The Stargazers (6 page)

The admission stunned Aster so much that she remained speechless
as the fire burned hot around her. Miraculously, the magic was not igniting the forest, which was right now as dry as a tinder box.

Lily continued.
“I know I have the l
uxury of hindsight and you do not
. You’re being asked to act entirely on faith, and that’s the hardest thing anyone can do. But if you don’t do it… I’m afraid Oleander might grow even more powerful. I think she would consume this world if she could. I’ve had dreams about her, you see…” Her voice wavered, and with that, the fire disappeared. Lily collapsed to her knees and both Ast
er and Dahlia rushed to her side
.

“I’m so sorry, Nanny Lily,” cried
Aster, her anger extinguished by sympathy
. “Are you okay?”

Lily looked up at Aster with a face even more ancient than the one she knew. Her eyes were wet with tears. “It’s the most horrible burden in the world you’ve been handed, I know. You’re being asked to do what even I couldn’t do.
I believe you were born to right my wrong.
Promise me you will at least meditate on this during your journey. When you come back, we can help you and guide you. But whatever you do, don’t act in haste and fear. There is so much at stake.”

They
helped Lily to
her feet. “I’ll try
.”
She just had to fill the space with words. There was still so much information to process. So many more questions, but never enough time.

Her mother kissed her cheek
. “Just one day at a time, Aster.
We will help you through this.”
Would they plunge the knife through the baby’s chest? That was the real question, of course. Aster felt a lump raise in her through, but she pushed it back. Not now.

The three of them
turned
their full attention toward
the
Tree of Doors. Lily and Dahlia
bent slowly
to their knees and began
a series of
rapid
incantations. At first, nothing happened, b
ut Dahlia and Lily maintained the rapid staccato
, their tongues dancing across syllables that Aster couldn’t
even begin to
translate. Soon, the multi-colored light in the clearing began to pulse with the beat of their words. Aster’s ears filled with a low “
wah-wah-wah
” sound that vibrated every tooth in her head.

A brief vertigo struck her, and she was certain for a moment that the world was bowing and curving around her. The chanting sped up into a blur of sibilants and fricatives, and now came distant shriek that sounded like a tea kettle coming up to boil.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, the world snapped back into place with a loud whip crack that made Aster’s ears ring. A trickle of liquid leaked from her nose, and Aster noticed it was blood. Lily handed her a handkerchief as if that’s what she’d expected to happen.

The Door of All Doors swung open wide to reveal a very similar forest. But the more Aster studied it, the more alien it appeared to her. Clear bottles and crumpled bits of shiny paper lay amid the brush, and Aster wondered if it was garbage or strange decoration. There were worlds on the paper that she didn’t recognize. A terrifying thought occurred to her, and she turned to her mother.

“The tongue of this place. I don’t know it! How will I even speak?”

Dahlia smiled. “That’s the beauty of it. When you cross through the door, you will just know.”

Aster was about to protest. How was that even possible? But a bobbling beam
of light coming up the path distracted her, and Nanny Lily began guiding
Aster forward thr
ough the door. Larkspur darted through
without hesitation.
This was it. This was actually happening.

Her
skin prickled as she crossed the threshold
,
but it stopped as soon as she was through. An u
npleasant heat
and humidity
grabbed and hugged her tight, like someone in a smelly old coat.
She glanced over her shoulder.
The person holding the white light was growing closer, and
Aster
heard the crackle footprints crushing dead leaves and sticks. This world was also
very
dry, it seemed.

“Mother, I—”

“That’s Miss Ivy. Be nice to her and she’ll be nice to you.” Her mother’s voice sounded muffled and distant from this side, and her brain hurt at the illusion it created.

A sudden panic clamped down on her.
She wasn’t in her world anymore. Inside her roared a storm of tears and terror.
She had to get home. Now.
Forget about her vacation from Oleander. She would work a thousand years for her terrible aunt if it meant being back in her own world.
“I
’m not ready. I can’t do
this
yet
. I need more time to prepare. It isn’t time yet!”

Dahlia’s face was impassive, but Aster could see a slight quiver around her mouth. “I will see you soon, Aster. God and Goddess be with you.”

“But I can’t do this! There has to be another way! I can find it if you let me. If I’m so special, you’d let me!” Tears spilled down As
ter’s cheeks and she tried to step
back through the open door, only to find her way blocked by an invisible barrier that stretched forward with her momentum and then pushed her back
with force
. Sh
e stumbled backward but managed to remain upright.
Aster’s fury burned brighter.

“
Let me back through!
I might not even be this Great Mother pers
on. Don’t you get that? This could all just be fantasy and lies!
Please… Mo
ther, please let me come home
!”

Dahlia’s resolve finally
broke and tears
spilled down her weathered face, bu
t still she did not move. It was clear that, like Aster, she was inexorably stuck to her own fate
.

Nanny Lily stepped
back, tugging Dahlia along with her, and raised a hand. After
a sharp nudge
to the side
, Dahlia raised hers too
and they mouthed another incantation
. The
door slammed
shut, and the ground trembled with the force of the portal between the two worlds closing. She grabbed onto the trunk so she wouldn’
t topple over. W
hen the tremor subsided she noticed no evidence of the magical door that had only just been there.
Over here, the Tree of Doors
was just a plain, boring old ash.
Nothing to give evidence to the strange wonder that had brought her here.

