while the black stars burn

by kucy a snyder

  “It’s all mixed up then, innit?”

  “Very much so, I’m afraid. Which can mean only one of two things, dear Ace: either the girl’s storybook has fallen apart and she has misassembled the pages, thus confusing the story elements, or...”

  “...or she’s gone out of her mind from the hatred and loneliness.”

  “Not unlike those prisoners kept in the pit of Dalibor Tower. I rather prefer my theory to yours.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Well, we’ll know soon enough,” said the Doctor, looking out into the growing darkness.

  “Would you be cross with me if I told you I was scared?” asked Ace.

  “Not if you won’t be cross with me for sharing your sentiment—squared.”

  They joined Sleepy John in the invisible wagon—after much fumbling about on both their parts—then donned their caps and vanished from the sight of man.

  *

  All of the storybooks characters were lining the road as they climbed from the wagon and followed Sleepy John into the tower; princesses, griffins, dancing devils, numerous dragons, hairy beasties, even the bear, eagle, and strolling fish were there. Ace was overwhelmed at the amount of people and creatures that bade them welcome, and as she studied them she saw the great detail that had gone into their drawing, and was once again amazed that any human being could possess the gift to create something so lifelike, so utterly real, from the ether of their imagination. She thought of how, as a child, she had wished for such a talent, something to make her popular with the other children, but she’d been an orphan, an outcast, with only her fists and her quick temper to protect her from the others’ cruelty.

  Even though she’d not yet seen this little girl, she felt that she knew Sleepy John’s mistress as well as she knew herself; angry, confused, sad, and so very, very alone and lonely.

  The thought nearly tore her in half, and made her feel even more grateful for the time storm that had whisked her away and dropped her in the Doctor’s path. She’d not known a truly lonely moment since meeting him...nor a dull one, for that matter.

  They followed John into the tower and up a seemingly unending winding staircase until they at last reached a wide, deep, dark chamber that was so chilly Ace could actually see her breath. In the distance a small fire burned, the flames contained by a circle of stones to hold the coals in place. beside the fire sat the little girl from her dream, staring down languorously into a pit in the floor.

  Ace felt the Doctor’s hand on her arm.

  “We must proceed with the greatest caution, dear Ace.”

  “I know.” She could not move her stare from the little girl’s face; so pale, so drawn, with circles under the eyes far too dark for a child so young. Despite her better and more intelligent instincts, Ace wanted nothing so much at that moment than to run over and hold the little girl in her arms and whisper, “It’s all right, love, it’s all right, I’ll be your friend, I’ll make it all better.”

  “Please wait here,” said Sleepy John, “whilst I speak with my mistress.”

  “Of course,” said the Doctor.

  With a bow, John was off.

  “She’s so small,” said Ace. “She looks more like a girl of three than five.”

  “I imagine that living in these conditions for so long has not been of the greatest benefit to her physiology.”

  Ace glared at him. “Must you talk about it in such clinical terms?”

  “If I am to keep my nerves intact, dear Ace, then, yes, I must.”

  “What’s the matter with your nerves?”

  The Doctor slowly raised the tip of his umbrella and pointed toward a distant corner where a massive shadow dislodged itself from the darkness and moved toward the firelight.

  The giant ogre’s face was a twisted mass of scars and infantile rage. Its mighty arms bulged with muscle and sinew, and in each of its enormous hands it held a large block of stone.

  Its stare was intensely focused on the Doctor and Ace.

  “Her bodyguard, I would imagine,” whispered the Doctor. “And from the looks of him, we could not possibly outrun those stones should he decide to chuck them in our direction. I suggest we remain quite still for the moment.”

  The ogre snarled quietly, and as if to confirm the Doctor’s suspicions, lifted the stones and nodded toward the two of them.

  “I’ll bet he’s got wicked aim,” whispered Ace.

  “That goes without saying.”

  Ace slowly slipped her hand into a pocket of her rucksack and grasped a Nitro-9 canister.

