Starfinder: A Novel of the Skylords (20 page)

“It looks like a castle,” she whispered.

Moth came to a halt beside her. “I don’t even think Merceron could get over those mountains. No wonder the Skylords leave the centaurs alone.”

For the first time in days, a sense of hope touched Fiona. They’d be safe beyond the mountains, she was sure of it. Safe with the centaurs. Safe inside their impregnable castle.

“Merceron said there’d be a way through,” she remembered. “He said the river runs under the mountains.”

“There’s probably secret trails all over the mountains,” said Moth. “Probably paths only the centaurs know about.” He looked up into the sky. “We’re out in the open here. It’ll be getting dark soon.”

Fiona started right out toward the mountains “If we move fast we can make it by tomorrow night,” she said. She was buoyant suddenly, her smile genuine. “It’s our castle, Moth,” she said. “You told me there wasn’t one, but there it is!”

“Huh?”

“Back in Calio at my grandfather’s house. When we were sitting on the wall.”

“Fiona, I don’t remember. That was the night Leroux died.”

Fiona glanced back at him. “Sorry,” she said. “Let’s just hurry, all right?”

She took his hand and pulled him forward, urging him faster along the riverbank. It didn’t matter if he remembered or not. He’d told her that there were no faraway castles for her, no place for her to run.

He was wrong.

 

When night finally arrived, they found a place beneath some fruit trees to hide. Using leaves and branches for blankets, they buried themselves from the eyes of the Redeemers, leaving just enough of the sky visible to see what might be stalking them. The long walk had exhausted Moth. Although the mountains did seem closer now, he knew there were still miles to go tomorrow. He said good night to Fiona and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him away.

But soon he dreamed. Of Merceron, mostly, but also of Leroux and the Redeemers. In his dream Moth asked Leroux why he’d never mentioned the Redeemers or the terribleness of the Skylords. Leroux smiled in his dream and said, “Because I was in love.”

The answer bothered Moth enough to wake him. When his eyes opened he noticed Fiona next to him, staring up at the sky through the hole in the trees.

“What are you looking at?” he asked groggily.

“Nothing,” said Fiona. “Go back to sleep.”

So Moth did.

 

Fiona searched the sky for Jorian. She could only see a little patch of stars through the trees, but they were directly above her, the same place she had seen the centaur chieftain before. She imagined him in his valley beyond the mountains, defying the Skylords, ready to protect her, and she wondered why Merceron and the dragons could ever dislike such brave creatures. If centaurs were like horses, then they were noble. Fiona knew horses. She had ridden them when her parents were alive.

She caught a glimpse of a single bright star burning hot above her.

“Jorian’s eye,” she whispered.

The star twinkled as it watched her.

THROUGH THE MILES AND the dark of night, Alisaundra could taste the children’s dreams. Moth, Fiona. Asleep in a field of wildflowers, they served up a feast for her. Alisaundra leaned forward in her chains as if smelling a confection.

Night was when her senses came alive. Her hawklike eyes—a gift from her Masters—easily scanned the dark landscape below. Nearby, the man called Donnar watched the same black horizon with a squint. The noise of the airship hummed in Alisaundra’s bones. She smelled the powder of the rifle at her back. She clutched the strip of the girl’s dress, picturing Fiona’s orange hair, her pale and freckled face.

A single chain tethered Alisaundra to the platform. Looped around her waist, it was just long enough for her to gaze through the airship’s window. For two days now she had tracked the children, directing the craft along the river. Her captor, Rendor, watched her keenly most of the time, and there was always a rifle nearby to kill her if she broke her promise. Tonight, though, Rendor was gone. Only Donnar strode the platform. Only one guard threatened her.

Hunting the children had been easy. Alisaundra was sure she would find them tomorrow. She had already told Rendor where they were—all they needed to do now was follow the river.

Still, Alisaundra had her secrets.

Her eyes moved across the chamber, scanning the instruments and dials, marveling at the things the humans had built. Did her Masters know about the airships? She didn’t think so. They’d never have let the humans go so far.

Alisaundra had always thought her human memories gone for good, but somehow, being around her kind again had coaxed them back to life. When she was alive, humans crawled on the earth like beetles. Now they could fly! The miracle of what they’d done still startled her.

