The Shadow of Our Stars: The Tales of Evinar

by Alexander Richter

  “My liking? I’ve merely rewarded the boy for his kindness! Ralnor, I understand your concern old friend, but he is not responsible for the history of his ancestors. As I reminded you, his kindness has been paid to us. Are we to forget the things our people did long ago as well?”

  “Just actions! We need our revenge!” Ralnor continued, “or they’ll do it again. How many more of our woman and children can we spare to those that cross through to dominate our homeland. We’ve made the mistake once already. Our great-grandfather made the same mistake and look at what we have to show for it— a riverbank of stinky fish. Do you remember the days where they served us? How I long for that natural order to return.”

  “That was long ago. Before our time. Why should he suffer for another human’s sins?”

  “Are we not still suffering from them?” Ilyana said pleading with her husband. “If what Lyra says is true, we may relive the terrors of our past.”

  “Rightfully so, but as leader of this household and clan, I will not place judgment on those who are innocent based on whim! If it be Soren’s will, then the boy's arrival is a mere sign that we are to prepare for an unforeseeable future, not strike him down as he sleeps. The risk of being wrong weighs too greatly over me. I will not hear to any more of this kind of brooding and plotting.”

  Ralnor beat his fist over the wooden railing. “If you won’t do something then—“

  “If you act under your command, then you will label yourself a rouge and you know what we do with those sorts. The boy will leave tomorrow at first light with his companion to wherever it is they desire. And that is the end of it. A man will not be held responsible for the errors of their past, just like you will not waste petty time on quarrels of a time you were not part of.”

  Ilyana and Lyra dipped their faces in disagreement as Ralnor stormed off back to the combines of his volitare. Pyria trailed behind him. Faelar’s face was stern and serious. The wiry strands on his pointed ears stood upright as he combed over the concern in his wife’s voice, but he ultimately returned to puffing on his driftwood pipe.

  Another man’s sins? Billy thought to himself remembering very well the story Rose told him earlier about the woman who came to Evinar, but that was three lunar cycles ago. What was there for Ralnor to quarrel about this time?

  Unable to take a breath, Billy disappeared through the front door with a weak burning lantern. A light rain drummed off the river neighboring him. He had to see the waters once again. He needed to be sure of what he saw. This time he would not ascend through the hole, but instead out the cave Lyra showed him.

  The night echoed; dull hums of the winds accompanied by the rain’s pattering blinded Billy’s senses. He ventured deeper into the desolate abyss. Winged creatures screeched overhead. Bats gave him the creeps. Billy didn’t dare look up. He might see their red eyes glowing like fireballs.

  Clicks and bings bounced from jagged surface to jagged surface. Breathe, he reminded himself. The waters will be close.

  The lantern’s help died just before the crystalline lake. He’d have to come back without light. Hopefully, it would be light by then.

  Billy followed the routine as before with Lyra. Fortunately enough, the watercraft ride gave less of an urge for him to puke over its railing. He was no longer a visitor. He had been here before. The water remembered. A milky white beam focused over the platform. Seeing its reflection ended what troubled his mind. His fear had vanished. Billy approached the basin. There was still water inside its hold. “Don’t show me killing elves” he whispered in the dark.

  He peered in apprehension. It was just as it had before. The basin rippled into an image. Lochwald was burning, the people were rounded up, and the great castle sitting in the skyline was ablaze. But of all the images, one was new to Billy. He was not alone. There was another alongside him in battle, a woman. She rode a flying lizard of obsidian with talons longer than any man’s forearm. Sticky fire funneled out of the beast’s mouth over Lochwald. It was inescapable.

  “Rixim!” the rider yelled and the beast acted. The rider left a trail of fiery bread crumbs wherever she went.

  Who is it? The face, show me the face. Billy shifted his glaze but jumped back startled. The woman was glaring directly into him, looking at his heart.

  “I have waited a long time for you,” the woman said, her frosted hair fluttered in the vengeful winds. “It has already been decided for you. Your heart will be mine!”

  The bodies of Bradbury’s lie at the base of her throne.

  “What have you done to them!”