  “No,” said the Doctor, grasping her arm tighter. “Despite the considerable size of this room, it is still an enclosed space. We might harm the girl—not to mention bring the tower down around us.”

  Ace released her grip on the canister, but left her hand resting against it, nonetheless; it made her feel safe.

  Sleepy John finished speaking with the little girl, then rose and turned toward the Doctor and Ace. “My mistress requests the pleasure of your company.”

  Slowly, the Doctor and Ace walked toward her; as they did so, the ogre moved closer until it towered behind them, holding the great stones over their heads.

  “This is most distressing,” whispered the Doctor.

  “Hush,” said Ace.

  “Hello,” said the little girl. “My name is Nápev.”

  “’Melody’,” said the Doctor. “Your name is Czechoslovakian for ‘Melody’.”

  “Melody,” said Ace. “What a lovely name—what a beautiful name.”

  “Thank you,” said Nápev. “Papa chose it. He always said I was like a song.”

  Ace smiled. “How wonderful.”

  “Mama died when I was born. Papa and I, we lived here until the bad people came.”

  “I know,” said Ace. “We—the Doctor and I—we know all about how terrible things have been for you, and we came to help.”

  Nápev studied her face for a moment, and then said, “You’re not going to try and take Papa and all my friends away, are you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Ace,” said the Doctor. “Be careful what you promise her.”

  “I don’t think I like him,” said Nápev. “He reminds me of the people who took Papa away.”

  Ace looked at the Doctor and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Oh, don’t be bothered by him—he has a strange way about him, and he can be a royal pain, but he’s very smart, and very kind.”

  “Really?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  Nápev looked at the Doctor. “Should I smash him? You could stay here with me. We could be friends. Papa would play such wonderful music for us.”

  “No!” shouted Ace. “No, please, don’t...don’t hurt him. You see, he’s my best friend, my only friend, really—unless you want to be my friend.”

  Nápev reached out with a trembling hand and touched Ace’s cheek. “You’re not like the others,” she said. “Sleepy John and the rest.” She knelt down and rummaged through a pile of rubbish, at last finding what she was looking for—a book; a very tattered, damaged book, with a broken spine and loose pages stuffed back inside in the wrong order. “Papa read to me from this, such wonderful stories—and he could read them so well.”

  “Oh, I’ve no doubt about that,” said Ace, taking the book from Nápev and showing it to the Doctor. “I’m sorry that it’s fallen apart on you like this.”

  “That’s all right,” said Nápev, taking the book from Ace and holding it against her chest like most little girls would hold a favorite doll. “I remember how he read them, and I remember the stories. Did your papa ever read stories to you?”

  Ace shook her head. “No. I don’t have a father, or a mum, really. I was...I was left on my own when I was very young.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Nápev.

  Ace reached out and took the little girl’s hand. “It’s a terrible thing, innit? To be alone, to have no one to play with or talk to except for people and things you make up or
read about.”

  “Did they laugh at you?” asked Nápev. “Did they shout cruel words at you and throw things and chase you into dark places?”

  Ace felt a tear slip from her eye and slide down her face. “Yes, they did. I was completely alone until I met the Doctor.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Everybody calls me ‘Ace”, but you can call me by my real name: Dorothy.”

  “Good heavens,” said the Doctor from behind them. “This is quite the honor being bestowed upon you, Nápev. Were I ever to call her ‘Dorothy’, she would most certainly ‘clean my clock’, as goes the saying.”

  “He talks funny,” said Nápev.

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Why are you crying?” asked Nápev. “Did the man in the funny hat hurt you?” She glared at the Doctor. “I can still smash him, if you want.”

  “No, please, that won’t be necessary—but I’ll keep that in mind.” She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the Doctor, and then winked at him.

  But Nápev was nothing if not persistent. “So why are you crying?”