And then there were the dreams.

Her dreams weren’t like the delicious dreams of children. They were echoes in her mind, voices she hadn’t heard in eons. Familiar voices she couldn’t quite remember. A father’s voice. A sister’s. A husband’s?

Alisaundra wanted desperately to be away. Once she was gone from the airship, her bad dreams would stop. First though, she had a bargain to fulfill. She would find the children for Rendor—even though they no longer had the Starfinder.

BY THE END OF THEIR SECOND DAY of walking, Moth and Fiona had nearly reached the mountains. The meadows and green hills had given way to a rocky, uneven terrain, making following the river difficult. Their blistered feet ached in their boots and the wind had chafed their skin, turning their cheeks and foreheads crimson. Towering pine trees lined the river, showering needles into the rushing water. To the east, the sun was already heading down.

Before them loomed the enormous mountains, the ramparts of Fiona’s imaginary castle. Moth’s eyes crept skyward as he walked, trying to see the peaks in the darkening sky and gray, growing mists. Throughout the day a storm had dogged them, threatening a downpour. So far, the rains had held off, but the wind was picking up again and Moth knew their luck was waning.

“If we don’t find shelter soon we’ll be drowned,” he called to Fiona. “Might as well just sleep in the river!”

Fiona waved at him to keep up. “We’ll make it,” she promised—the same promise she’d been making all day. She walked quickly along the stones, sometimes balancing herself with outstretched arms.

“Slow down,” Moth cautioned again.

“Can’t,” said Fiona.

“You’re gonna fall!”

“Moth, we need to hurry.
You
need to hurry.”

Moth considered the distance ahead. It was hard to tell just how far away the mountains still were. He looked up just as a raindrop plopped onto his nose.

“Uh-oh.”

Fiona turned around. “What?”

Moth put out a hand to feel for rain. The gesture made Fiona groan.

“We should look for a place to stop,” said Moth. “Some trees, at least.”

“It’ll be dark soon,” said Fiona. “Those things will be looking for us. It’s not that much farther . . .”

“Fiona, we can’t make it, not when it’s dark. We can’t even see where we’re going! We could break a leg if it starts raining!”

Fiona pointed toward the mountains. “They’re right
there
!” she said. “Maybe a mile away. Just a few more minutes . . .”

“How can you tell that? You’ve been saying that for an hour.”

A thunderclap went off over their heads. Moth glanced around for shelter.

“There,” he said, spotting a clutch of nearby pine trees. “We can wait till the storm passes.”

“It’ll be too dark,” said Fiona. “It’s just rain, Moth.”

She was getting desperate. Moth was getting annoyed. “We can wait,” he insisted.

Fiona shook her head. “I’m going on,” she said, and started off again along the river.

Moth hurried after her. “Okay, so you’re testing me, is that it? You want to see if I’ll follow you? You told Merceron you wouldn’t leave me, Fiona!”

She whirled on him. “Moth, are you crazy? Merceron’s the one who left us! And you know what? He’s not coming back. He just said that so we’d leave him alone.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is!” Fiona railed. “Only you’re so trusting you can’t even see it! Nobody ever comes back, Moth. They just leave.”

A patter of rain struck her face. Fiona wiped it away.

“They just leave, Moth,” she said.

Moth jammed his hands into his pockets. He wanted to touch her, but all he could manage was a smile. “Hey, listen,” he said. “I never thanked you for coming here with me.”

Fiona had to swallow to keep from crying. “Yeah.”

“And I never said I was sorry for talking about how pretty that mermaid was.”

“Okay, yeah,” Fiona nodded. She took a shaky breath. “I gotta go now, though. I gotta get there.”

The rain came harder. Moth pulled up his collar. “Come on.”

This time he took the lead, trudging carefully along the riverbank with Fiona right behind him. He could get soaked for her, he decided. She needed him. They’d find the path together. They’d find the centaurs, too. And then Merceron would come back for them. Moth was sure of it.

“What’s that sound?” said Fiona suddenly.

Moth’s heart jumped. “What?”

