the stargazer
My sister told our father one night she wanted to know the name of every star in the sky. A sensible parent would have told her that there are too many to count, that some of them don't even have names. Our father encouraged her, the damned fool. Don't get me wrong: I loved my father. I love my sister, too, but they are both fools.
Father spared no expense in educating us. The finest tutors money could buy traveled across the world to our little estate, and in their chosen fields they taught us well. But they also carried with them stories of their distant homelands, and spoke in strange accents and dialects, and awoke in both of us a powerful wanderlust. For me, I dreamed of the open ocean, of sailing in one of my father's merchant ships and seeing all of these distant lands for myself, of talking to foreigners in their own tongues. For my sister, it made her wonder what the stars were like in their homes. She asked if they had different names for the stars where they came from. She made them show her what the sky looked like where they were from. And in the end, when her tutors were unable to satisfy her curiosity, she sought her answers elsewhere.
She awoke me in my chambers late one night, dressed in traveling clothes, a satchel at her back. "I'm going to steal the names of the stars," she told me. "Will you come with me?"
I said yes. To this day I wonder if she regrets it as much as I do.
I think we'd each seen about fifteen years, give or take. Despite the many freedoms our father granted us, I chafed under his restrictions, certain they were arbitrary and unfair. I could wield a sword as well as any of our house guardsmen. I knew the surrounding area better than some old men who had lived here their entire lives. And my sister--well, she'd always made a game of avoiding authority. In any case, she was the one who was always getting into trouble, and it was always up to me to get her out again.
"How are you going to steal the names of the stars?" I asked as I crawled out of bed. Without my asking she turned her back and sat in the window to wait for me to change. I put on my favorite set of traveling clothes, then hesitated as I considered whether to bring my sword. "Bring your sword," she said, without looking. "Master Demetrios says the roads aren't as safe as they used to be."
"Master Demetrios doesn't know what he's talking about," I said, but I wore the sword anyway. "He sailed thousands of miles to get here. What does he know about how safe our roads used to be?"
"Master Demetrios knows everything. He has a thousand thousand books in his library, and he's read every one of them." Her voice went a little dark. "He knows the names of all the stars in all the languages on the earth and he won't tell me."
I hesitated. She was very fond of Master Demetrios, and telling her that I suspected that less than half of his stories were true had never ended well in the past. Our father hired him because he was a man of many talents. He spoke a dozen languages, had personally invented a number of devices helpful to navigators and astronomers alike, and numbered among the foremost historians of our age. It was true that he was brilliant--I would never have admitted to it, but I quite liked him as well--but he was also a gifted liar and storyteller. It made him appear ten times as clever as he was. "Perhaps he's worried you'll put him out of a job," I said.
"He can keep it. I'd make an appalling teacher." She padded over and sat on the windowsill. In the moonlight she looked like a fey creature, all pale skin and blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "You'll want to pack a change of clothes. We'll be on the road for a while."
I stopped halfway through doing just that, and turned to look at her. She was playing with her hair, twisting her long dark locks in her fingers, which usually meant she was excited about something. "Just what do you have planned?"
She leapt to her feet and began to pace, grinning a pixie grin. "Father and Master Demetrios stayed up late drinking wine and talking." She stopped mid-stride and frowned. "Well, it was more arguing than talking. But it was friendly arguing." She continued pacing, the smile returning abruptly. "Talking about which port was the best place to, to . . ." She trailed off, trying to find a word.
"Dock?" I suggested.
"They were talking about which port had their favorite ladies," she said. "They thought I was reading in the next room." She sounded quite proud of her little deception.
"Can you skip to the part where this is relevant?"
She glared at me, but sat down and pulled a series of books and scrolls from her satchel. "I found these. I don't think Master Demetrios came here just to tutor a couple of kids."
I looked over the books, and found myself no more enlightened than I had been a few moments earlier. "What am I looking at?" She started to explain, but I wasn't really listening. When she talked she told stories, and stories are never entirely true. Instead I let the rhythm of her voice clear my mind and meditated on the truth of what was in front of me.