  “What was necessary,” she sneered. “We cannot spare the risk—“

  “They were my friends!”

  The woman’s lips curled. “I was once you, many, many years ago. I came to Evinar with the same intentions—pure, but how easily the likes of them treated me. It is our duty to rule over those who cannot lead themselves. It is in your royal blood.”

  “You’re lying! I haven’t any royal blood. I’m just an orphan.”

  “One of the many lies you’ve been force to know as truth.” The screams grew louder, more shrill. “You have no memory of his parents? Not even their names? What will you do when you discover the truth? Be at my side and together and we will set right the errors of history.”

  “Who am I?”

  “Join me and your questions will be answered.”

  “I…I…I—“

  Starlight reflected ran down the woman’s blade but bounced in the pool's clear water. A rumbling came crashing down unexpectedly, splitting the basin in half. The ground flexed in response as fractures spread like poison over the stone. The room began to shake. It was going to collapse.

  With hairy little fingers clutching a weapon, Lyra dashed at Billy.

  He had taken no notice of the ship while it slipped away in the waters, only to return with not just Lyra but her uncle Ralnor as well. And they were armed to the tooth with weapons.

  “If Faelar he can’t do what needs to be done, then I will!” Ralnor leaped from the boat’s stern, a giant hammer in hand. Billy narrowly dodged the strike. Lyra came at him again. Both of their faces lightened with rage. Their eyes, bloodshot. They would kill him at any cost, he knew.

  Lyra’s sword chopped towards Billy’s throat, missing due to a bad footing.

  Boulders fell from the ceiling and cratered around them.

  “If we don’t leave now, we’ll all die,” Billy said feeling the ground shake.

  “If it be,” Ralnor’s hammer aimed for him. “Then so be it!” But he missed again.

  Billy was unarmed.

  They had every advantage. But Lyra was careless with her blade. Down to the way she held the sword against the pommel, this wasn’t a skill she had much practice in. He could tell. Violet matched her in form.

  Ralnor stood aside to allow his niece an opportunity to be remembered through their history. “Thanks, Uncle,” she said. Her next move was as wild as the first, she chopped like a savage animal. They danced in a formation requesting blood for blood. The cold steel connected with Billy’s forearm, slicing through the layer of his clothing meeting warm blood.

  “Ouch!” he yelped, grasping his arm with pressure. The flower he’d been given fell into the waters, and drifted away. It sunk to the bottom along with his trust. Rocks continued to fall around them sending jets of liquid up in flocks. The watercraft waved in the rippling waters from side to side. Crimson stained his freckled skin, rolling down on the tips of his fingers.

  “Blood!” yelled Ralnor in victory.

  Lyra’s savage grin deepened. Billy was helpless and wounded. It was her turn to strike and kill her prey.

  “Why are you doing this?” Billy pleaded. Blood seeped with persistence.

  “So others may live. One life taken may save the lives of many.” Lyra did not waste another moment conversing and raised her silver-stained blade above her head. “You shouldn’t have stopped in Lochwald, but I’m almost elated you did. I wouldn’t have had
the pleasure of killing you.”

  Billy watched as the light of the moon glistened from the silver. His life would not be ending tonight. Not here. There were too many questions to be answered.

  Lyra struck with an amateur carelessness. Her knuckles clenched white.

  Billy somersaulted, hitting the hilt of the blade, as he labored for his life. He clenched his teeth then used his head to knock Lyra out.

  The blade fell to the floor and Billy dived after it.

  “You little—“ said Ralnor as he stepped in front of Lyra’s disoriented body. “I had the damnedest feeling I’d be killing you when we first met.” His hammer drug on the vessel floor. His muscles had forgotten what battle felt like— how intoxicating it was. “I’ll make quick work of you.”

  A boulder fell from the ceiling landing on the platform. Billy dove into the water, hitting it like a sheet of ice, the mirror broke and protected him. What remained of the pedestal had been destroyed. As the boulder settled, Ralnor clawed through the debris to find Billy. “I won’t let you leave alive!” he called. “The risk is too great.”

