Starfinder

A DIFFERENT SKY

EVEN AFTER A LONG DAY of walking, Fiona doubted she could ever fall asleep. With their long coats for sleeping bags, she and Moth lay beneath a carpet of stars, gazing up in wonder. Fiona had seen stars at home, of course, but the gray skies of Capital City had never looked like this, and she knew that counting them all would take the rest of her life. In this world—whatever this new world was called—the stars actually twinkled. Some even streaked across the night, leaving a dusty, fading trail. Wide-eyed, too excited to sleep, Fiona imagined she and Moth were in a safe place, where none of the strange creatures of this world could find them.

In truth, they were not very far from the place where they had seen the mermaid. After that odd encounter, they had somehow found the strength to hike an hour more, but with little progress. Feet aching, legs aching, they found another solitary nook along the bank of the sparkling river, spreading out their coats and settling down for the night. Lady Esme stayed close to them, descending from the sky as darkness fell. Moth used a single, precious match to start a fire, just big enough to warm a meat pie for the three of them to share.

But of course it was not enough, and as he lay next to her, Fiona could hear the pleading rumbling of Moth’s stomach.

“Sorry,” he said, putting a hand over his belly.

Fiona tried not to think about food. Their supplies, which seemed so ample the day before, had dwindled quickly. “Pretend you had a big meal. Pretend you’re so full you’d get sick if you ate another bite.”

“How am I supposed to make myself believe that?” said Moth. “We’ll find some food along the way tomorrow, don’t worry. We just haven’t been looking for it, that’s all. This place is bound to be loaded with good stuff to eat. Maybe we’ll catch some fish.”

“Don’t mention fish, please,” said Fiona. A picture of the mermaid bloomed in her mind. Why had it frightened her so much?

“I hope we see her again,” said Moth. His voice was almost dreamy.

Fiona didn’t turn her head, afraid to see that look in his eyes, the kind of look that said he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life as that mermaid. “We won’t,” she told him. “She’s afraid of us. She’s probably told her whole family about us by now. We’ll be lucky if they don’t crawl up on shore and strangle us while we’re sleeping.”

“Mermaids don’t do that,” Moth scolded. “Really, Fiona, sometimes…”

But he didn’t finish his sentence. He just grumbled and went back to looking at the stars. They were altogether different here in this world, and not just because they were brighter. They were mixed up and jumbled, like someone had shaken them in a box and strewn them across the sky. Fiona had given up trying to locate the few constellations she knew back home. Suddenly, everything perplexed her.

“When I was little,” she whispered, “my mother used to take me outside at night and show me the stars. I used to want to touch them, so my mother would pick me up and lift me as high as she could. She’d tell me to stretch out my hand. ‘Stretch, Fiona!’ ”

Moth asked with a chuckle, “Is that how you got so tall?”

“I really thought I could catch a star. She used to tell me that someday I’d be big enough to reach up and grab them for myself.” Fiona’s smile faded. It should have been a happy memory, but it wasn’t. “Why do parents lie to their kids like that?” she wondered.

“They didn’t lie, Fiona. Parents don’t lie.”

“Yes, they do. Mine told me they’d come back. But they went up in that airship and died.” Finally, she turned to face Moth. “What did your mother tell you when she was sick? Did she tell you she was going to die?”

Moth’s face puckered. “No. She told me she’d be all right.”

“See?” Fiona went back to stargazing. Then, another thought came to her. “Why do you think he’s up there?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Merceron. Why does he have a constellation? Only dead people have constellations named after them. Fake people.”

“Hmm, I’ve been thinking about that myself,” said Moth. He shifted his body as if uncomfortable. “We can ask him when we meet him.”

“When do you think we’ll meet him?” asked Fiona.

“Tomorrow, probably.” Moth nodded at his own prediction. “Yeah. Tomorrow definitely.”

Fiona blinked up at the sky. “All right,” she said, trying to sound courageous. “Tomorrow, then.”