  “Because,” Ace replied, “I see how cold and dark it is in here, and I remember what it was like when I lived on the streets of London. To grow up motherless, fatherless, friendless...to never dance with a boy, never have someone who loves you there to tuck you in at night, someone you know will still be there for you in the morning...to have no one to depend on, or who depends on you, who loves you...it hardens your heart too soon, and the world will do that soon enough.”

  She reached out and gently pulled Nápev toward her. “You’ve not had a childhood, and that is truly cruel, and you so deserve to be happy, Melody. You do! Please, please let the Doctor and me help you.”

  Nápev laid her head against Ace’s shoulder. “How can you help me?”

  “I know a place,” said the Doctor. “I know a place where you will have many people, many friends who will care for you, who will teach you how to use your abilities without—well, without harming others.”

  Nápev’s head snapped up. “I’ve never hurt anyone! They hurt Papa! They killed him!”

  “I am aware of that,” said the Doctor. “But you must understand, Nápev, that those people who did this terrible thing to you and your father, they’re long since dead or in prison and cannot harm you any longer. But when you summon forth your friends like Sleepy John and the dragons and this rather unnerving fellow who’s holding these stones over my head, you...how to put this?”

  “It hurts people,” Ace said. “I know you don’t mean for it to, but it does.”

  “But all I do is drink in the magic. It’s all around. I feel it in the air, in my head, on my skin, all the time.”

  Ace looked at the Doctor with pleading in her glistening eyes.

  “That magic, Nápev,” he said, “is what helps the people of this city to live. It’s what helps them care for their children, their pets, their friends. When you drink the magic so as to bring forth your friends, the people who live outside the walls of this castle, they cannot take care of their children. They cannot tuck them into warm beds because it’s so cold. They cannot make food for their breakfast.” He leaned forward. “They cannot read stories to them as your father did to you because they have no light by which to see their books.”

  Nápev’s eyes began tearing. “I didn’t know.”

  “Well, now you do. Will you be a good little girl and stop drinking the magic?”

  “But all of my friends will go away. Papa will leave me.”

  “Oh, no, dear child, that won’t happen at all.” The Doctor knelt beside Nápev and Ace, placing a finger against the child’s forehead. “They will stay with you in here.” Then he touched her chest above her heart. “And here. And when we take you to this place I know of, you can call them out as often as wish and it will hurt no one. Your father can play his violin as much as he wants, and the dragons can fly, and the fish can stroll, and Sleepy John can still run to market and fetch food for you. Nothing will change—except, of course, for your surroundings.”

  “Is it a nice place?”

  “Yes, it is. Particularly for a child of your talent.”

  Ace glared at him. “You’re talking about Gallifrey, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Nápev will find herself and her friends most welcome there.”

  “How do you know they’ll—?”

  “I still have friends, Ace. Some of them on the Council. Gallifrey will be the best place for our Nápev, I promise.”

  “Is it far?” asked Nápev.

  “Oh, very,” replied the Doctor. “Across the expanse of the universe. Oh, the adventure we’ll have while traveling there! Have you ever seen the stars so close that you could reach out and touch them, Nápev? Have you ever flown through space on the wings of time? Have you ever seen a supernova?”

  Wide-eyed, Nápev shook her head. “It sounds so beautiful.”

  “Well, imagine how much more thrilling the trip will be with your father there to play music for all of us, eh?” The Doctor offered his hand. “If you’ll release the magic back to the people of this city, we’ve only to walk back to where our spaceship awaits, and then—zoom, we’re off to the stars with the entire cosmos our playground.”

  In a blink—a literal blink of Ace’s eyes—the ogre and Sleepy John vanished. Ace had no choice but to assume that the other beings outside were gone, as well.

  From a small opening high up on the farthest wall, the glow of streetlights flowed inside.

  “Thank you, Nápev,” said the Doctor, helping the child to her feet and leading her toward the stairway. “You’ll have a most glorious time on our trip, I promise you.”

