Starfinder: A Novel of the Skylords (19 page)

After an hour, they went looking for Merceron. The crystal windows beamed moonlight into shafts, lighting their way. Moth listened for Merceron, but all he could hear was the constant wind around and through the towers. The library yawned, gloomy and haunted. Moth peered back and realized they were lost.

“Where’s the archway?” he asked. “Did we turn?”

Fiona looked about, puzzled by the darkness and look-alike shelves. Esme sat obliviously on her shoulder, waiting for another treat.

“We’ll go back,” she said. “Merceron will find us.” They turned to retrace their steps, then saw movement at the end of the hall. A flash of wings made Moth grin.

“There you are!”

A ray of moonlight struck the figure as it stepped out from the shelves. Small, man-shaped, its black wings fluttered from its shoulders.

“Hello, little ones,” it called, its mouth shining with fangs.

Moth and Fiona backpedaled. Another creature stepped from the shelves.

“Pretty bird!” it hissed. “Delicious bird!”

Fiona snatched Esme into her arms. “Moth, what are they?”

Moth spun her around. “Run!”

A third beast dropped down in front of them. “Don’t go!” it laughed. “Let us see you!”

A dark robe, a silver chain—Moth noticed little else. The one before him hunched down, stalking toward Fiona. “I will take her hair!” it cackled. “Red hair for me!”

“I will have their coats and boots!” said another.

Fiona tossed Esme into the sky. “Esme, fly!” she shouted. Then, with all her lung-filled might she cried, “Merceron!”

The creatures chittered and laughed and made a ring around them. Moth balled up his fists.

“Get away!”

His bluster delighted the creatures. Moth searched for an opening. Black wings spread out to trap them. Moth drew back, hoping for at least one good shot. The closest creature hovered just out of range.

“Child,” it taunted, “soon you will be one of us.”

Moth held his breath, pushed Fiona behind him, then felt a rush of wind. A sudden howl rattled the crystal windows. Teeth bared, mouth aflame, Merceron came like a battering ram down the hall. Fiona cheered, Moth struck the creature hard in the face—and they ran.

Fire and claws raked the hall. Orange light blinded them. A fireball engulfed the creatures, incinerating two of them. The third leaped into the air. A reptilian arm hooked around it, slamming it to the ground. Merceron pinned it, his smoking snout pressing down upon its chest.

“Stop!” the creature pleaded. “Mighty dragon, mercy! Mercy!”

Flames lit the hall. The burnt remains of the creatures smoldered. Moth and Fiona got to their feet, huddling against the pillar. Merceron’s body shook with rage. The scales along his back glowed red. His massive jaws snapped open.

“No!” screamed the creature.

Moth couldn’t watch. Before he turned away, Merceron hissed, “Where are they?”

The winged creature trembled beneath him. “Gone!” it stammered. “Everyone!”

“Why?” demanded Merceron. “The Skylords?”

“No more Taurnoken. My Masters have said so!”

Merceron snorted fire. “Where have they gone?”

“I don’t know! I swear, Mighty One! We came for the children!” The thing twisted its head, looking straight at Moth. “That one has the Starfinder! We feel it!”

Merceron lifted the creature and dashed it hard against the wall. “The children are mine! Tell your masters!”

The thing spun back to its feet, spread wide its monstrous wings, and darted from the hall.

“Tell them!” Merceron roared after it. “Tell your masters Merceron is back!”

Moth looked breathlessly at Merceron. Until now, he’d never feared the dragon. He held Fiona, afraid to let go. Fiona clutched her chest, staring through the smoke and fire.

“Merceron?”

The dragon’s wrathful eyes scowled. “Redeemers,” he said. “They’ve found us.”

THE NEXT MORNING, MOTH and Fiona awoke with the sun. Merceron stood nearby, guarding them from a platform on the library tower. His drooping expression told Moth he’d been awake the whole night. He nudged Moth with his tail, trying to smile but failing to manage it.

“No time for breakfast,” he said softly. “We need to get moving.”

He turned away, his look distracted as he scanned the sky. So far, things had been quiet. If they were lucky, the Redeemers would leave them alone until nightfall.

“They never fly during the day,” Merceron had explained. “The Skylords won’t allow it.”

