The Stargazer

Stargazer (chapter three)

Her head hurt. That realization sank through the dark into her brain and Aislinn moaned. Lethargy weighed her limbs and it took all her strength to force her eyes open.


Stone. Square cut blocks of interlocking stone.


She blinked, squinted. The view remained unchanged.


“Wow, you’re pretty.”


The unfamiliar gravely voice pulled her attention from the ceiling and she turned her head to stare into the oddest face she’d ever seen. It appeared cobbled together from random bits of leather sewn over roughly carved wood. Eyes like polished river stones peered down at her with undisguised curiosity. A neat row of obviously new stitching encircled its throat like a necklace.


“A golem,” she said wonderingly. A construct of bespelled wood and once living tissue. They were rare in the Fae Realms, their only purpose one of unswerving service to their makers and that was a great deal of power to expend to create a servant. The Fae she knew were reluctant to waste their power so frivolously.


“Yep.” It tilted its head, still staring at her. “You’re smart. Rowan tried to chop me up the first time he saw me.”


“Rowan?” She moved carefully, surprised at the lack of pain. She should at least have cuts from the broken glass, not just the ache of over-tired muscles. Sitting up proved a bit of a trial with the golem crouched so close to the bed, but it appeared to be more fascinated by her existence than threatening. Sliding her legs off the side of the bed, she held herself carefully still and her wings tucked away. Until she knew more about this place and its owners, she wasn’t taking any chances.


The golem didn’t answer.


“Who is Rowan?” she pressed gently.


“The other person who lives here.”


She blinked. Not the most forthcoming answer she’d ever heard.  She tried again.


“Rowan is the other person who lives here?”


It nodded happily, apparently content with her grasp of the situation.


She looked around. A round room with a single door and a small fireplace met her gaze. A small table with two chairs sat to one side and she currently occupied a narrow bed, the only other piece of furniture. No sign of the astrolabe or the mirror she’d so clumsily fallen onto. A quick look at her arms showed not a single scratch.


“Where is here?”


Again, the golem only tilted its head as if not understanding the question. His head, she decided. It was decidedly male in construction as well as its grasp of communication.


“Where is Rowan now?”


“Out.”


“Out where?”


“Outside.”


This wasn’t going anywhere fast. Aislinn took a deep breath and dredged up what patience she could. It wasn’t the golem’s fault. There were limitations to any magical construct. If he couldn’t tell her where she was, he still might be able to narrow the possibilities.


“What is this place?”


“A bubble.”


Breathe. She needed to remember to breathe.


“I don’t understand. Can you explain it to me?”


“Oh.” The golem blinked. The leather over his skull darkened and she could have sworn she could see steam rising. “It’s a bubble. Kind of. Not really anywhere but a bubble of stuff, like time but not time and not anywhere in particular.”


She closed her eyes, counted to ten and then added another ten for good measure.


“What’s your name?”


“Wheezer.”


“Who made you, Wheezer?”


“My maker.”


Okay. She’d asked for that one. “Do you know where this Rowan is besides just outside?”


“No.” He shook his head mournfully. “Probably in Summer. He likes it there but sometimes he goes to Autumn or Spring.”


“Not Winter?” she asked dryly.


Apparently sarcasm wasn’t part of his makeup. He nodded, his pebble-like eyes gleaming. “Too cold for him in Winter.”


“If you needed to find him, how would you do it?”


“Walk.”


Not fly? She bit back the words before they could spill over. Instead, she smoothed her gown and stood. Wheezer stood and took a step back, shrinking as he did so. Not just in posture, she realized, but in size. He now stood a head shorter than she was when a moment ago he’d been a good foot taller. She opened her mouth to ask him about it but closed it again. That would be an exercise in futility she’d save for another time.


The door opened easily under her hand, letting her out into a moderately temperate day. About fifty feet from the tower, a dense forest began. Flicking out her wings, she rose to the height of the tower, trying to get a better view of the landscape, ignoring the startled whoop from Wheezer. Tree, trees, and more trees. She rose higher.


Beyond the band of unseasonably green trees, the world below her was cut into four distinct quarters. Directly in front of her, Summer flowed in a green so brilliant it hurt the eyes while to her left Spring spangled silver in the light. To her right, Autumn gilded the trees in purest gold. Turning, she found Winter, diamond bright and glittering like jewels.


Well, that explained that portion of Wheezer’s less-than-useful description. If this Rowan person was in Summer, she might as well try to find him. Perhaps he could explain things better than the golem.


She headed toward the lush green of Summer. The air warmed as she neared as if she were changing seasons along with the landscape.


Without warning, the landscape skewed, twisting under her and she nearly broadsided the tower where it thrust into the sky. She backwinged, saving herself a painful collision with solid stone and looked over her shoulder. Summer lay behind her now, the green undimmed. A peek over the top of the tower showed Winter gleaming beyond. Maybe the way into Summer lay through Winter, she thought.


She flew slower this time, doing her best to keep her eyes on the frosted landscape ahead of her. Between one breath and the next, the world shifted and she had to dodge to avoid flying into the tower.


Wheezer sat cross-legged on the ground beside the edifice, chewing on a thread dangling from his wrist. She stared down at him. He only waved at her and went back to chewing the loose string.


Bubble. He’d said this place was a bubble. She could understand going full circle and coming back to the tower but she’d never reached Summer. She looked up at the sky, panic edging in.


She shot into the sky, going straight up as high and fast as she could. Before she reached the hazy softness of the clouds, she was suddenly heading straight toward the ground. She pulled up just in time, a sob catching in her throat. She was not going to let this thing beat her. She would not be trapped in a bubble!


But no matter how fast she flew or in which direction she flew, the tower always reappeared in front of her. Dark covered the landscape before she gave in to exhaustion and sank down on the ground, sobbing into her arms.