The Stargazers

by Allison M. Dickson

  She marveled over the idea of going up to the stars and actually touching them. People in Ellemire were unconcerned with such pursuits, instead reading messages into the patterns and constellations the stars made. “That’s a very big dream.” She gazed out her window to see people sweeping up broken glass and other debris. Several streets were blocked off by giant white vehicles with flashing orange lights on top. Most people were just standing around talking with their neighbors, all of them with similar expressions of dazed or wide-eyed shock.

  “What about you? What’s your big dream?”

  She wasn’t prepared for that question. As much as she complained that no one ever asked her what she wanted, she didn’t have an answer at the ready. “I don’t know. When I dream of what makes me happy, it’s usually something simple. I like horses. Or having the time to draw or garden to my heart’s content. I suppose I just want a quiet life, where no one knows who I am, where I’m free to roam where I want and with whomever I want and make the choices I want to make.”

  “I know what you mean. But at least you got part of your wish, right?” He stopped at a red light. “No one knows who you are around here. At least yet, with school being out for the summer. Or are you graduated? I never did ask.”

  “I am finished with school.” She hoped the vague answer was enough to satisfy him.

  “Me too. Well, high school anyway. I’ll be starting college this fall.” He put his arm up on the back of the seat and seemed to notice how close it was to Aster’s shoulders before putting it back down by his side.

  Aster smiled. “You can put your arm back up there if you want. It doesn’t bother me.”

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  She nodded, realizing she liked having it there. After driving a little further, he pulled onto a narrow roadway that ran uphill for a little ways before leveling out in small paved area surrounded by cut grass. A very large hill loomed ahead.

  Aster looked around. “What’s this place?”

  “This is Indian Hills Park, the pride of the Miller’s Glenn. C’mon, you’ll see.” He opened the door and stepped out of the car before ducking his head back in. “Sit tight. I’ll be right there.” Closing his door, he ran around the back of the car and opened Aster’s.

  She giggled as she stepped out. “It’s very sweet of you to open my door, but it isn’t necessary.”

  “I like doing it. My dad always told me that’s how you treat a lady.”

  Aster was unfamiliar with this custom, but she thought it was very charming. And helpful. The door handles in Bryon’s car were different than the ones in Ivy’s, and she hadn’t figured them out yet. “I’m sure your father would be proud.”

  “I hope you’re up for climbing some stairs,” he said. “You can see the whole town from up there.” He pointed to the large hill that she’d seen while they were driving in. It had a very long flight of steps scaling up the side of it, and Aster could see a fenced-in area at the very top. It looked tiny from down here.

  “What kind of hill is this?”

  “It’s actually not a hill. It’s a burial mound.”

  Aster gasped. While some tribes and families in Ellemire buried their dead, the thought of putting someone in a giant hill of dirt and then attaching stairs to it seemed wrong. She tried not to see it as an omen of death. Nanny Lily was all about her omens, and some of that had rubbed off onto Aster over the years. “Is it okay to walk on that, do you think?”

  “Sure, why not? I don’t think you’ll have to worry about any ghosts or anything. Actually, there’s a plaque near the stairs that says there isn’t even a body in it anymore. Maybe it got tired of being walked on and left.” He grinned.

  Aster looked up at it for a few seconds longer, taking Bryon’s words more seriously than he’d probably intended them. “I guess that’s okay then. Let’s go.”

  They mounted the stairs and began scaling them at a moderate pace. They were rough-hewn and shallow, with every twelfth one a miniature landing. Aster counted as she went. By the time they reached the top, they were winded and standing on number 116. She looked out past the little fence that surrounded them and her jaw dropped. “It’s so beautiful!”

  The view offered a full panorama of the town and its surrounding land. The buildings and houses of Miller’s Glenn lay nestled amid lush trees and lazy summer sunshine. A few plumes of smoke rose up from between the trees in some spots, indicating that the earthquake may have caused some fires, but otherwise the town looked still and tranquil from up here. Beyond the town, grain silos and little red barns dotted the landscape. The silvery ribbon of a wide river cut through the land to the east, which separated the town from a great forest beyond.

