Somehow the term placement-anew reminded her of what she’d said to her father that had made him glance so furtively towards the things he’d hidden. “I’ve never felt I belonged anywhere,” was what she’d said. “As though I’m not meant to be here,” had been what she’d really meant.
She was now sure she’d unwittingly seen an answer to her question in his glance, that she now had that answer on her desk, but locked away in its obscure language. Part of it clearly touched upon Leiyatel, for Stella knew her other name to be the Certain-Power. And after all, that power controlled all Dicans through their wefts and weaves, and hers being so unlike anyone else’s, there had to be a clue of some sort there.
When, early one afternoon, Jaker unexpectedly turned up at the door with a message from Mirabel, she’d been working so closely on the text she had problems reading the piece of paper he handed her. She invited him in for a brew but he said he needed to press on before it got dark.
“Has thee any reply, missus?”
“Hmm?” Stella mumbled, having only just got beyond Mirabel’s salutation.
“It’s just that tha’s a bit out o’ m’ way up ‘ere. I’d prefer not to ‘ave to call in on m’ return trip tha see.”
Stella grinned at the old man. “I must thank you, Jaker, for making the effort, and I won’t delay you. There’s no need for a written reply, it’s simple enough to remember. Just say I’d love to see her on the date she suggests,” and at that he tipped his hat, smiled and hurried back to his waggon.
She waved him off, closed the door and leant back against it, clutching Mirabel’s note to her chest.
“A week,” she breathed, then frowned at a thought. “I’d really hoped to have had something more to tell her but I don’t see me making much more headway with that damned text. It’s all gobbledygook to me.”
She couldn’t ask her father for help, although she was certain he’d still remember the box, its papers and hence the old language. She could think of no way of broaching it, not without giving away that she’d found them. That only left his mention of Prescinda, but her aunt certainly wouldn’t remember anything, not as things stood.
An idea resurfaced, the one she’d had at Mirabel’s leaving, the one that had needed more thought. Well, it no longer did. Now she knew exactly with whom it might work.
“There’s nothing for it,” she told the empty house. “I’m just going to have to give it a try, although I’ve no idea how I’ll convince Aunt Prescinda to go with me.” She breathed in deeply, wondering if she’d be fit enough herself before the week was out to go all that way back to the Star Tower.
Sometime later that afternoon, the gable door slammed shut and Stella heard boots hurriedly stomp down the passageway. She quickly tidied her desk and slipped everything into the metal box, soon hidden again beneath the floorboard. She blinked at her blurred bedroom door as she drew near and cracked it open.
Dark mutterings drifted up from the kitchen, the rapid clatter of brewing utensils suggesting impatience. A small collection of swear words identified Prescinda.
“Whatever’s the matter?” Stella said as she hurried into the kitchen. For once, Prescinda’s eyes looked crystal clear and even sharper.
“Tabatha bleeding Ditchwater, that’s what,” and she growled as she slammed the tea caddy lid back on.
“Tabatha? Ditchwater? Oh, you mean the old man’s...”
“The nerve of the woman,” and Prescinda froze for a moment, teapot in hand, and stared at Stella. “Do you know what that woman said?”
“I’ve no...”
“As much as accused me of grave robbing. I ask you. I could’ve thumped her. How I didn’t I’ll never know.”
“The old man’s dead?”
“What? Oh, no ... well, inheritance robber or whatever. You know what I mean. The woman’s hardly darkened his door ‘til now, and all of a sudden, she’s the devoted daughter, prepared to nurse him through his final days, and then...” Prescinda clamped her mouth shut and searched Stella’s face. “I’m sorry, petal, I didn’t mean to...”
“It’s alright, Aunty. It’s obviously upset you. Look, you sit down and I’ll do the tea.”
“But...”
“And calm yourself. It’s so unlike you.”
Stella busied herself brewing, but when her aunt tried to speak again, she headed her off. “I never knew he had a daughter.”
“Err ... no, neither did I, Stella, not until he started asking after her, often thinking I was her these past few days. Maybe that’s what’s made it worse. Bloody typical, though, now he’s less of a bother she deigns to turn up.”
