Three Seeking Stars

by Avi Silver

  “At rest.” The hatchlings dropped down, eyes locked on him for their reward. Ahn swallowed, reining in his thoughts before they drifted into dangerous territory.

  Behind him, Mama chirped loudly. He tossed her the rest of the food without a word. Training the alpha seemed risky, far beyond his capabilities; he wasn’t sure how much work he could even do on a creature of Mama’s age and status.

  He turned back to the hatchlings, raising a hand without any treats in it. Moment of truth. “Up!” he called to them, and they rose.

  “At rest,” he said, and they sat. Though they chirped quietly, they accepted his stroking as reward enough, and he felt himself glow with pride at his work.

  “...what you are doing, Ahnschen?”

  Ahn was abruptly jolted from his pride, nearly poking one of the hatchlings in the eye. With a little tut of apology, he looked up to see Hei watching him with their arms crossed.

  “Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “You startled me.”

  They didn’t return the warmth. On the contrary, they were looking at him with more hostility than he had seen in weeks. He resisted the urge to take it personally; of course they would be tense after the sãoni’s altercation with the scouts.

  With a single click, they nodded their chin in the direction of the little sãoni. “What is this?”

  “Oh!” He stood up. Maybe showing them the new trick would help lift their mood. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve—I’ve actually been working at it all afternoon. Look, let me show you. Up!”

  With well-practiced movements, he bade the hatchlings rise and rest, not even needing meat as a motivator this time. They moved with his hand, their bodies synchronized in a perfect demonstration of his training abilities. To his delight, he noticed that some of the other sãoni were paying attention. Perhaps the older ones wouldn’t be so difficult to work with after all.

  He looked back at Hei, smiling brightly. “You see? They’re so clever, they picked it up so—”

  Hei was not smiling back. Ahn’s enthusiasm faltered, his hands dropping to his sides.

  “Is something wrong...?” he asked. One of the hatchlings jumped up at his hand, nosing between his fingers for where the meat used to be.

  Hei stepped forward, making a sharp sãoni noise that sent the hatchlings scurrying away. They growled something Ahn couldn’t understand, then followed it up in Dulpongpa. “No more. No more... this!”

  “What?” Ahn’s shoulders fell. He couldn’t understand what they were so angry about. “What did I do?”

  Hei gestured aggressively at the sãoni. “Animals. Not, not games. Not for—” The imitated his motions, only seeming to get more frustrated by their inability to share the language. “Not yours.”

  “Animals play plenty of games,” Ahn said tersely. He could feel the tension that had eased from him this afternoon returning, putting him on the defensive. Vaguely, he wondered why that was the first thing he had thought to say.

  “Not your games,” Hei retorted.

  Ahn wasn’t sure what they meant by that, but he didn’t appreciate their tone. Why—after all of these weeks of struggling to understand each other, after the hard-earned nights where they had finally been able to sit side-by-side without Sohmeng as a barrier—why were they treating him with so much distrust? He had been so sure that somewhere along the way they had come to an understanding.

  “It’s not just for fun, Hei,” Ahn said. “I’m—I want to see if we can train them. I want to help.”

  “Help?” Hei spat, turning their back to him. “No help. Just trouble, more big trouble.”

  “How is training them trouble?”

  “Human games! Sãoni not—not for humans.”

  The creatures around him were paying even more attention now, alarmed by Hei’s raised voice. Ahn doubted his own frustration was doing much to help, and he tried once more to keep it in check. He tugged at his earpiece. “Well speaking as a human, I think we would all feel a bit more reassured to know that they could be tamed.”

  Hei squinted, missing the word. “Tamed? What is tamed?”

  It should have been obvious that he would have to explain this. “Not wild. Not dangerous. Still animals, but they listen to humans. Tame.”

  Hei let out what must have been the Sãonipa equivalent of a curse, a hiss loud and vicious enough that Mama rose with a warning growl. They advanced on him, the fury in their eyes burning hot enough to intimidate despite the several inches he had on them. Briefly, he wondered if they were going to go back on their word and hit him.