  She yearned right then for her sketchbook.

  Bryon sighed and wrapped his fingers around the bars of the fence like a prisoner pining for his eventual release. “Everything looks better from here. I come up a lot to look at the stars and think about my mom.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She died a few years back. Breast cancer. We cremated her and scattered her ashes at her hometown upstate, so she doesn’t have a grave here. But I had a star named after her.”

  “Really? You can do that?” Aster thought that was a lovely idea for a tribute.

  “It’s just one of those corny little things you can do on the internet for few bucks, but it’s hers. And I don’t need a telescope to see it. Just three degrees south of Cassiopeia.” He pointed upward and to the left. “Tonight she’ll rise over there.”

  “I couldn’t imagine losing my mother, but I think she would probably love something like that.”

  “The way you talk about your mom… sounds like you really miss her. What’s keeping you two from mending things?”

  “It’s a long story. I do miss her.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “I never met him. I suppose he’s out there somewhere.” Then something occurred to her that never had before. What if he was here in this very town? Would she recognize him if she saw him?

  “Dads can be pretty great, at least if they’re the kind to stick around.” He turned her to face him. “Maybe this doesn’t have to be such a sad place anymore. It can be ours now. I can share my mom’s star with you. You can use it to think of your mom. Or even your dad, if you want.”

  “I’d like that.” Hot tears sprang up, both at his kindness and her sudden homesickness, but she pushed them back.

  “I’ve never brought anybody up here with me before.”

  “Why did you bring me?”

  He shrugged. “There’s just something about you. I know, I don’t even know you, and this probably sounds like one of those sappy Disney movies. But when first I saw you, I just knew I had to get to know you. I can’t really explain it better than that… I hope that’s okay.”

  It was nearly word for word what Ruby had said to her earlier, and Aster’s heart split down the middle. She wanted to gift a half to each of them just to save her the duty of trying to choose between the two. But maybe she wouldn’t have to choose. Perhaps an alternative would present itself and everyone would win in the end. The idea seemed impossible, but the little ember of desperate hope was comforting to her.

  She liked Bryon. His gentle nature and his intellect appealed to her, but she loved the simple honesty in his eyes, and the way his hair curled around his ears. She resisted the urge to touch it with one curious finger.

  “I think that would be nice. To come up here with you from time to time,” she said.

  He took another step toward her. “Your eyes. I’ve never seen eyes that color before. They’re…”

  “Weird?”

  “Yes. But weird-beautiful. Like some exotic nebula.” He brushed away a lock of her hair and something stirred deep within her, not unlike when Ruby had kissed her. She suddenly felt awash in guilt, though she knew she shouldn’t. This was why she was sent here: to bond with a boy of this world and conceive a child. But she couldn’t get past the f
eeling that she was betraying Ruby.

  Even so, she reached up and pulled the hat from his head. A mop of dark gold curls spilled forth, and she ran one of her hands through them. They were as soft to the touch as they looked. He leaned down and kissed her. His lips explored hers with gentle urgency. It was different from Ruby’s kiss, in that Bryon seemed nearly as inexperienced as Aster. They even bumped teeth a few times, but that didn’t slow them down. She let her hands explore his hair and neck.

  After what seemed like a wonderful eternity, he pulled away panting. His face was slack and flushed. “Wow.”

  Her lips tingled like tiny bees had stung them, and she could only find it in herself to nod.

  “I want you to be my girlfriend. We hardly know each other, but it just feels right. Doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  The word was out of her mouth before she could think about any of the implications. With her mind still reeling from the kiss and everything that had preceded it since she woke up this morning, she probably would have agreed to anything, but she knew that if this was what it was like to be courted by a boy from this world, she wanted more.

  Bryon’s smile lit up his whole face, and Aster’s heart softened even more for it. “Great! Wow. This is awesome. So… now what do you want to do?”