At least two of the books were either written in a cypher or a language I'd never seen before. The rest seemed to be gathered from throughout the world, and none of them were on the same topic. But each one had a map or a star chart in it, and each of those--"All of these are pointing here, aren't they?" I interrupted her.
"I was getting to that." She frowned at me, clearly annoyed at the interruption. "But yes. A few days north, on one of the northern islands."
"A few days?"
"It's fine. Father won't miss us." She was using her 'I have created an elaborate lie' voice. She had a talent for spinning lies that seemed more plausible than reality. No doubt she'd bribed some servants, forged some letters, and made it sound as if we had simply left early to visit some of our cousins for a few days--and made it seem as if this was all planned out weeks in advance.
"Supposing something goes wrong?"
"There is no reward without risk," she said. "Come on. Aren't you curious?"
I was, of course, but I wasn't about to admit that. I was curious about the books, about Master Demetrios, about all manner of things. But I had also long ago decided that I would be the voice of caution among the two of us. She certainly wasn't about to be. "I just don't think this is a good idea," I said, carefully.
"Oh, come on. I know you've always wanted to one-up Master Demetrios. Now's your chance."
She knew me well. I sighed. "All right. But I'm only going to keep you out of trouble."
"Of course you are." She quickly packed up the books again. "Just follow me. I've arranged everything."
For a while, at least, that was true. She'd planned out an escape route where there were no guards to so much as question us. Two horses were conveniently ready for us in the stables, and someone had forgotten to close the northern gate. After a few miles of silent riding on the road, I asked, "So, I hope you aren't planning to swim to the islands."
"I've arranged for a ship."
Several more miles of silence followed. It was a comfortable sort of silence, and it was only when the rhythm of the road set my mind to wandering that I felt compelled to break it. "You said you didn't think Master Demetrios was just a tutor."
"I did."
"Did you mean something in particular?"
"I did."
"And not just that he's also a scholar of many fields."
"No." When she fell silent again, I didn't press. She was trying to get her thoughts in order. "Obviously I didn't have time to make sure," she said a few minutes later, her tone careful. "But I think he's here in a non-scholarly capacity. What I saw made it look there was some ritual going on."
I thought about it. "I can see him as a wizard." Silence fell once more. "Are you hoping he'll teach you? Is that what this is about?"
"I want to know. That's all I've ever wanted." Her voice cracked a little with emotion, and the silence that followed was embarrassed. "I told you I was going to steal the name of the stars," she said eventually. "You know I'd never lie to you." She was riding ahead of me, but I could still hear her smirk. "Or exaggerate, or stretch the truth to make something sound more dramatic."
We rode on for another hour or two before we came across a town, and my sister announced we would stay at the inn for the night. I was surprised she was willing to rest so close to Father's estate, but I didn't bring it up. She has this way of moving with such unflappable confidence that it's difficult for most people to even imagine that things might not go according to plan. Even back then I knew better than to question it.
The innkeeper led us to our room, which looked like it had been prepared for us: two small beds with a cold tray of dinner sitting on each. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I sat down and started eating regardless. My sister dutifully set hers on the nightstand and watched me curiously. "You're worried we'll be followed, aren't you?"
"I'm not worried," I said. "But the thought has crossed my mind."
"It's good that you worry. That's why I keep you around."
"You keep me around because I am your moral and intellectual superior," I said.
"That is certainly a part of it." She shrugged and lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "But you shouldn't worry. Father won't worry about us until we're safely on our way. He shouldn't even notice we're gone until midday."
It was no use asking if she'd done something to make sure of that. She would just evade the question. So instead, once I'd finished eating, I just tried to sleep. As near as I could tell, my sister slept easily. I was not so lucky. I'm tempted to say it was some premonition of disaster that made my sleep a fitful one, but that would be a lie. In truth, I think it was simply that the bed was uncomfortable, the inn creaky, and I knew that when our father found out, he would be unimaginably furious. Still, uncomfortable and worried as I was, eventually sleep did find me.
My sister was humming to herself and putting up her hair when I awoke. It wasn't quite dawn. She smiled brightly when she noticed my eyes were open. "Good morning!"