  “Not being good,” they said, voice shaking. “Just like all others—other humans. Worse. Sãoni tsongkar.”

  The word hit him with surprising force, falling like a stone in his stomach. He had gotten used to hearing it flung around by the residents of Nona Fahang, but this was different. It hurt in a way he could not explain, to be met with such disgust by someone he was coming to think of as a friend.

  Ahn had made plenty of mistakes, but he did not think this was one of them. So instead of shrinking back, he held his ground. “The sãoni don’t seem to mind.”

  “What?” Hei snapped.

  “You don’t like it,” Ahn said slowly, “but they have not complained. UP.”

  With a sharp lift of his hand, the hatchlings were up on their hind legs again, squeaking at him nervously. Despite the fact that this colony had been prepared to eat him not a Qiao Sidhur month before, the rest of the sãoni made no move against him. Even the alpha simply watched, growling in a way that Ahn did not fully believe was directed at him alone.

  He narrowed his eyes at Hei, emboldened by the proof around him. “At rest,” he said, the words a warning to them both.

  Hei wasn’t interested in heeding it. With another Sãonipa snarl, they lunged—

  —only to be stopped by a swat from Mama. They struggled against her powerful legs, her pressing nose. Ahn would have stumbled out of the scuffle, but the giant lizard had pinned him with one of her back legs, and the hatchlings were using the opportunity to jump all over him in search of more food.

  “You—!” Hei shouted, but their voice was drowned out by the squawks of the alpha.

  The commotion only got louder when Sohmeng came running through the entrance to Nona Fahang. She was out of breath, frazzled; a piece of bark was caught in her bun.

  “Whoa!” she shouted, looking at the scene before her. “Whoa, whoa, what in two dark moons—”

  Hei let out an unintelligible sãoni noise, still fighting against the powerful hold of the alpha, whose concerned nosing had all but knocked them on their back. With a careful roll, Ahn pulled himself out from under the cage of claws, panting with effort.

  “Sohmeng,” he said, quickly trying to compose himself. Given the interspecies brawl that he was currently involved in, it probably wasn’t very convincing. “I didn’t, I didn’t see you there—”

  Sohmeng rushed over to Hei, trying to calm them down alongside Mama. “Yeah, funny that. Anyone want to explain why one of our watchmen just came rushing over, insisting I come out here quick, before they kill each other? Hei, please stop—”

  Ahn’s heart dropped. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go.

  Hei barked something in Atengpa as Sohmeng coaxed Mama away from them.

  “Get him out? Hei, what are you talking about? What happened?” She looked at Ahn, bewilderment in her eyes. Even with the trouble between him and Hei early on, it had never looked anything like this. “What did you do?”

  Before Ahn could defend himself, Hei was speaking rapidly in Atengpa, pointing their clawed knuckle at Ahn in accusation. It was unbelievably frustrating to be left out of the conversation.

  Sohmeng, at least, was reasonable. She put her hands on Hei’s shoulders and pressed cheeks with them, trying to calm them down. It worked, and soon the only sounds around them were her voice murmuring Atengpa and the curious chirps of the sãoni who had gathered to watch the scene, like it was some schoolyard gr
udge match.

  Mama nudged him with her tail, and much to Ahn’s surprise, it made him feel a little less alone.

  “Okay,” Sohmeng said in Dulpongpa, stroking Hei’s hair. “So I caught about half of that. What were you doing with the hatchlings?”

  “It—it was supposed to be a surprise,” Ahn said.

  “Well I certainly am surprised,” she said flatly. “Now, details please?”

  Ahn’s voice crumpled in his throat. It was like being young again, caught by his Discernment master without any answers. He swallowed, trying to calm himself, to speak in that self-assured way that had gotten him through his brief foray into adult court life. “You said the Grand Ones might feel safer if they knew we had a strong handle on the sãoni. So I was—I was trying to teach them some tricks, some training...” He pushed his hair from his eyes, feeling foolish. “Could I show you? It’s easier if you see.”

  After a tense exchange with Hei, Sohmeng agreed.