  “Well, it is getting a little late in the day. We should probably head back.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. The others will wonder where you’ve been and my dad is probably worried too. I left my phone in the car”

  Together they descended the mound’s steps. She hadn’t noticed it on the way up, but the handrail was dangerously loose in several spots, so they held hands and supported each other. He opened the door for her again and drove her home. This time there was silence, but it was comfortable and warm, like her favorite blanket from back home. She had no desire to fill the moment with words.

  Aster kept replaying the kiss in her mind, but every so often, her moment with Ruby earlier would overlap it, and a guilty pang would hit her in the gut again. A few minutes later, they arrived in front of Oasis and Aster realized she was still holding Bryon’s hat. “I guess you’ll need this back.”

  “You can keep that one. I have a few more.”

  Aster smiled. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll see you soon?”

  “Yes, I believe you will.” After another kiss, which was brief but just as sweet, she stepped out of the car and watched as he drove off in the same direction as Ivy had. Looking in the empty driveway, the familiar dread returned.

  -12-

  Long after the earth had finished its tribulation, Oleander continued to hug the giant oak under which she had scrabbled for shelter. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt such raw fear. Not even the world-bending vertigo before the Tree of Doors had culled up such terror as the shaking of the ground. Perhaps because it felt more real, more… elemental. In the midst of it, she’d fumbled for an incantation that would settle the earth, but the only words that came out of her mouth were meaningless mumbles and jibbers.

  Holly, you did this! The Door could be damaged beyond repair, but it was too late to fuss about that now. She was here, and she had no choice but to continue with her plans.

  After she was sure the trembles had subsided, she clambered slowly to her feet, brushed off her robes, and looked around. The foliage was brittle and dry from what looked like months of drought. A single spark, and this place would go up like a sulfur stick. Oleander detected no other sign of wildlife. No birdsong, no crackling branches from prancing deer, not even so much as a mangy squirrel. The tremble had either frightened them away or this hellhole was dying faster than even Ellemire.

  But the stink was what really hit her like a brick to the face. It was like brimstone, but more… insidious, she supposed. As if it had been here a very long time and had seeped into the fabric of the world.

  Her initial plan had been to hike to the nearest town and then eventually make her way to the Oasis house, where she knew Aster was staying—the information was common knowledge among the family—but the ordeal from crossing over followed by the earthquake had sapped her energy. Fear was the most exhausting emotion, and Oleander had experienced more of it in the last hour than she had her in entire life.

  Sitting on a tree stump near a wide dirt road, she opened her knapsack and pulled out the package of sausages, hunk of cheese, and bar of chocolate that would be her lunch. The chocolate was infused with anesthetic herbs, which she would need to use with the potion she’d soon be taking. She considered it one of her masterpieces, taking her over five years to perfect. It only needed one final ingredient, and she’d be able to get that easily enough…

  After her third bite of chocolate, she saw a strange red motor carriage making its way up the road. It stopped fast, kicking up a cloud of dust and small rocks. Oleander understood the source of this world’s stink, and her stomach roiled being so close to it.

  A woman climbed out, and Oleander immediately recognized the dark face. What a remarkable turn of luck! A small part of her had hoped the Ivy bitch would turn up sooner or later to check on the state of the Door, but she hadn’t dared count on it.

  The woman frowned when she spied Oleander sitting on the log. It was a look of faint recognition, though the two had met face to face. Oleander was sure the familiarity was due more to where she was from than who she was.

  “How did you get through the Door? Who are you?”

  The woman spoke in the tongue of this world, and Oleander was pleased to find she could understand it. She didn’t much appreciate her tone, but it didn’t matter. Ivy wouldn’t be herself for much longer. “I don’t know what you mean, dear. Why, I was walking through the woods in search of lady slipper blossoms when I stumbled and hit my head. I woke up here. I haven’t the faintest idea where I am.”