“Well, here’s your tea. Nice and strong. You’ll feel better for it.”
Stella sat with her and they drank in silence for a while, Prescinda’s tension noticeably easing as Stella’s grew. Without realising, she’d narrowed her eyes at her aunt which drew her to ask, “Nothing bothering you is there, Stella?”
“Hmm?” and an increasingly familiar feeling crept over her – guilt. “I was just wondering, that’s all. Does ... does this mean you’ll be going over less often?”
Her aunt scowled. “She as much as said I needn’t bother anymore.”
“Well, that’s not very fair,” but Stella’s hopes lifted a touch. She leaned across the table, nearer her aunt. “You’ve spent a lot of time over their recently, so I reckon you could do with a change of scenery.”
“Scenery?”
“I’ve still some stuff at the Star Tower I could do with picking up, seeing I’m not likely to be working there again.” She made sure her smile reached her eyes when she said, “I’d really appreciate your help carrying it back ... and I could even show you the view from the top.”
“From the top of the... When were you thinking?”
“How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Are you sure you’re up to it? I thought you were talking about in a week-or-so’s time.”
“It’s only eight miles, and the walk will do us...”
“Sixteen there and back.”
“If we set off early, it’d be a pleasant day’s stroll. What do you say, eh? We could both do with some fresh air.”
Prescinda stared blankly at her for an agonising few seconds, until her face broke into a grin and she nodded. “Maybe you’re right, petal. I’d like that, but only if you’re sure you’re up to it.” A smile slowly filled her face. “I can’t remember ever going near the Star Tower, so that would be a first. Yes, perhaps it would do us both a world of good.”
18 The Eternal Lure of Secrets
Dark grey mizzle rewarded their early morning start. It made the steps and loose earth stretches of the path up from Blisteraising, past Down Barrow field, somewhat treacherous. Stella felt a bit daunted, no longer sure she’d have the strength for what looked like being a wet journey. On the other hand, Prescinda almost glowed at the prospect, seemingly keen to work off some of the previous day’s frustration.
Although the lower Cambray Road would have been easier going, Stella had wanted to get at least some of the climb out of the way as soon as possible, when at her fittest. It had seemed a wise choice for she was hardly out of breath when they came out onto the gentle rise of the old lane, high above the farm.
Stella felt more confident as she stepped out towards the distant view of the upper few hundred feet of the Star Tower, now glistening above the shadowy rise of Mount Esnadac to the east. In the better light – the sun having broken through cloud on the coattails of the mizzle – Stella noticed her aunt’s eyes once more had their usual dull sheen.
Stella had always been fond of her Aunt Prescinda. There seemed to be something in her nature that somehow chimed with Stella’s own, although it never fully seemed to come to the fore.
By mid-morning, they’d got to the longer climb beside the wall of the Outer Courts. Stella felt better than she thought she would, but still had to rest at times, Prescinda occasionally making her sit on a wall or the grass verge until she g
ot her breath back.
“I’ll be fine, Aunty. It’s just that sometimes it seems to catch up with me and I go a bit dizzy.” For the remaining climb, Prescinda shifted her bag to her other shoulder and linked arms with Stella.
Only when they came through the gateway to the Upper Reaches, and onto the level avenue that led straight to the Star Tower, did Stella realise her aunt had fallen silent. Prescinda had let slip Stella’s arm and now stared, slack-mouthed, at the entirety of the tower’s needle-thin rise. Her eyes again revealed a hint of their previous glint.
“So,” Stella casually ventured, “this is your first time so close to the Star Tower?” Prescinda didn’t answer. “I tend to forget its impact until I see it in someone else’s eyes,” but she narrowed her own at Prescinda’s, now straining to see the tower’s high, crystal-domed pinnacle.
Prescinda slowed, almost stopped, but then shook her head and smiled as she once more stepped out. “It’s certainly ... yes, it’s certainly a wonder, a wonder and a half,” but then she whispered, “But it’s so thin. How on earth does it stay up?”
“Ah, well, that’s actually one of its many secrets,” and Stella couldn’t help but grin.
