Starfinder

THE CASTLE

IN THEIR LONG COATS AND oversized boots, Moth and Fiona trundled along the riverbank, keeping close to the trees and doing their best to stay out of the open. It felt strange to be alone again, without Esme for company or Merceron to tell them where they were going. At first, they welcomed the chance to walk again. But walking was so much slower than flying, and as the hours wore on even Fiona wished they were back in Merceron’s homemade saddle, gliding toward Pandera.

Moth himself said little as they traveled. He watched the treetops for Redeemers, worried that Merceron was wrong about the creatures only flying at night. So far, they had yet to sight the promised mountains, and they knew they wouldn’t be reaching the centaur valley for at least another day. That meant a night spent by themselves—out in the open, without a dragon to protect them.

Usually it was Moth who kept the conversations going, but this time that duty fell to Fiona. With a game smile she kept her tone jolly, embarrassing Moth with her efforts to cheer him. In fact, Moth didn’t want to be cheered. He was afraid, and he’d never felt so alone since the day his mother died. Being happy now seemed somehow disrespectful.

“… and we had a big house,” Fiona said as they plodded along. She had been talking about her life back in Capital City for almost an hour. It was something she rarely did, but now she didn’t seem to know how to stop. “So many rooms. There was always one more light to turn out before going to bed!”

“We just had the apartment,” said Moth. “All we had to do was blow out a candle.”

“Well, you had Leroux at least.”

“You had your parents. Both of them.”

“Oh.”

Moth didn’t want her trying so hard. Mostly, he just wanted quiet. And to reach Pandera in one piece.

“I wonder what they’ll be like,” said Fiona.

“Who?”

“Jorion and his centaurs,” said Fiona. “I wonder if they’ll be like they are in books.”

“I doubt it. I’ve seen plenty of dragons in books, and none of them were like Merceron. Smoking a pipe, tinkering…” Moth laughed. “The centaurs here probably all play chess and talk in rhymes.”

“And wear spectacles,” said Fiona.

“And dresses!”

“No,” said Fiona sharply. “Merceron said they were brave fighters. I bet they’re not afraid of the Redeemers.”

“Merceron wasn’t afraid of them, either,” said Moth. “He just wanted to protect us.”

Fiona nodded but didn’t say anything.

When afternoon came they rested, finding a shady spot to share some of the food they had left and fill their canteens from the river. The river tumbled with clear water. Moth had heard of sparkling rivers, but this one actually did sparkle, and the fish inside it sparkled too, darting through the rocks, the sun making rainbows on their bellies. The river was wider here than it had been before, the current just a little faster. The farther north they traveled, the bigger and faster it got.

Fiona knew she couldn’t tell Moth she was afraid. He was only a year younger then her, but it was an important year and he was a boy. Admit it or not, he needed her. For Fiona, that meant keeping a stupid smile plastered on her face and talking when she didn’t feel like it. She surprised herself by telling Moth about the friends she’d left behind in Capital City, her pet parakeets, the trips she had taken to museums, and the day her mother and father died. She even told him about the day her grandfather came to collect her. She remembered his face, so stormy and grave at the death of his daughter, and so unhappy to have to raise another child when he was already so busy.

Moth listened to every word and barely spoke at all. Fiona could tell he was rapt. He trailed behind her, occasionally nodding when she said something important. Finally, they followed a bend in the river and came out of the forest, emerging into a rolling expanse of fields and meadows filled with wildflowers. The river chugged eastward, slicing toward a distant range of mountains. The sight stopped Fiona short.

One little curve in the river, and the mountains Merceron had promised them appeared, a sheer wall of rock across the horizon. Their staggering height stole Fiona’s breath. Her eyes traced them up, up, to where their peaks disappeared in the clouds.

“It looks like a castle,” she whispered.

Moth came to a halt beside her. “I don’t even think Merceron could get over those mountains. No wonder the Skylords leave the centaurs alone.”

For the first time in days, a sense of hope touched Fiona. They’d be safe beyond the mountains, she was sure of it. Safe with the centaurs. Safe inside their impregnable castle.

“Merceron said there’d be a way through,” she remembered. “He said the river runs under the mountains.”

“There’s probably secret trails all over the mountains,” said Moth. “Probably paths only the centaurs know about.” He looked up into the sky. “We’re out in the open here. It’ll be getting dark soon.”

Fiona started right out toward the mountains “If we move fast we can make it by tomorrow night,” she said. She was buoyant suddenly, her smile genuine. “It’s our castle, Moth,” she said. “You told me there wasn’t one, but there it is!”

“Huh?”

“Back in Calio at my grandfather’s house. When we were sitting on the wall.”

“Fiona, I don’t remember. That was the night Leroux died.”

Fiona glanced back at him. “Sorry,” she said. “Let’s just hurry, all right?”

She took his hand and pulled him forward, urging him faster along the riverbank. It didn’t matter if he remembered or not. He’d told her that there were no faraway castles for her, no place for her to run.

He was wrong.

When night finally arrived, they found a place beneath some fruit trees to hide. Using leaves and branches for blankets, they buried themselves from the eyes of the Redeemers, leaving just enough of the sky visible to see what might be stalking them. The long walk had exhausted Moth. Although the mountains did seem closer now, he knew there were still miles to go tomorrow. He said good night to Fiona and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him away.

But soon he dreamed. Of Merceron, mostly, but also of Leroux and the Redeemers. In his dream Moth asked Leroux why he’d never mentioned the Redeemers or the terribleness of the Skylords. Leroux smiled in his dream and said, “Because I was in love.”

The answer bothered Moth enough to wake him. When his eyes opened he noticed Fiona next to him, staring up at the sky through the hole in the trees.

“What are you looking at?” he asked groggily.

“Nothing,” said Fiona. “Go back to sleep.”

So Moth did.

Fiona searched the sky for Jorian. She could only see a little patch of stars through the trees, but they were directly above her, the same place she had seen the centaur chieftain before. She imagined him in his valley beyond the mountains, defying the Skylords, ready to protect her, and she wondered why Merceron and the dragons could ever dislike such brave creatures. If centaurs were like horses, then they were noble. Fiona knew horses. She had ridden them when her parents were alive.

She caught a glimpse of a single bright star burning hot above her.

“Jorian’s eye,” she whispered.

The star twinkled as it watched her.