  Ahn whistled the hatchlings over, waving his palm at them. Peeping excitably, they climbed over Mama and settled at his feet. Ahn squared his shoulders, raised his hand.

  “Up,” he said, and the little creatures rose up without hesitation. Despite the hours he had put into this, it looked so much less impressive now. Hardly worth the trouble it had caused, trouble he could still barely comprehend. “At rest.” Down the trio dropped, chirping at each other happily.

  Don’t you see? Ahn wanted to ask Hei. It’s harmless.

  Instead, he turned his attention to Sohmeng, who did in fact look surprised for a moment before she covered her face and groaned.

  “Ahn,” she said, voice strained. “You should have told me. Or asked, or something.”

  Ahn’s shoulders dropped. “I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

  “No,” Sohmeng muttered, rubbing her temples. “No, of course not. You wouldn’t understand—”

  Whatever else she was going to say was drowned out by Hei, who had returned to their stream of hostile Atengpa. Ahn wished they would switch over to Dulpongpa; maybe it wasn’t their first language, or even their preferred one, but it was the one they shared. Ahn had been forcing it into his head with such intensity that he’d gone to bed with a headache nearly every night since he’d shown up. But they insisted on locking him out of the conversation.

  He was getting ready to walk himself straight back to the pygmy hogs when Sohmeng suddenly made a sãoni noise loud enough to make him jump. Hei tried to counter it with a hiss of their own, but Sohmeng stood her ground.

  “I want him out,” Hei said, this time in pointed Dulpongpa. “Not with sãoni. No Ahn with sãoni, no more humans with sãoni. I say before Sohmeng, I say again now—no more humans!”

  “Hei, this is not helping!” Sohmeng responded. “He didn’t mean—”

  “OUT.”

  “FINE.” Sohmeng pointed at Ahn with a frustrated shout. “You—come with me. We’re going inside.” She said something else to Hei in Atengpa that earned her a glare, but ended their yelling. She grabbed his hand in hers and tugged him through the banyan maze, where a scout was waiting to accompany them.

  The bustle of Nona Fahang should have drowned out the fight, especially seeing as everyone was preparing for the Chisong moon festival, but Ahn couldn’t shake the feeling that people were staring at him. He felt hyperconscious of his disheveled appearance, the dirt smeared on his clothes and the hair come loose from his braid. A scout had come for Sohmeng—what had they told the others? Did everyone think this was his fault now, too?

  Ahn had just wanted to help. To show that he wasn’t dangerous—no, that he was an ally! The thought that his ridiculous plan might have just ruined both of their chances of ever getting home made him feel sick.

  “Come here,” snapped Sohmeng.

  Ahn blinked, and realized she had brought him to her father’s home, where Ahn usually came to use the shower. Ahn swallowed the knot in his throat, trying to ask if this was a good idea, but Sohmeng dragged him inside.

  “Dad!” she said in Dulpongpa, nearly sending Tonão Sol to the floor in surprise.

  “Sohmeng?” The man looked between the two of them with confusion. “Is everything—”

  “Ahnschen is staying with us.”

  Ahn blanched. That didn’t sound like a request. “Sohmeng,” he said in an undertone, “that isn’t necessary—”

  “Shut up, Ahn,” Sohmeng replied.

  Ahn shut up.

  “Sohmeng,” Tonão said cautiously, looking at Ahn. “I’m not sure what’s happened, but perhaps we should talk about this.”

  “You want to talk?” Sohmeng asked. “Fine. This is Ahnschen whatever-the-phase, eleventh prince of Qiao Sidh. Please, call him Ahn. Now, you might know him as the incredibly toned prisoner who sometimes uses your shower after he’s gotten covered in crap, or guts, or whatever other horrible thing he stumbles into. He’s good at a million things, but right now everyone’s real caught up on how well he swings a sword. Ahn and I have both had a difficult day, and having him stay with my impossibly stubborn partner is not an option right now. So I am asking you, as your daughter, to please let him stay here before I scream so loudly that I bring down the moons.”