“Secrets?”
“I’d say it’s one of Dica’s wonders, Aunty, not that anyone ever sees it.”
“Sees what?”
Stella slipped her arm through Prescinda’s and squeezed, a spring entering her step. “I tell you what, seeing it’s still well before midday, how about I show you? I wouldn’t mind seeing it myself. It’ll be well worth the effort.”
“Effort? Now I don’t want you tiring yourself,” but it didn’t take much to convince her, which surprised but also encouraged Stella.
Although Prescinda marvelled as they drew near the tower – at the way its inky black base seemed to pulse and undulate with myriad stars – surprisingly, it didn’t distract her enough to slow them. They soon came into a small alcove to one side where Stella reached up in the darkness and clicked a catch on the back wall. A door dimly swung open.
Soon through, and the door quietly closed behind them, Stella led Prescinda along a dark corridor and out into a small but lofty chamber, as grey as though washed by a winter’s dawn.
Again, when the platform she led them onto immediately began rolling forward, it surprised Stella that Prescinda didn’t so much as bat an eye. She even turned to face the right way as they swung back on themselves, through the platform’s lower and darker arc.
Prescinda did, though, comment on the swirling, star-filled wall now filling what looked like the entrance to a tunnel before them. “Just a mirage, like you see sometimes from the Scarra Face,” she said, absently, and the glint returned to her eyes, even in the dim light.
“It’s how we get to the top of the tower,” Stella told her, drawing no reaction. “But first, let’s take a peek at what keeps the tower standing so straight and solid, eh?” and Prescinda nodded as Stella took her hand. “Here we are,” and they now stood before an inconspicuous door in the tunnel wall, to one side of the swirling stars. Stella gently pushed it open.
Within, a faint, luminous blue light seemed to seep from the smooth walls and steeply sloping ceiling of a stairwell, the narrow descent gently curving away. Stella squeezed Prescinda’s hand. “I believe it’s quite a way down, Aunty, so it might take us a while.”
Prescinda appeared to snap back from wherever her thoughts had taken her. “It’s all very intriguing, Stella,” but then she cocked her head as she adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “What’s that noise?”
Stella turned an ear to the stairwell. “Ah, I’ve not noticed that before, but now you mention it ... I think it’s made by what we’re going down to see.”
“The thing that allows you the accuracy to make your stars, Stella?”
“That’s right, Aunty, but how...” then Stella thought better of it. “Come on. We’ve a way to go, so we can’t afford to dally,” and she stepped through the doorway, leading her aunt steeply down into the depths of Mount Esnadac.
The steps were quite steep but as sharp as the day they’d been made, an easy descent although seemingly unending. The tedium proved the hardest to endure, although for Stella the thought of their eventual climb back loomed even larger. Only their footfall accompanied them, echoing around the curve falling ahead and rising behind.
At one point, after what felt like an hour but could have been minutes, only Stella’s steps slapped the air and she stopped and looked back. Prescinda stood, stock-still, staring into space. Stella climbed back the few steps.
“There’s nothing wrong is there, Aunt Prescinda?”
“Hmm?” and her aunt seemed to have problems seeing her. “I ... I just...”
“Do you want to sit down for a minute?”
Prescinda blinked and slanted her head, as though avoiding an insect, then grabbed Stella by the hand. “I remember a sunset.”
“A sunset?”
“A beautiful sunset.”
“Well, we do see quite a few from Blisteraising. In fact, the other evening...”
“No. Not from Blisteraising,” and she sat down heavily on the step, looking somewhat lost. “Over ... water.”
Stella narrowed her eyes. “What water, Aunty?”
“I don’t ... don’t know, but there were ... there were boats, lots of them.”
“What? Like on Lake Dica you mean?”
Her aunt didn’t answer, but her frown grew deeper, then she seemed to snap out of it and lamely smiled.
“Where was it you saw this sunset from?” Stella gently asked.
“Sunset?”
“But...”
“What am I doing? I’m holding us up. Come on,” and Prescinda jumped to her feet, “lead on, young Stella. We haven’t got all day,” then almost pushed Stella before her.