  Billy surfaced from the water climbed the other side of the watercraft, Lyra’s sword in hand. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  Ralnor charged like a bear. His eyes had glazed over. He could hear no pleas. With his hammer well over his head, in a killing blow, he charged at Billy ready to finish him off.

  Blinded by the light and eyes closed, Billy thrust the sword forward and felt the steel rip into flesh and bone. Ralnor’s eyes lost focus as he exhaled his last breath. His hammer fell to the floor.

  Billy tossed Lyra’s stained sword into the turquoise abyss, ashamed.

  “NO!” Lyra yelled.

  Billy boarded the vessel, pushing off with an oar from shore, to leave Lyra on the island.

  “Don’t leave me!” she yelled.

  But he ignored her.

  The ceiling had all but fallen in.

  When he was safely back on the shore, a stone fell from the ceiling and smashed the vessel into ruins. It sunk through the turquoise until meeting its final resting place.

  He took off like a fox towards the cave mouth while the tunnel collapsed behind him. Darkness swallowed one of its secrets, as he broke from the mouth’s exit.

  One by one, the small window illuminated as the thunder of the fallen stones echoed over the land. Covered in sweat and Ralnor’s blood, Billy broke to find Rose at Faelar’s volitare. “We have to go now!” he said as she awoke startled. They wasted no time collecting their things, and dashed for the cart. Rose strapped on the bridal around Lapis’s beefy neck.

  “Yah!” she bellowed from the depths of her diaphragm. Lapis released a loud grunt, frightening Billy to his core. Her eyes grew dark and her legs picked up in speed unfathomable for an ox.

  The cart sped like an arrow over the driftwood bridge crossing the Winding River and disappeared back into the darkness towards Fayhollow.

  “That was close,” Billy said soaked, breathless, and a killer.

  25

  A murder of crows plunged towards a city skyline.

  The pungent odor of sewage turned Elise’s stomach. Her numb hand pressed tightly over the wound on her right shoulder where the wolf’s mark was. Pain pulsed down the length and throbbed like a doubling heartbeat. A stiff ribbon of crimson formed around the wound’s punctures. Winter’s wind had frozen the wound shut.

  “Have mercy on me, Soren,” Elise said as she rubbed Moonlight’s neck.

  The fingers on her right arm were useless as she attempted to wiggle them. They would not obey her command. She would need stitches if she wanted to keep alive. Time was running out. Infection could have already to set in.

  Her mind circled the thought. What sorts of things dwelled in the saliva of a wolf? She remembered what the stories told, and although she did not think she would be under the moon’s mercy, an infection that close to her vital organs would do her in. It would destroy her very dreams of escape.

  In an attempt to conserve energy, Elise allowed Moonlight to lead the way. They entered a wooden gate into the city of Fayhollow, a poor trader’s city south of Embir. Outside of the impenetrable stone walls, Fayhollow was left to much of its own devices. The city, which was ungoverned by the King, was a hot spot for shady characters looking to lie low. Dark alleyways ran rampant, patrolled by moody figures who covered their faces and prowled the night with corrupted intentions, to rob or murder.

  The city was built on unsolid footings. Stone structures fat around the waist towered with stone gargoyles to accompany the unruly landscape. Slums sprawled out as far as the eye could see with thatched gabled roofs and broken stained-glass scattered on the roadways. Windows were boarded to keep the midnight chill from blowing out bedside fires and to erase the peace of mind’s of its inhabitants. Fayhollow resembled a city torn by the evil doings of countless civil wars. It was here where the sword’s buyer was. At the Headless King Inn, a place that she had grown rather accustomed to finding contracts, as they paid triple what others could afford.

  Elise and Moonlight trotted deeper into the city on a crumbling roadways Whistling and catcalls met her arrival, none of which came as a surprise. Even the worst of the worst scum in Fayhollow knew who she was. A fearsome deserter, but an injured one, who was now utterly defenseless and ripe from the taking.