"I thought you weren't worried about Father catching us up this morning," I said.
"I'm not. I would, however, like to put as much road behind us as possible." She shrugged. "Anyway, once you're feeling human, would you like to go down to the common room and fetch some breakfast? It's probably best if we eat up here."
"Couldn't you get it yourself?"
"I could. I elected not to."
I shrugged. Once I'd put my boots on, I headed down to the common room. Or rather, I almost made it there--I stopped short when I saw, talking to the innkeeper, Master Demetrios.
Even at a brief glance, he looked different from what I was used to. In my mind he was the sort of large, round, rosy-cheeked fellow people would describe as "jolly," with a melodic voice perfect for telling stories. The cheerful demeanor was gone, now, and his voice had a dangerous edge to it. "They are likely traveling together," he was telling the innkeeper. "Brother and sister. Twins. Dark hair, blue eyes, fair. They've stolen something of mine."
"I've not seen anyone like that, milord," said the innkeeper. Apparently my sister had managed to secure his loyalty somehow--or perhaps he simply knew that some of his customers valued their privacy.
"It will go badly for you if you've lied to me," Demetrios said. "But perhaps I haven't described them adequately. The boy is lean, athletic. Probably carries a sword. Stares too much, because he thinks of himself as observant. I think he might be incapable of enjoying himself. The girl is skinny, wears her hair loose. A generous observer would say she's got a mischievous grin. I prefer to think of it as smug."
"Can't say as that rings a bell, milord. Do they have names? Might help me find them for you if they show up."
This part is rather awkward to tell--of course he knew our names. He spoke them aloud to the innkeeper as if it wasn't a big deal, because at the time, it wasn't. The trouble is simply that we have long since lost those names, and I can no longer recall what they were. Even the shape of them eludes my memory. My sister usually calls herself Azura, or Astra. She calls me Indigo or Sterling, and probably thinks she's being very clever when she does.
"I'll tell you what," said the innkeeper. "I'll keep a special eye out for these thieves. I can even offer you a room at a discount rate if you--"
"Waiting will do me no good." A long pause followed. "I will remember your face, innkeeper." Then I heard heavy footsteps fading away.
I waited for a few moments then checked the common room again. Just the innkeeper now. I made my way towards him confidently. He started when he saw me, then offered a low chuckle. "You've got impressive timing, lad. I just scared someone off your tail."
"Oh?"
"Scary fellow. Said he was a thief-taker, but I never saw a thief-taker like that. You might want a disguise on the road from now on."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't turn us in."
He scowled and shook his head. "Even if I thought he was who he said he was, which I don't, and if I thought you were thieves, which I don't, and even if I made it a habit of betraying people who are sleeping under my roof, which I don't, that fellow had murder in his eyes."
"Well, thank you." I hesitated. "I actually just came down here for some breakfast."
"Right you are." He ducked into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with two steaming trays full of potato and eggs and bacon. "Anything else?"
"That will do for now," I said. "Thanks again."
I returned to our room, and Azura brightened as I handed her a tray. "You've been gone a while. I was about to send out a search party."
I sat down on the bed. "You don't have a search party," I said, then hesitated. "So, you were almost right."
"Only almost?"
"Father didn't catch on that we were missing. Master Demetrios did."
She tilted her head quizzically, then nodded. "Of course, the books. I should have known." She paused. "Did he see you?"
"He didn't."
"Then why do you look so shaken?" She stared at me for a long moment. "You look like you've just been told your whole family are actually ghosts."
"Master Demetrios threatened the innkeeper if he didn't give us up. I think he meant it, too."
"I do hate being right." She sighed dramatically. "You should avoid it, if you can."
"It's too late for me, I'm afraid. Being right is all I've ever known."
"Alas." She adopted a thoughtful expression as she ate her breakfast. "Fortunately for both of us, I also planned for followers."
The original plan, she explained, was to follow the Queen's Road north from here. After a day or so of traveling, the Queen's Road would follow the coastline, and we could take a ship from any point there. The revised plan, Azura explained, was to simply follow the Queen's Road south, where it would still eventually meet up with the coast. "There's less flexibility, and it's going to add at least a few days to our trip, but nobody has any reason to think we're heading south."
