, her sobs morphing into angry words like swords and then into ice that became a hard lump deep within her. William might force her to do this, he might think he had won, but he was wrong. She would figure out a way to make this wrong right. Just like she would figure out a way to make it up to Jack and Simon and all the others who were pawns in this terrible war.

  And then it was over. The stardust had escaped her hands, and Wren fell to the floor with it, a crumpled heap of exhaustion, waiting for William to do whatever horrible thing he planned next. But there was no horrible thing. Instead, William was studying her clinically, almost compassionately, one forefinger pressed against his top lip. “You may be burned out already.” He shook his head as though coming out of a trance. “No matter. Your loss of magic will make for interesting research later.” He studied the gateway for a moment, and Wren felt a glimmer of hope. If he wasn’t going to kill them, would William take them back to Earth? Even being his next research subject would be okay if only he would give up his dangerous plan. But he seemed to come to some sort of decision, and he shrugged his shoulders as though sloughing off a heavy weight.

  “We will deal with the taint later.” He hefted the golden key. “For now, we open the gateway,” he said—and shoved it into the lock.

  The gateway shimmered and then exploded into a blinding flash of green light. Wren shut her eyes tight and put her hands up to her ears to block out the shattering sound that accompanied the light. She felt her body blown back with the force of it, the cavern around her swimming with clouded colors.

  “Get back in the ship!” William shouted. He grabbed her by the elbows, and the cavern blurred around her as she was jostled up into the airship, then shoved through a doorway and onto the floor. Wren felt icy metal against her cheek, heard the rumble of the airship’s motor, but everything felt wrong, somehow. The atmosphere hummed with the energy of stardust, but there was a discordant note as well. The air felt electric and volatile. Wren opened her eyes. Simon’s crumpled form was next to her, and beyond him was the dented cage where the falcons lay silent. She was back in her cabin, but the stardust bonds were gone.

  Wren dragged herself to the door but wasn’t surprised to find it locked. She crawled back to the window, looking out at the gateway cavern, which was rapidly disappearing behind them. She grabbed at the wall, reaching for a handhold to steady herself. But then the whole ship jolted with a violent lurch, so forceful that Wren was catapulted to the floor. She worked to pull herself, inch by inch, back up to the window, but she saw only empty space beyond the trailing stardust web. The gateway was gone, replaced by a diminishing cluster of pulsing green stardust. She felt like someone had punched her hard in the stomach. William hadn’t just opened the tainted gateway. He’d destroyed it. And now they were stuck on the other side.

  “Wren?” Simon’s bleary voice came from his spot on the floor.

  Wren shoved aside her fear and guilt and turned to her friend. “Are you okay? What did he do to you?” she asked, taking in the welts on his face and his blooming black eye. Simon ignored her question, pressing himself up to a seated position.

  “The gateway’s open, isn’t it?” Simon said it as though it was an irrefutable fact.

  Wren nodded shamefully, and began woodenly telling the halting story of what had happened at the gateway. “I couldn’t cleanse it. The taint is spreading.”

  “It’s not your fault. William is the one who’s responsible,” Simon said, and Wren was thankful for his words, even if they rang false to her own ears. Whatever happened now, whatever happened because of the gateway being gone—it would be because she had failed to cleanse it.

  Simon rummage
d through his pockets, pulled out a tiny bottle, and peered at it through his good eye. “I think I have enough invisibility tincture to cover us.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Wren said. “We’re locked in.”

  The airship had shifted directions, and the window showed a different view, a reddish-orange globe looming in front of them.

  “That’s another planet.” Wren stumbled over the words, hardly believing what she was seeing. She hurried toward the window, where the fiery hues were taking on the shape of atmospheric clouds. The journey on this side of the gateway hadn’t taken nearly as long. Where in the universe were they? She knew in her head that Nod was somewhere in another galaxy, but to see in reality that the gateway had taken them to uncharted space . . . “It’s amazing,” she breathed.

  “So that’s it,” Simon said as he moved to join her. “Nod, land of the Magicians.”

  SEVEN

  This little Fiddler went to new worlds.

  This little Fiddler stayed home.

  This little Fiddler had stardust.

  This little Fiddler had none.

  As they drew near the planet’s surface, Wren pressed close to the icy window to get a better view. Rolling brown hills spotted with reddish clay outcroppings gave way to a brilliant green carpet of vegetation. She couldn’t tell if it was trees or bushes or plain old grass, but it stretched for miles, broken only by circles of pearly white, which she had to assume were lakes of some kind.

  “Nod must be Earthlike,” Simon said, chewing on his pencil eraser. “I mean, of course it’s Earthlike if people can live there, but for even plant life to be similar . . . I wonder if the animal life . . .” He trailed off, his eyes growing wide.

  Simon had been a bundle of nonstop talking and hypothesizing since they had first entered Nod’s atmosphere. Wren felt the same nervous energy and stuffed it far down inside, tuning out Simon’s endless theories.

 

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