The Lost Star's Sea

by C. Litka

  01

  The trail ended at a weathered wood door set in a stone wall spanning a narrow canyon. We'd been following the trail up and down, around mossy boulders, under wind twisted pines, and through a drifting mist for two rounds that seemed like forever. We'd slept once around a smokey fire in a shallow, but dry, cave, and since then had been hiking long enough for our ponchos to have abandoned any pretense of keeping us dry. We knew that if we stopped, the dampness would chill us to the bone, so we hurried on and on at a pace that only the light gravity allowed. And on. The dragons - never happy with wet feathers - whined their displeasure whenever we caught up to them, but unless we found another cave with dry firewood, stopping was not an option. Not until we rounded a sharp bend in a dark, narrow canyon and came upon the door in the wall. Then it was the only option.

  We collected in a soggy clump before it.

  'There must be a bell somewhere,' I muttered, looking, but not seeing it.

  Naylea brushed me aside, and shoving the latch down, pushed the door open.

  We followed her into a dim room lit by several narrow slits in the opposite wall. And seeing how gloomy it was outside, they provided little light. As my eyes adjusted, I could see another door on the left wall - which did not have a latch. Naylea, however found the chain in the wall and pulled it several times. No sound reached us from the interior.

  We waited. The cross-bow slits opened to a moss-paved courtyard, which, given the weather, was predictably empty. The dragons growled their impatience, as we shook and stomped off the water droplets clinging to our ponchos and the packs until we were standing in a black puddle of water.

  'I hope someone's at home,' I said and thought, "who will not turn us away."

  Perhaps a minute passed before the door opened, letting in some grey light and revealing a white-sashed Laezan with a sheet of paper in her hand. She opened her mouth to greet us, but stopped and stared instead. The dragons cheerfully barked a greeting, as we cupped our hands and bowed a greeting.

  She absently returned our greeting, paper still in one hand and said, 'Welcome to The Hermitage,' before briefly glancing down on the paper in hand. She folded it, and slipped it into a pocket of her vest. 'You're not likely on my list. What brings you to The Hermitage?'

  'We're seeking a passage home. We were directed here by Tey Pot Wander,' I said, too damp and miserable to risk being turned away by saying anything more.

  She briefly considered her options, and then said. 'I think you need to talk to the chief. Follow me.'

  She led us along a roofed walkway, past the courtyard, to another stout door that opened into an entry hall with a cozy common room beyond. The room had the usual long tables for dining, and beyond them, chairs and sofas arrayed around a wide fireplace. Quiet conversations and the soft notes of a stringed instrument drifted from the cozy the room with the flickering light from the fireplace's dancing flames.

  The warmth of the fire instantly attracted the dragons, who, not standing on ceremony, eagerly bounded past the tables and the chairs to stand in front of the fireplace, fluffing their wet feathers.

  A startled silence descended as the Laezans suddenly found themselves staring at two dragons, who, with their feathers fluffed up, appeared to be twice their normal size. The dragons gave them a loud, cheery bark of greeting, which may not be the most reassuring sound if you're not familiar with Simla dragons. After staring at them in stunned silence for a moment, the inhabitants turned, as one, from them to the rest of us, standing in the entryway, our dripping packs and waterlogged clothes forming another pool at our feet.

  A large, fine-feathered, white-sashed Laezan rose to his feet and walked towards us with a quizzical smile. He bowed a greeting and a welcome, which we returned, and then stood and regarded us for a moment.

  'I'm afraid I'm a bit lost for words,' he began. 'These mountains attract few tourists so we rarely receive casual visitors, much less visiting dragons. Still, welcome to The Hermitage. I am Ty Malin, the fellow in charge of this little community.'

  I named my friends. '? and the dragons are Siss and Hissi. We're not exactly tourists. We met Tey Pot Wanderer on the road to Marsh Waters who suggested that we come here instead. He said in doing so we'd save the sages of Marsh Waters a great deal of bother and white feathers, and ourselves a hundred rounds or more of waiting.'

  He shook his head, and with a little grin, said, 'He did, did he? And did he say why?'

  'He just said that we'd end up here, eventually,' I replied. 'You see, we're from the Principalities of the Saraime. We were shipwrecked in the Cataria Islands. We've come here looking for a way back. Everyone's been discreet - Bowing Pine in the Catarias, Bright-eyed Sparrow at Orchard Hill, even Tey Pot - but finding two identical Laezan Orders suggests that this is possible. No one said so, yet no one disputed it either. They merely suggested we make our way to Marsh Waters until Tey Pot suggested we make our way here instead.'

  'You are indeed, far from home,' he mused, casually confirming Tey Pot's advice. 'How did you end up here, in these islands?

  ''Well, it's a long story?'

  'Make it a short story, Litang. I think we'd all like to get out of our wet clothes,' said Naylea with a sigh.

  'Yes, of course. Your story can wait,' said Malin apologetically. 'Why don't you join your companions by the fire and dry off, while I see to your rooms and perhaps a cold meal?'

  'We would be most grateful, brother,' said Naylea with a sweet smile.

  Malin ushered us to the fire. 'I'll let everyone introduce themselves while Caxton, CeCard, and I get things in hand for your stay.'

  We exchanged greetings with the others, and stood before the blaze under their curious gaze.

  'We're eager to hear your story,' said one of the seemingly older members. 'But I suppose we must wait until the others return. However, I heard you mention Bowing Pine. How is she, and her Ghost dragon, Long Tail Companion?'

  We told her of our meeting with Bowing Pine and exchanged some stories about Tey Pot, who they all knew, until Malin returned bearing a large tray loaded with bread, fruit and a warmed over vegetable rice dish. As we ate at one of the long tables, we told the story we had agreed to tell to the gathered Laezans. We stuck to the truth, though editing out our use of darters to spring Tey Pot and the Governor and keeping our connection with Trin vague while not mentioning Naylea and mine's beyond-the-shell origins. Encouragingly, they seemed to have no trouble believing us.

  Story told, questions answered, Malin, sitting across from us at the table, studied us with a mild smile for a while. He sighed. 'I'm going to have a few words with Tey Pot the next time we cross courses. It seems that Ol'Tey has handed you off to me to deal with, without consulting the Provincial Elders. I think that before I speak officially, I need to consult our records for guidance. Plus, it is past time for sleep, so can we postpone further discussions until after breakfast?'

  'Of course,' I said, echoed by my companions. The dragons - now dry and fed - barked their cheerful agreement. Sleep was now their priority.

  'Right then. Brothers and sisters, we're overdue for our pallets.'

  And with that, we rose, and were led to our small bare cells.