"Supposing he assumes we know he's following us and deduces that going south would be the best plan?"
"I've arranged for some witnesses to say they've seen us heading north if they don't actually see us heading north," she said, her tone suggesting that this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Really, what do you take me for?"
I frowned. I had been under the impression this was a last-minute adventure, but it sounded like she'd been making preparations at least several days in advance. Probably more. It was always a safe assumption that she wasn't telling me everything, but somehow I always managed to underestimate exactly how much she wasn't telling me.
She caught my expression, and smiled apologetically. "I didn't want you to have a last-minute change of heart," she said, as if it explained everything.
We saddled up and began a long day of traveling. At first she tried to make conversation, but I was doing my best to maintain a sullen silence, so she mostly gave up after an hour or two. She managed to keep the silence until lunch. After she'd finished eating, she fidgeted restlessly, trying not to stare at me. Eventually she said, "I'm sorry."
I said nothing. I'd managed to burn off most of the sullen resentment on the road, but pride kept me from admitting that. Besides, at this point she'd do anything just to get me to talk again, and I was interested to see what she'd do.
"I should have told you about this from the start. I wanted to, actually. But I was afraid."
I gave her a skeptical look.
"I'm always dragging you into trouble. I wanted to keep you out of it for once. And I've been spying on Master Demetrios for a while. He's trouble of the worst sort." She paused. "So I'm sorry. You know I'd trust you with anything."
I smirked. "You should know better than to exclude me from your plans. Without me you wouldn't have anyone to salvage them when everything went horribly wrong."
A more comfortable silence settled over us as we continued riding. That night we talked about Master Demetrios. She was fairly certain he was a student of the occult, and she was also fairly certain that all of his secret books were pointing towards a specific time as well as a specific place--probably about a week's span when the stars would be right.
"Right for what?" I asked.
"No idea. I probably could have found out but I think he figured out that I was reading his secret books. Once I figured out that the timing was important I got too eager and he stopped teaching me anything useful."
"I'm just glad you didn't ask him."
"I'm not quite that foolish," she said, grinning. "But I did think about it."
And of course she seemed not the least bit worried that her mentor was a dangerous occultist, nor that she was prying into forbidden lore with this trip. It was just another secret for her to unlock. Fool that I was, I didn't even think to question it. Perhaps if I did, I could have made her see sense.
We traveled along the Queen's Road for several days. A thin mist had started forming in the mornings. The first two days it burned off by the afternoon, but after that it hung around all day, filling the air with a damp chill. So we burned large fires in the evenings, and when we could find an inn, my sister paid extravagantly for room and board, and all the while her spirits seemed to darken. I was quite certain we would be unable to hire a ship when we finally reached the coast. Sure enough, she spent the last of the silver in her purse once we arrived in Estwick, the port city from which she had hoped to hire a ship. I was about to chide her for her carelessness when she produced from some hidden pocket in her dress another roll of shiny silver coins, more than enough to get us where we needed.
We were staying in an inn called the Fool's Lantern, located right on the docks. The mist had developed into a thick fog, and my sister barely even bothered to exchange pleasantries with the innkeeper before storming upstairs. I lingered a while in the common room, enjoying the salt tang of the air and the crackling of the fire. She was worried that the delay would mean a missed opportunity, but for me it felt like something out of a story. This was wizard hunting weather.
A wiry man of about thirty or forty years sat down next to me. He had a weathered, unkempt look about him, and a way of not looking at me that made me assume he wanted to talk to me. I was about to greet him when he said, casually, "I heard a story you might find interesting."
"I'm not much for stories," I said. I couldn't shake the feeling he'd read my thoughts somehow.
"No?" He chuckled. "I think you'll like this one. I'll buy you a drink if you listen to it."
I wanted him to go away, but I shrugged and said "If you like." I figured it was better to humor him than risk making a scene.
He wove a story of two of the land's most dangerous criminals--thieves, con artists, pirates, people for whom no crime was too low. A minute or so in, I realized that the characters in this story were meant to be Azura and I. By the end of the story, we'd sabotaged a ship that refused to offer us passage, murdered some honest sailors so we could take their places on a crew, and so on.