No magic in this world.

Aster fell to the ground, sobbing.

-5-

Aster’s sobs tapered off a minute later and s
he wiped tears from her face. The white beam of light
was now only about ten paces
away. It
was unlike any lantern she’d ever seen, and if it was mag
ic the woman wielded, her control must have been astounding.

The humid balminess of the night clung to her s
kin like a moist blanket. It felt like late summer, though for all she knew, it could have been winter in this world.
The air
was breathable, and the smells of the forest were strong around her, but there was a
shar
p under smell
, as if something ha
d been burning for a very long time.
Larkspur circled around her legs, purring and rubbing his head against her shins. She reached down to pet him and swatted big, hungry mosquitoes away with her other hand.

The woman came to a stop a few feet away
, and Aster got a good look at her
. She
had skin the color of deep chocolate, and
wore a wide-brimmed hat
that hid most of her face in shadow, but Aster could see the white of her smile in the darkness and relaxed. She was wearing
a
long dress with big blue hydrang
eas all over it, which
seemed more appropriate for an afternoon
tea
in a flower garden than a late evening stroll through
the woods. She shined her
light in Aster’s face. “Pink hair, pu
rple eyes. Yep, you be the one.”

Aster stood up and half-heartedly brushed at her skirts. “Miss Ivy?”

“
The one and only, darlin’.
”
Her accent was
similar to Aster’s, but she spoke in this land’s language. Aster was relieved to find that her mother had been right. She could comprehend it. At least on a basic level.

“Um, h
ello
. I, uh, just came through
.”

“Yeah.
I heard you comin’ before I even got out t
he car.”

Aster dropped her gaze.
“I suppo
se I had a… moment.”

Her smile turned sympathetic.
“They all do, sweetie. They all do. Don’t you feel bad about that.
How is my dear Dahlia these days?”

“She is well. But tired.”

“I guess she would be
. She’s pro
bably worried sick about you
. But she also knows I take good care of my girls here. You’re in good hands.”

Aster
pointed to the light. “Is that
Old Magic?”

Miss Ivy burst
out
into a rich belly laugh
that seemed to make the whole forest light up. “
Honey, the only Old Magic you’ll see powering one of
these babies is called a Duracell
battery.” She took one of Aster’s bags and started walking back down the trail, still chuckling a little. “I’m parked on a road just down this hill. Watch out for some of the blackberry brambles along the trail. They’re fulla thorns.”

“Will we be riding horses to town?”

Miss Ivy laughed again. It wasn’t mean-spirited. She seemed truly delighted by Aster’s naivety. “
I suppose you could say that. There’s horses. About two-hundred of ‘em.
”

Aster’s mind whirled at the thought of so many animals. Why in the world would they require so many just to transport the two of them. She broke into a trot
to keep up and hoped she wouldn’t turn an ankle on a rock or something along the bumpy path.

A few minutes later, they reached the bottom of the path, which met up with a packed dirt passa
ge just wide enough to be considered a road
. Aster could make out a red boxy shape with two bigger beams of light spilling from one e
nd. She wondered how many Dural-Sell
batteries it took to power those. The vehicle sat up on large wheels, making it look like a very strange marriage between wagon and carriage. “
Where are the horses
?”

Ivy pulled open a back door and tossed in Aster’s bags. Larkspur hopped in after them and curled up on the seat, as if all this were just as familiar to him as Ellemire. “
They’re all under the hood, darlin’. Don’t take it literally, though. Just one of those things you’ll learn the longer you’re over here. This here is called a Sport Utility Vehicle.
I call it Roger for short. He’s my one true love who always treats me right and does exactly as I say. You’ll discover how rare that is in both man and car someday.”

She opened another door and gestured inside. “You sit here. I’ll help you with the seatbelt in a sec. Oh, and by the way, this road gets a little bumpy, so try not to puke on my new floormats if you can help it. I brought along some candied ginger just in case.”

The inside of Roger smelled like cloves. When Ivy got in and lit a dark brown cigarette, Aster figured out why. Papa Quercus smoked something very similar in a pipe
,
and the scent made her feel a little homesick. After watching Ivy’s demonstrations with the seatbelt, she got herself buckled in and they were off with a roar. Aster’s hands flailed around for any place she could grab on and hold tight. “This feels dangerous!” she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut. Her stomach jounced in perfect time with the vehicle and she was thankful she hadn’t eaten
before coming here
.  

Ivy cackled. “Dangerous? Honey, everything worth enjoying even a little bit in life is dangerous. Puttin’ your life at risk and reclaiming it over and over again is the pure definition of fun. You’ll be enjoyin’ yourself in no time. Just grab that Jesus Handle over your head and you’ll be all right.”

“Jesus handle?”

“Yeah, most folks grab it when they’re scared and scream, ‘Jesus!’ Funny little joke over in these parts.”

Aster didn’t quite get it, but she grabbed the handle anyway as t
h
e seatbelt dug into her neck
.
Her blood was zoomi
ng through her veins, and panic was close on its tail
.
“I don’t like
this
!”