Above the Star

by Alexis Marie Chute

  “Which is true,” Zeno pipes up.

  “My research had never pointed to that fact. What I had learned was that the Bangols are selfish and manipulative.”

  “Also, true,” grins Zeno.

  “I didn’t believe what Zeno told me and, so I stole the Tillastrion,” Ardenal continues. “From what I had heard and read about the Bangols, I wanted to get as far away from Zeno as possible. When I was tucked down an unlit side alley of the market, I tried to activate the magic, but nothing happened. That’s when Winzun arrived. He crept up behind me. I actually thought it was Zeno at first, hellbent on vengeance.”

  Archie scrunches his nose. “Who is Winzun?”

  “My twin brother, Archibald,” Zeno answers. “He stole my chance to get home.”

  Ardenal nods. “With Winzun, the magic—Naiu—came to life, and the Tillastrion glowed.”

  “Winzun and I—the only blood heirs—were banished to your world by Tuggeron,” says Zeno. “When Arden arrived at Treasures, Winzun was not with me. I would have left him behind if Arden had not fled. I do not blame Winzun for doing the same to me. To be king was a dream we shared since the womb.”

  Ardenal continues, “Even before I met Zeno, and Winzun, my research in Seattle led me to believe that the Olearons were wicked and cruel. I read that they burned their way through Jarr-Wya to maintain dominion over it, but that was a lie. I had been searching around on my own here, on the island, lost because of the notebook I misplaced at home, wounded and starving. When I was about to step onto the Millia’s shore, Olen tackled me.”

  “He was good at that,” Archie says, remembering Olen take down Tessa and Ella on that same beach.

  “As my friendship with the Olearons grew, I hoped they would reveal to me the secrets of this place. They knew nothing, however, about Ella’s cure, but I kept searching and learning what I could. This is a dangerous place, Dad. I got into treacherous situations, with Bangols and other creatures, and the Olearons saved me—every time. I never did see a Steffanus, and of them the Olearons refuse to speak.” The hair on Archie’s arms prick upward at the mention of the women he had read about in the secret history of the Olearons. Steffanus. Archie shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, dropping his eyes from Ardenal’s gaze.

  “And for good reason,” barks Nameris, who fails to notice the old man’s sudden discomfort.

  Ardenal dismisses Nameris’ cantankerousness with a brush of his hand through the air, and continues, “One day, the Lord of Olearon called me to the glass citadel. He told me that he knew of a creature that would help me on my quest. The Lord told me that everyone has a distinctive gift, but only through magic can this power be brought forth. I asked him what my power was and how I could find this creature. It was then that I first learned of Rolace.

  “So, I went on a pilgrimage with Azkar and Nameris to find the great tree of Rolace. When we found him, I begged for his help to reveal my gift. He told me that I had a choice; told me that I could not save Ella as a man—I needed to become of this world—and I believed him. I felt too deeply entwined in my mission to stop, that I had been gone from home for too long. I was afraid to go back without Ella’s remedy. I was also afraid I would be too late even if I found it. I worried I would walk into our house and discover a place void of Ella’s paintings and sketchbooks and novels; empty of ticket stubs to horror movies and of photos on the wall taken by Ella with her phone; and vacant of her smile . . .

  “So, I surrendered myself to Rolace—Nameris, too—while Azkar stood guard. I soon discovered who—or what, I should say—I was to become.”

  “You are an Olearon now,” the Maiden confirms. “In blood, bone, and mind.”

  Nate and Kameelo, who had been talking in low voices, stop suddenly. After carrying the captain on his back, the Olearon has grown fond of the man, but now their merry discussion is cut off without warning. They stand still. “A web!” Nate whispers over his shoulder to the rest of the company, as he gently wakes Tessa. Not all in the company hear his warning and the humans collide, bumping into the fiery Olearons, who quickly extinguish their flames to prevent a burning, and all beings knock into and trip over each other in the dark until they are thoroughly stuck in the semi-translucent silk web.

  Ardenal is the first to speak. “We have found Rolace.”

  Already leaves are rustling overhead. “I would say Rolace has found us,” Zeno retorts, more timidly than usual. He curls his stubby legs up to his chest where he hangs, now silent, listening.