Fiona cocked her head. “That. You hear that?”

Moth heard the wind—and something else. It was such a familiar sound, so much a part of his memory that at first he didn’t notice it. A hum and clang. A sound he’d always loved.

“Redeemers?”

Moth pointed across the sky. “There!”

It appeared like a ghost, the last bit of sunlight playing on its wings.

“A dragonfly . . .”

The craft buzzed out of the clouds. Behind it, blocking out the rising moon, floated a massive, black airship. Moth knew instantly it was the
Avatar
.

“That’s my grandfather,” cried Fiona. “He found us!”

They stood together, frozen by shock, watching the dragonfly bear down on them.

“This isn’t possible,” Moth sputtered. “They couldn’t have. How?”

Fiona regained her senses. “We’ve gotta run,” she clamored, pulling Moth along. “Run, now!”

“Fiona, wait!”

“Run, Moth!” cried Fiona. “I’m not going back with him!”

She was gone before he could answer, her booted feet slipping and sliding across the slimy rocks. Moth bolted after her. Behind them the dragonfly was gaining fast.

“Get away from the river!” he shouted. “Hide in the trees!”

“No! Don’t lose the way! We’re almost—”

Her voice disappeared. In a flash she was falling, tumbling headlong down the riverbank.

“Fiona!”

Moth slid down the bank to reach her. The current snatched her, dragging her fast. She screamed, gurgling his name, her red hair whipped by the swirling water.

“Fiona!”

He caught a glimpse of her thrashing arm. The wind swallowed her screams.

Moth ran. He fell, got up again, and stumbled over the rocks. The dragonfly closed in on him, the racket of its wings drowning his cries. He was trapped now but didn’t care.

“Help!” he cried. He waved his arms to signal the pilot. The dragonfly roared overhead, then jerked back around again. “Stop!”

Rain pelted Moth’s face as he stared skyward. The dragonfly descended loudly, beating the storm into a froth. There wasn’t time to explain anything. All Moth wanted was to find Fiona. The craft came down hard, nearly crashing. Moth didn’t recognize the pilot until the canopy popped open.

“Moth!”

Skyhigh vaulted from the cockpit.

“Skyhigh . . .”

Out of breath, too horrified to speak, Moth nearly collapsed. Skyhigh dashed over to him, grabbing his shoulders.

“Where’s Fiona?” he demanded. Moth pointed toward the river. Skyhigh’s eyes went wide when he realized what had happened. He shook Moth in a rage. “Why the hell did you run? I was coming to
help
!”

Moth couldn’t answer. All the emotions he’d pent up for days burst like a dam. “She’s gone!” he sobbed. Hot tears streaked his ruddy face. “Skyhigh . . . Fiona’s gone!”

MOTH STARED BLANKLY through the dragonfly’s canopy, watching the rain smash against the glass as Skyhigh piloted the vessel through the storm. The dragonfly pitched in the winds, straining to stay aloft. Ahead of them glowed the spotlight of the
Avatar
, the only visible cue they could see through the clouds. Below them the world had vanished, and Fiona with it.

They’d searched for her as long as possible, flying low over the rocks until the rain and darkness overwhelmed them. Finally, with the
Avatar
circling impatiently overhead, Skyhigh called off their search.

“Skyhigh?”

Skyhigh kept his eyes on the
Avatar
’s beacon. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry we ran,” said Moth. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Skyhigh worked the controls as though ignoring him. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I know. It’s not your fault, Moth.”

It was the kind of thing adults tell little children after they’d spilled some milk or broken a window.

“Fiona crossed the Reach because of me,” said Moth. “It is my fault. None of this would have happened if—”

“Stop,” said Skyhigh. “I know what you’re thinking, but maybe she’s okay. If she’s a good swimmer she might still be alive. In the morning we’ll look for her again.”

Moth tried to remember if Fiona had ever mentioned swimming in Capital City. Her pastimes were horses mostly. And museums.

“Skyhigh?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you gonna tell Rendor?”

“I’m not sure. The truth, I guess. Fiona saw us coming, so she ran.”

“She ran because she didn’t want to go back to him.”

“Was that a good decision or a stupid one?”