Starfinder

STARGAZING

AS THE SUN WENT DOWN in the valley, so did the temperature. Moth and Fiona cleared a place amid the grass, using the sticks and branches they’d gathered to build what looked like a nest around them. Merceron lit a fire with his fingers, then surprised the others by making the flames dance into the forms of animals. Soon the moon came out, and then the stars. Moth fed Lady Esme from the supplies they’d brought from Merceron’s lair. Together they huddled in the light of the fire, munching on strips of dried meat while the dragon entertained them. Each of them had napped, and now, as midnight came, they were all wide awake.

Fiona remained quiet, but managed to smile at the bird Merceron made from the fire. Using his claws, he drew in the air to let the bird take flight before disappearing. Lady Esme watched the thing, fascinated. Moth gently scratched her feathered head.

The Starfinder sat on the grass in front of him, its mirror blank, its levers and scope unmoving. Moth gazed up as he bit into an apple, marveling at a sky absolutely pregnant with stars. Being on the run had given him precious little time for stargazing. He picked up the Starfinder, noting the patterns etched into its gleaming metal, trying to match them to the ones twinkling overhead.

“Merceron,” he said softly, “do you know all the constellations?”

Merceron took his pipe from his pocket. “Most of them,” he said as he emptied the dottle onto the ground. Moth liked watching Merceron light his pipe, because he always made a show of it. Carefully the dragon packed the bowl with fresh tobacco, then produced a flame at the tip of a long fingernail. He moved the flame in a circular motion around the bowl, puffing gently. Then he let out a long, relaxed breath and leaned back. “Point one out to me,” he said. “I’ll tell you what it’s called.”

Moth had already chosen one, a constellation he had seen engraved on the Starfinder. “There,” he said. “That one looks like an airship to me.”

“Close. That’s the Gothrol, the ship of dreams.” Smoke drifted lazily out of Merceron’s nose. “A ship that can travel anywhere—seas, mountaintops, deserts. They say if you fall asleep aboard Gothrol, you’ll wake up in whatever place you dreamed of going.”

“Come on,” squawked Fiona. She put her palms up to the fire. “There’s a lot of crazy things here, I know, but who could make something like that?”

“The seafolk of Lorn. They’re all dead now, but once they traveled all over the world, probably when the Skylords were young.”

“Does the Gothrol still exist?” asked Moth.

“Of course,” said Merceron. “I told you—every constellation is something or someone that exists in the Realm. The Starfinder can find all of them. Go on, pick another.” Merceron nudged Fiona with his tail. “You try this time.”

Fiona looked up without much interest. Her eyes moved over the stars, stopping suddenly on a group right above their heads. “There,” she pointed. “With that bright star.”

“The red one?”

Fiona nodded.

“I know that one. What does it look like to you?”

“Like a horse,” said Fiona instantly.

Merceron looked astonished. “That’s Jorion, the centaur. Do you know what a centaur is?”

“Yeah, like half a man and half a horse stuck together.”

Moth laughed. Merceron just smirked.

“Ugly beasts, centaurs. Jorion is their chieftain.” Merceron took the pipe from his mouth and used it to point toward the constellation. “That red star represents his eye. Centaurs are great hunters. They can see almost as well as Esme.”

“Are there many centaurs?” asked Moth.

“Oh, yes. They live in a valley not far from Taurnoken. No one sees much of them, though.”

Fiona studied her constellation. “What are they like?”

“Arrogant,” snorted Merceron. “Hard to abide. Even the Skylords leave them alone. They don’t think much of dragons, either.”

“Why not?” asked Moth.

“Jealous, probably. Centaurs don’t live the way dragons do. They think with their fists instead of their heads. When the war with the Skylords ended, they called us cowards. They thought we should have kept on fighting. Maybe that’s true, but how would they know? They didn’t lose anything. They can’t fly.”

It was strange seeing Merceron angry. He bit down hard on his pipe. Moth could tell he was thinking about more than just centaurs.

“Will we see any centaurs when we get to Taurnoken?” asked Fiona.

Merceron shook his head. “Taurnoken’s a dragon city, Fiona. Centaurs aren’t welcome. They’re not welcome anywhere.”

“Why? Because they’re ugly?”

“I told you why,” said Merceron.

“You told me you don’t like them.”

“No one likes them, Fiona. That’s why they stay in their valley.” Merceron tilted his head back to exhale a stream of smoke. “But they’re brave, at least. Not much brains but a whole lot of heart.”

“Merceron, can we see Jorion with the Starfinder?” asked Moth.

Fiona sat up. “Yeah!”

“No,” said Merceron.

“Why not?” Moth reached for the Starfinder. “All I have to do is call his name, right?”

Merceron glared at him. “If you want to be like a Skylord, go ahead. Speak Jorion’s name. Invade his privacy. Spy on him.”

Moth set down the Starfinder. “Oh.”

The dragon’s tail came around his shoulders. “Don’t forget why the Skylords made the Starfinder,” he said gently. “Think what it would be like to be a slave.”

Moth felt his face getting hot. “Sorry.”

Merceron extended his tail toward Fiona, tugging her closer. “Listen to me now, both of you,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

Moth and Fiona pressed together in his embrace. Merceron struggled with his words.

“I left a mate in Taurnoken,” he said. “Her name is Dreojen.”

“A mate,” said Moth. “You mean a wife?”

“A brood mate is more than a wife,” said Merceron. “Humans take wives. They live together for a blink of an eye and call that love. They watch the sunrise together. Dragons watch rivers being born. We watch volcanoes live and die. Do you see?”

“I think so,” said Moth. It was hard for him to imagine such stretches of time. “You spend all your lives together.”

“But you left her,” Fiona blurted. “You just left her?”

“Where I was going, she couldn’t follow,” said Merceron. “There was no life for her living in a hole in the ground, hiding from the Skylords. I was too dangerous for her to be around.”

“So you left her,” snorted Fiona. “Typical.”

“C’mon, Fiona. He had to!”

“Don’t argue about it,” said Merceron. “You were wondering about me, so I told you.” His eyes glazed over with memories. “But it’s been a long time…”

“You must be dying to see her again,” said Moth excitedly. “What will you say?”

“Yeah, that should be good,” quipped Fiona.

Merceron let Lady Esme climb onto his shoulder. The stars and firelight shined in his reptilian eyes.

“I will tell her that I’ve missed her,” he said. “That I missed our togetherness. That I miss everything that we once had. And I’ll be afraid when I see her, and I’ll shake like a child.” Then, Merceron looked right at Fiona and said, “And I’ll hope that she forgives me for leaving her.”