  Tonão and Ahn shared a brief look, the kind of camaraderie that can only exist between two people who are deeply afraid of a third.

  “Of course, Sohmeng,” the man said after a moment. “I’ll—I’ll go talk to Jaea and Pim.”

  “Thank you.”

  Things got a little bit surreal after that. After some more arguing from across the privacy flap, Tonão returned with a hammock for Ahn to hang outside. He took it gratefully, but kept his talking to a minimum, not wanting to disturb Sohmeng, who had not finished seething in her own hammock. Later, Tonão briefly introduced him to the women of the house. One of them, Jaea Won, came in with a baby on one hip and a new set of clothes for him under her arm. Without a shared language, all she could offer him was a pat on the arm, but he appreciated it.

  The other woman, Pimchuang Ker, was not so welcoming. When she dropped off two bowls of leafy salad, she avoided Ahn’s gaze. Apparently her ease with him was reserved for outside of the home. He struggled not to taste her bitterness in the meal.

  Aside from offering Ahn some after-dinner lemongrass to chew, Tonão stayed out of their way. Eventually, Sohmeng broke the silence.

  “Come with me to the Chisong festival tomorrow.”

  Ahn looked up from the empty bowl he had been scratching at with his fork. “Sorry?”

  “The Chisong festival,” Sohmeng repeated, swinging in her hammock. Ahn hadn’t yet moved outside to his own, not wanting to be by himself. “It’s one of the lunar phases, double full moon. We’re not supposed to rank the phases in terms of importance, but we totally do, and Chisong is a big deal. Kids born under it are basically guaranteed rank, just like ones born under Minhal are booted for being its opposite.” Tension sang in the quiet that followed. “Well. In Ateng they are, anyway.”

  Ahn had heard a little about Sohmeng’s experience with the phases, and knew she had recently changed her own to Minhal. But he hadn’t been given much insight into how she felt about it. In general, she didn’t seem overly inclined to share feelings.

  “You’ve been setting it up for the past few days. You might as well come in and enjoy the food. Dance a little. I don’t know.” She rubbed her face. “The whole thing seems a little show-offy to me, but whatever.”

  “I see,” Ahn said carefully. He straightened up, trying to get a better look at her in the hammock. “I appreciate the, the explanation, but...”

  “But what?”

  “Is it really a good idea for me to go?” Kind though the invitation was, the image of him celebrating with the village currently deliberating on his death sentence felt a little gauche.

  “What?” Sohmeng sat up. “It’s a great idea! You’re never supposed to be left alone, and getting stuck with me definitely keeps that from happening. Plus it lets your r
egular guards relax during the festival, which might make them look on you more favourably. I’m sure Lita Soon will be crushed, but he can find someone else to antagonize for a night.”

  Ahn laughed a little at that, but his doubts remained. “What about everyone else?” he asked. “I’ve done what I can to give back to the community, but they all mostly think I’m just...”

  “A dirty, no good tsongkar?” Sohmeng rolled her eyes. “They can get over it.”

  It would have been easy to take Sohmeng’s apparent forgiveness and hold it above everyone else’s wariness. But much as he liked her, she didn’t have the final word on how others were supposed to feel. “I don’t know, Sohmeng. It seems a little... insensitive?”

  “What, so you just hide away forever? They already know you’re here, Ahn! They won’t like you either way so you might as well—” She sighed loudly, struggling for a moment to find her words. “Look, do you want this war campaign to continue?”

  “No.” The word came out so abruptly, with such vehemence, that he surprised himself. Even still, he stood by it. “I don’t. If—when, when I get back to my sister, I’ll do everything I can to make her stop.” That wasn’t good enough. He swallowed, tried again. “I will make her stop. And when I return to Qiao Sidh, I will talk to my parents and be sure this never happens again.”

  “Good,” Sohmeng said firmly. “You want peace, so show Nona Fahang peace. No one said you couldn’t go, so you might as well take the opportunity, Ahnschen. You’ve already cleaned up their garbage and not murdered them all in their sleep, so smiling at a party should be no problem.”