The wiry man next to me was giving me a sardonic grin. "So, what'd you think?"
"It's a bit grim."
"Aye, that's what I thought. The things these folk are supposed to up to, you'd think I'd have heard about it before tonight." He settled back in his chair. "But not everyone's as savvy about stories as me, and there's lots of folk who just might think you and your sister look a touch familiar and get some violent ideas. If the story spreads."
I said nothing, and stared at the fire.
"Now, I figure, from the shape of this story, someone wants to keep you from hiring a ship. And it just so happens I have a ship for hire."
"You'll have to talk to my sister," I said. "But I can show you to our room."
"There's a clever lad."
We found Azura seated on her bed, wrapped in a blanket and staring out the window with a scowl on her face. She brightened almost immediately when she saw I'd brought a guest. "You made a friend!"
"The name's Laurys. Captain Laurys if you're feeling polite." He sat down on the other bed and looked at her intently. "You and your brother have got yourself in a world of trouble. I'm offering a way out."
She paused to look him over for a few moments, then smiled. "Are you always this dramatic?"
"Only when I need to be," he said with a grin. "But you're in trouble and I've got a ship and a loyal crew. The way I see it, the only option is go with me, or go back where you came from. And you might not have any luck with the latter."
"I suppose you're going to fleece me on the price, then."
"Well, that depends where you're going."
"The northern islands. I have charts. Can you sail in this fog?"
"I can sail in anything."
"Can you take me directly to my destination?"
"Well, I've got cargo--"
At first I thought Azura had silenced him merely by holding up a hand. Then I noticed the glint of gold in her palm. "Eight crowns. Half now, half on our safe return to a port of my choosing. We leave tonight, we sail directly to our destination, and you will wait there until we are ready to return."
He tried to conceal it, but his eyes went wide when Azura offered eight crowns. That sort of money could probably keep his ship operating for at least two months. "How long?"
"How long are you willing to wait for four crowns?" My sister shrugged. "I don't anticipate more than a week, however."
I watched Laurys intently as he thought the offer through. This was quite a lot of money, but the terms had the potential to make it into quite a bad deal--especially if he was losing money on his other cargo. He performed some calculations on his fingers before he finally sighed and nodded. "I hope you don't mind bunking with the crew."
"I don't."
"Then how soon can you leave?"
"I haven't unpacked," she said, then looked at me with a question in her eyes.
"Ready whenever you are," I said.
Laurys simply chuckled. "Feeling eager, eh? All right then. The False Dawn awaits."
Since we had already paid through the night, he suggested that we slip out the window. I didn't think it necessary, but I also had no interest in arguing--he seemed to think it was important, and that was enough for me. Once we were safely away, he gave me a nod of approval--perhaps he was testing us?
The False Dawn was smaller than I'd expected, but I was used to sailing on my father's merchantmen--large ships designed for long hauls. The False Dawn looked more suited for coastal runs, likely considering Laurys was sailing with half a dozen men, and I got the feeling that was about half what he would have liked. They were certainly eager enough to accept my offer to help out. Or maybe "eager" isn't the right word. They would have accepted any kind of assistance, even if they thought I was some ignorant rich kid out for a lark with his sister. Once it became apparent that I knew my way around a sailing ship, they treated me with a grudging respect.
Unfortunately, it was slow going. There was very little wind, and the fog showed no signs of letting up--and despite some impatient noises from my sister, Captain Laurys had no intention of risking his ship, no matter how time sensitive our errand was. After that, I'd expected Azura to spend her evenings hiding in the hold, reading books in some fruitless search to find out Demetrios's secret before we arrived. I had forgotten who I was dealing with. She entertained the crew with card tricks and other feats of legerdemain, and by the second night, she'd apparently befriended Ceire de Lacey, the ship's first mate. I mostly stayed out of their way, but I did manage to eavesdrop on one or two conversations.