That single, curious statement remained with Moth all night. He dreamed about it, his sleep filled with fitful night-mares of being chased and captured, of becoming one of them. Even then—even with his own wings—the Skylords would keep him from flying.

He and Fiona gathered their things and climbed once more onto Merceron’s back. Merceron hadn’t told them where they’d be going, only that he might know where his beloved Dreojen was hiding. In the early days of the war, he explained, he and Dreojen had scouted out aeries in the cliffs where they could hide. Finding her was a terrible long shot, but with the dragons gone and the Redeemers chasing them, it was the only chance they had.

With the children on his back and Lady Esme at his tail, Merceron leaped from the tower with a sickening lurch. The sun felt warm on Moth’s face, but he knew he’d soon be shivering from the wind. He tucked himself down against Merceron’s powerful body, wishing desperately for sleep.

They flew on northward, following the river again, the river that never ended. And then they were falling, gliding down gently to the earth, and Moth didn’t know why. Merceron flared his wings and landed by the river, his claws alighting on the soft, loamy bank.

“Nice!” joked Fiona. “We’re there already?”

Merceron smiled but didn’t laugh. “Unbuckle yourselves,” he said.

They did as he asked, sliding off his back and looking up at him inquisitively. Lady Esme circled overhead, as surprised as they were by the abrupt landing. Merceron’s enormous head sank on his shoulders.

“Moth, Fiona . . .” His voice broke. “I need you to give me the Starfinder now.”

Confused, Moth reached into his coat. “Okay. Why?”

He handed the device off to Merceron, who cradled it in his giant claw.

“What’s going on?” asked Fiona. “What’s wrong?”

“
You’re
going on,” said Merceron. “Without me.” He sneered at the Starfinder. “Without this.”

Moth was incredulous. “What? We can’t go on by ourselves, Merceron. How are we supposed to find the other dragons?”

“You can’t,” said Merceron. “I’m going to find them alone. You’re going to Pandera. The Valley of the Centaurs.”

“By ourselves?” Moth’s head was really spinning now. “How?”

“It’s a two-day walk from here,” said Merceron. “Just follow the river. Pandera is surrounded by mountains. Once you clear these trees you’ll see them. The river flows right underneath the mountain. It’s a tight squeeze, but you can make it.”

“That’s crazy!” said Fiona. “You’re going to just leave us out here? What about those creatures?”

Merceron hefted the Starfinder. “If I don’t take this away they’ll find you for sure,” he said. “It’s the Starfinder they really want. They’ll be coming for it now.”

“Oh, my god,” sighed Fiona. “That’s why you told them your name! That’s why you want the Skylords to know you’re back—so they’ll chase you instead of us.”

“You’ll be safe with the centaurs,” said Merceron. His words fumbled with emotion. “The Skylords won’t bother you there, and the centaurs won’t give you up easily. They’re arrogant, but they’re brave. Remember I told you that?”

“What about you?” asked Moth. He could feel himself starting to panic. “Where will you go?”

“To find Dreojen, if I can. Esme will come with me. This is still about getting her back to normal, Moth. It’s what I owe her.” The dragon lowered himself to look right into Moth’s face. “I’ll be back for you when I can. Stay with the centaurs until then.”

“Merceron, I can’t,” choked Moth. “I can’t be alone anymore. There’s so much I still want to tell you. About Leroux. About
me
!”

“You’ll not be alone, boy! You’ll have Fiona. And I’m not abandoning you. I’ll be back, I swear it.”

Fiona’s face hardened. “Oh, it’s so easy for you. It’s so bloody simple for all of you to just walk away.”

Merceron shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s just the way things have to be.”

“Merceron, no,” pleaded Moth.

“If the Redeemers find you they’ll take you back to the Skylords,” said Merceron. “And the Skylords won’t hesitate because you’re children. They’ll enslave you both. And they’ll get the Starfinder.”

“But they’ll kill you!” Moth cried.

“They will try,” admitted Merceron. “But I’m not easily killed, boy. I am a dragon!” He smiled at Fiona. “And you, girl—you’re the older one. You take care of him, hear me? And if you feel afraid, play that game you taught me. The one where you remember the best things in life.”