  Ace caught up with them, and though they had to walk single-file down the winding staircase, once outside, Nápev immediately got between Ace and the Doctor. Each of them took hold of one of the little girl’s hands as they walked from the tower and toward the bridge.

  “Lovely night, isn’t it?” asked the Doctor, nodding upward at the glowing streetlamps and the sparkling, warm lights from inside the houses they passed.

  “Papa and I never had a house like those,” said Nápev.

  “You will,” said Ace.

  “Promise?”

  Ace looked at the Doctor, who gave a quick nod of his head.

  “Promise,” said Ace.

  Nápev then tugged on the Doctor’s hand. “Do you know any good stories? Please tell us a story while we walk.”

  “Oh, the stories I can tell! Wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  “Lucky us,” said Ace.

  “Be nice,” said Nápev. “And just for that, you get to tell us a story.”

  “Oh, my dear Ace,” said the Doctor, smiling, “something tells me this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  And the three of them walked on into the night, the lights from the city guiding them to safety and warmth and grand adventure.

  About the Author

  Lucy A. Snyder is the four-time Bram Stoker Award-winning author of the novels Spellbent, Shotgun Sorceress, Switchblade Goddess, and the collections Soft Apocalypses, Shooting Yourself in the Head For Fun and Profit: A Writer’s Survival Guide, Orchid Carousals, Sparks and Shadows, Chimeric Machines, and Installing Linux on a Dead Badger. Her writing has been translated into French, Russian, and Japanese editions and has appeared in publications such as Apex Magazine, Nightmare Magazine, Pseudopod, Strange Horizons, Weird Tales, Steampunk World, In the Court of the Yellow King, Shadows Over Main Street, Qualia Nous, The Library of the Dead, and Best Horror of the Year, Vol. 5.

  Lucy was born in South Carolina but grew up in grew up in the cowboys-and-cactus part of Texas. She currently lives in Worthington, Ohio with her husband and occasional co-author Gary A. Braunbeck.

  Lucy has a BS in biology and an MA in journalism and is a graduate of the 1995 Clarion Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers’ Workshop. She has worked as a computer systems specialist, science writer, biol
ogy tutor, researcher, software reviewer, radio news editor, and bassoon instructor. She currently mentors students in Seton Hill University’s MFA program in Writing Popular Fiction.

  If genres were wall-building nations, Lucy’s stories would be forging passports, jumping fences, swimming rivers and dodging bullets. You can learn more about her at www.lucysnyder.com and you can follow her on Twitter at @LucyASnyder.

  Publication History

  “Spinwebs”—Not Our Kind, Alliteration Ink, January 2015.

  “The Strange Architecture of the Heart”—Bless Your Mechanical Heart, Evil Girlfriend Media, March 2014.

  “Approaching Lavender”—Chiral Mad 2, Written Backwards, December 2013.

  “Dura Mater”—Qualia Nous, Written Backwards, August 2014.

  “The Still-Life Drama of Passing Cars” (co-written with Gary A. Braunbeck)—Bedtime Stories To Darken Your Dreams (edited by Alan Clark and Bruce Holland Rogers), IFD Publishing, May 1999. Reprinted in The Little Orange Book of Odd Stories, Wildside Press, 2003. Honorable mention, Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror 13.

  “Through Thy Bounty”—Originally appeared in The Midnighters’ Club anthology, June 2001. Reprinted in Sparks and Shadows in 2007, in Apex Online in 2008, and in LampLight Vol. 2 in 2014. Honorable mention, Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror 15.

  “Cthylla”—The Library of the Dead, Written Backwards, May 2015.

  “While The Black Stars Burn”—Cassilda’s Song, Chaosium, August 2015.

  “The Abomination of Fensmere”—Shadows Over Main Street, Hazardous Press, January 2015.

  “The Girl With The Star-Stained Soul”—In The Court of the Yellow King, Celaeno Press, September 2014.

  “Jessie Shimmer Goes To Hell”—Manifesto UF, Angelic Knights Press, September 2013.