  The horse’s hooves clicked and clopped startling the stray felines back into their dens and summoning the attention of her rarity. Horses were rare in Fayhollow, but so was an adequate food source. Her pale skin was a light that illuminated the wickedness in the streets. Eyes narrowed in bewilderment. Her head hung high and alert. The gash on her neck spoiled her pure beauty.

  The Headless King Inn was located on Cross Lane alongside an old chapel. Built as an afterthought, the inn was once welcome to those who traveled to worship in its renowned presence. Tall vaulted ceilings held by solid stone buttresses were an architectural marvel, once hosting the King’s grand coronation many moons ago. But the chapel’s bones fractured in forsaking and the holy building became an epicenter for the criminal organizations leaching from Fayhollow. There was nothing to worship anymore, but the sword and the stone, a religion all its own.

  “Aye there, darling… care for a dance?” said a drunk thespian while he roasting has yellowing hands over an open flame. His band of companions joined the taunting as they sucked back on their hard liquors and made vulgar remarks.

  They took a shortcut onto West Row, Fayhollow’s orphan district, to prevent riding down Hind Street, where most of the murders occurred. Ropes of clothes stretched across the street with tattered clothing and singular socks. A shaggy three-legged dog hopped into a hay pile after a cat and a roster hung upside-down from the eve of a roof.

  Whispering. Elise heard it intensify as she proceeded the row. Children of all ages, cursed by poverty and destined for ghastly lives, peaked out from their shadowed hiding places gossiping. Her heart ached to see little girls wearing eye patches and boys who were missing hands, a punishment for stealing.

  West Row was the only place these children had a chance. United, they were strong enough to protect themselves against evildoers, but divided they were wolf’s bait— captured to be sold or worst, forced into the very lifestyle they were avoiding. It was the same life that most undoubtedly claimed the lives of parents, brothers, and sisters. Elise’s heart broke at the thought.

  A large cracking sound slapped their air like a whip. Moonlight reared in fear, almost bucking Elise off in the act. “It’s okay,” she grunted, as her good arm steadied her.

  “Who are you?” echoed a voice, originating from the heavens.

  Moonlight would not press forward.

  “No one,” Elise said, turning her head to find the origin of the voice. “Merely, passing through.”

  “Lies,” a choir of voices said.

  “I’m headed for the Headless King. That is my business.”

  “And why would you head there?�
�� the voice responded. “That place is evil.”

  “Business and I will not reveal anymore.”

  One by one, children left the shadows and surrounded Moonlight. They carried an assortment of repurposed tools, rebuilt into weapons. Filth and grime-coated their innocently faces. Their eyes were bloodshot from countless nights of no sleep.

  “Did he send you?” a boy no older than eleven said. He had jet black hair and wore a tunic that had been patched several times with different fabrics. A nasty bubbling scar ran over his Adam’s apple— the mark of war. “Tell Nix to leave us alone.”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about. Nix? Never even heard the name. It seems like there’s a misunderstanding going on. If you’d be so kind to step aside and let me pass through, that would do us all a great favor. I won’t be halted any longer.” Despite the desperate appearance of the children on West Row, Elise had every intention to protect herself. There was no interest in fighting children, especially the very ones she pitied, but she would if it came to it.

  The children lowered their makeshift weapons.

  Elise’s eyes grew heavy. The light dimmed from the row. Her shoulder was beginning to ooze again. The sight of it nearly made her pass out.

  “You cannot be too careful these days. Nix has been attempting to infiltrated our row and take the lot of us since last moon.” His gaze caught the red leaking from her shoulder.

  Three little girls, no bigger than a dwarf, stretched out their hands to touch Moonlight. Their fingers were not bigger than a green bean and their nails, dirty. Moonlight neighed as he orphans touched the only hope and beauty their eyes had seen.

  Elise dismantled from Moonlight, to stretch her strained legs. There wasn’t a section in her thighs that didn’t burn like a fire. Her muscles felt abused and they locked up in protest. “I understand…”Her eyesight fuzzed as she watched herself fall from behind herself. The orphans in front turned into wisps and she tasted iron from the back of her throat. The ground started to shake and voices grew into mumbles. Elise was seeing ghosts. And then West Row disappeared from beneath her.