  “What do you have for me, Tessa?” Rolace’s voice rumbles.

  Tessa, who still sways under the spell of the Banji, looks to Nate and Kameelo, stuck in the maze of webbing beside her. They reach over and carefully unfasten the belt. Tessa’s arms fall, but she never loses her grasp on the flowers. Kameelo burns her free so she can walk. Tessa takes a disoriented step farther into the maze, which connects one glowing white tree to another. Without a guiding word from the nervous company, Tessa relies on the perceptions of Naiu to find the face that had revealed itself to her in the creek, and now again in the shadows of the forest. Rolace’s body is faintly illuminated by the Olearon’s glow. The human eyes and wrinkled cheeks, his chin and forehead, are fused to the hairy arthropod abdomen and cephalothorax, but instead of eight legs, he has twelve.

  “The Banji,” Tessa says and holds out the flowers. “Now can you help me find my gift?” she manages to say.

  Rolace tenderly collects the Banji and tucks them away in a pouch near his spinneret. “First, I’m hungry. Which of your friends do you care for the least?”

  Tessa immediately grows more lucid under the stark absence of the enchantment. She retorts, “That was not part of our deal!”

  “It was not not part of our deal, either,” Rolace quips, and smiles craftily. “But have it as you wish,” he sighs. “A flock of cradle birds is due to arrive in these parts tomorrow. I will fast until then. Now, shall we begin?”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Oh, Tessa. I see your fear, but it is as I told you. If your will is strong and your heart is brave, you shall have no troubles with me.”

  “And if I am weak?”

  “Weak, or wicked, then I may indeed taste warm flesh before the cradle birds turn up on their migration.” He smirks. “I have helped many races of people. Even your own Ardenal, here. He came to me looking for a cure. I presume he never found it. Interesting. Nevertheless, I gave him the means. Now for you, Tessa, I do not know what your transformation will entail, but I will do my part and you must do yours. Do we agree?”

  “Yes.” Tessa nods passionately. “But first, cut loose my friends.” She points to the others, stuck along different parts of the maze.

  “Really, is there any harm in letting them hang around?” Rolace smiles. “I can deal with them later, if you wish.”

  A low sizzling startles the man-spider, who discovers that the Olearons are burning themselves free of the web and doing the same for Zeno and the humans. “Stop! I’ll free you myself!” Rolace hisses, rushing over on his swift, harry legs. “I have worked too long to have this artistry burned with such heartless disregard.”

  The deed done, the company freed, Rolace turns back to Tessa. “So, now that we are all friends . . . Tessa, I will bind you in a cocoon of silk. My web is rich with Naiu, and there is also power from the spirit of this forest, the lingering magic of the long-departed sprites.” Rolace gestures with a leg to the trees mostly concealed in blackness beyond the orange light of the Olearons’ flames.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Donna asks Tessa with motherly concern.

  Tessa nods, squeezes Donna’s hand. “So, you wrap me in a cocoon. Then what, Rolace?”

  “Then the web will squeeze you until you have no breath left. It will creep into your mouth and nose and find its way through your veins to your heart. You must stay very still during this part or you may scare away the magic. It is mighty in this form, though timid. Whatever power is
buried within you, Tessa, will emerge when you surrender. The web will search through your mind, behind your eyes, right down to the root of your toenails—and you must resist every inclination to fight. When the pain reaches the point where death is near, then that is the moment you must call life back to yourself. Bite. Fight to escape your smooth coffin. Once you stand before me again, your transformation will be complete.”

  “What if I die?” Tessa asks slowly.

  “Then you die,” Rolace replies. “And I eat.”

  “That will never happen, not on my watch,” Nate growls, retrieving his knife from his boot. He flips it open.

  Tessa thanks Nate through her gaze, but turns to Ardenal instead. “You did this,” she begins. “Do you believe I can as well?”

  “I know you can, Tess. You are strong and your love for Ella even stronger. It will not be easy, but never give up. You must fight.” Ardenal leans in close to kiss Tessa and Rolace looks away, impatient. Nate purses his lips and grunts. Ardenal pecks her cheek, lingers, and whispers so that even Tessa strains to hear, “If you cannot break free, scream my name and I will burn you out.”