“I’ll take care of him,” said Fiona coldly. “I’m not going to leave like everybody else.”

Merceron’s long tail came around them both. Moth could feel it trembling as it hugged them. “Dragons live a very long time,” he said, “so they choose their friends carefully. They never forget them. Or leave them behind.”

Fiona bit her lip, then reached out to touch his face. “Crazy old dragon,” she said.

Moth felt empty. “Follow the river,” he whispered. He just couldn’t say good-bye.

“Follow the river,” echoed the dragon. “And remember—you are my friends.”

IN THEIR LONG COATS AND oversized boots, Moth and Fiona trundled along the riverbank, keeping close to the trees and doing their best to stay out of the open. It felt strange to be alone again, without Esme for company or Merceron to tell them where they were going. At first, they welcomed the chance to walk again. But walking was so much slower than flying, and as the hours wore on even Fiona wished they were back in Merceron’s homemade saddle, gliding toward Pandera.

Moth himself said little as they traveled. He watched the treetops for Redeemers, worried that Merceron was wrong about the creatures only flying at night. So far, they had yet to sight the promised mountains, and they knew they wouldn’t be reaching the centaur valley for at least another day. That meant a night spent by themselves—out in the open, without a dragon to protect them.

Usually it was Moth who kept the conversations going, but this time that duty fell to Fiona. With a game smile she kept her tone jolly, embarrassing Moth with her efforts to cheer him. In fact, Moth didn’t want to be cheered. He was afraid, and he’d never felt so alone since the day his mother died. Being happy now seemed somehow disrespectful.

“. . . and we had a big house,” Fiona said as they plodded along. She had been talking about her life back in Capital City for almost an hour. It was something she rarely did, but now she didn’t seem to know how to stop. “So many rooms. There was always one more light to turn out before going to bed!”

“We just had the apartment,” said Moth. “All we had to do was blow out a candle.”

“Well, you had Leroux at least.”

“You had your parents. Both of them.”

“Oh.”

Moth didn’t want her trying so hard. Mostly, he just wanted quiet. And to reach Pandera in one piece.

“I wonder what they’ll be like,” said Fiona.

“Who?”

“Jorion and his centaurs,” said Fiona. “I wonder if they’ll be like they are in books.”

“I doubt it. I’ve seen plenty of dragons in books, and none of them were like Merceron. Smoking a pipe, tinkering . . .” Moth laughed. “The centaurs here probably all play chess and talk in rhymes.”

“And wear spectacles,” said Fiona.

“And dresses!”

“No,” said Fiona sharply. “Merceron said they were brave fighters. I bet they’re not afraid of the Redeemers.”

“Merceron wasn’t afraid of them, either,” said Moth. “He just wanted to protect us.”

Fiona nodded but didn’t say anything.

When afternoon came they rested, finding a shady spot to share some of the food they had left and fill their canteens from the river. The river tumbled with clear water. Moth had heard of sparkling rivers, but this one actually
did
sparkle, and the fish inside it sparkled too, darting through the rocks, the sun making rainbows on their bellies. The river was wider here than it had been before, the current just a little faster. The farther north they traveled, the bigger and faster it got.

 

Fiona knew she couldn’t tell Moth she was afraid. He was only a year younger then her, but it was an important year and he was a boy. Admit it or not, he needed her. For Fiona, that meant keeping a stupid smile plastered on her face and talking when she didn’t feel like it. She surprised herself by telling Moth about the friends she’d left behind in Capital City, her pet parakeets, the trips she had taken to museums, and the day her mother and father died. She even told him about the day her grandfather came to collect her. She remembered his face, so stormy and grave at the death of his daughter, and so unhappy to have to raise another child when he was already so busy.

Moth listened to every word and barely spoke at all. Fiona could tell he was rapt. He trailed behind her, occasionally nodding when she said something important. Finally, they followed a bend in the river and came out of the forest, emerging into a rolling expanse of fields and meadows filled with wildflowers. The river chugged eastward, slicing toward a distant range of mountains. The sight stopped Fiona short.

One little curve in the river, and the mountains Merceron had promised them appeared, a sheer wall of rock across the horizon. Their staggering height stole Fiona’s breath. Her eyes traced them up, up, to where their peaks disappeared in the clouds.