They were playing cards. I'd only crept within earshot because Ceire had just made a very loud surprised noise at the end of a hand, while my sister grinned and pocketed a handful of coin. I assumed it was about to turn violent. Instead I heard the first mate saying, with admiration in her tone, "You've got a larcenous streak, miss."
"I only cheat when everyone knows I'll be cheating." Azura paused for a moment. "When I'm playing cards, anyway."
"Probably a good call. I was never comfortable stealing from people while they're watching me." Ceire offered a wry grin. "Still! With your nerve, if you let me teach you a few tricks, you'll go far in this life."
"I very much intend to."
"Can I ask where you learned?"
"My old tutor, Master Demetrios. He's quite good at misdirection." She paused, then said, as if it were a great secret, "He thinks I'm quite bad at it, but I think I'm better than him now."
"Clever girl."
I crept away after that, before they noticed me. A ship this size offered very little privacy, even with such a small crew, but we occasionally managed to find some regardless. Azura made a rare appearance above decks as I was manning the helm one night, and sat next to me and stared out into the fog without speaking a word. The silence lasted so long I assumed she had no intention of breaking it--then, without warning, she did. "Demetrios would have called the winds to speed us on our journey, if he were here."
"I don't think he has that power."
She smiled. "Nor do I." Her smile faded. "But I do think that he's already on the island. And I think he'll try to kill us if he sees us."
"Starting to second guess yourself?"
"Never." A long pause followed. "How long until we arrive?"
"About a day."
"Not so long, then. Maybe there's still time." She fell silent once more. This time I could tell it would remain unbroken. I knew the shape of her silences by then. This one was new, though. She was facing the fact that following her whims on this occasion might very well kill her, or me, or very possibly both of us.
When I've told this story before, I've pretended I didn't know why she pressed on, or said that her motivations were altruistic, because that makes it easier. But I did know. I knew her better than she knew herself, back then--and she could likely make the same claim about me, of course. Part of it was pride, part of it was stubbornness. But mostly, she'd learned that whatever secrets Master Demetrios had, he was willing to kill for them. Our father always encouraged her to be curious, and she could be relied upon to attempt to unravel any mystery you set in front of her. If she found out that mystery was worth killing for--this is the part where she was realizing that there was nothing she wouldn't do to solve it.
Eventually she stood, and smiled at me in a way that I like to think was apologetic, and returned belowdecks. I worried, of course, but as far as I was concerned, I'd set my course long ago. Wherever she went, I would follow, and hope I'd be good enough to get her out of the trouble she was about to get into.
The wind picked up the following day, clearing the fog and carrying with it a bitter cold from the north. The following evening, we arrived at the island, which jutted black and ominous from the ocean. Rather than risk his ship in the high winds, Captain Laurys sent us in on the ship's boat, accompanied by the first mate. She rowed us in without complaint and helped me ashore, then stopped Azura just before she also disembarked. "You sure about this?"
"I'm never sure," said my sister. "If I was I wouldn't be here."
"Fair enough." Ceire paused. "But this place doesn't feel natural. If I were you, I'd turn back. There's a storm brewing."
"I can't do that now." Azura nodded at me, and I took her arm and pulled her ashore. Once she'd found her footing, she turned back. "Wait as long as you can. I don't think we'll be long."
"Good luck, kid."
We stood on the shore in silence and watched her row back into the distance. The wind seemed to have picked up, and I wrapped my cloak tighter about me. Azura seemed almost not to notice. She stood on the edge of the shore, her cloak whipping about wildly in the wind, staring off at the horizon.
"She's right, you know," I told her.
"Yes, storm tomorrow. But it won't matter. Tonight is the night."
"I mean about the other thing." I hoped she'd take my meaning, but she gave me a puzzled frown, so I continued. "This place isn't natural. There's something evil in the air."
She laughed and closed her eyes. "All I smell is salt on the wind and peat on the rocks."
"That's not what I mean."
"Well, regardless, we'll need to get some climbing in before dark." She turned to face the island. "Or I suppose you can wait down here if you like." Without waiting for a response, she pulled herself onto a nearby rock and began scaling the island.