  Tessa faces Rolace, sighs, and says, “I’m ready.”

  “Finally!” Rolace groans. “But I would not be a good host if I did not also offer a cocoon to my other friends as well.”

  After a moment of silence, with the company frozen in contemplation, Kameelo steps forward boldly. “I wish for this as well.”

  Rolace’s legs twitch with excitement. “Oh, wonderful! Anyone else?”

  “We will,” Donna and Harry say together.

  Tessa turns to the elderly couple and worries aloud, “I can battle my way out, but you two—”

  “Don’t underestimate us, darling,” Donna replies. “We may be old, but we’re feisty.”

  “On one condition,” Harry adds to Rolace. “We be bound in one cocoon, together.”

  “Strange,” remarks Rolace. “I have never heard this request before today. I cannot promise the result. Why would you wish such a thing?”

  “If we live, we live together. If we die, we do not face it alone. This—” Harry gestures around himself, to the land and those who stand at his side. “This has been the greatest adventure of our lives. We would not have it continue, or end, in any other way.”

  “Me too!” says a tiny voice.

  Every member of the company turns to Duggie-Sky.

  “No! No way, little fella.” Archie shakes his head.

  “You are the child’s guardian, not his master,” the Maiden corrects. “A brave spirit, despite its age, should never be underestimated.”

  “I couldn’t live with myself. No. What kind of person would that make me? No. Never,” Archie whimpers and continues to shake his head, though more uncontrollably.

  “This is not your world, Archibald,” continues the Maiden. “The child is strong—and we may need his strength in the days to come.”

  “Aha! Now I get it,” Archie snarls, stepping between Duggie-Sky and the Maiden. “You want to use the boy as a weapon! Sorry, lady, but you’re way off base if you think I’ll—” A tiny hand taps Archie’s leg.

  “Grandpa Archie, I listened. I understand how scary it’ll be. Right now, I’m a hero with no powers.” The boy points to his T-shirt and the cartoon superhero riding the Douglas Skywarrior. “Please, I want to so badly.”

  “Listen to the child, Archibald,” the Maiden urges.

  Archie wipes away his emotion on his jacket sleeve and bends low, hugging Duggie-Sky tightly. They walk hand in hand toward the spider, where Archie allows the child’s fingers to slip out of his wrinkled palm.

  “The sunrise will be here soon enough. Line up before we waste the night,” orders Rolace. Tessa, Kameelo, Donna, Harry, and Duggie-Sky face the enormous creature, who cackles through a mischievous grin. “See you all soon,” he says, “in one form or another!”

  Shiny threads of silk explode upward from Rolace’s backside. The threads first anchor in the trees, then fly at the line of waiting humans and Olearon to weave around their ankles. They are yanked sharply into the air, where they dangle upside down. Donna and Duggie-Sky cry out. Rolace regards them with hungry eyes—first with two human irises, before the pupils steal any color that surrounds them, and divide into four protruding spheres. Arthropod palpi emerge through the unnaturally stretched human mouth.

  Archie looks on in dismay. “What have we done?”

  Chapter 38

  Rolace climbs the first fine string attached to Harry and Donna’s ankles. Tessa marvels that the nearly invisible thread can support his weight, but Rolace ascends effortlessly and the web barely flexes as he scurries across it. As silk spews from his spinneret, Rolace’s many legs sew rapidly, feverishly spinning the couple. Harry clenches his eyes shut. The cocoon covers their feet and shins, then their knees and thighs, then their arms and torsos. The sticky silk fully envelops Donna and Harry and binds them together, cheek to cheek. Their cocoon sways in and out of the small pockets of moonlight that leak through the canopy. When Rolace is finished, only a few strands of Donna’s white hair hang limply out of the glossy covering. They make no sound. The cocoon does, however, wriggle around, bending and arching. Every so often, the shape of two bodies is recognizable.

  Rolace darts across the treetops, rustling flora and cracking twigs. Small leaves waft to the earth below. The man-spider drops down to spin and weave Kameelo’s cocoon. Kameelo gives a quick smile to those below before the web covers his face. There is a weak hiss and a puff of smoke as the web quenches his flame.

