The Stargazer

Stargazer (chapter ninteen)

Carradoc watched his daughter cradle the thin book in her hands, looking lost. He would do anything to wipe that look off her face. She and Aislinn were as close as sisters and it hurt his heart to see her this way.


“I’ll find her, Raewyn. I promise. Just don’t let them do anything stupid.”


The princes gave him identical looks of disdain but he wasn’t fooled. They, like he, would do anything for the ones they loved and Aislinn was as dear to them as Raewyn was to him.


His daughter’s lips quirked in spite of her worry, a spark of humor in the violet depths of her eyes. “I don’t know if I can work miracles but I’ll do my best.”


A crash of shattering glass sounded from high up the tower, jerking him around.


“Stay here,” he barked.


Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the upper landing before either of the princes could argue with him. With his hand on his sword hilt, he carefully pushed open the door.


The astrolabe lay in a twisted heap, shards of the mirror glittering across the floor. Stepping quietly into the room, Carradoc gazed around at the destruction. A moan came from the far side of the tangle of metal and broken glass. A whisper of Wilding rose, illuminating what couldn’t be seen by the others.


A man lay on the far side of the room amid what was left of the astrolabe.  Carradoc rounded the wreckage and knelt beside him. The man was big, dark haired and powerfully built. He was also bleeding from numerous wounds. Carradoc turned him over with care.


“Aislinn,” the man whispered. “Where is Aislinn?”


The flesh of the man’s arm had been shredded to the bone by something with large teeth. Without care, he wouldn’t last much longer.


“Easy,” Carradoc murmured. “We’re trying to find her now.”


The man grabbed at him, his fingers tight on Carradoc’s arm. “You’ve got to find her. Keep her safe.”


“We will.”


There was something odd about the man, something fundamentally different that it took him a moment to understand.


“You’re human.”


The man slumped back, his breathing a moist rattling that signaled deeper injuries. His golden eyes wandered to the ceiling and a faint smile touched his mouth.


“I’m home.”


The whisper was so faint, Carradoc barely caught it.


“Stargazer?”


But the man’s eyes were drifting closed, his life seeping away, and there was nothing Carradoc could do about it. He’d left the two people who might have the power to help downstairs and time was running out.


“Keep her safe for me.”


The whisper was the last thing he heard as the man on the floor simply vanished from under his hands leaving behind only blood and broken glass.





*****





“I sense your fear.”


Aislinn bolted backward from the oddly flat, menacing voice. Cold flooring spread smooth under her hands where a moment before there had been only dirt. Darkness folded around her, no sign of any light. Something wooden and square blocked her retreat and she huddled there, trying to get her bearings. The air smelled like turpentine and sable and other things she couldn’t quite place.


“It is my destiny to defeat you!”


A tinny, mechanical whirring sound came from a few feet in front of her, less startling this time. She held still, hoping that whatever the creature was, it would give up and go away. She was in no shape to battle anything right now.


“My skills and weapons are super-human!”


Super-human? She blinked uncomprehendingly into the dark. Stirring sounds came from high above her, muffled footfalls and muttering voices.


“…told you to get rid of that thing.”


A woman, irritable and sleepy.  A man’s laughing murmur. A light flicked on, illuminating a staircase not far from where she cowered. The wooden thing at her back turned out to be the leg of a work bench. Even dark, the place seemed familiar.


Flashing lights strobed near her feet and she cringed away.


“I will complete my mission with honor!”


Another light flicked on and Aislinn blinked against the brilliance.


Near her feet, a small black form made of plastic blinked and flashed, its belt lighting up as tiny nunchucks spun in its hand. Relief made her giddy. It was only a toy. A squat, ugly robotic ninja complete with a red mask over lighted eyes.


Relief was short lived.


“I’m going to throw that stupid thing in the garbage,” the woman was saying.


“Aislinn?”


A tall, dark haired man knelt at her feet but not the man she wanted most to see. The woman behind him eased back into the shadows, her arms moving protectively over the mound of her stomach. The rippling flame of her hair remained muted in the dim light.


“Where’s Rowan?” Aislinn managed, still huddled in a ball. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking.


Damien Morrow, artist, foreseer, and shapeshifting griffin, eyed her with no small worry but made no move to touch her.


“Who?”


An array of lights came on, starkly illuminating the large sprawl of the studio with no sign of Rowan. The floor around her was littered with leaves of silver and gold, a green too bright to be natural. Fear clamped a tight vice around her lungs and she held herself tighter, rocking.


“Rowan?”


Her faint call brought no answer and only a deepening look of confusion from Damien.


“Rowan!”


Stronger now, echoing back from the high arch of the skylights. Still no answer. Tears welled to spill over her cheeks and she held herself tighter, wondering if she would simply fly apart if she let go. She closed her eyes, willing strength into her limbs, her voice, but nothing came. There was simply not enough left to do more than sit there and sob.


“Easy, sweetheart. Easy.” Damien pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “What happened? Does your mother know you’re here?”


The last held the flavor of an afterthought. Aislinn could only sob harder. Damien gave up on words and settled for rocking her gently as he had when she was a small child. His wife, Eithné, remained apart, taking it all in with pale green eyes.


The air stirred around them, setting dust motes to dancing in the dim light, and Damien shifted, still rocking her.


“Your brother’s are looking for you,” he murmured. “They’re Whispering. Do you want me to let them know you’re all right?”


She nodded into his tear-soaked shirt, unable to find the energy to form words or wonder why she couldn’t hear the Whispers. He moved a little away.


“Aislinn? You need to let go, honey. I’m can tell them you’re here, but I can’t do it and hold you at the same time.”


Somehow, he managed to extricate himself from her grip and she sat where he left her, huddled in a ball. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t seem to stop crying. Tears washed her cheeks and sobs shook her body. Not even the sight of Damien shifting into a magnificent black griffin could shake the despair that gripped her. Only in that form could he speak to distant friends.


Eithné remained apart, protective of her unborn child. Aislinn couldn’t blame her. The pair had tried for so long for a child. She wouldn’t want to be the cause of any problems at this stage.


The sylph bent to pick up a sprig of silver leaves, her expression thoughtful.


“Aislinn?” she asked softly. “Where have you been?”


Aislinn could only shake her head. There was no real answer to that. The place she had been no longer existed. Because the power had shattered the walls or because Rowan was dead and there was no longer a need for it? The thought brought another flood of tears.


Damien was back, gathering her up and heading for the stairs.


“Your father is on his way.”


She didn’t protest when he laid her on the sofa and tucked a blanket around her. Turning her face into the cushions, she wept. All the fear she’d held back while trapped washed over her. If only she hadn’t been so stubborn, Rowan might still be alive. If only she had taken advantage of the opportunity she had been offered to get to know the man behind the snarly scowl.


Her body hurt from numerous cuts and scrapes, her insides raw from the power that had blazed through her. But not even her shredded wings hurt as badly as the ache in her chest. She could feel the cracks through her heart, the pieces falling away in tearing, grinding agony. There was no reconciling the pain, no managing it. There was only enduring, grieving, crying. The pain pulled her deeper into herself, into the dark of semi-consciousness but without relief.


Voices came and went. Hands touched her shoulders, wiped tears from her cheeks where they were replaced by new ones. Dark, warm power touched her, washed through her, but didn’t touch the torment that held her in its grip. She knew they moved her, felt the familiar touch of Fae magic caress her.


She was going home but nothing would ever be the same again.