I shook my head and followed. The rocks were slick with sea spray and moss, and she very nearly slipped several times. She laughed each time, but even from a distance I could see the fear in her eyes. We both remained silent. I wondered whether Master Demetrios was already here, as she predicted, and if so, if he was watching our ascent. Would we reach the top only to be pushed from the precipice?
We'd made it about halfway up the island when the sun finally vanished behind the horizon. She didn't so much call a halt as she stopped in a place large enough for us both to rest, laid out her cloak like a blanket, and lay down.
"Comfortable?" I asked.
"Not particularly."
"Didn't you say tonight was the night?"
She smiled and closed her eyes. "I'm waiting for the moon."
Last night the moon had been full--I remembered her mentioning that we were missing it in the fog--which meant tonight it would be rising about an hour after sunset. "You don't think maybe climbing in the dark is a bad idea?"
"Of course I do. That's why I'm waiting for moonrise."
"Will you at least let me go first?"
"Will it make you feel better?"
"Yes."
"Then yes."
When the moon finally rose, I nudged her awake and started up the rocks once more. I took it more slowly than I needed to, triple-checking every hold. She didn't seem to mind the slow pace, even if it did mean the trip seemed to take hours. When we did finally reach the summit, my arms were shaking and I wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest.
That was clearly not going to happen. Standing there, about twenty paces away, dressed in strange robes, stood Master Demetrios, silhouetted against the gibbous moon. "I expected you earlier," he intoned.
"A bit of an odd place to hold lessons, isn't it?" I asked.
"Lessons? What makes you think I have any interest in teaching you?"
I glanced at Azura, who offered a thin, self-satisfied smile. "You left all these clues and riddles behind," she said. "Surely you hoped we'd follow."
"Very clever," said Demetrios. He stalked towards us, his hands behind his back. Azura circled to keep him at distance. I put my hand on my sword. "But you missed one of the important clues. I confess I was disappointed."
"And what would that be?" I asked. He stood scant inches from me now, his attention focused on Azura. I shifted so he would have to push through me in order to get to her, and loosened my sword in its sheath. He didn't react in the slightest.
Then he produced a dagger from nowhere and plunged it into my chest. "The stars require sacrifice," he hissed, and pulled the blade clean.
I could feel the life slipping from me. I suppose I must have fallen to the ground, but I don't remember that. I just remember watching as Demetrios kicked me onto my back and stood above me with a sinister-looking black dagger. His attention was elsewhere, however. I wondered how long I had. Minutes? Seconds?
And over there, now frozen in fear, stood my sister. He was stalking towards her, speaking words I couldn't understand. I wanted to cry out and tell her to flee, but instead found myself coughing up blood. Besides, where could she go? It had taken hours of climbing to get up here.
He was within striking distance of her now. He was laughing. It was a cold, inhuman sound that died in his throat with a sickening gargle. He put his hands to his neck, made another gargling sound, and collapsed to his knees. My sister fell on him and stabbed him repeatedly with a knife--had she always had a knife?--and with his dagger, until long after he had stopped twitching and struggling, and then she slumped to the ground and wept.
A brilliant white light appeared--cold as starlight, blinding as the sun--and my sister rose to her feet, wiping away tears. Her hands and face were smeared with blood, and she looked like some ancient fey goddess of war, her knife in one hand, Demetrios's dagger in the other, each dripping with blood. If the light spoke any words, I could not hear them, but I could sense something--a question, perhaps, that seemed to ask: What do you want?
"I will not bargain unless you promise me that my brother and I will live, both now and hereafter." I sensed amusement from the creature, then acquiescence. The pain in my chest did not fade, but I felt life slowly returning--and as I probed the wound in my chest, I found that it had closed. As I struggled into a seated position, I sensed another question from the entity, this time tinged with suspicion. This time I could almost hear its words. You are not who I expected. Who are you?
"I have killed the man who came here. I am here to learn your secrets in his stead."
Your sacrifice is most pleasing. But he was bound to me, as you are not. What will you swear?
"I swear on my name that I shall serve you faithfully in all things, if you will but grant me your power."
The entity's full attention shifted to me. And you? Will you swear on your name?