  Rolace cocoons Duggie-Sky in the same fashion—who looks tiny once obscured by the silk—before he approaches Tessa.

  “Ready?” Rolace hisses, though he proceeds without waiting for her answer.

  The web around her ankles wraps itself up her legs. Her feet tingle with a sensation between pain and fatigue. She covers her heart with her hands in time for the silver string to bind them there. Seconds later, her body is covered from her neck to her toes. In the instant before the webbing encases Tessa’s ears, she hears Ardenal’s voice call up to her, “I love you.”

  Tessa can sense the places on her back and head and feet where Rolace secures the cocoon—and the jab of pain at her scars where her crooked spine was snapped back into place as a child—before a swinging sensation catches her by surprise. She sees light all around her, where she had expected the darkness of confinement. The light is silver and painfully bright. Her eyes struggle to focus. In one instant, the light appears as far and expansive as a wide-open sky, then, in a matter of an instant, it feels as dim and close as a gray wall at the tip of her nose. Tessa’s eyelashes stroke the web with every blink. Her breath bounces back into her mouth but carries with it a vulgar taste of moldy leaves.

  The silver webbing starts to glow, defines itself with shadows, and slowly crawls on Tessa’s skin. She takes a deep breath and tries to ready herself for what’s to come. If I turn into an Olearon, like Arden, will Ella still recognize me? she wonders. Tessa thinks about Archie. He knew the Olearon was Arden almost immediately.

  The web pries Tessa’s lips wide and fills her mouth. She coughs and chokes on it as it slides into every available space, then creeps down her throat. Tessa’s body shudders. Agony shoots through her as the web splinters into fine threads and traces the curves of her veins. She contorts back and forth as tears muddy the brilliance of the light.

  Tessa mumbles Ella’s name, although she cannot speak. Her jaw clicks and hangs loosely as more webbing inches in. I am going to survive this, she tells herself. I will find Ella. Arden will find her cure. We are going to be okay. I am going to be okay. My family will not leave me. Not like my parents . . . The thought interrupts the filling and the choking and the white.

  Tessa becomes aware of floating in an endless galaxy. Her arms and legs stretch wide. There are stars all around her—and islands. Jarr-Wya. It is the size of her palm. She touches it and it spins away in an unpredictable rotation. She
touches a star and it streaks through the expanse until it connects with another, which, like Newton’s Cradle, maintains the momentum for infinity. Feeling sleepy, she lies back, displacing more stars and islands as she drifts from nowhere to nothing.

  How heavenly! Would it be so bad to stay? she wonders. In this flawless peace, away from all desire, with no worries, no one to take care of . . .

  Take care of! The though jars her. I do have someone to take care of, Tessa remembers. Ella! I need to get out of here! Tessa’s thoughts race and she becomes aware of every bloated blood vessel in her body. Images flash before her eyes. Flames on sand. A sun in the sea. Ella. A child crying in a tree. Drowning in the clouds. Black. Silver. Hands around her neck. I can’t breathe! Large yellow eyes. The words: “Hurry up!” A stone fortress on the edge of the sea. Rock cliffs. Flowers on water. A clay bowl, oats and water, poured out over stone. A strangely familiar yet unfamiliar voice. Chains jingling. Red spinning planets and blue dripping blood. The Atlantic Odyssey, eaten by caterpillars. They slice through the steel bearing the lettering Constellations Cruise Line, which lodges like slivers in their thousands of mouths. They fly off and scatter the memory into every corner of the world.

  Tessa tries to scream for Arden, but no sound can escape her parched lips, gummed up as if with tree sap molted by the web as it evolves. How am I going to get out of here? She begins bashing at the emptiness and is relieved when her fingers dig deeply into something she cannot see. She claws it—and feels air fill her lungs, so she does not stop, even when her fingernails crack and her fingertips bleed.

  Suddenly, a familiar yet unfamiliar voice speaks as clear as Tessa’s own words in her head. The voice says, “Hi, Mom.”

  Chapter 39

  Ella?

  Yeah.

  Is this a dream?

  I think so.

  Are you okay?

  Okay enough.

  Where are you?

  Above the Star. Where are you?

  In a cocoon.