  The woman paused, her frown deepening. “You don’t know where you are? What’s your name?”

  Oleander leaned over and heaved a dry cough, all for theatrical effect. “My dear, you wouldn’t happen to have a spot of water, would you? I have the worst headache, and I haven’t any water to take my medicine.”

  The woman studied her face for a minute longer before she softened. “I have something in the car. Hang on.” She opened the door and ducked inside. A second later she emerged with a clear bottle of water with a blue label. “I hope you don’t mind that I already drank from it. It’s all I have.”

  “No, it’s perfect.” It was better than Oleander had hoped, in fact. Otherwise she would have been forced to pluck a hair or get some other essence of the woman into the bottle without arousing too much suspicion. Aside from the minor kink of the earthquake, things were going swimmingly.

  She pulled out the nearly-finished flask of potion and removed the little cork with her teeth. “My good health thanks you, dear.” After pouring the ink-colored liquid into the water bottle, she swirled it around. It flashed swampy green and a brackish vapor accompanied by a sulfur smell spilled forth from the bottle’s neck.

  Ivy wrinkled her nose. “What is that stuff?”

  Oleander winked. “The best medicine there is.” She gulped down the noxious liquid with hardly a grimace. The heat of it exploded in her belly and radiated outward to every limb and into her face, overpowering the little bit of anesthesia she’d taken with the chocolate. She doubled over, screaming and grabbing at the sides of her head as the potion contorted every bone and muscle.

  In the midst of her agony, Oleander felt a hand on her shoulder. A sudden euphoria enveloped her, dissolving her pain the way the sun evaporates fog. Her resolve evaporated, and she felt a cooling surrender flood her mind. This quest was a mistake! I will summon Dahlia and Lily to bring her home, to fix this mess before it got worse.

  Then Oleander realized these traitor thoughts were not her own. The woman had some sort of special touch, and it was poisoning her mind. Oleander gathered every ounce of her black will, stored up from years of thirsting f
or vengeance, and yanked herself away. “No! Get your hands off me!”

  “But I can help you! Please, tell me what’s happening!”

  “Stay away!” Oleander stumbled away and hid behind a tree while the potion finished its work. Digging into the bark with her claw-like fingers, she rode out the pain, which felt like millions of stabbing needles.

  “You just stay right there, honey. I’m gonna call 9-1-1.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” She grabbed a thick length of branch lying nearby before getting to her feet and coming back around the tree.

  Ivy’s face became a mask of dawning horror as she gazed at the woman now standing before her. “My Gods, what sort of dark trickery is this?”

  Oleander tightened her grip around the branch she held close to her side. “Magic, my dear. As you know.” She moved like a blur, swinging the chunk of wood at Ivy’s head, but the other witch was just quick enough to dodge the blow. Ivy ran for her strange vehicle and dove in through the headfirst, but Oleander had regained some of her uncanny reflex and snatched the woman’s ankle before it could escape into the relative safety of the carriage.

  Ivy screamed as Oleander pulled her out onto the carpet of dry leaves and needles on the forest floor and sat on her. Her ample flesh writhed beneath Oleander, and she took an almost sexual sort of pleasure from it.

  “You don’t need to do this,” Ivy grunted. Oleander’s heavy weight on her chest must have been constricting her breathing. “Whatever it is you want… I can get it for you… I can help you.”

  Oleander held her fast with her powerful thigh muscles, taking extra special care to pin the woman’s dangerous hands. She leaned down into her new twin’s face until she could smell the terror wafting out of her. So much better than the oily stink of this world.

  “Quiet your sheep’s bleating. The more you struggle, the more I will hurt you just for sport.”

  The woman stilled, but her heart thrummed inside her ribcage like a frightened rabbit, and Oleander drew even more power from it, up through the place between her legs where she had once drawn so much power from the lonely boys of Ellemire. A simple thrust of her hips would likely make her climax, but there was no time for such simplistic pleasures. There was one more thing she needed to do.