They continued down, the only change a gentle waft of warmth from below that steadily grew hotter until beads of sweat trickled from Stella’s brow. She took to wiping them away, surreptitiously sneaking a check on her aunt. Prescinda’s eyes each time seemed yet brighter still, further raising Stella’s hopes.
After what seemed another age, Stella finally caught sight of the end of the steps. “At last.” As they drew nearer, she could see more of a smooth floor opening out to one side, brightly lit by a whiter shade of blue light. She remembered just in time and stopped a few steps from the bottom.
“Before we go in,” she told Prescinda, “I need to warn you of something very, very important.” She looked deep into her aunt’s eyes, relieved to find them ever sharper and more astute. Prescinda nodded.
“When we get in there, whatever you do, you must not touch the ceiling ... in any way whatsoever, not even with a fingernail,” and she stared hard at Prescinda until she frowned and nodded again.
“But why, Stella?”
“I’ll explain when we’re safely in. But remember, Aunty, whatever you do, don’t touch the ceiling. I couldn’t live with myself if you did,” and Prescinda nodded one last time.
19 Mortar and Pestle
Stella stared into a circular chamber, dimly aware of her loose hair fluttering across her face and her aunt by her side. What she saw bore no resemblance to what she’d imagined.
Maybe fifty feet across, the supposedly lethal ceiling drooped into it like some great gobbet of long-melted metal. It looked for all the world like the working face of the pestle she used to grind spices, but darker, far more massive, and hanging only two or three feet above the centre of the chamber’s unsullied mortar.
The face of the pestle progressively curved up more steeply, out towards the wall where the two didn’t quite meet, as Stella saw when she craned her neck back and stared up. A black gap, maybe a foot wide and some fifty feet above, hinted that one indeed did not hold the other aloft.
The stillness surprised Stella the most, eerily still and almost silent – almost. A thin whistle tightened the slip of air sweeping past her face, as though distant ghosts chased their
own shrill paths beyond the grinning black gap above.
Stella shivered, but Prescinda drew a breath. “Grayden,” she blurted out, startling Stella. “Oh, by Leiyatel, it was Grayden harbour,” and Stella turned to her aunt’s wide eyes.
“Grayden?”
“The sunset, Stella, that beautiful sunset,” and a sharp grey edge haunted her aunt’s now glittering eyes. “I saw it across the harbour at Grayden. I can see it now: the pastel pale masts suddenly picked out in bright reds and ambers, stark against the coal-black shadows of its harbour wall.”
Prescinda stepped into the chamber but Stella grabbed her. “Aunty? Look, sit down here, against the wall, before you get hurt,” but it took some persuasion before she would.
“Why can I remember it now?” Prescinda pleaded as Stella sat close beside her. “That and so much more fast crowding in on me.”
“Do you remember anything about me, Aunty? Anything from when I was young, or before.”
Prescinda’s eyes darkened and she lifted them, to stare across the chamber. “Why am I remembering all these things now, Stella? Why now?”
The sadness in Prescinda’s eyes caught Stella unawares, and she looked up at the sagging ceiling. “It was when Mirabel was leaving to go back home,” Stella said. “For some reason I remembered a warning given to my class during our training to be starmakers. Only a passing comment, but somehow it stuck.” Why was that? she wondered. “We were told never to come down here.”
“But you’ve brought me?”
“They said it was the only place in Dica where we wouldn’t have Leiyatel’s protection, and given the danger it posed, well, the risk was just too great.”
“Risk? What risk?” and Prescinda darted her eyes about the chamber.
Stella drew breath. “That ceiling isn’t a ceiling at all.” She swallowed. “It’s the very bottom of the lowest link of a huge chain, stretching nearly two thousand feet to the top of the tower.”
Prescinda frowned. “A chain? It doesn’t look like one.”
“It’s spinning, Aunty, spinning so unbelievably fast it looks solid. That’s why we mustn’t touch it. It could grind your arm to a stump in the blink of an eye.”
Starmaker Stella (Dica Series Book 6) Page 8