"I swear on my name," I said weakly. I felt in that moment the full weight of something ancient and primal. Something that had been here long before there were humans to name the stars, and that would be here long after humans were all dead. I would have thrown myself on my sword if it had asked me to.
It turned back to my sister, and I sagged in relief, too overwhelmed to even feel the terror some dim part of my mind knew I should have. Swear it in blood, it told her. She took Demetrios's dagger and slit her palm, and her blood fell to the earth. I sensed immense satisfaction from it as it said: Very good. I will teach you the names of the stars.
It seemed as if they spoke for years. I fell into a fitful sleep, wondering if my sister had sold her soul to whatever this creature was. That night I dreamt of many things--confused images that seemed so clear and so real. I awoke as the first light of dawn appeared in the east, and the creature said: You will remain here. I have much for you to do.
My sister nodded her assent, and I could see the weariness in her eyes. Then the sun appeared and the creature faded, and my sister looked at me with a wild expression. "We have to get out of here, now." I frowned. Hadn't I dreamt of this very moment? How had I known what she would say before she said it?
But it was not the time for questions. There would be a storm soon, quite bad enough that Captain Laurys would abandon us. "Follow me," I said. "Put your hands and feet exactly where I put mine, and do exactly as I say." We scrambled back down the island. Yesterday I would have called our pace reckless, but I knew which rocks were treacherous before we reached them. We never slipped once. Of course, no boat was waiting for us when we reached the bottom.
"I assumed we'd be signalling at night," she said. "I never thought of one for the day." I'd never heard her sound so defeated, nor seen her look so exhausted, as she slumped against the rock wall and stared into the distance. "But if we don't get out of here by nightfall we're lost."
I smiled. "Wait here." I gathered up a signal mirror and scrambled once again to the top of the island. This time I managed it in about half an hour, though my arms and legs were shaking from the effort. Then I signaled the ship with the mirror, and smiled with satisfaction as they dropped a boat and sent it our way. I started my way back down, quite confident in my abilities to navigate it by the time they arrived.
Then I felt my fingers slip as my strength gave out, and I fell towards the water below. There was a flash of unimaginable pain, and the world went black.
I came to in the sickbay of the False Dawn, sometime in the middle of the storm, with the sense that I had forgotten something important. The ship rolled violently and my entire body ached with its every motion--but I was alive, somehow. And somehow I knew my sister would be abovedecks. I fought back the nausea that came with moving and staggered my way there, and found her standing at the bow. I saw two images of her standing there. One--and this is the one I know the crew saw--was perfectly composed, her hair and dress perfectly unmoved by the storm. In the other her clothes were torn and her hair was wild, both whipping about violently in the wind. She had her back to me but I knew she would be grinning.
I tried to say her name, and realized I no longer knew what it was. For that matter, I no longer knew my own name. "What have you done?" I asked. I already knew the answer, though. I remembered the entity, binding us with oaths and blood. I could not recall our names because we had none.
"I stole the names of the stars," she said, not bothering to look back. "Like I said I would."
"Is it worth it?"
She just laughed at that, but there was something broken in that sound. "You should rest," she said. "We'll talk when the storm calms."
I nodded and returned belowdecks and tried to sleep. For once it came easily. The storm had calmed by the time I awoke, and my sister had disappeared without a trace--only a letter which she had apparently slipped in my pocket, and enough coin to last me for a while. The letter was a warning not to return to this island, and a farewell, which I shall keep private. The important thing is that she was leaving, and she did not expect our paths to cross again in the near future.
I found Captain Laurys in his cabin. He gave me a strange look. "So, your sister never told me where you were going."
"I'm not so sure, myself."
The captain watched me for a moment thoughtfully, then added, as if to himself, "I bet she didn't." His eyes sparkled knowingly. "In that case, you're welcome to sail with me for as long as you like."
"I think I'd like that."
Perhaps one day the winds would take me back home, and I knew if I just followed the stories I could find my sister again. But these concerns seemed so distant now, and the call of the gulls so urgent. So I joined the crew of the False Dawn, and set myself adrift, and for a while, at least, I was even happy.